Status: Being Rewritten

The Wall Between

The Name Game

It had been a week since Clarke had seen her neighbor in room forty-nine. He hadn’t been in the halls or in the elevator, and he had been particularly quiet next door. Clarke knew that this meant he was out of town, out on the road playing hockey and gone for either a week or two. The relief that had flood her when she realized he was out of town was great enough to make her feel slightly guilty.

What Clarke’s neighbor did wasn’t her business. But it was hard to ignore what wasn’t her business when it was making her desk shake and when it was ruining her study hours, as it often did.

With her feet folded into the chair and her anatomy book open, she took notes, scrawling in messy, blue handwriting. She had one more semester to go at University of Texas Southwestern. UT Southwester was a prestigious medical school, and it was kicking her ass as she attempted to major in sports medicine.

At a young age, Clarke had known she loved sports. She used to go to all of her brothers football games and she herself had picked up soccer as a sport- which she still played when she could. Early on, though, she saw the ugly side of sports, the side where injuries lurked.

Collin had torn his ACL, an injury that required surgery and that put him out of high school football and out of the prospective view of colleges and scholarships. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. The Beaumonts had plenty of money to send Collin to school, but it was watching her brother’s dream crumble that made Clarke want to do something about it.

So she majored in sports medicine. She wanted to help players get back into the game, she wanted to find ways to make sure that players who suffered injuries and defeats on their body could continue to do something that mattered to them. And Clarke was passionate about it, however odd of a passion it was.

Glancing at the clock, Clarke saw it was midnight. She had two more chapters to study through before putting the textbook away. Sighing, she knocked back the rest of her coffee and continued, tapping the end of her pen against the desk.

A sudden bang startled Clarke ten minutes later. She looked at her wall, making a face of confusion and surprise. It was obvious number forty-nine was home and had just knocked something into the wall. Clarke shook her head and went back to the text before realizing that what he had just knocked into the wall was a girl, because Clarke was starting to hear the frenzy.

Clarke clicked on her iTunes, bringing up music to help drown out the sound. It helped at first and she was able to go back to studying before the headboard began beating her wall to death, shaking the picture frames and the tacks holding up her map. She sighed in frustrated and looked harder at the textbook, as if the words were going to drown out the wild sex that was commencing.

At first, Clarke thought she was going to be able to get through it. She had gotten through it before, right? But this was loud, one of his louder sessions that she was wondering if Tyler Seguin was actually fucking the headboard instead of a human being.

Glancing at the clock, Clarke felt desperate. There was no way that she could escape the noise in her bedroom in the next room over and she could probably mute the most of it in her living room, but it required to leave her zen study space and study uncomfortably on the couch. With no other option- other than banging on his door- Clarke picked up her things and shuffled to the living room, exhaustion and annoyance seeping in her veins.

While she sat on the ground at her coffee table, Clarke shot a text to Piper asking how one person could possibly be that loud. Piper sent her condolences and the proceeded to deeply discuss what the hockey player could have possibly been doing in that bedroom to elicit the sounds and the sheer banging headboard that he did. Clarke couldn’t imagine either. None of her sexual partners had ever made her scream like that nor had she ever nearly broken a piece of furniture in the heat of the moment.

At three, Clarke retired to her bedroom. The silence from the next apartment over made her grateful as she dragged herself into the bed, which Dixie had already occupied half of. The lab was taking up the entire bottom of the bed, making Clarke bunch of her legs and roll herself in the blanket, sighing heavily and quickly murmuring a prayer before bed, something she had done since she was little.

With silence and Dixie curled at her feet, putting her head on Clarke’s feet, Clarke fell asleep.

Image

Dallas was bright and hot in the morning. Girls in scrubs walked by Clarke as she walked quickly across the green grass, her backpack slung on her arm and her face drained of color. She was exhausted after her exam and late night. Her hair was wavy and sticking up in different direction, a brush not enough to tame the brown hair that faded to slight blond at the tips. Her hazel eyes were bloodshot and as she slipped into her car, she leaned back in the seat, taking a deep breath.

Not even the beautiful weather could make her less tired. Normally the crisp hair and the extremely green campus could make her happier. There were few things more that Clarke loved than just being outside, especially in the south. She had only been up north a few times, but she hated it every time.

Up north they didn’t have tea made purely out of sugar, and they didn’t have the light twang to their words that people in the south did. There weren’t big fields just outside of the tall buildings. There wasn’t that unique mix of big city slickers and old southern touches.

