Love, Milo
: Chapter 3

‘Bye, Mr. Evans!’ One of my students calls out, waving as she holds her mother’s hand. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I grin and wave goodbye to the little girl, Haven, her name is.

Today has been a long fucking day, and so has this week, and it’s not even over yet.

First, it was that woman who lives on the floor above me yelling at me a few days ago, and then it was me spilling tea on myself while teaching yesterday. And today, my head has been pounding like crazy from dealing with crazy, cranky children all day.

I sit in my car and sigh, thinking about that day two days ago. My brain seems unwilling to slip from my mind as I start my car and begin driving.

Raelynn.

I wonder what she’s up to. What does she do in her free time besides getting stuck in elevators? I didn’t exactly think things through when I pretended to be her boyfriend to her parents. It just… happened. And it worked, so I’m not sure why she got upset with me afterward.

I bite the inside of my bottom lip, simply thinking of her face. The piercing that hung from her septum, the rings she wore, the way her breast sat so… perfectly—

A car horn honks, and I glance at the streetlight. I wonder how long that’s been green for. I shake my head and the image of her out.

It’s not ideal to grow a boner while driving.

Turning the key in the ignition of my car, I press down on the gas and start driving.

The streets of NYC are ones most people would call hectic. It’s a fucking nightmare. I’ve come to miss London sometimes every time I start driving; traffic is inevitable here. I take a longer route home, avoiding the streets that would otherwise lead me into hypnotizing start-stop jams. I have no real reason to rush home. I have a few papers to fill out and lessons to plan, but other than that… I’m unsure why I need to get there so quickly.

I don’t have many people anyone to converse with either.

Getting to the front of the building takes less time than usual.

Sitting at the front desk is Edna Higgins, the security guard. I raise my hand as a hello, and she grins. She’s a fairly older woman in her fifties, the center of her eyes starting to wrinkle when she smiles.

‘Afternoon, Mr. Evans,’ she greets.

I walk to her, leaning on the desk. ‘Edna.’ A huff leaves me. I glance around the lobby. ‘You know of that new resident? The woman? Fairly tall,’ I measure her height with my hand just under my chin. ‘Very curly hair, big brown eyes…’

She nods while stacking some papers on the desk. ‘Yes, Raelynn Garcia?’

‘Garcia, yes. Is she home? Have you seen her… leave?’ Though calm and collected has never suited me, I try to sound nonchalant.

Edna shakes her head. ‘She should be home right now. Should I ring her apartment phone to tell her to come down, sir?’

I shake my head. ‘That won’t be necessary, I’ll go up.’ Just then, the door to the stairs opens, and a familiar face pops through, walking with her gaze pinned on the floor as if her mind wandered far from this world.

Raelynn. I grin.

‘Rae,’ my voice comes out rough as I call out to her. I clear my throat.

The thick curls falling past her shoulder blades whip to the left as she turns at the sound of her name. She wears a casual dress that flows and gives off a spring feeling. Tulips dress the dress. She carries gloves, but not ones for cold weather, but thick working gloves.

Her eyes jump to me as she halts her walk, then gives me a once over.

I hastily check my outfit. Black slacks, a suit jacket, and a white Oxford shirt under it. A light brown trench coat sits over it all. Hopefully, she finds nothing wrong with anything I have on.

I look back up at Raelynn, and she starts walking again. I follow her.

She doesn’t even turn around as she threatens me, ‘If you keep following me, I’ll have no choice but to call the police.’ I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

I grab her wrist and turn her around before she can get to the door. ‘I’m sorry,’ I exclaim. ‘For pretending to be your boyfriend.’

She yanks her hand away, and I refrain from frowning.

Why does she hate me?

Maybe because I told her I didn’t want her. I thought I was making her uncomfortable, so saying that was the first thing to mind.

She walks through the door, and I follow her despite her protest. The moment we step out, we navigate through the swarm of New Yorkers walking the narrow streets. Everyone is in a rush, and I learned that if you’re not, you should pretend to be when walking. A strong warm wind makes the corner of my coat flair, I flatten it with my hand.

I struggle to stay at her side. She’s much smaller than me and doesn’t bump into people as often.

‘Where are you headed?’ I ask her when I manage to catch up, out of breath. ‘I can drive you.’

‘Oh, was that your Tesla out front?’ She says without turning around or stopping her stride. ‘Figured.’

‘What does the kind of car I have matter?’

‘Nothing that your outfit doesn’t say by itself.’

My outfit? So, she doesn’t like it after all?

I frown now. ‘What’s wrong with my outfit?’ I find her side again as the street clears up. We turn a corner, and I continue at her side. I haven’t walked this fast in a long damn time.

She turns to look up at me for the first time. ‘Oh, nothing…’ she surveys me up and down.

‘Clearly, it’s not nothing, Lo—Raelynn, so tell me.’

