A/N: I have been writing this for a while and finally decide to post the first chapter. I already have the next chapter or two written out and a reasonable plan of what is to come.
Hopefully this isn't horrendous. I think it gets a little better in the next chapter or two. Kind of.
I apologise profusely for any possible inaccuracies. And if you have advice on my bad characterisation please feel free to comment and criticise.
This is basically going to be a cheesy romance. I hope that's okay.
...
I met Dov when we were both in High School at one of those information nights my parents had dragged me to where they tried to sell teenagers on joining the police force. I didn't need much selling, I'd been prepped for it my whole life. So there I was as usual, all lanky arms and tussled blonde hair, with my mother as my wingman. She was giving some speech on women in the force, and insisted I meet someone before she go on stage. It was a choice between the dorky guy in the corner who kept shovelling pretzels into his mouth when he thought no-one was looking, or some douche my mum wanted to introduce me to who was like the son of the super intendant or something at the time. I picked the former, and we spent the night mocking other people by the snacks table, which drove my mother nuts, so it was definitely worth it. After that, he was a useful person to attend these stupid things with that my mother forced me to go to, because it meant not having to make conversation with new people. And after a while, he kind of grew on me, till I actually enjoyed his company - when he wasn't being a total nerd, nagging me about doing my school work (which was always already done, though I never told him so) or trying to convince me to watch Doctor Who. We are both planning to join the police force, but for slightly different reasons. He usually spurts out something about protecting the community, but the truth of it I think is something to do with his family, his crazy hippy parents and the dead brother that he so very rarely talks about. I would never admit it to my parents, but I do actually want to be a cop. But then I have wondered countless times if this is really my own aspiration or just what I was inevitably raised to want what with two parents and an older brother all in the police force. Now I am enrolled in college to do a diploma of Police Foundations before I apply for the force next year. It isn't really necessary, because my mother is the superintendent, by father is an inspector, and my brother is a detective. Not to mention my mother is close friends with a number of people high up in the department. Dov however, actually needs to go, and to do well too as he reminds me constantly, so I guess I think of this as another year of goofing off with him before the rest of my life begins. And an extra year to get fit for the entrance tests probably wouldn't hurt. Even if you are a Peck, you need to pass your physicals.
High School ended and so now has summer vacation, as I sit in my parents sun room playing video games and waiting for D to arrive. He spent the entire summer working his ass off every single day of the week and making all the arrangements for this year, while I have been relaxing lazily on my ass all summer, driving my mother crazy. I am just about to take down the next boss when I hear a meek knock on the heavy wooden double doors, and begrudgingly press pause on my game, dropping the controller onto the ground to make a dash for the door. My socks skid on the tiled entrance floor as I try to make the sudden, tight turn right into the foyer. I regain my composure and my balance before I yank the doors open, revealing Dov on my door step, his brown flop of hair plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck with sweat. I glance past him and spot his bike (his car is obviously in the shop, again) where it has been left carelessly to fall directly across the path leading up to the house. It will infuriate my mother when she arrives home, which makes me incredibly happy, so I make a mental note to ask Dov if he wants to stay and order pizza for dinner.
"Sup?" I ask casually, stepping aside to let him through. He passes me silently, his sneakers squeak on the clean tiles as he enters, running a hand through his hair as though this will somehow help. When he stops in the middle of the entrance and turns back towards me, grinning, I note the awkward cowlick now protruding up from the rest of the messy locks at an awkward angle and can't help but laugh.
"Okay, nerd, what's up?" I ask as I lead him through the maze of halls to the kitchen, to fetch the poor kid a drink. He looks like he could use one. Dov leans against the cool counter top gladly as I grab us each a glass and walk towards the fridge, where I have a large bottle of soda stashed. Not that my mother would ever find it, as I am not sure she has ever really set foot in the kitchen much. As I return with coke in hand Dov grins at me proudly.
"I finally found a place," he tells me. I look up from pouring, my eyebrows raised.
"Okay?" I am hoping there is more to his news than this, or I am going to be really disappointed, "good for you." Dov just smiles, used to me by now that this doesn't phase him too much, and goes on.
