No Natasha Here

Around midnight last night, Brandon awoke to a loud noise. He woke me (I sleep with earplugs) and asked if I heard anything. We groggily got up and turned on the lights and walked around our apartment. Come to think of it, we weren't thinking clearly, because if an intruder were inside, we'd have been caught empty handed in our pajamas.

Then we heard a sheepish knock at the door. Unfortunately our peep hole is all scratched and blurry, so we couldn't make out who it was. Brandon called through the door "who is it?"
A boy's voice replied "is Natasha home?"
"There's no one here by that name."
The boy persisted, "do you know where Natasha lives?"
Okay, it's midnight. The kid had woke us up by throwing rocks at our window. And now he wants our help? Har. Brandon told him he didn't know. Too bad we don't have a crazy cat lady nearby that we could have directed him to.

Afterwards I had to wonder who this Natasha was. Was she going to sneak out with this boy? Is this like the tv shows where the boy throws rocks at the girl's window and she runs downstairs to hop on the back of his motorcycle and ride off into the night? Because on those shows, the girl usually lives in a big house. Not a one bedroom apartment. Assuming this Natasha has a protective, angry dad (otherwise she'd just go out with him in the open) then what are the odds that he wouldn't hear the kid chucking rocks at the window at least a few feet away? Although perhaps this is all part of the whole "survival of the fittest" thing. That kid? Definitely not the fittest.