Chapter 2

“Jackson Young? As in, the Jackson Young?” I got Nelson to FaceTime me right away and told him about the e-mail. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not! It’s him! The Jackson Young from next door!” I read him the e-mail twice now, yet he still doesn’t believe me.

“I’m your next door,” he replied, raising one eyebrow at me.

“Okay, fine. The other next door neighbor!”

Apparently, in the small village of Addersfield, Jackson Young is really popular. Not celebrity-like popular, but everyone in the village knew him. He was a straight-A student, the teacher’s favorite, a talented musician, a kind boy with a pretty face — he’s the all-rounder type of guy. Everybody loved him and his rendition of “I can be your hero baby”. He’s quite the singer too.

We never really had the same classes which explains why we never actually got to talking. Also that my personality is a very different spectrum compared to his. Someone who’s as self-absorbed as I am knew better not to embarrass myself in front of another person. Not that I care about embarrassing myself in front of him. And not that I’d be the one strike up a conversation first.

  “Go and write a reply! A-S-A-P!” Nelson snapped be out of my thoughts and stared at me with those audacious eyes.

“I don’t think I’m obliged to reply, though.”

“You do that or I’m gonna send him a message myself. Girl, know that Jackson Young is a snatch.”

Rolling my eyes, I had no choice but to say, “Fine.” I could never win in argument with Nelson. And I knew if I didn’t reply personally, he’d be the one to do it which will only bring embarrassment. Also, he is the one person who can actually force me to do anything.

“Yey!” He cheered in excitement, clapping his hands in front of his screen but at the same time flexing his freshly painted nails at me. “This could be the start of something new.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Aww, please tell me you’re crushing on him a little!”

“No,” I said flatly.

“Liar.” Nelson just giggled. He likes teasing me like this. Unlike him, I have no experience of talking to guys. Him, on the other hand, gets to talk to lots of them. And he gets asked out on dates too. A lot.

“Girl, you better write that e-mail now. I have a class in five minutes.” And he’s an English teacher. He’s the best. His students love him so much that parents would send over gifts to his place as a token of their gratitude.

“Oh, sorry. Talk to you later.”

“You better tell me everything or I’ll barge into your house with Jackson in my arm,” he said before ending the call.

I stretched my fingers into the air and started typing. But I found myself deleting one word after the other as I couldn’t find the right the words to say. Funny for a person who writes for a living.

After some time, I finally came up with something.

From: Vera Lee <[e-mail]>

To: Jackson Young <jackson101@g***l.com>

Re: Hey :)

oh, hi!

i wanted to ask how you got my e-mail but then i realized you prolly got it from the auction site so yeah.

thanks again, neighbor, for letting me win the bid. :)

p.s. i’m not into smileys. that one up there is going to be my first and last

I’m not sure if Nelson would be proud, but that was my best.

The day went by so quickly. And I found myself refreshing my e-mails in every five to ten minutes. I’d write an article, and submit, then refresh my e-mails. I couldn’t believe I was waiting for a reply. I mean, why would I be waiting for a reply?

I left the room and went to watch Ghost Adventures on the flatscreen in the living room. To my surprise, I finished a whole episode without actually watching the episode. And that’s a first! I always watch Ghost Adventures intently. I couldn’t let Zak Bagans babble on about ghosts and poltergeists and not listen.

This is a first.

But also, that meant an hour lapsed.

I rushed to my room, checked on my e-mails again, but I got nothing. Not one reply from Jackson Young.

Now I found myself stupid for actually waiting. Why am I even like this? There shouldn’t be any waiting in the first place. I slammed the laptop shut and went back to the living room to rewatch the whole episode I took for granted.

One. Two. Three.

Three episodes. I finished three episodes. That’s three hours. I willed myself to just stay in the couch, and not go back to my bedroom just yet. But then I thought, I could just grab my laptop and have it sit right next to me.

And so I did.

