by Joey Bush
I stood in silence for a few moments, not quite knowing what I should do. Well, not in silence exactly; it was kind of hard to block out the sounds coming through the wall.
I ran through the options in my head. Should I tell Leslie? Should I knock on the wall? Should I maybe knock on their door and confront them? Or write a note and slide it under the door? Should I put on some headphones and listen to music to drown out the sound?
As the noises grew more and more intense, I felt the same uncomfortable flush of emotions washing over me as I thought about Emerson having hot, passionate sex with the bleached blonde floosy, as my granny would have called her.
I decided not to tell Les. She was way too fiery, and she'd almost certainly get in their faces and turn the situation into a confrontation, which was definitely not something we needed. Also, there was no way I could face them after revealing that I was privy to the extracurricular activities going on. It would be way too awkward. I couldn't leave a note, either. While it wasn't as direct as talking to them about the commotion, it would still make for more awkwardness, considering I'd have to see Emerson regularly for chemistry.
With a resigned sigh, I headed to the kitchen for a glass of wine to take my nerves back down a few notches. I needed a good night's sleep to get through all the classes I had to face the next day, and with what sounded like Horny College Sluts 3 being filmed in the room next door to mine, there was no way I'd be able to sleep without something to help.
I poured a glass of wine and washed it down, then made my way back to my room, slipped in my earphones and put on some soothing tunes. I crawled into bed and tried to focus on the ambient vibes of the music, allowing it to drown out the muffled sounds from next door, and waited for the wine to kick in and work its magic.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Emerson
I woke up with a pounding throb hammering pulse after pulse through my head. My mouth was dry as a desert in midday sun, and my stomach felt like it was twisted in knots. I struggled out of bed and hobbled over to the bathroom, where I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet, expecting to puke. I hovered there for a while, but nothing happened, so I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled to the shower to get cleaned up.
The shower made me feel a little better, but it wasn’t enough. I needed a breakfast that wasn’t going to leave me praying to the porcelain gods and a powerful shot of caffeine to get me back to something that resembled a human. I couldn't believe I had been weak enough to let Chris talk me into drinking. Hell, it had been a Monday night. I'd felt bad for turning him down on Sunday. Still, Monday night drinking of any kind was a terrible idea. He'd said it would just be one quiet beer, but I should have known better. The promise of just one beer had quickly turned into an arm twisting — just one more, then after that, just one more. When ten o’clock rolled around, I finally put my foot down and called it quits. When I texted Chris at midnight, he hadn't even left the bar yet. Because we'd started early, I hadn't even eaten dinner, so I now felt ravenous.
I opened the fridge and groaned. There was absolutely nothing aside from a bottle of ketchup, two bottles of Gatorade, and a takeout tub of Chinese food that had been in there longer than I cared to admit. I was pretty damn desperate, though, so I took out the tub and gingerly opened it — and then immediately regretted the decision. An unearthly stench blasted my senses. I would almost wager that whatever had been living in there was on the verge of creating a new civilization. I quickly tossed the tub into the trash. With my stomach paining for food, I rifled through the rest of the kitchen — nothing. We were totally out of things to eat. So much for leaving it to Chris to pick up the groceries.
I considered going to get something, but that would make me overly late for class. The way I saw it, I had two options: be late for class or appeal to the kindness of my new neighbors. Maybe if I offered to cook them dinner in exchange for breakfast, they’d take mercy on me. I could also use the opportunity to maybe chat with Brooke about chemistry class. That is, if she’d talk to me. I got the impression she wanted to avoid me for some reason. She’d acted rather strange in class, shoving her email address into my hand and then pretty much running away. Asking my neighbors to help me out might end up being awkward, but I was desperate enough for food that I was willing to risk it.
I pulled on a shirt, walked over, and knocked on their door. A few moments later, Leslie opened it.
“Good morning, Emerson,” she said with a smile.
“Hi, Leslie.”
“What can I do for you? Are you here to talk to Brooke?”