"Well it's a room in this townhouse near the University, and the owner is super hot," he tells me excitedly, 'in your eyes' I think, but let him keep talking, "and like, really smart too, she's a medical student or something," 'yeah, okay, definitely Dov's standard of hot' I think with a smirk, "but she actually has two bedrooms available for rent at the moment, and I was thinking that maybe you'd want to rent the other one? It's really close to the college, so it'll be a way easier commute, you won't have to live with your parents, and we can be roomies while we're at college! And we can get fit together for the PREP test, I'm thinking we're going to have to really buckle down because, Gail, my friend, you are the unhealthiest person I know." I mull this thought over in my head, having stopped paying much attention after 'won't have to live with your parents', when I realise the glass is already full and now soda is spilling over onto the bench. The dark liquid sits in a sticky puddle on the counter top around the bottom of the glass, and I carefully lift the glass up and sip the drink until I get the level a little further down sides.
"Interesting," I admit as I place the glass back down, my mind split between considering the option and simultaneously trying to decide if leaving the puddle of soda will somehow lead to my mother discovering the bottle where I wedge it in the bottom of the vegetable compartment. This however wouldn't be as much of a concern if I didn't live with my parents, which at the age of nineteen seems pretty lame, even if your parents are loaded and you can usually avoid them by staying in the other wing of the house. I mull it over.
"Where did you say this place was again?" His face breaks into a grin, from ear to ear, and I give him a disapproving frown.
"Robert st, right near Toronto Uni, it's literally a six minute drive from the college, or we can walk and catch a train, still only like fifteen, and it's great, you'll love it," he insists as I push him his own glass of soda, brimmng full, the liquid sloshing against the sides and spilling over just slightly with the force as I shove it. He picks it up gladly and skulls half of it as he waits for my reply.
"Okay."
"Okay?" he asks, barely having swallowed before the word is spilling out of his mouth. I laugh and lean over the counter to rustle his mop of hair, which he allows despite the glare I receive as I pull back.
"I will see it, okay? When do you have your car back?"
…..
I turned to glance at Dov as we pulled up on the curb in the suburban street. His old car gave a sort of pathetic moan as the engine turned off. His hair is unstyled today, the longer section at the front curving over like a wave and then flopping against his forehead in thick, chocolate brown strands. He grins at me as I raised my eyebrows apprehensively.
"So this is it?" The foliage of the maples lining the street dances in the wind and send dappled sunlight moving across the front of the car like reflections off a disco ball. They filter down through the front windscreen, warm yellow in colour, and play across the skin of my bare arms and my worn denim jeans. It's a kind of cute suburban street, with a string of slightly unusual town houses down one side, and on the other a high school, a basketball court, the back of a set of shops that run along an intersecting street. We are parked outside one particular house, the garden of which is a little unkempt, but the house is a beautiful old timber one with elegant what look like period features, a small veranda out the front where the steps lead up to and a balcony on the next floor up. Not that I am going to admit this to Dov just yet.
"This is it," he reaffirms, unclipping his seatbelt and pausing with his hand resting on the door handle.
"It needs a bit of work," I scoff as I push my own open callously, the hinge squeaking a little as I thrust it with force and slip out onto the small stretch of semi green grass between the curb and the sidewalk. The warm air pushes against my skin as I stand up, and I breath it in, hands resting on the top of the open door as I gaze up at the house in front of me and think, could I see myself living here for the next year? It seems an odd thought, to be living anywhere other than the large house we moved into when I was seven and I haven't left since. Odd, but good. How nice it will be not to walk through the halls and see the perfect framed pictures of my family, my parents and my golden star older brother, already doing superbly well in the force and making my parents proud. I shake my head and step away from the car, slamming the door behind me. This is defiantly a good idea.
Dov leads the way up to the front door and I can tell that he is a little nervous. Only Dov would already have a crush on the girl he plans to rent a room from. We walk up the wooden steps onto the small section of veranda outside the front door, the second from the top making a small but distinct creak each time weight is placed upon it. I hang back a little as Dov knocks, and watch in amusement as he runs a hand over his hair in a vain attempt to tame it mildly before the door is answered. If anything it actually seems to make it worse. I stifle a giggle and make an unenthusiastic, half hearted attempt at ensuring my own attire is neat. My fingers run over the messy weave of the side plait sitting on my shoulder, till they reach the end, and then slide down the soft material of my tshirt, smoothing out the wrinkles and folds. The metallic click of a lock rings from behind the heavy wooden door, and then it pulls open.
