Love Thy Neighbour

I felt like a prisoner of war as we passed the second gate. I began to feel suspicious towards our neighbours. Why was our neighbour’s house like a jail? Their security was as tight my dad’s wallet during the holidays. I looked at Mum. She didn’t seem to mind, she was repeatedly pressing the buzzer excitedly. Ant frowned at mum. Only seconds later, the door swung open.

“Ella!!”

A middle-aged woman had opened the door; she looked high class – neat and proper. Everything about her politely screamed ‘Perfection!’. Although what I really noticed was her eyes. Her eyes were blue, but there was a certain something behind them.

“Natale!!”

Squeals. Loud squeals. In all my years of being alive, I have never seen my mum like this, and that definitely freaked me out. As well as Ant. Ant watched in horror as mum and that woman act like an over-excited teenage girl squeal and jump, jump and squeal. Suddenly, I hoped the saying ‘children will grow up to be like their parents’ was not true. I was embarrassing enough as it is, thank you.

Suddenly, the woman turned to Ant and me. I flinched. Although the woman appeared delicate and reserved in her floral Gucci dress and neat tied back bun, I knew she was capable much more than doing her nails, gossiping and spending money.

“Come in, come in!!” She motioned us all to enter her house. Seeing how Ant and I were hesitating, she then whisked us all inside.

“How are you Natale? How is your children and husband? I hope they’re well. We really do need to catch up the last time we have – wow! I do love your flower arrangements over there! Say, that reminds me! Have you – oh my goodness! Your sofa! Your sofa is simply divine!”

“Me? Quite fine. My husband is working as usual and my children have – oh Ella! You know I had always been picky with detail! Although, I can proudly say that my son had actually made me those flower arrangements! Isn’t beautiful? Oh, that Sofa? That was a gift from my dear. But enough of that! How about you Ella? You still look beautiful! You hardly aged since we last met! And my, your children! How they have grown! Just as gorgeous as you...”

Okay. I have now mentally tuned out from the two women rambling. It was as if she and my mum spoke through monologues!

As the woman (‘Call me Auntie Natale!’) began ushering us to the living room, I couldn’t help but be awed by the interiors and furniture inside. Even Ant was in awe. His PSP was off and away – and that says something.

It was obvious these people had money. Although, I could not help but wonder how mum had a friend this rich – or how she knew such people. I looked at my mum. She had acted as if it was perfectly normal to walk in a huge glamorous mansion with furniture that would make any furniture stores jealous. I’m not saying mum was not impressed, but it was more like mum was impressed by how the mansion was decorated rather than what it was decorated with.

“They’re here!” Auntie Natale sang as she entered the living room. I bit my lip. Meeting our new neighbours was making me anxious.

As we entered the room, two of the three men stood up. The shorter man, obviously being Auntie Nat’s husband nodded at us. I mentally named him ‘Mr. Natale’ since I couldn’t remember his name, but felt too embarrassed to ask for it. Although Mr. Natale appeared in his late forties, he had this superior aura. He had striking dark hair and his aristocratic features were still distinct and sharp.

“Welcome.” He said as he shook all of our hands. But when it was my turn, he seemed strangely suspicious and looked at me straight in the eye and frowned. “Welcome.”

Something about him made me feel really self-conscious. I don’t know why. But I tried to return his handshake equally as firm. “Thank-you.”

I looked at the other two people in the room. Auntie Nat said she had three sons, but only two guys were here. I’m guessing it was the elder son who was the other guy who stood up. He appeared to be in his early twenties and had greatly resembled his father. He was like the younger version of Mr. Natale and I couldn’t help but stare. His face was sharp and symmetrical and his built was of a strong and sturdy one.

“Kurtis. Kurtis Jean Valentino. Or Kurt for short.” He held out his hand and shook all of our hands.

The other son, who was lazily lounging on the sofa then stood up. He slowly reached for the T.V remote and switched off the T.V. His movements were slow and languid. He also had a bit of a slouch. Unlike his elder brother, he wasn’t as built – he was tall and lanky. Like a bean pole. His face was less angular and his eyes were hazel like his brother and father.