She glares at me, darting her eyes around my face. Then stops moving. Annoyed New Yorkers give us ugly looks and walk around us. I grab her hand and pull her off to the side.

‘What do you want, Milo?’ She still holds those strange gloves, which I now realize are covered in dried dirt. What does she need those for—burying a body?

I look back at her. ‘I can’t be friends with my new upstairs neighbor?’

‘Are you friends with all your neighbors, or did you just decide to fuck with just me for whatever reason?’

I shrug my shoulders. ‘Not to the extent of friendship, but I’d say acquaintances.’

She tilts her head. ‘Why do you talk like that?’

I draw my brows together. ‘Like what?’

‘Like so… formal. It’s creeping me out, especially with your accent. You sound like you might give me a lecture.’

‘Well, I am a teacher.’

‘Well, I don’t think you’re in the middle of giving me a lesson, so…’

I tilt my head. ‘Depends, do you want me to?’ My tone lowers, and I smile.

She presses her lips together, her eyes darting from my face awkwardly. Her breath visibly quickens. ‘I’m going to pretend you didn’t just flirt in some weird… teacher language.’

‘I’m going to pretend you weren’t flustered.’

She turns around and walks away. I follow her again. Where the hell is she headed?

She ignores me. ‘Is there a reason you’re following me like some creep?’

‘Not really… Where are you going?’

She finally stops when she reaches the front of a gate that’s the width of two buildings, looks at me, and groans. “Since you don’t seem to be leaving me alone until you know, I might as well show you.” Behind the gate is, well, nature. A garden, plants, and small trees dress the entire space. In a city where green isn’t so common, this is like a splash of life to the green-less world surrounding it. From here, I can see through to the other street. It’s at least a few yards away.

She transfers the gloves in her hand to the other and takes a key from the purse draped across her chest. Opening the two white-painted gate doors. She walks in onto the cobblestone pavement below, and I do so, too, looking around at the leaves that hang overhead from nearby trees—creating a shallow canopy.

‘You should probably not touch anything before you get your clothes dirty with soil. I’m assuming you’re strict on that stuff.’

I shrug off my trench coat and drape it over my arm. ‘I don’t mind getting a little dirty. What is this place?’

She walks towards the small white table with chairs, sets her bag and keys down, and heads to the small glass greenhouse in the center.

‘My garden,’ she answers, looking at me over her shoulders. I place my coat on the table where she placed her purse and fall in the path with her toward the greenhouse.

‘You’re a hot plant, Mom. Nice.’

She glares at me and opens the greenhouse door—

An ear-throbbing scream leaves her.

‘No!’ She yells. My eyes widen as I watch her run to a tree and grab a broom leaning against it, then run back to the greenhouse, slamming the end of the broom against whatever is inside.

‘What’s going on?’

‘The fucking raccoons!’

Raccoons?

Then I see the large animal, its natural mask across his eyes, running across the greenhouse plants. Dirt sprays across the air from under its feet and hits me. My heart races at the sight of it. I haven’t seen one of those since I was in Central Park… years ago.

Raelynn looks terrified but oddly used to this. She stops in front of it with a broom, and it looks at her, hissing and standing on its two back legs with its legs up.

I run to Raelynn and place my hands on either side of her hips, pulling her away from that wild animal.

‘Milo, stop. I need it to get out.’ She wiggles, and I grip her tighter.

‘No, Rae, that thing is probably rabid. If it bites you, you could die.’

‘I’ve done this before, okay?’ She grips the broom tightly but doesn’t attempt to leave from between my hands, sitting on the curve of her hips. I feel her stomach fill and deflate with the quickness of her breaths, her dress rising a bit, crumpled in my hands. ‘I’m not scared of it.’

‘Yeah, you certainly don’t look like you are.’ I laugh out against her ear, and she scoffs. I can practically see her scowl while staring at the back of her head.

I take hold of the broom and let go of her, stepping towards the raccoon. Raelynn backs away.

Lifting the broom over my shoulder, I grill the animal as it stands on its back legs, the front paws raised high, in full attack mode. I eye the foam dripping like cottage cheese from the corner of its mouth. Not a good sign at all.

‘You’re an ugly son of a bitch,’ I say to it. It hisses back in retaliation.

‘Don’t ego trip the damn animal; get it out!’

I tighten my grip on the broom, raise it like I do a baseball bat, and hit the raccoon across the greenhouse. It bangs into the wall, shaking the structure, then drops to the floor with a thump. We stare at it, its limp body lying still.

Homerun.

I pull my sleeves up my arm, ignoring the large dirt stains on them, and stand beside Raelynn.

‘How’d I do?’ I question as we look at the raccoon that may or may not be dead. ‘Good, yeah?’

I see a slight sadness cross her face, but she rolls her eyes. ‘Oh, shut up and make yourself useful. Just get rid of it.’

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