"Hi, Dov, and you must be Gail? It's nice to meet you, I'm Holly," the young woman is hard to see at first, before she moves forward and her face comes into the light properly. She's brunette, with long dark hair that falls in soft, elegant waves to a few centermetres below her shouders. She wears thick rimmed glack glasses, with thin lenses, that sit slightly at an angle on her nose before she quickly reaches up and adjusts them. Her smile is soft and dorky in a kind of cute, lopsided way. She runs a hand nervously back through her hair as she steps back to let us in, and I noticed the size too big, dark blue shirt that moves in deep folds around her and reads 'keep calm and call the doctor' in white letters across the front. I know exactly why Dov is so enamoured by her. She looks weird and nerdy and smoking hot in a kind of sexy librarian way, right up his alley. I step inside the entry, and am momentarily sidetracked by the house. The walls are all painted a light white colour, with small detailing around the roof and the stairwell. There are stairs leading both up and down, and we are standing in the front of the small living room, where one entire wall is a large bookcase that extends all the way to the ceiling. Most of the books look old and smell musty, reminding me of my school library and a fair few lunch times spent there sitting on my own. Down closer to the bottom are a range of what look like science textbooks, and on one end what appear to be the thin spines of comic books, and a few medical periodicals. Such a nerd, Dov is going to be in heaven here.
The odd thing about checking out a new place is that you are standing there feeling like a strange visitor in someone else's home and yet trying your hardest to imagine yourself living there. I pause by the sofa and turn around, to find Dov pulling his shoes off next to the anal-y neat shoe rack by the door. I raise my eyebrows at him as he stands back up, and he gives me a look that says please Gail, behave yourself. I hate that look. It's the one my mother gives me on a weekly basis. If anything, it tends to make me want to do so even less than before, when misbehaving wasn't even on my mind. I leave my shoes firmly on my feet, and honestly Holly doesn't really seem to mind or notice. If anything she gives me a very warm smile, falters a little awkwardly, and looks down at her own bare feet on the wooden floors. Im not sure if I've scared her with the semi scowl still left on my face from Dov, or just made her feel a little shy by my intense gaze. Note to self: don't stare at people so much.
"So, the kitchen is through there," she tells me, pointing towards the opening at the end of the living room that leads into another, "downstairs is the room that Dov is planning to rent, and there used to be an old rec room - it's filled with junk now, but I have been meaning to clean it out, and honestly most of it can probably be chucked, about 70% of the boxes are just old research, so, if you ever wanted some extra space, you know, you could feel free to clear it out and use it. Upstairs, there is another bedroom with a study and a small veranda, and then the next level up is my room. You're welcome to, show yourselves around, and I'll be in the kitchen if you have any questions." She pauses for a moment, and then walks past me, head ducked slightly, to pick up some books sitting on the end of the couch, clutching them against her chest as she walks through into the kitchen. I glance across at Dov, who is mouthing silently to me to take off my shoes, give him a small smirk, and then walk towards the stair case.
"Downstairs first?"
...
The lower level doesn't interest me too much, mostly because that is where Dov will be sleeping, so, who cares. After Dov has finished proudly showing me his new room to be (I remind him several time he hasn't actually signed a lease yet) I step into the hall, and begin to walk down towards this rec room. I pause to peek into the small bathroom at the end of the hall, and then turn the corner, much to Dov's protests. It's a large room, but dark and dusty and filled with crap, she was right. There are boxes stacked everywhere, but right at the back, behind some plain, thin curtains that are falling down from their hooks, are large glass doors that obviously open up into the backyard. Dov appears at my shoulder, and tugs on the end of my sleeve, and I begrudgingly leave.
"It has potential," I tell him, finding amusement in his irritation with me. This is why I don't have a lot of friends, Dov barely puts up with me as it is.
...
