All characters appearing or mentioned in this story are 18 years old or older. This story is a work of fiction and any reference or description to actual persons is unintentional.
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If you are enjoying these stories, leave a comment about what you liked or didn't, or things you want to ready more of. I'll take advice into consideration when I'm working out the next parts of the LoP stories.
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May 1998
I lived in my apartment for a little over a year and a half. In all that time I didn't really pay attention to any of my neighbors or their comings or goings. My apartment was on the second floor, but I had a window by the front door that showed my neighbors door and the stairwell we shared. I could see out and down the stairs normally, but on this afternoon I couldn't see anything. A large mattress was blocking the way and it looked stuck. Repeated back and forth actions of this seemingly free floating mattress did not help matters.
I went outside and called to the other side of the mattress.
"Would you like some help," I asked the mattress.
"For shits sake, yes please!" said the female voice of the mattress.
"I assume you're going into the next apartment?"
"Yes, the doors open but this thing is stuck."
I grabbed a side and helped maneuver the queen size mattress up the exceedingly narrow stairway. Once it was on its long side I got a look at the person hauling it up the stairs.
She was maybe a couple years older than me, fair skinned with a round face, an easy smile, and round sea green eyes. Her hair was a large pile of very curly brown locks that was currently let down and blowing in the wind.
"Hi," she said after getting the mattress on the landing. "I'm Leila."
"Paul," I replied. "Just getting moved in?"
"I've actually been here over a week. Today was the first day I actually had off to get my apartment sorted out."
We slid the mattress inside her place which was a mirror of my own apartment. We slid it into the bedroom where it flopped heavily to the floor.
"Thanks," she breathed gratefully, "that was a pain getting it even that far up the stairs." She held out her hand, which I shook. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," I said, shaking her hand. Looking around her apartment I noticed that there was close to nothing in there. Some old takeout boxes, a phone, and some mail on the kitchen counter.
"I know its pretty sparse," she said, noting my looking around, "I'm in my final year of nursing school and I was at the hospital this entire week. I only came home to sleep and then back to work. Night shift mostly, which is probably why we haven't met before now."
She jumped up on the counter to sit a moment, the only place to sit it seems. She was short, maybe 5'3", but had impressive curves from what I could tell. She was in jeans and a t-shirt so it was difficult to gauge accurately.
"My stuff is still in transit somewhere between Chicago, my last home, and here. The company promised to deliver yesterday, but called at the last minute to say it's gonna be delayed a few more days.
"I was tired of the blow up mattress so at least I have something soft to sleep on while I'm off the rest of the week."
It being Monday and after school and all, I decided to be neighborly. "You know," I started, "I know you don't know me, but there is a great place a few blocks away for rolled tacos. Good snack for after moving. Would you be interested? My treat."
Leila cocked her head at me a moment and smiled. "That sounds good. Especially if you're buying." She hopped down from the counter. "I'll meet you out front in a few minutes."
I stopped by my apartment to grab my keys and met her on the landing. She changed her shirt to a more (much more) low cut t-shirt that showed an impressive amount of cleavage. I of course did that auto-glance thing that all guys did but recovered quickly.
We walked down to the taco spot unhurriedly. It was a 15 minute walk, but that was typical for blocks in southern California; distance was measured in time traveled, not actual distance.
We chatted idly about her nursing program and I answered her questions about Rancho Hills. It was a typical suburb but had some fun spots as well. After tacos we stopped and played a few rounds of pool. The pool hall was typical for a town in that its where high school kids hung out to smoke in public cause they couldn't reliably get alcohol. This, Leila mentioned, was a commonality of every pool hall so we had a good time playing. She probably didn't have to bend so far over the table for a few shots, but I am certainly glad she did.
On the way back she asked about the pool at our complex and I mentioned it closes at 9. It being 7:30 meant there was time though and I offered to go swimming with her.
"I'd like to," she said, "but most of my clothes, including swim suits are still in limbo."
"Well," I said, "I have a few suits from when I had friends over. You can use one of those; they're clean and I think they'd fit."
She pondered this a moment. "Would these be the ones belonging to the woman I've spotted coming and going to your apartment?" She had a hint of playfulness in her voice.
I'm pretty sure my face reddened a bit. "I assure you those bikini's aren't what I wear to the pool," I said.
"I'd guessed that," Leila said. "Besides, from what I hear coming through the walls, I'd be surprised if your voice gets that high." She didn't even break stride as we walked back to the apartments. "I thought it might have been cheesy horror movies, but you mentioned you don't have a TV, so I put 2 and 2 together."
My face definitely reddened a bit at that statement. "So, you can hear that well?"