Driving home, all Clarke could think about was sleep. She had other things to do, like a paper on tendon injuries and the different types. Not to mention she technically had homework due the next day that she hadn’t even looked at, but it was hard when she had two classes the day before that were each three hours long and she had an exam to study for.

Everyone said college was hard. No one had mentioned that Clarke was going to lose most of her sanity, live next to someone who didn’t know what sleep was, and that she was going to eventually turn into a zombie and live her life in a constant state of tired.

Of course, Clarke had her fair share of nights out when she should have studied. But she was in the home stretch, ready to finish schooling and get a good job. She was already offered a paid internship with Dallas Cowboys when she graduated and as long as she kept up her grades, she should be able to do that for a few years before finding her own position in sports. She was lucky that she had the connection to the Cowboys that she did, her father having went to school with one of the trainers.

Clarke almost fell asleep in the elevator. She leaned against the mirror walls, closing her eyes lightly as it hummed on the way up. When it dinged open, she walked into the hall just as the same red head from the week before got in, smiling and waving a bit at Clarke. Clarke gave her a shy hello before walking to her own door, surprised to find Tyler still at his open door, watching the other girl go. Clarke was ready to be impressed if he was dating her. She rarely saw someone come back more than once.

“Alright, forty-seven?” Clarke didn’t realize he was talking to her until he knocked on the wall next to her head. She had been standing in front of the door looking at her keys vacantly. “Someone looks pretty tired there.”

“I’m fine,” she said curtly, curling her lip slightly at the memory of the sounds he had caused to disturb her studying. He raised his brows and shrugged, turning to leave her as she hesitated before continuing, “Actually I’m not. I don’t really know what it is you do in there with your girls but you totally disrupt my studying.”

Clarke’s neighbor leaned against the door with his arm above his head. He was casual, conversational, even. “Yikes, that loud? Never sounds that loud to me.”

“Well it is.” Tyler watched her without saying anything else. His eyes were a liquid brown, just watching her face with a small smile tugging his lips, like he was enjoying the conversation. Clarke cleared her throat and added, “So can you please keep it down? I know it’s not my business, it’s just hard to study.”

“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’ as he leaned away from the door, shooting her a grin. “Would hate to ruin your studying and all. What’re you studying for?”

Though it was an innocent question, Clarke suddenly didn’t want to answer it. She shoved the keys in the door, turning it quickly and opening it. Dixie barked happily somewhere in the apartment. “For school.”

“Obviously. You have a dog? I-"

“I’m sorry if this sounds rude but I’m exhausted because I didn’t exactly sleep last night.”

Tyler looked put out for a moment. He recovered quickly, shrugging and giving her a small wave before backing off and entering his own apartment, whistling loudly for his own animal, she assumed. “Later.”

A twinge of guilt filled Clarke as she bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of Dixie’s head. The lab followed her to the room where she filled her bowl with food and the other with water, promising to take her on a walk in an hour. Not that Dixie could tell time. Clarke still felt like it was important to tell her dog her plans, regardless of how strange it was.

After a shower and a change of clothes, Clarke was bending over to put her leash on Dixie when there was a knock at her door. Frowning, she trailed to the door, silently wondering if her infamous neighbor was knocking on her door. Clarke wasn’t expecting Piper or either one of her siblings, and Jonah was out of town so it couldn’t be the other third person to her trio with Piper.

Opening the door, Clarke was only half surprised to see Tyler leaning against the wall, whistling. She raised her perfect brows at him. Her neighbor had only knocked on her door twice since they had lived there, one time being when he needed milk and the other time when the post office had dropped off a package at his door instead of hers.

“Need milk?” she offered.

He turned to face, her shaking his head. He was in a t-shirt and jeans, the white fabric straining against his muscled chest and the dark swirl of the tattoos winding down his arms extremely black against the light colored shirt. “I really did want to apologize for fucking up your studying,” he said, soundly slightly more genuine than earlier that day. “Was wondering if I could make it up to you over coffee?”

“Actually I’m about to walk, Dixie and then I’ve got some assignments to do.”

“Actually, I have to walk Marsh.” At Clarke’s clueless gaze, he smiled. His smile was nice, the kind that most people thought was infectious. Clarke didn’t return it, unsure of why he wanted to get coffee with her but also knowing exactly why he wanted to get coffee with her. And she was not interested. “My dog, Marshall.”

