chapter 1
The apartment smelled like cardboard, lemon cleaner, and the vague promise of adulthood.
Clara Bennett stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, surveying the chaos. Boxes were stacked unevenly against the walls, some labeled in Sharpie, others just vaguely marked kitchen or misc. Maddie had already kicked off her shoes and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, pulling mugs out of a box like she was unwrapping presents.
“Okay,” Maddie said, holding up a chipped blue mug. “This one’s mine. Non-negotiable.”
Clara laughed, dropping her tote bag by the couch. “You own four mugs total.”
“Yes, but this one has history.”
“It has a crack.”
“It has character.”
Despite herself, Clara smiled. This, this exact moment, was what she’d imagined all summer. Their first real apartment. Off-campus. No RA. No quiet hours. Just the two of them, finally doing life without hall passes or communal bathrooms.
The place was small but bright, with hardwood floors that creaked when you walked and a narrow hallway that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom they would inevitably fight over. The windows faced the courtyard, where students were already tossing Frisbees and hauling mini fridges up staircases.
“We did it,” Maddie said, leaning back on her hands and looking around. “We’re officially apartment girls.”
Clara felt something loosen in her chest. “We’re officially broke apartment girls.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking in companionable chaos, Maddie blasting an old playlist from her phone, Clara organizing the kitchen with perhaps too much intention. By the time the sun dipped low and the boxes were at least somewhat tamed, they collapsed at the tiny dining table with takeout containers and plastic forks.
“Cheers,” Maddie said, raising her soda can.
“To us never living in a dorm ever again.”
They were halfway through dinner when it started.
At first, it was just bass, low, distant, rhythmic. Clara frowned, pausing mid-bite.
“Do you hear that?”
Maddie tilted her head. “Is that… music?”
The bass grew louder, joined by laughter. A door slammed. Someone whooped.
Clara glanced toward the shared wall. “Is it next door?”
As if on cue, the music surged, some upbeat party track Clara didn’t recognize, followed by the unmistakable sound of multiple voices talking over one another.
“Oh my god,” Maddie said, grinning. “Our neighbors are throwing a party.”
Clara groaned. “On a Tuesday?”
Maddie shrugged. “College.”
They listened for a moment, the noise bleeding through the wall like an uninvited guest. The bass made the table vibrate just slightly. Someone laughed loudly, followed by what sounded like a chant.
“I swear,” Clara said, “if this is an every-night thing, ”
“They won’t do it all the time,” Maddie said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Maybe it’s a move-in thing.”
“Or they’re just… like that.”
Another burst of laughter. Someone yelled, “Let’s go!”
Maddie smirked. “I mean. Could be worse.”
“Name one way.”
“They could be quiet but judgmental.”
Clara snorted despite herself. Still, she found her shoulders tensing as the music continued. She’d been looking forward to this night, unpacking, unwinding, feeling settled. Instead, it felt like their calm was being elbowed aside by strangers they hadn’t even met.
“They’re not even being politely loud,” Clara said. “This is aggressively loud.”
Maddie raised her soda again. “To thin walls.”
They didn’t address it. Didn’t knock. Didn’t complain. Eventually, the music faded into background noise, something to be mildly annoyed about rather than actively furious. By the time Clara crawled into bed that night, the party was still going, muffled laughter seeping through the wall like static.
She fell asleep wondering what kind of people lived next door.
The next morning was all sharp sunlight and the smell of burnt coffee.
Maddie stood in the kitchen, squinting at the coffee maker like it had personally wronged her. “I think it’s broken.”
“You didn’t put water in it,” Clara said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
“Oh.”
They were both running late, Maddie to work, Clara to campus to pick up her parking pass, so they rushed through their routine, bumping into each other in the narrow hallway, exchanging half-formed sentences and promises to regroup later.
As Clara reached for the doorknob, the door across the hall opened at the exact same time.
She froze.
Two guys stepped out of the neighboring apartment, mid-conversation, laughing about something that had clearly happened the night before.
And,
Oh.
Clara’s brain stalled.
The first thing she noticed was height. Both of them were tall, really tall, filling the hallway with broad shoulders and easy confidence. One wore a backwards baseball cap, dark hair curling slightly at the nape of his neck. He had on a hoodie and athletic shorts, legs long and unapologetically muscular.
The other guy stood half a step behind him, adjusting the strap of a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He wore a simple black T-shirt and jeans, his hair still damp like he’d just showered. There was something quieter about him, something steadier, but no less unfairly attractive.
They both stopped when they saw Clara.
For a half second, no one moved.
Then Maddie, ever fearless, leaned past Clara and said, “Oh.”
The guy in the cap grinned first. “Hey.”
His voice was warm, casual. Like this was the most natural thing in the world.
“Hi,” Maddie said, already smiling.
Clara felt heat crawl up her neck. She managed, “Hi.”
The quieter one nodded at them, eyes flicking briefly from Clara to Maddie, polite but curious.
“You guys must be the new neighbors,” cap guy said. “Sorry about last night.”
Clara blinked. “Oh. Um.”
“We didn’t realize the walls were that thin,” he added, unapologetic but charming enough that it almost worked.
Almost.
“It’s fine,” Maddie said, lying effortlessly. “Move-in night.”
“Exactly,” he said. “I’m Jack.”
He pointed back at his friend. “That’s Cole.”
Cole gave a small smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Maddie,” Maddie said, sticking out her hand. “This is Clara.”
“Nice to meet you, Clara,” Jack said, and for reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely, the way he said her name made her stomach flip.
They all stood there for another beat, the hallway suddenly too small, too quiet. Clara noticed a hockey stick leaning against their wall. A pair of scuffed skates by the door.
Oh.
Hockey players.
That explained a lot.
“Well,” Maddie said brightly, stepping forward. “We’re late. But we’ll probably see you around.”
“Definitely,” Jack said. “We’re usually… around.”
Cole shot him a look.
Clara nodded, suddenly very aware of her messy ponytail and yesterday’s T-shirt. “Yeah. See you.”
As Maddie pulled her toward the stairs, Clara glanced back once.
Both guys were watching them go.
The door closed behind them, and Maddie let out a low laugh.
“Clara.”
“What.”
“Sexy hockey players.”
“Do not,” Clara warned.
“I’m just saying,” Maddie continued, undeterred, “last night makes so much more sense now.”
Clara didn’t respond. She was too busy replaying the moment in her head, the grin, the apology, the way Jack had said her name.
Next door, the Ice Kings had officially arrived.
And somehow, she had the feeling their lives were already about to get very loud.