We are about to walk back downstairs after surveying the second level, when I pause at the stair well, and move to the side that leads up instead of down. Dov gives me a warning look, that I ignore, before tiptoeing up the wooden stair case in my sneakers. They creak a little, and I am almost wishing that I had actually taken my shoes off, purely for stealth. As I reach the top of the stairs I find I am in the upper most room of the house. It feels small, in a kind of comfortable, cosy way. On one side is a large glass door that opens up onto a rooftop terrace. The room itself is full and yet incredibly tidy. There's a large desk near the doors to the terrace that is covered in books, which seem to be organised neatly into piles and categories, there are sticky notes everywhere, and a large calendar on the wall above which has scribblings in almost every day of the week, assignments circled in red pen and underlined several times. Her bed is on the far wall, where the roof steeps down suddenly, making the space feel like a blanket fort. I am taking it all in with intrigue when I feel a hand at the back of my shirt, and I turn quickly, on instinct reaching out, my hands gripping Dov's shirt in a move that would have slammed him into the opposite wall if I hadn't recognised his face and stopped. He looks slightly pale, and I offer him a grin, releasing my grip and dusting off his shirt.
"Sorry. My parents put me through self defences classes pretty rigerously," I laugh. He rolls his eyes, and then uses them to indicate back down the stairs, where he would like me to follow him. I oblige, mostly because I don't really want to be caught snooping in this woman's bedroom.
When we walk back through the living room into the kitchen, the kettle is whistling loudly. Dov walks straight over towards where Holly is standing while i take in the room. It's a really nice sized kitchen to be honest, dark stone counter top and a breakfast bar, and behind it a small dining table against the large windows that look down on the backyard. This place is really quite big, not at all what I was expecting. I turn around and find Holly looking at me expectantly.
"Coffee? Tea? Juice?" she asks, looking back at the kitchen before adding, "Um, water? I am running out of options." She gives a short laugh, but it is loud and sincere, filling the room. I let my lips form a small smile as I walk back over to lean against the counter top.
"Coffee sounds great, thanks," I answer, somewhat thankful for the caffeine hit, seeing as Dov seems to have decided to ban me, refusing to stop at Starbucks on the way despite the fact that I pulled out my app, informing him of every single one we would be driving past on the way, and there were quite a few. I watch Holly as she reaches up and pulls a ceramic mug from the top cupboard. She's quite young really, much younger than I had assumed she would be that is.
"This is a nice house," I tell her as she pours my coffee. She glances up, eyes catching mine from behind her glasses and curtain of dark hair. They're a rich, warm brown, like treated timber floors. Something about them says solidarity and steadiness, and they look far older than her face.
"Thanks," she replies, placing the coffee pot back down, the dark liquid swaying from side to side, "This is actually my first time ever renting out any of the rooms, I'm pretty new at this. You wouldn't believe some of the crazy people I've had apply, you two are easily the most normal." She laughs, looking up at me, and when I don't smile back, mostly because I am impatiently waiting for my coffee, she turns and looks at Dov who is smiling at her a little too much, and I reckon she is probably changing her mind about that right now.
"So, you own this?" I ask, just to be sure. Dov was probably too smitten to even ask any common sense questions. Holly blushes crimson and gives a small nod.
"Yup." I frown as she brings my coffee over. She really can't be more than a few years older than me, how is that possible? Isn't it three years undergrad, then medicine? So that's maybe four or five years, depending on what year she's in. Twenty three is awfully young to own a house. My mouth speaks instantaneously in unison with my thoughts, the words coming out before i have finished processing.
"But, you're a med student, right? Are you running a methlab in the basement? Cos I have to say, that might be an issue." I can feel Dov's glare burning into the side of my head as I speak, and am aware that I am probably standing very close to a socially acceptable line, with the possibility of tripping over it at any moment. Holly's head tilts just slightly to the side in a thoughtful way, and she laughs.
"No, um, I inherited it actually," she informs me. Her voice has a kind of gentle strength to the way she speaks that tells less of shyness and more of a calm, quite nature.
"Wow, nice present from the grandparents, huh?" I grin. Her expression falters, and I realise that this is probably a bit of a dicky thing to say. Why did that sound better in my head?
"My parents, actually," she replies, her fingers drawing invisible patters over the bench top absentmindedly. My stomach drops a little, as does my expression.
"Oh, shit. Sorry." Wow, well done Gail. Good luck getting the room now. I drag my teeth across my bottom lip anxiously. To make matters worse Dov is walking over.
"Wow Gail, how is parents somehow worse than grandparents?" he asks, and I finally look up to see the disapproving look all over his face. I give a shrug, and try to play it cool, as though I don't feel like a massive tool right now.