“Oh.”

“Can we join?”

Clarke chewed on her lip. She didn’t want to assume that he was hitting on her, but she also didn’t want to give him the idea that she was comfortable with that. “Yeah,” she said finally. If Tyler was attempting to flirt with her or romanticize walking their dogs, Clarke was comfortable enough to decline the notion. If he was walking the dog with her because he was being polite as a neighbor that was fine too. “Of course. I’ll just get Dixie.”

He grinned. “Okay.”

Clarke shut the door. She grabbed the leash and slid shoes on, bending down to click the white leash onto Dixie who sat patiently, pink tongue lolling out the side of her mouth as she pant. Straightening, Clarke grabbed plastic bags in case the lab decided to poop every where, shoving them in her back pocket and walking back to the door.

In the hall, Tyler was on his knee, ruffling his dog’s ears. His dog, as it turned out, was a chocolate lab only slightly larger than Dixie, and whose tail was wagging so hard that his entire furry body shook with excitement.

Glancing at her over his shoulder, Tyler smiled. “Nice breed,” he joked, standing up. Marshall, his dog that he had referred too was instantly pulling against the dark-green leash, pressing his dark nose to Dixie’s ears. The yellow lab was just as interested in Marshall, smelling him while sitting down, tail going. “Funny how that works out.”

“I guess so,” she offered, a small smile. “Shall we?”

Instantly it seemed the dogs were better off than their owners. The yellow and chocolate dogs trot side by side, their haunches nearly touching as they went from the hall to the elevator and then to the lobby. Not once did the animals nip at one another or growl. Their tongues hung excitedly out the sides of their mouths as they walked on.

Outside it was hot. The afternoon sun was heading towards the horizon, only a little ways off of sunset. The street was busy, traffic moving slowly in both directions. Silently, Clarke and Tyler both navigated towards the small park two blocks away where there were gates to keep the dogs and let them run around. Neither one of the them said anything to the other, but Clarke didn’t feel an itching need to talk. She did however, study Tyler out of the corner of her eye.

Tyler towered over her. Clarke considered her just below average height if not generally average. He was broader than her and his arms were strong as a hockey player’s should be. He had a thin beard and a subtle mustache, not scarce enough to look ridiculous but not enough to be too much. It suited him, Clarke thought.

A smile grin pulling at his lips told Clarke she had been caught staring at him. She glanced away, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. Well, she wasn’t sure what she didn’t want him to think. He was glaringly attractive, but Clarke didn’t really care about the guys like him that didn’t like relationships. She liked loving relationships that were easy going and that she had confidence in. Clarke had also never had her heartbroken and Tyler Seguin looked like he loved to break hearts.

“How long have you had Dixie?” Tyler asked Clarke. The approached the small dog park. The area was filled with mulch and was about fifty square feet. There was a small running fountain for dogs to drink out of, a few benches for owners and even a small copse of trees for shade. Only two other people were in the park, sitting on a bench as a boxer and a French bulldog played tug of war. “She looks young.”

“Yeah, she’s only two.”

“Marsh is three, even though he acts like he’s only a few months old.”

Both of them bent down to let go of their dogs. The two labs bolted off together, chasing one another around and completely ignoring the other dogs in the park. Tyler gestured with one tattooed arm to a bench near the dressed. Leash wrapped around her wrist, Clarke followed, sitting in the middle of the bench and folding up her legs, stained converse folding under her.

Sun glinted off the metal gating surrounded them. The sky was in that gold-to-orange stage that game before twilight. Clarke thought that the time before twilight was always the prettiest time of the day. It reminded her of the yellow orchid with orange throats, some of her favorites.

Tyler drew up one leg onto the bench, his arms wresting on his knee. The dark leash was wrapped around his wrist as his eyes followed the two dogs with interested and adoration. “Can I ask an embarrassing question?”

Clarke’s heart skipped slightly. What could possibly be embarrassing to him, the man who recklessly had sex with women against a shared wall and who was completely blasé about Clarke calling him out on it. “Depends on whether it’s going to embarrass me.”

He barked out in laughter, white teeth flashing with the spread of his lips. “No, not at all. It’s really just going to make me look not only like an idiot, but like a total asshole.”

“Then by all means.”

“I don’t know your name.”

