I felt ridiculous, standing on the front porch like that, the rain coming down in torrents from the porch roof, waiting for someone to come to the door. The minute I stood there felt like an hour. I’d procrastinated for a few hours already – what a geek, waiting to say hello to the neighbors, to make some new friends, someone to say hello with when I sit in my front window and see passing by, someone to hang out with, if I’m lucky.

I was just turning to jog back through the rain to my own door when the deadbolt turned and a sleepy looking blonde kid leaned out, squinting against the gray light, shaking his head and grinning. “Hello?”

“Hi!” I said, my awkwardness translating too smoothly into enthusiasm. “I’m Katie. Just moved in next door.”

He looked along the front of the complex from the edge of his eye. “Oh.” Then as if remembering himself, “I’m Kyle.”

I stood, a funny smile on my face. Must have looked so awkward to him. I don’t know what I was expecting, or what I even wanted. I’d done the introductions, he knew me, maybe would smile in passing, time to go. I almost turned away before he smiled and shook his head, “Would you like to come inside? Me and my roommate have a pizza cooling, we’re hanging out if you’d like.”

“I don’t mean to impose but yeah,” Nodding. Smiling. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

He beckoned and turned to go back down the dark hallway. The exaggerated sounds of gunfire and explosions came from deeper inside the apartment. Theirs was bigger than mine, stairs going up the side to a second floor, the short hallway opening into a living room with a big screen television, way too many movies, road signs littering the walls, and a messy kitchen.

“Mark, this is Katie, she’s new next door, looking for hip, cool kids in the neighborhood to hang with.”

“Good thing she found us first.”

“Lucky indeed.”

“Hello.”

“Hi there,” I said.

I liked them almost immediately, though my sense of comfort didn’t dwindle until much later. I still felt like an intruder, as if the presence of the stranger in my own place had seeped through the wall to find me. I didn’t like it.

“Where are you from, Katie?” Mark asked, staring at the television screen, blowing someone up. “It’s Katie, right?”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

“I’m from Philadelphia. Born and raised.”

“Wow, nice. East coast.”

“Yes.”

“Why’d you come out to Colorado. Going to school?” Kyle asked.

Dodging the question is more difficult in person than in writing. There’s not as much time to think. But after talking to moving companies, apartment complex owners, and the like, I was getting better at it.

“Needed a change.”

“Change?”

“Some bad stuff happened back at home. I needed to get away. Passed through Colorado once, thought I’d revisit.”

Kyle grunted, Mark’s character died. Alluding to bad things is normally enough to turn the conversation awkward, away. Places no one wants to go or pry into.

The conversation spiraled from there. Not south, mind you, but it spiraled, soaring around anything particularly meaningful and jumping from sexual innuendoes, inside jokes, talk of the game Mark was playing, talk of finals and tests and the end of the semester, the bizarre weather patterns. When conversation did turn my way it was generally tender, even everyday questions about where I went to school, whether I was still an undergrad, what kind of work I’d done, and my year in California were hesitant, probing, making sure that whatever black mark on my past was not too directly related to any one of these avenues. Gradually they became more comfortable, knowing what was safe, where was comfortable area to tread. I tried not to think about it too much, to worry if it would come up in conversation. I wouldn’t know how to handle myself if it did. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a worry or a fear if these last few days weren’t so focused on it, on the memory, on the loss.

But I put on a smile and I made the small talk and it was nice, and it passed the time and when Mark tossed his controller on the ottoman and announced that he should go study or more likely take a nap I decided it was best that I not overstay my welcome, so I stood up and thanked them for the slice of pizza, made sure to let them know I had a lot of free time and if they were ever looking for company, I was only next door.

“Same here. Mark is leaving in a week for a summer study abroad – a week? Jesus, that’s soon dude.”

“Yeah, right? I’ve been so bogged down in finals I’ve barely been thinking about it.”

“Crazy. But yeah, I’ll be around this summer for a while – I think,” he rolled his eyes at Mark but I didn’t follow the thought between them. “We’re having a bar-b-que on Monday if you’d like to stop by, playing ultimate, swimming, volleyball, just hanging out in one last big get together before we scatter for the summer. You should come.”

I smiled. “I think I will. That’d be great.”

“Awesome,” Kyle said, walking me to the door.

“Look, before I go,” I stopped in the doorway. The rain outside had lessened and only came down in a light drizzle. The spray felt nice, but I shivered. “You or your roommates didn’t come pounding on my door at two thirty last night, did you?”

He seemed genuinely confused at the obscure nature of the question and shook his head. “No, I was in bed, as were my roommates I think.”

“No drunken shenanigans?”

“No, no drinking last night. Why? Someone wake you up last night?”

I nodded and laughed, then shook my head. “Yeah, just wanted to see if I should return the favor at some point tonight.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “Then I definitely deny all connection!”

We laughed together, said goodbye, and I walked next door, hopping onto my porch and into the apartment, not even worried about the rain. I closed the door behind me and dropped my keys in the bowl by the door, my smile falling as I looked around the living room. I’d hoped that the feeling of acceptance and friendship I’d found next door would permeate my place in the same way it seemed to permeate me. But I was wrong. Maybe whatever odd chi imbalance I called the Stranger still lingered, or maybe it was only the desolation that my own place held for me after the warmth and joy of community that I’d seen and then said goodbye to only next door.

I turned the television on to add some white noise and picked up my phone to enter the BBQ onto my calendar. I didn’t want to miss that. I was stretching my neck out and doing something that for the first time in three months, finally felt good.

It felt nice.