1. Door

MADISON

I’ve called more than five bicycle shops nearby, but the response is always the same: “Get a new bike,” they say, as if it’s given out for free.

It’s not that I can’t afford a new bike. In fact, besides my tuition and the extra money my parents usually add to my account for living expenses, I also have eighty-three thousand dollars for the Range Rover my parents promised to get me as soon as I got my driving permit. But knowing that even if I got a new bike Caden would just continue to destroy it, I’d rather have my old one repaired.

Fortunately, I finally got through to a polite guy who took down my home address and offered to help later in the evening as part of his off-site service. I don’t know how to feel, because that means I won’t be getting my textbooks today. Great. Caden has succeeded in ruining my day, as usual. How sad.

I go back to the apartment and turn on the sixty-inch television after grabbing a bag of nacho cheese Doritos and a coffee mug. The place is a moderately sized room combined with a kitchen and dining area. It came furnished, so Mom didn’t have to worry about getting new stuff for us.

In the living room area, the dark wooden floor is covered with a comfortable beige rug. There are two leather couches with cozy, small, multicolored square pillows, a recliner, and a set of wooden coffee tables and end tables on each side of the couches. The television is mounted against the white wall above the fireplace. To the left, we have our bookshelf filled with books and some wall frames. Behind the living area is the kitchen, where we have a side‑by‑side refrigerator and built‑in appliances, including a dishwasher. Next to the worktop is a four‑seat dining table.

The apartment is a compact two‑bedroom, one‑bathroom place with a small laundry room. Although Caden’s bedroom is the biggest, mine has enough space, too.

After flipping through different channels, I settle on watching Friends. That show has always managed to make me smile after every fight and argument with Caden. I think that’s what I need right now while I angrily stuff chips into my mouth.

I want to call Mom, but the family video call is scheduled for later in the evening, which means I have to wait for hours until Caden gets home. Still, I feel restless about not having my things ready, so the comedy show doesn’t work as well as it used to. What makes me feel slightly better is cussing Caden out loud and hitting the couch repeatedly.

I don’t even care about making myself an elaborate meal. I just rely on the party‑sized bag of Doritos and bottled water until evening. That jerk stays out for almost the entire day. It’s already 5:47 p.m., and there is no sign of him.

I don’t know where to direct my anger until an idea comes to mind. Oh, this is perfect. I smile just as wickedly as Caden would when my legs take me toward his bedroom.

Bingo.

His keys are still in the lock, hanging from his door. That makes it easier for me. I enter his bedroom and lock the door behind me, leaving the keys in their place. This means he won’t be able to use another key to enter. He won’t have access to his belongings or a place to sleep. Even better, no room for him to bring unknown girls.

Feeling like Lord Baelish after successfully executing a plot, I walk over to the window.

This apartment is different from our house back in New York. Of course it is. Our home is a single‑family, two‑story building, while this is a tall five‑story building, and we’re on the fourth floor. But I’m skilled when it comes to situations like sneaking from window to window, so I’m confident it will be just like any other time. I just need to avoid looking down.

Taking deep breaths, I first slide my legs through the window before pushing my whole body out and relying on the thin bricks supporting my feet and fingers as I move like a spider against the outside wall.

I should be grateful for the days when I went camping after my dad ran away. I learned different things from hanging out with other kids. I’m pretty sure no cops or residents have spotted me yet, because if I were caught in this situation, I’d end up in jail. These are the kinds of things only Caden is capable of making me do.

Just when I think I’m almost there, I miss a step and almost lose my grip.

“Shitttt.” I curse as my right foot probably lands on an air‑conditioning unit. Suddenly my nose starts getting congested in an open space. The hell? Seriously? Now?

“Shit, what the hell are you doing?” someone’s panicked voice calls out.

Great. Now I’m caught. I’m going to jail.

“I’m trying to get through the window,” I reply to the voice without attempting to locate its source.

“Are you sneaking into someone’s apartment? I should call the police.”