Ah, of course he didn’t. Somehow Clarke was not surprised that her neighbor didn’t know her name, despite the fact that she had introduced herself to him last year when she moved in. Despite feeling slightly red in the cheeks that she knew who he was, she grinned. “Clarke.”

“That’s all I get? Clarke?”

“Beaumont.”

“Like the ranch?”

“Like the ranch.”

He nodded slowly, leaning back into the seat. Dixie was now running back and forth, biting air in front of Marshall as he followed her, trying to pounce on her playfully. Clarke wondered how easy it was for dogs to just get along with one another. They didn’t need to remember names. “Any relation to the Beaumont Ranch or just a happy coincidence?”

“Been in the family for years. I’m surprised that you know it.”

He shrugged. “Lots of people do. Good horses, lots of weddings there. One of my friends got married there. Lovely property.” Tyler then glanced at Clarke from the corner of his eye. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. “So you didn’t ask my name.”

“That’s because I know it.”

“Wow, that’s embarrassing.” Clarke made a face, instantly feeling self-conscious. He realized what he said and leapt forward, holding out his hands to allay her fears, sputtering, “No, not you! Me, embarrassing for me. I know you’ve told me your name and I just completely forgot it. Kind of rude of me, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure you hear lots of names.”

Tyler made a face at that but if he was going to reply, he didn’t get the chance. Dixie and Marshall both game trotting over, Dixie plopping on the ground and logging her head onto Clarke’s lap. She huffed once, clearly tired. Clarke poked the dog’s forehead, standing. “Tired then, girl? Let’s get you home.”

On the walk home, Clarke and Tyler kept silent. Clarke looked up at the buildings. All of the lights were beginning to glow in the oncoming darkness and the people on the sidewalks became thinned out, people getting ready for dinner. Clarke imagined that her mom and dad were sitting down at the dinner table already, sharing soft smiles with one another. Collin was probably eating at home with his group of friends, feet kicked up on the coffee table and on the couch, while Camille was probably attempting to feed her son.

Air conditioning greeted the pair and their dogs as they walked into the lobby. Tyler waved his hand at the guy behind the desk who looked about the same age as Clarke and Tyler. He had dark hair and bright green eyes, slightly taller than Clarke but not by a large amount. His name was Victor, she had seen it several times on his nametag.

In the elevator, Marshall laid down on the ground, absolutely exhausted. Tyler rolled his eyes at his dog, nudging him fondly with a foot. “Tough day, bud?”

Clarke smiled. “What a life.”

“Right? I wish I could play for thirty minutes and then just take a nap for six hours. Instead all I do is feel exhausted.”

“I can relate.” Tyler cut a glance at her. The metal doors opened and they walked out, Clarke first, followed by Tyler. Dixie went straight to the door, obviously thirsty. “I didn’t mean that as a jab or anything.”

“You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure. Can’t hear from my room. Not all the time, anyways.”

Once again, Clarke was struck with the feeling that he was unabashed by this. He shrugged his shoulder, not so much as frowning. It was like he expected his neighbors to take this simple fact with a grain of salt, some sort of add-on to living next to him. Clarke wasn’t necessarily annoyed by this fact, but she was certainly confused at how someone couldn't care less.

“I’m glad we went together,” Tyler said, stopping at his door and digging in his jean pocket for his keys. He unlocked the door and turned the handle, kicking the door open with the toe of his shoe. “And I’m glad I got to meet the beautiful Dixie.” The last part he said in a high-pitched voice, bending down and smiling at Dixie as she hopped up slightly, licking him in the face. He ruffled her ears before straightening. “She’s cute.”

Clarke nodded. “Thanks. So is Marshall here.” The dog in question was glued to Dixie, sitting next to her and looking up at Tyler with big, brown eyes. “I guess he found a new best friend.”

“I guess we’ll have to make sure they spend a lot of time together.” Clarke kicked the floor slightly, unsure of how she felt about that. Tyler seemed to sense her hesitation. “Whenever Dixie’s free, of course.”

“Yeah. I’ll let you know.”

Without much else to say, Clarke opened her up apartment, throwing up her fingers in a soft wave before whistling, causing an unhappy Dixie to turn and trot inside, dragging the white leash with her. “Later, forty-seven.”

“Same, forty-nine.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Outfit

Dixie and Marshall are going to be best friends.

C and T are going to be weird friends.

-N