Billy Neighbor Novels & Stories

When Billy entered the house, he looked around to see where Belle and Shawn were. He didn't want to disturb them, maybe they had finally been able to understand what they were feeling for each other. Even if what he was feeling for Belle was more than just a friendship, Billy was aware that Belle would never be his woman, that she would never feel for him the love she was feeling for Shawn. Yes, his cousin was treating her badly, most of the times he was patronizing her, and sometimes, he was particularly aggressive with her, but Billy knew Shawn was doing it in order to realize if he was falling in love with a new Jennifer or if Belle was truly the perfect woman made for him.

The same page I'd been looking at for forty minutes, the tranche documentation, the cross-reference I'd already resolved, the words I was reading without reading because the thinking I was actually doing was somewhere else entirely. The door opened. Billy walked in. He stopped at the threshold and assessed, the way he always does: room first, people second, then me. And whatever conclusion the assessment produced, he decided to proceed. "Mom said to wait here," he said. "Mix-up with pickup." "She's on a call," I said. "I know." He came to the table. Sat two chairs down. Put the notebook on the table and opened it with the settled composure of a child who'd spent enough time in adult spaces t

He had a feeling he was going to like living here. Behind him, Billy stepped onto the porch carrying two bottles of water. "Here." George accepted one. "Thanks." She followed his gaze down the street. "So..." She asked quietly. "Think we'll make friends here?" George shrugged. "I hope so." Billy smiled. "I've already decided I like this neighborhood." "Oh?" "The houses are pretty." "The gardens are nice." "And everyone keeps smiling." George nodded. "I noticed that too." Miss Jean joined them a moment later. She looked toward the neighboring houses.

The whistle was blown twice, and that was the end of the first round each team ran to the team who were not playing, and they all had a quick gulp of water from their various bags. "Uh, I'm thirsty..." I breathed out squinting my face since the sun refused to stop shining so bright. Billy walked over to where I was sitting, and I felt a strange sense of calm instead of awkwardness. I felt more comfortable around him than I did around Keith, who had been nothing but a rude and arrogant crush. Billy was a true friend, someone I could rely on. "Didn't expect to see you here, watching us play," Billy said in his thick British accent as he sat down next to me on the bleachers.

I sent a smiley face emoji, thinking to myself that Robert was a pretty great guy. Over the next few days, Robert and I visited the neighbors to collect evidence for the court. After that, all we could do was wait for the trial. The evening before the trial, there was a loud knock at my door. I opened it to find an angry-looking, burly stranger. He glared at me, asking, "So you're the one who's been messing with my mom?"

BILLY’s POV I sat on the wood waiting for him to arrive. It has not been easy pretending to be fine, especially in front of my classmates and parents. I have always been an energetic lady, so of course now my classmates always give me cold shoulders like they suspect something. I heard footsteps approaching me and I knew it was him, so I stood up and fixed my skirt. I smiled, but my smile immediately faded away, when I saw who it was. Miss Avery?!!!

Restless and unfulfilled, I grabbed my smokes and a lighter and headed out to the stairwell for a puff. Just as my hand touched the door to the stairwell, I heard a faint, frantic moaning. At first, I thought it was just a cat in heat. Then, a familiar scent hit me. It was a perfume that immediately made me think of my charming neighbor from next door, Demi Wilson. Every time I ran into her, that sweet, intoxicating scent always arrived first. Then came the flash of a red slip dress or perhaps a bodycon dress, with a neckline plunging incredibly low.

Brandon. "Ev! Ev! Everett!! Can you fucking stop talking for just a minute there?" I yelled. Thinking talking to Everett would be a consolation for my bad morning was an even worse idea than I expected. "Okay, jeez Brandon. The weather in Finland must be rubbing in on your sour attitude more than anticipated." “Can you just shut up?" He makes a zipping motion with his hands, throwing the invisible key away. "Thank you." “So can you remind me why you even tried to arrest your new neighbor?" He asked for the umpteenth time.

They didn't sleep around or act crazy. When the neighbors found out what happened to me, they rallied together and organized a fundraiser for me. I didn't have to work three jobs anymore. I slowly learned that real safety didn't come from guns or locked doors. It came from people looking out for each other. In the new neighborhood, Draven made a lot of good friends. He grew brighter and more cheerful every day. The smile came back to his face. As he got better, so did I. What Rina did to us became a wake-up call, a reminder to always hold onto your values and not throw yourself into relationships with just anyone.

I couldn't understand why my friend said the man looked familiar, but then I realized it was Joe, my neighbor and Lesley's husband. Sometimes we would travel together, and I would post our group pictures online, so it wasn't surprising that my friend recognized him. Seeing the way they acted around each other, it didn't seem like they had only just gotten close the night before. When did it all start? After they left, I got out of the car and installed surveillance at home, then checked the trash in the bedroom. My fist tightened in anger when I saw what was in there.