"… well grandparents are old, you know? You're expecting them to die soon," I offer meekly, chewing on the inside of my cheek before taking a large sip of my coffee, gulping it down despite how hot it is inside my mouth. When I have the courage to glance at Holly again there is a small smile tugging at one corner of her mouth, and she catches my eye for a moment, before Dov pulls her focus as he speaks again.
"I am really sorry, I promise, she's not usually this much of an asshole," he tells her, pauses, and then shakes his head, his floppy brown fringe swaying, "Well she kind of is, but, you get used to her. After a while." Unfortunatley he is too far away for me to be able to thump him in the arm, so my only option is to stare daggers at him. However it seems to make Holly laugh, and for some reason that lessons my irritation at his comments. Not that this will stop me from giving him a bruised arm later when he drops me home. If he drops me home, I remind myself that he is actually my lift today so I had better start being a little nicer if I don't want to be catching public transport.
I finish my coffee and Dov, being a total kiss-up, rinses the cup for Holly before we go. She's talking details with him as we walk back through the living room, so I zone out because, boring, and I am concentrating on the living room again, on the large fuzzy dark blue rug in the middle of the floor and the photos sitting on the mantle, and i think how weird to be so young and be living in your dead parents house. I thank god that this thought stays firmly inside my head, because I have surely embarrassed myself and made Holly feel bad enough for one day. It is in this thought that in one swift moment I feel my toe jar, my mouth fall open and a screeching sound echo up my throat as I stumble forward. This is why I should concentrate more on where I am going. The pain radiates through my big toe back down the rest of my foot, in a fierce throbbing sensation. I am reasonably certain I have dropped a curse word. This is most likely one of the worst impressions I have ever really made on another person. Why am I thinking about that when my toe is in absolute agony? I am not really sure to be honest. I groan, and lean against the back of the sofa, who's wooden leg I just kicked with full force. I am biting down on my bottom lip very hard when I realise that Holly is standing next to me, her hand sitting lightly against my lower back.
"Are you okay?" I look up at her as she asks, wincing, and give a very small nod of my head to indicate as such. She looks dubious and bends down to closer inspect my foot, quickly pulling off my shoe without actually asking, and discarding my sock, to look at my toe. I am suddenly really wishing I had checked to make sure those were clean socks. I grabbed them off the floor this morning from a pile in the corner that is a dubious mix of old and new clothes. Holly doesn't seem to notice as she inspects my injury.
"I think it's broken," I whine, and she looks back up at me through her glasses, the reflection of the living room light hanging overhead catching overtheir surface and throwing a glare across her bright brown eyes. Mildly amused she let's my foot go and stands back up.
"I can assure you that is nothing but a bad bruise," she insists, "I am diagnosing you a hypercondriac though. I can get you a bandaid if that would make you feel better?" I scowl and shake my head vehemently no, pulling my sock back on hastily and shoving my foot back into my shoe. The pain is still pretty bad, but I am certainly not going to ask for an aspirin after that brash diagnosis. Someone is going to need to improve their beside manner, I think to myself moodily as Holly leads us back to the front door. As we walk down the front steps, the second from the top letting out a squeak with each step that falls on it, Dov is grinning happily.
"It's great, huh?" he says, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans in a dweeby manner that makes me really want to smack him. But I am going to wait till we are out of sight of the house. I get the feeling he is talking as much about the woman as the house.
"A bit obnoxious," I comment, rolling my eyes as I think of the brunette, and her dorky glasses, and her quiet nerdy attitude. The house is nice, but I am not going to admit that just yet. I am yanking open the car door when I look up and find Dov watching me with an amused expression. Was I mutter under my breath my accident? I run my tongue subconsciously over my teeth before i reply, just in case.
"What?" I snap. He laughs, shaking his head as he slides into the drivers side and does up his seatbelt. I climb in as well, pulling the door closed behind me with force, and yanking so hard at my seatbelt that the automatic lock stops it from moving. I sigh, letting go, my arms crossed over my chest, as Dov starts up the engine.
"The house is obnoxious? Or Holly is?" he asks as he pulls back out onto the street. I could have asked him the same thing. I finally manage to get my seatbelt and pull it down across me to clip in. When I am certain that we are out of sight of the house I lean across and punch Dov hard in the upper arm, causing him to swerve just slightly for a split second as he cries out in pain. I did check first that there were no cars or pedestrians in sight. As he rights the car again he looks over at me and I give a bright grin.
"I'm feeling a lot better now."