better call sean

I wrote this in 2017 about my guy friend and I seriously can't tell if I was like in love with him or just weirdly intrigued

One of the first times I met him, he was shirtless.

He flung open the door to his apartment, this new neighbor of mine, blinking the sleep out of his eye. 

“Hi,” I said. I tried to act more nervous, a passive-aggressive move to get him to put some threadbare decency on. He stared me down, mute. I pretended to be taken aback. Really I wasn’t.

Technically, he wasn’t a stranger. A boy in my English class. I sat at my desk, usually between him and his ex, if that was him, who otherwise was a friend I’d spent the summer with. I wasn’t sure if she’d ever directly uttered his name — “ oh yeah, that’s the crazy love of my life,” — but in some way I felt, this man was infamous. Whether it was because it was that dude who showed up to her house in the middle of the night and got drunk to throw legendary parties and made out with her best friend and was the epitome of tortured writer etc. remained to be seen.

I was just there to get my phone charger back from his dumb as rocks neighbor that day, when I was faced with examining my intuition. I decided to let it click, that this was probably the —

“Your name’s Sean, right?”