Free Social Neighbor (The Social Series Book 1) by J.L. Mac Page B

wall in the living room to deliver a blow with my foot. I hopped on my other foot as a bolt of pain shot through my toes and up my shin. “Gah! Ass! Hole!”
    Displaced chocolate chip cookies were my lunch for the day and they would have to suffice. They did little in terms of proper sustenance but they plied my wounded ego just fine.
    I managed to scarf down six cookies and the last of the milk in the carton before will power to walk away finally kicked in. Mr. Wall Ball was a moron for not taking the cookies. His loss.
    If I were smart, I would have focused on channeling my frustration to get a few illustrations done before my day off was completely wasted, but my unpleasant morning had spoiled my creative appetite and the sugar high that I’d been floating on for the last half an hour was tanking. It was just as well, I supposed. I was tired anyway.
    The only upside to my ruined day off was the Law and Order marathon that was playing on the television. My eyes peered over at my work in progress then back to the TV. It was no use beating myself up over it. I would just have to try again the next day even if I had to remand myself to our apartment until some progress had been made.
    “Prick,” I muttered, still angry with my ghost of a neighbor. “Loudest ghost I’ve ever not met.”
    Just then, Matt came through the door with a paper bag in his arms.
    “If you’re still pouting about your goliath asshole, I’m here to save the day. Still pouting?”
    “Perhaps a little,” I admitted from the couch.
    “Yeah, well based on those yoga pants, sweatshirt, and ratty ponytail that you’re rocking, I’m going to say you’re pouting a lot, so…”
    “…I figured…” he huffed setting the bag down on our small dining table. “…that if my very best friend was going to bum around the apartment all day then I should too.” He looked up smiling at me as he pulled the contents of the bag out one by one.
    “For the record, I am pouting about multiple things. Not just him.”
    “Regardless. Anyway, I got a few of your favorite things, which had me singing that song in the market. You know the one.” Matt held his finger out like a composer and began giving me his own rendition of the musical pop culture classic, “My Favorite Things.” “Which had me thinking that we should watch The Sound of Music .” He reached into the bag again and held up the DVD of The Sound of Music like a showcase showdown model on The Price Is Right .
    “A musical?” I asked, smiling in spite of myself.
    “Mhmm,” he hummed and nodded, biting into a piece of beef jerky that he also produced from his bag of “favorite things.”
    “Your gay-level just pegged out. Just in case you were wondering,” I muttered, hopping up from the couch to see what other goodies he’d brought home.
    “I know,” he nodded, grinning.
    “Fine. Let’s do it. Should we invite Cal? Is he free?”
    “He’s working,” Matt pouted with his bottom lip rolled out for effect. “He’s coming by tonight, though.” His pout was instantly replaced by a devilish smile.
    “Probably best, anyway. Our neighbor is being a real jerk today. We will have to turn on the surround sound just to hear the movie.”
    “Are you implying that we should drown out our neighbor’s noise with a musical?”
    “Exactly. Yes, we should absolutely do that.”
    “Who’s gay-level is pegged out now?”
    “Touché,” I smiled, snagging the remote for the surround sound.

    Matt and I watched The Sound of Music —loudly—in companionable silence for the most part. We both swooned over Captain Von Trapp in all his tall, dark and handsome intrigue. It only encouraged thoughts of my own recent tall, dark and handsome man full of intrigue. Incidentally, he was full of shit, too.
    I caught Matt checking his cell phone a time or two as I’m sure he caught me checking mine a time or two, though I’m certain Matt didn’t look half as disappointed as I did. Why couldn’t I