4. Kind person

MADISON

Breathlessly, I unlocked the door to my apartment. I scampered through, seething with anger and ready to explode. It had taken me quite some time to ride back to Oxford Avenue, and by now I was sweating as if I had climbed a mountain.

“Caden?” I called out.

“Caden, I swear to God I will kill you if you—” I pushed open my bedroom door, only to find the room empty.

What?

I began checking every door in our apartment—from Caden’s room, which was still jammed, to the laundry room, which was empty and in disarray. Actually, the whole apartment was disorganized, including my bedroom. I had to push my frustration aside since Caden knew how bothered I got in messy places, yet he seemed to have purposefully scattered things everywhere to annoy me. I mean, why would someone keep an extra car tire, a collection of compact discs, and a mop on a coffee table? And a punching bag on our island? It was clearly meant to disgust me.

As everything started to click, I comprehended what had happened in the last hour. Caden had succeeded in getting me kicked out of my class on my first day of college, then made sure I came home so I wouldn’t make it to the next class on time. Wow. He’s really good at manipulating me.

Frustrated and with a sore head from hitting it multiple times, I left the apartment with the intention of riding back to campus. But then an idea struck me. Of course, I needed to unlock that asshole’s door, or I would be stuck in hell for another night.

Sighing at my failed attempt, I turned back into the apartment and made my way to my bedroom window, where I began wall-crawling toward Caden’s window.

I should consider myself lucky that the street is quiet, given it’s Monday and most people are either at school or work.

The last thing I need is to get caught and reported to the police. I can already imagine Caden’s face when he comes to bail me out of jail, realizing my reputation would be ruined. That is, if he even cares enough and doesn’t decide to tell the police he has no idea who I am.

Suddenly, I hear a cough from below, which startles me and almost causes me to lose my balance.

“What the fuck?” I hiss, hitting my forehead on the wall as I regain my composure.

“You do realize this is illegal, right? Should I be concerned about you sneaking into my apartment?” And there he is, the underground asshole.

“You do know that peeping and not minding your own business is illegal, right?” I fire back.

“Okay, let’s see what the police say about both of us. Molly, get me my phone,” he says a little louder to someone inside his apartment.

Swallowing my annoyance, I give up. He has no idea what getting reported would mean for me. I can’t bear the thought of having a police record. It’s one of my biggest fears when it comes to public matters.

Why did my day have to turn out this way? I hate you, Caden.

“Look, this is my stepbrother’s bedroom, and his door is jammed. I’m trying to help, like the kind person that I am,” I say, straining to hold my position.

“So you came back from school to undo what you had done?” Accusation is evident in his tone.

God, give me the strength to deal with this guy.

“Let me guess. Do you stay by your window, supervising every move in the neighborhood?” He’s such a creep.

“You think the worst of people that easily?” he retorts.

“Whatever, I have things to do. If you let me be, I’d appreciate it.” I look down and force a tight smile at him. He’s shirtless, and his red hair is disheveled. If I’m being completely honest, he’s not that bad-looking. It’s just his attitude that’s a shame for someone with such a perfect appearance. But then again, I live with an even worse nightmare.

“Okay,” he simply answers.

Feeling relieved, I proceed through the window and complete my mission.

***

My first day in college isn’t the proudest I had envisioned for over a year. I get kicked out of the first class. I arrive late to the second class, which pleases my stepbrother, since we had an agreement to clean up the apartment together. My anxiety won’t let me rest until everything is clean. The third class is a curse because Caden is sitting next to me, and I’m the one taking notes for both of us, as we agreed to share textbooks and notes, following the “sibling sharing stuff” law.

On my way back home, I stop at a grocery store to get some things, as instructed by Mom. Unlike Caden, I actually care about my health. I sincerely care about filling my stomach.

As I reach the apartment, I unlock the door with my key and enter, carrying the grocery bag and Jake’s bike. I kick the door open with my leg to make room for us.

The apartment looks the same—tidy, just as I left it, so I’m sure Caden hasn’t come home. I use the time to organize the items I bought and put them in their proper places. I even make myself some chicken pasta after taking a shower, knowing better than to wait for Caden to be home.

I comfortably lounge on the couch, watching a reality show on N*****x when my phone buzzes.

It’s Jake, and he’s downstairs.

I slip my feet into my slippers and head toward him, along with his Kona bicycle.

“Hey!” he greets me with a smile.

“Hey,” I smile back, looking at my bike, which looks great once again.

“It’s all set. I think it could be better than a brand-new one,” he jokes.

“Clearly. I can’t wait to ride it,” I joke along. “Can I have the check or your Venmo, please?” I ask him.

“It’s on the house, so I did it for free,” he informs me.

My eyebrows raise. “But you purchased some parts.” I feel uneasy when people refuse to take credit for the work they’ve done.

“Honestly, I didn’t have to purchase much. Most of the parts were in my garage, so I used some spare parts for the rest,” he says, offering a warm, assuring smile.

Letting go, I reply, “Alright, thank you so much,” as we exchange our bikes.

“Make sure you keep it safe. She’s a survivor,” Jake tells me, and I laugh. Of course she is.

“I will, I promise.” From this day on, my baby will share a room with me. That way, Caden can’t do anything to her.

I’m flipping through channels around eight when the door violently swings open. I have to move to the other end of the couch, only for a girl to enter backward, followed by Caden’s mouth and head. Oh, and then Caden’s full body before the door is slammed shut.

The two hungry animals are shoving their tongues down each other’s throats, while their greedy hands struggle to find a steady position.

I would have watched irresponsibly, but I get involved, knowing I don’t want any nastiness in my vicinity, especially after I just cleaned my bedroom.

“Your door is open. Please help yourselves there,” I inform them, as they throw their clothes everywhere in the once-neat environment.

I’m not sure if they hear me, but luckily, they make their way to Caden’s room, and I let out a relieved sigh, only for a scream to follow, causing me to jump.

Alright, that’s it. That gets me plugging in my earbuds and cranking up the volume of the television to the highest level.

I’m not interested in listening to how great Caden is or hearing girls call him a king in the bedroom.

It’s almost thirty minutes later when I stand up to get some water, but I end up jumping in fear—not from a scream this time.

“What the fuck?” I yell through the noise, although the high volume of the television manages to drown out my loud exclamation.

“Do you always cuss when you’re startled?” he asks.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in here?” I ask the redhead guy, switching glances between him and the entranceway. I should have definitely noticed if he had come in the usual way.

He grabs the remote and begins lowering the volume, allowing the moaning and groaning sounds from the wall behind us to become excruciatingly audible.

His eyes narrow, and his brows knit as he hears it too.

“Fuck!” Caden’s voice exclaims along with a cry.

“He must be good. You shouldn’t have jammed his door!” the redhead chuckles.

Ignoring him, I ask the same thing he asked me earlier, “How did you get in here? Should I be worried?”

“Well, your apartment is noisy, and it keeps waking Molly. She needs a peaceful sleep. As the kind person that I am, you’re lucky I didn’t file a report,” he says, quoting some of my lines.

“I should thank you so much for sneaking into my apartment and not reporting me,” I remark sarcastically.

“Ha-ha, yeah,” he smirks crookedly.

Rolling my eyes, I march to the door and open it for him. “Thank you for your kindness.” I practically kick him out mentally, and that overdue sneeze slips out; I have to hide my face in my arm. Clearly, add him to the list of things I’m allergic to.

“Keep it down,” he says as he steps out the door.

When I’m alone again, I let out a relieved sigh, hoping I can sink into the ground until the cries and moaning from Caden’s bedroom finally subside.