I fought the urge to check my e-mails once again, but I did it anyway. And still, no e-mails from Jackson. But why was I even disappointed?

It was ten in the evening, and I was just switching channels on the TV. The news was filled with updates about the virus and the vaccines, but my mind was elsewhere. I wasn’t interested in the news. The news was the same every day! Do you know what’s not the same today?

Me.

I plopped to the couch and threw my legs in the air.

Jackson, Jackson, Jackson.

I was chanting his name inside my head. How come I never actually get to know him before?

Yes, I’ve seen him countless of times. He’s everywhere! And this is a small village, a small community. Yet I have no recollection of us interacting before.

I probably had crossed paths with him in the hallways before in school. I don’t know. I really can’t remember. Everything about school wasn’t that memorable for me.

I grabbed my phone and decided to call Nelson. I was bored, something new. I was never bored. I always knew what I had to do at a particular hour of the day. I plan things. I’m a planner. But not today.

Nelson didn’t answer the phone. I groaned as I got up and went to do all my before-going-to-bed routine. I washed up, brushed my teeth, applied night cream on my face and got into my pajamas.

I checked my phone, and there was no Nelson. I checked my e-mails, and there was no Jackson. I was alone. Again.

Just when I was about to sleep, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.

“Hello?” I answered in a sleepy voice.

“Hi, neighbor! You up?” I sat up on my bed almost immediately.

“Hey,” was all I could reply, but now in a lively tone. What was wrong with me?

I heard him chuckle on the other end before he continued. “I, uh, just wanted to let you know that I baked some cookies and left them on your doorstep. They’re properly sealed and sanitized, and I used gloves when I baked them so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, you bake?” I rushed to the door and saw a package wrapped in checkered in cloth. I took it in. It smelled so good that I wanted to taste one right away.

“Wow, thank you.” I told Jackson. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s this for?”

“Just a friendly gesture.” I could hear his smile over the phone. And I didn’t know why my heart fluttered for a bit.

I put the phone on speaker mode, and laid on the counter while I open Jackson’s box of cookies. I took a bite and my eyes widened in delight.

“Oh my gosh!” I squeaked with my mouth full. “Chocolate chip cookies never tasted this good!”

My reaction made Jackson laugh and said, “Really? It’s that good?”

“It is!” I took another bite and finished one big cookie. “I think I can finish all this tonight if I don’t stop.”

“Go easy on the sugar,” he replied, still laughing. “Glad you liked it.”

“I did! Thank you so much. I’ll just have one more and store the others in a tight jar.”

Surprisingly, we talked for what felt like hours after the cookie appreciation. This should’ve been weird because I’ve known him my whole life, but not like this. I mean, I know him, his face and why he’s appreciated by many. But this — this is different. I was actually getting to know him.

I told him about my job as a writer, and he told me about him being a software engineer who had a knack for stocks.

“I’m pretty good at it. I was surprised too,” he said.

“Must feel nice to be rich at a young age,” I commented.

“Trust me, I’ve never considered myself rich.”

“Humble. That’s good.”

I turned to check the time and saw that it was half past two.

“It’s 2:30 in the morning,” I gasped. “I think we should be sleeping now.”

“Yeah, well this was fun.”

“It was,” I agreed. And what went next was a dead air. I could hear him breathing on the other end.

To some people, the silence would have been awkward. But for me, it wasn’t. It was comforting. I don’t know how to explain it. My grandmother would use to say, “Sometimes, silence can connect us in ways words never could.” I never really understood what she meant by that. But now, I probably get it.

“So..” We both said simultaneously that got us bursting into laughter.

“Sorry, I thought you were already asleep,” he said.

“Yeah, no, I was uh — this was really fun.”

“Good night, Vera Lee. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Jackson Young.”

That night, I slept with an even bigger smile on my face. The cookies were superb, and the late night talk was comforting. I didn’t feel any ounce of awkwardness, and I just liked it.

This was good, I convinced myself. This was good.