Life is Elsewhere; Delilah, Chapter 1

I rushed the boxes into the house, trying to clear the hallway of my mom’s clutter as quickly as I could. I love my mom, but she loves stuff too much. Don’t get me wrong, I like my things, and I have quite a few things, but all of mine have a use. I don’t have many useless figurines, and the ones I have…they’re special.

“Del,” Mom laughs, “relax. Take your time, we aren’t racing against a clock.”

I roll my eyes as she pats me on the shoulder and head back through the open apartment hallway, and straight into some guys arms.

“Uh…sorry,” I quickly mumble and turn straight around, grabbing the first box I saw and running back inside.

He’s laughing in the hallway, whoever he is. When I turn back around from placing the box down on the pile in the kitchen, I stop for a second in utter shock.

He’s hot.

“Hi,” he says, still in the hallway.

“Hello there,” My mom interrupts after leaving the bathroom.

I got out a quick greeting and looked down again. I’m an idiot, liking a boy already. I don’t even know his name, or who he is, or why he’s here.

“I’m your new neighbor,” he says, “I live a few apartments over and thought I could come over and see if you needed any help.”

“Thank you,” Mom says, “I’m Sharon, and this is my daughter, Delilah.”

I nod, and push my way past him to get another box as he says his name. He’s Finn.

“Let me help you,” he says when I try to lift a heavy box. He takes over, lifting it as though it weighed a few ounces.

“Thanks,” I say softly and try to grab another, much lighter box, “Follow me.”

He sets the box down on the floor next to the pile that I just finished up. He helps pick up all of the heavier boxes until we finish bringing the boxes inside.

“I think we’ve got it from here,” I tell him, “We’re just going to sort through them and put them in the right rooms now.”

“Alright,” Finn smiles, “I’m in room 408 if you need anything.”

I close the door behind him, and lean against the door.

“I told you it wouldn’t be that bad,” Mom laughs, “You already met a friend.”

I roll my eyes at her and open the closest box, finding some of my art supplies. As I take the box into my boring room, I sigh. All of my furniture, except for one of the tables I use to hold art supplies, is in my mom’s room, because my first matter of business is to paint these walls, and have fun doing it.