So the suspicious person isn’t some heroic Superman; instead, he’s just a jerk.

Irritated, I force myself to look below. I see a young guy with red hair peeping from the window on the third floor. I don’t get a chance to scan his full features like I would if I weren’t wall‑walking, trying to save my life at the moment.

“That’s my apartment, you idiot,” I spit out, fighting the urge not to sneeze, because then I’d lose my balance.

“Your apartment? And you’re climbing the wall to get in? Ever heard of the entrance door?” he asks sarcastically.

Huffing, I frown. I’d rather the cops see me than this ridiculous jerk of a person.

“Either you shut up and mind your own business or—” I stop myself before uttering things I don’t mean, like asking for help from some, probably a dork who does nothing but provoke his neighbors through the window. I hope he can see how much I don’t need his help. I’ve got this. I’ve done this before. All I need is for him to get out of my way.

I manage to retrace my steps and keep moving closer to my window.

“Do you need help?” His tone is cautious and concerned.

“No, I don’t! Not from neighborhood gossips,” I snap at him as I grab my window frame and start pulling my body into my bedroom.

“Clearly, you don’t.” He amusingly rolls his eyes and disappears into his lousy apartment, I guess.

How wonderful. We have another jerk in the building. Yay. Duh.

Anyway, I’m more excited about accomplishing my mission than worrying about some red‑haired neighbor trying to ruin my triumph. I lean against the wall and giggle as I imagine my stepbrother’s face when he realizes he has no place to sleep tonight.

The sudden sound of the doorbell startles me, and I immediately get to my feet. Caden has the keys, so who could it possibly be? Unless he threw them away for his own satisfaction.

I haven’t finished contemplating the possibility when I open the door and find myself staring into a pair of brown eyes. My eyebrows furrow.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m Jake, from the bicycle shop,” he says, with a cute, infectious smile.

Instantly, a smile forms on my face. “Oh, sorry, I was in the middle of something. Uhm…” I stumble over my words.

He seems a bit nervous, glancing down the hall and back at me. “I can come back tomorrow.”

“No, I mean, I was… You have no idea how much I need that bicycle before tomorrow,” I say, shaking my head.

“Okay, cool,” he says, readjusting the backpack on his shoulder, clearly nervous.

“Thank you for coming. I’ll show you the bicycle even though it’s right there,” I say, and close the door behind me before pointing to the wrecked thing beside him.

He stifles a laugh. “Alright, I think I’ll take a look at it outside. Is that okay with you?” he asks.

“Yes, I’ll help you with the broken saddle and handlebar,” I offer, picking up the two sad parts that Caden managed to ruin.

We take the elevator to the first floor and head to a backyard probably meant for the residents of my building to use. It’s currently empty and has a peaceful atmosphere. I have a feeling this place and I are going to become good friends. I’ve always enjoyed quiet places since I was young. It was my way of escaping the constant arguments between my parents. Then my mom married Caden’s dad, and I started getting bullied by Caden every day, so hiding became my thing.

Jake starts unpacking his equipment, and I sit on a cement bench, taking in the calmness as I watch him do what he’s best at.

It’s getting dark when we decide that he’ll take my bicycle with him, and I can use his instead until tomorrow, when he’ll have mine ready and working again. I think that will work, and even though I have the urge to scream out how much I hate Caden, I manage to smile and appear grateful. And I truly am grateful.

“Tomorrow evening then?” he asks after I inform him that I’ll be at school until two in the afternoon.

“Yup, thank you once again,” I say, smiling as I enter the building, bringing Jake’s brown Kona bike with me.

This time, I don’t leave the bicycle outside. I take it with me into the apartment. I can’t let Caden wreck something that doesn’t belong to me.

As I turn the key until the door makes a clicking sound, I step into the living room. Suddenly, it’s as clear as day that I’m not alone. And I’m certain it’s none other than Caden, because I spot his backpack on the couch just as I hear a woman giggling from the one place where his escapades should never happen, my innocent bedroom.

Oh, for heaven’s sake!