The Lacrosse Player Next Door
To stop myself from thinking about him, I put on my headphones and lay on the bed to sleep.
Listening to Billie Eilish had always been my therapy. Her songs were like sleeping pills.
Waking up a few hours later, I realized it was evening already. I went downstairs and met my mom cooking in the kitchen.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked, grabbing an apple from the fridge.
“He had a patient to attend to. He won’t be back until tomorrow.”
I nodded, sitting on a stool inside the cabinet area.
“Our new neighbors have already moved in. I saw them earlier. Susan seems friendly, and her son is so handsome,” she giggled.