He smiled lazily, “I’m Kal or Kallisto if you want to get technical.” He winked at me.

I willed myself not to blush.

“Nice to meet you all.” Kal nodded. I decided to call him ‘Kal’ since I didn’t want to ‘get technical’ with him or something.

Mr. Natale frowned at Kal.

“Oh yeah,” said Kal as he began shaking hands with us, “What’s your names?”

I noticed I had to strain my ears to understand Kal. Kal had spoken in a long drawl, which almost sounded like he was slurring.

My brother opened his mouth. “Wait,” Kal interrupted, “I remember you.”

Ant raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“Yeah, yeah. We met when we were younger, remember?” asked Kal.

Ant and I gave him a weird look. I don’t remember him from anywhere.

Kal was too busy concentrating and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Anthony… no, Andrew… no… Ah-hah!” Kallisto pointed at Ant, “Antoinette!”

It took everything in me to not laugh out loud. Instead I tried to distract myself on concentrating at the design on the carpet.

“I’m Antonio.” My brother responded darkly.

Kal grinned. “Close enough.”

Despite the fact the name ‘Antoinette’ was a flamboyant girl name.

“Antonio-Jordano,” my brother ignored Kal, “or just ‘Ant’. And that is my little sister Lyzelle – ”

“What? You’re siblings?” Kal blurted, “You two look nothing alike!”

“Kal!” Auntie Nat scolded while Mr. Natale and Kurt shook their heads at him.

“What? I’m just saying.”

But it was true. Although the age difference between Ant and me was only one year, Ant being the eldest, we really did not look anything alike. Yes, we both resembled our parents, since Ant had inherited dad’s black hair and mum’s green eyes. I, on the other hand had received mum’s brown hair but dad’s violet eyes. Technically, our eyes weren’t really ‘violet’, they only look ‘violet’ in the sunlight and dad just likes calling them ‘violet’. Dad also says that ‘violet’ eyes were extremely rare, but was a common trait that always ran in the ‘Costanzo blood’.

But even so – not even our facial structure was similar. Ant had a more angular and defined facial structure. I had a more softer and somewhat feminine facial structure only with higher cheekbones (at least I hoped, or liked to think my face was feminine, softer and had higher cheekbones). But besides sharing last names, the only thing we had in common was our passion for Pokemon and our straight little noses.

Auntie Nat sighed, dismissing Kal’s statements. “Anyway Kal, where is your little brother? I told him to be ready by six.”

Kal shrugged, “He came home pretty late.”

Suddenly, Mr. Natale’s face hardened, “You’re late, son.”

Everyone turned to the latecomer.

I gasped in horror. I definitely recognized this person. I stared at him in horror and in disgust. He returned my gaze. He didn’t even avert his eyes from me as he entered the room or murmured an excuse to his parents. The way he was looking at me was pretty intense, but I was too angry to feel intimidated or embarrassed.

“You!” I cried, pointing accusingly at him, “I know you!”

He chuckled, but said nothing. Still holding my gaze.

Mum smiled, “What are you talking about? Of course you know him, dear.”

I broke away from his penetrating gaze and blinked dumbly at my mum, “Huh?”

My mum smiled dreamily at me, or to be exact, dreamily at him and at me. “You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Wasn’t he your childhood sweetheart?”

“HUH?!” I slowly turned back to face him.

He smiled and then murmured, “It’s me, Kaz.”

“Aaarrrrgghhh!!”

I fell backwards from shock. My mind slowly processing the news, “B-but… you… th-this morning?!”

This time, he grinned. “I see that you fixed up the mess on your face, Lyzelle.”

My hands consciously found their way to my face. Then, my mouth dropped in sudden realization: I just crashed my car into my childhood ‘sweetheart’ whilst looking beyond stupid to borderline pathetic from the red lipstick smeared all over my face.
He condescendingly smirked at me, as if reading my thoughts.

HOW COULD HE BE MY CHILDHOOD SWEETHEART?!