“Well hey there, peeping tom,” an amused-sounding voice said.
Startled out of my terror (minimally distracted, anyway) I looked up and realized that I was at the next door neighbor’s second story window. And there was a guy leaning out the window, grinning at me.
And may I say (as a loyal girlfriend intent on getting it on with her current boyfriend)… damn.
He was some sort of Hispanic; dark skin the color of yadda yadda, as they say in those Romeo and Juliet but Nobody Dies movies. He had a plain white T-shirt on, but I was pretty sure there were some muscles under those sleeves. His hair was cut close – really close – but he managed to avoid the “I’ve been scalped” look so popular among skinheads.
I swallowed and said the first words that came into my head.
“Save me please?”
Neighbor Boy gave me one of those “she might be crazy” looks that I get a little more often than I’d prefer.
“Save you from what, exactly?”
“Um… the ground?”
He cocked his head to the side and gave me a flat-out “you’re insane” look.
“I’m serious! Look, I was bored so I climbed up this ladder because it was there, and now I’m very high off the ground. And I don’t want to climb down, because I’d have to do it without looking and knowing my luck I’d put a leg through the gap, knock the entire thing over, and come crashing through your living room.” I paused for a second. “And die.”