“I…um…no. I need a favor. We have absolutely nothing to eat in our place because Chris is an idiot and didn’t get the groceries like he was supposed to and uh, I was wondering if you had anything to spare, maybe some fruit or yogurt or something. I promise, I'll make you guys an epic dinner if you can help me out.”
“Coming to beg from your new neighbors, huh?” she chuckled. “No worries. Been there. We have yogurt, a few donuts left over from yesterday, and a couple of bananas. The donuts might not be too fresh, but if you're hungry, you're hungry, right?”
“I'll take 'em! Damn, Leslie, you're a lifesaver, a total lifesaver!”
“No problem! I’ll grab something for you.”
Leslie went to the kitchen, leaving me standing at the door. I craned my neck, peering inside the apartment trying to see if there was any sign of Brooke. My heart sank a little when it seemed she wasn't there. I couldn’t help but wonder what was up with her, why she seemed to want to avoid me. I was trying to think of a way I could bring her up in conversation without coming across as being interested when Leslie returned and did it for me.
“Here you go,” she said as she handed me the food. “Like I said, the donuts might be a bit stale.”
“That's alright, I'm famished enough to eat just about anything right now.”
“You’re quite welcome. So, Brooke told me you guys are gonna be lab partners.”
“Yeah, that's right. Totally randomized selection from a computer program; how about that?”
“Weird, right? It's almost like fate is conspiring to bring you two together.”
I chuckled a little awkwardly, not knowing how to respond. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. Leslie continued speaking.
“So, I guess that means I'll be seeing a lot more of you around here, huh? You'll probably be coming over to study and stuff, right?”
“I guess that’s possible, depending on Brooke,” I replied. “Okay, so,” I continued eager to switch topics, “do you guys like Thai food? Like I said, I'm gonna make it up to you for helping me out with breakfast.”
“You really don't have to. I meant it when I said the donuts are kinda stale. I was probably gonna toss 'em out anyway.”
“No, I insist. C'mon, you're really gonna turn down a free dinner?”
She laughed. “Hell no! Actually, we're both big fans of Thai food. When should we expect this awesome dinner?”
“My afternoon is pretty free today, so I guess I can whip up dinner and bring it by this evening if that's alright?”
“That sounds killer. We’ll both be home after six, so you can swing by then.”
“Sounds good. I'll see you guys then. And thanks again for breakfast!”
“No problem, Emerson. See ya later.”
“See ya tonight,” I responded as I stepped back toward my apartment.
She shut the door as I grinned. I was pretty darn proud of myself. I had created an excuse that was more than merely classwork to get to talk to Brooke. Now I just had to make it to class on time.
***
I stirred the curry one last time and inhaled deeply, breathing in the fragrant aroma of spices. I'd nailed it, even if I did say so myself. Just to make sure, I dipped a spoon into the curry and blew on it to cool it, then gave it a taste.
The flavor sent chills down my spine.
I had nailed it.
I poured the curry over the chicken and vegetables and
turned the stove all the way down, putting a lid on to let it simmer for a while to allow the flavors to intensify. I checked my watch to make sure I was on schedule. Five minutes until six o' clock.
Once I’d double checked my appearance in my bathroom to make sure my hair was acceptable, I took the pan off the stove and headed out into the hallway to go deliver the red curry chicken to Brooke and Leslie.
I knocked on the door and felt a slight sensation of butterflies in my stomach as I waited for someone to answer. I was hoping it would be Brooke.
It was.
I beamed a huge grin at her, but she only smiled politely back and seemed to be avoiding eye contact with me. I was going to kill her with kindness and at least get her to talk to me if it was the last thing I ever did.
“Hey!” I said. “How's it going?”
“Good,” she replied, keeping the door half closed. “Leslie told me that you'd be bringing us dinner. This is it?”
“Yeah. Thai Red Curry Chicken. I hope you like it.”
“It smells great.”
I handed it to her and moved forward, but she stayed in the doorway, blocking me from entering.
“Well, thanks,” she said coolly, still avoiding eye contact. “We'll wash up the pot when we're done and bring it over to your place. I'm sure this will be delicious. Thanks so much! See you later.”
With that, she stepped back into the apartment and closed the door gently in my face.
I stood there for a moment, feeling like I'd just been kicked in the gut. What was that? I'd gone through the trouble of making her dinner, and she just took it and didn't even bother to invite me in! What was with her? What was I missing?
I raised my fist to knock on the door, a bit of irritation bubbling up inside me. Part of me wanted to give her a piece of my mind, but I stopped my fist mid-air. She must have had her reasons for doing what she had just done. Even the Ice Queen wouldn’t be that cold without her reasons. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. A genuine misunderstanding. Right?
Or, maybe she was just a cold, impolite bitch. I didn’t know. I shuffled back into my apartment and closed the door behind me. It looked like I'd be eating dinner alone.
That was when my phone buzzed. I looked down to see who was messaging me.
Melissa.
Hey, good-looking, what are you up to for dinner? I'm in your 'hood, mind if I come over and hang out for a bit?
Normally, I would have made up an excuse, but after having just had a door literally closed in my face, I was feeling a bit rejected. I instinctively typed in a response without thinking.
Sure. I'm free.
Ten minutes later, Melissa was at my door with pizza. A lot of pizza. Five minutes after that, Chris and a couple of friends showed up.
***
I'd just stripped down to get into the shower when I heard a knock at the door. Chris had gone bowling with some friends and Melissa and I were going to join them after I grabbed a shower. She was on the balcony having a cigarette and wouldn't have been able to hear the knock at the door.
The knock sounded again so I wrapped a towel around my waist and hurried out to open the door. When I opened it, there stood the Ice Queen herself.
Brooke’s eyes widened at the sight of my half-naked body and a flush of red developed across her cheeks.
“Um, er, hi, Emerson,” she stammered.
I couldn't believe it. She was struggling to keep her focus aboveboard. It was almost as if she was, as the cliché goes, undressing me with her eyes. I felt like saying, “Hey, my eyes are up here,” but of course, I didn't. I was kind of enjoying it. Maybe there was more to the Ice Queen than met the eye.
“Hi, Brooke,” I responded, leaning against the doorframe and subtly flexing my muscles just to mess with her.
“I, um, I brought your pot back,” she mumbled, suddenly thrusting the pot into my hands like an awkward schoolgirl. It was actually pretty adorable.
I took the pot just as my towel started to slip off my waist. She caught sight of it sliding down and her eyes widened. It was about an inch away from letting everything hang out when I shot a hand down and caught it.
“Oops,” I chuckled — sorry but not really sorry. “So, how was the curry?”
“Oh, it was, um, yeah, it was totally impressive,” she replied, still trying — and failing — to keep her eyes from wandering. “You're a very talented cook. Thank you so much for dinner.”
“Not a problem,” I replied. “I love cooking, especially Asian cuisine — Thai, Chinese, Japanese. I think I mentioned it when we first met, I've really been wanting to visit Japan. You lived there, right?”
“Yeah, I…yes, I lived in Japan for over a year.”
She was settling down a little and didn't seem as flustered, but she kept sneaking appreciative glances at my body and running her fingers through her hair while she was talking to me. Something about it was kind of sexy.
“Cool. I'd love to chat sometime about places to see, things to eat, you know, all that stuff I should know that a tourist guide can’t tell me…if you don't mind.”
“Uh, yeah, sure, sometime.”
“I mean, we're lab partners now, so I guess we're gonna be spending some time together.”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess we are,” she replied, smiling at me for the first time. It was a great smile.
“So, I guess I'll email you about that,” I said with a wink, causing her to blush.
“Hey, Emerson, you want a beer? There are a few cold ones in the fridge, right?”
I spun around at the sound of Melissa coming inside from the balcony. When she saw Brooke at the door, immediately a venomous glare entered her eyes.
“Oh, it's your neighbor,” she said flatly. “Is something the matter?”
“No, everything is just great,” I said.
“I, um, I should be going now,” Brooke stammered, suddenly appearing uncomfortable and, if I was reading her facial expression correctly, a little jealous.
“Nice to see you again, uh, whatever your name is,” Melissa chided as she walked off into the kitchen to get a beer.
Brooke turned around and headed back to her apartment.
“Wait!” I called out after her.
She stopped and looked over her shoulder at me. “Yeah?”
Suddenly, I was at a loss for words. Why had I told her to wait? What did I want to say? I wasn't sure, really. It had been more of an instinctual reaction. I just hadn't wanted her to leave like that. I didn’t want her to have the wrong impression about me and Melissa. But somehow, I figured it may have been too late for that.
“I, uh, I just wanted to talk about chemistry class,” I blurted out as a last resort.
“Oh. Well, we have to finish reading chapters one and two by tomorrow morning. If you need any other information, you know where to find me,” she replied.
With that, she hurried into her apartment and closed the door behind her.
“Bye,” I said to the empty hallway before slowly closing my own door.
CHAPTER NINE
Brooke
“So what did he say?” Leslie asked the second I walked through the door.
“Oh, uhhh, nothing. Or something. I dunno,” I replied.
“Huh? Why are you looking so flustered, Bee?”
“He, uh, he answered the door half-naked.”
Leslie's eyes widened and she let out a riotous laugh. “So that's why your cheeks are all red, huh? So how did he look without a shirt on? As good as I imagine he does?”
I grinned. “Better.”
We both laughed, then I changed my tone. I had to tell her what else I'd seen there.
“So, that Melissa girl was there, too. And uh, he answered the door only in a towel, soooo yeah…”
“Oooh.”
“Exactly.”
“Sorry, Brooke.”
“Why are you sorrying me? I told you I wasn't interested in him. Granted, he's hot and clearly has a great body, but that's about it. I told y
ou, I have to focus on my studies this semester. Besides, he's with blondie and totally off-limits. Seeing that makes it even easier than it was before to write off this ridiculous attraction.”
Leslie grinned. “So, you admit you’re attracted to him.” She gave me her I told you so look. “Are you sure he's with her, though?”
I raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Les, come on. He's in there naked with her, alone. What else could they be doing?”
I almost mentioned the noises I had heard, but stopped myself. Leslie had been pissed enough the first time it had happened. If she knew it had happened again, she'd go over there and make a scene, which I didn't want.
“It might not be what you think. Don't jump to conclusions,” she said.
“Well, it seems pretty damn obvious to me.”
“Um, might I remind you of the Brandt Lucas incident our senior year? You said that was obvious, too. Just ask Emerson about it when you're studying with him or something!”
I shook my head. “Oh my God, Les, I can't just ask him about that! What am I supposed to say?”
“Just ask?”
I put on my best male jock accent and tried to imitate Chris as best I could. “Yo, Emerson, bro, are you like, bangin' that fake-tittied Melissa bitch, dawg?”
We both burst out laughing at my silly impression.
“Regardless of what's happening with him and that Melissa chick, I hope you let Emerson know how much we enjoyed the curry chicken. It was pretty amazing, right?” Leslie said.
“Oh my God, so good! The man knows how to cook.”
Something mischievous sparkled in Leslie's eyes. “I wonder what other tricks he's got up his sleeve?”
“Come off it, Les, I'm not interested. Just forget about it.”
“Alright, alright. For now,” she grinned and picked up the TV remote.
We were halfway through an episode of Mad Men when it started: a deep, intense thumping that seemed to rattle and vibrate everything in our apartment.
“What the hell is that?” Leslie exclaimed, looking around in surprise.
“I’m pretty sure it's bass,” I replied. “Sounds like a car with a really, really insane sound system.”