“Do you need some help?” he inquired.
“Yep, I’m looking for ways to soundproof a door and window. What do you recommend?”
“I know exactly what you need for a do-it-yourself project,” he replied. “Follow me.” He led me to an aisle two rows over.
“I recommend you purchase this vinyl threshold with aluminum casing door sweep for the bottom of the door which will block sound and drafts from coming under the door, and that you weather strip the side of the door, that’s where most sound travels,” he advised.
“I’m sold. How about for the window?” I queried.
“The best I could recommend for soundproofing your window without having to replace your existing window is to put an add-on secondary glazing on top. You’ll be able to achieve a fifty to seventy percent noise reduction,” he answered helpfully.
“Perfect, I’ll take one of everything, please,” I replied.
“You don’t look like you’re a bedroom recording artist,” he said, flirting as he double-checked that he’d taken the correct inventory for my order. I closed down right away.
“I’m definitely not a recording artist or anything like that. I’m not keeping the sound in, I’m keeping the outside sounds from coming in,” I said, hoping that made sense. I didn’t want people getting the wrong impression.
“Um, okay,” he replied with confusion, ringing up my purchases.
“Thank you,” I replied as I paid with my card, relieved the ordeal was over.
On the way back to my dorm room, students gave me odd looks as they checked out what I was carrying, but I ignored them.
“What is all that for?” A curious voice asked. I turned and realized that while my back was turned, the girl in the room opposite me had opened up her door.
“My room,” I acknowledged enigmatically.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an eloquent speaker? No? Well, I can definitely see why!” she commented sarcastically. She had shrewd ocean blue eyes offset by red hair, and freckles, and right now she was looking at me like I was her next project.
“Is it okay for me to leave now? You seem to be having a monologue.” I scorned, unable to stop myself from liking her attitude. It was refreshing and honest.
“Why are you still a dove?” she fired at me out of nowhere, and I found myself having whiplash from the changing direction of her conversation.
“What? That’s got to be the first time I’ve ever been called a dove in my life,” I choked out in shock. If I didn’t have such a tight hold on the things I was carrying they would have definitely fallen to the floor.
“You’ve got this whole innocent, lost vibe look, and you’ve got this whole don’t touch me ward up like you’re a virgin to boot. We need to rectify the situation immediately,” she critiqued. “Haven’t you felt the urge?”
“What?” I repeated like a parrot. I think she deserved to take a small visit to Zaston Institution. With people like her around I question why I was ever admitted in the first place!
“The urge to engage in sexual relations,” she elaborated.
“Er, I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I replied, feeling sick. The thought of being touched made me want to throw up.
It must have shown on my face because she immediately eyed me with pity. “I’m sorry, I don’t think before I talk, it’s a hazard. I’m Laurina, I obviously live in the room opposite yours and I’m studying to be a nurse,” she listed, putting her hand out for a handshake.
“After that introduction I’d rather not engage in a handshake with you, I might just get electrocuted. You’re a livewire. I’m Emerson and I’m studying psychology,” I declared.
“I don’t blame you, I did come on a bit too strong. I have no filter at all. I grew up with five brothers, and I blame them for the way that I am! It’s lovely to meet you,” she replied.
“You, too,” I replied somewhat flummoxed as I tried to make a getaway, swiping my keycard in desperation.
“Uh-uh, before you hide away you have to promise me you’re going to come out with me tonight,” she ordered.
“Where are you going?”
“To The Den of Iniquity, it’s the hottest club around,” she proclaimed with confidence.
“Um . . . as good as it sounds, I think I’m going to have to say . . .” I responded, trying to find some sort of suitable excuse.
“No. I’m not taking no for an answer,” she exclaimed, wagging a finger at me. “Be ready at nine. Don’t worry about being underage I’ll get us in without a problem. Oh, and just so you know, I know how to break into your room if I have to,” she smiled like the devil.
I closed the door behind me, not knowing how to respond, my heart in my chest.
“I like you, Emerson, we’re going to get along just great,” Laurina yelled through my door.
Laurina was a whirlwind, no, she was much worse—a tornado and she was determined to sweep me up in her craziness. God help me.
I was scared of the very notion of ever stepping foot inside another club, but dammit, she wasn’t giving me much of a choice. If I left and hid elsewhere she’d probably hunt me down. I could just imagine Katia laughing down on me from Heaven. She had always been the more outgoing one and yet somehow she had willfully accepted and embraced how painfully awkward I was.
I put my purchases to the side. It was eight already and by the time I figured out how to attach them to the window and door, my time would be up. I took a quick, hot shower then looked inside my luggage and laughed. I didn’t have a single piece of going out clothing. I opted for a long-sleeve, grey sweater and a pair of tights. It was safe, and I had a feeling that the place that I was going to was going to be anything but. I did need to push myself to get better though . . . And what better way than to throw myself smack bang into the deep end?
It was almost time. I quickly unscrewed the lid of my pill bottle, feeling nervous, and rather than taking the recommended dosage—which was one pill—to relax me, I took two. This was clearly an emergency and the more powerful the effect, the higher the chance that I wouldn’t even react if someone touched me because I wouldn’t care. I’d be so numb that I wouldn’t even feel it.
I jumped as my door rattled, praying that the pills would kick in ASAP, my nerves were already shot to hell and I hadn’t even left the room.
“I’m giving you thirty seconds, then I’m coming in,” Laurina warned in a sickly, sweet voice. I needed to head back to the hardware store later and ask the sales clerk about ways to keep intruders out.
I sighed, and opened the door. Nothing prepared me for how glamorous she looked in an emerald, off-the-shoulder, cocktail dress that beautifully complemented her shoulder-length, auburn hair.
“Emerson!” She groaned as she looked me over. “What are you wearing?”
“No, I’m drawing the line, the line has been drawn,” I emphasized. “You either take me as I am or leave me behind, and I don’t even want to go.”
“You did this on purpose,” she accused, her eyes flaring. “I don’t care how you’re dressed because of how it looks on me. I care because you could look so much better,” she pleaded.
“That’s sweet of you, but I like what I’m wearing,” I replied unbendingly. I could see what she was trying to do, but her mind games weren’t going to work on me.
“Fine, but I don’t get why you’re downplaying your looks,” she relented, walking down the hallway. I took that as my cue to follow, “And don’t even try to set me up with anyone or we won’t be friends…we’ll quickly become enemies,” I warned.
“Trust me, even if I tried, as soon as they get a look at you they’ll get scared and run in the other direction,” she scoffed.
“Come on, that’s a bit harsh,” I threw back, feeling a bit uncharacteristically dejected.
“I’m not saying that to be mean, most college boys just want simple and easy, not messy and complicated, and you definitely fall into the second category,” she explained as we de
scended the stairs.
“That’s exactly what I am. Are you really sure you want to take the chance of taking me along with you? I’m moody, mentally unstable, anxious, and just about the least impulsive person you’ll ever meet,” I cautioned, listing most of my worst attributes.
“All I’m hearing are good things, Emerson. I don’t get scared off easily, keep going though, it’s pretty entertaining,” she mocked, coming to a halt next to an expensive looking vehicle. A Jeep Wrangler, I read, looking at the brand and make.
“Get in, and be sure to strap yourself in tightly because I don’t want your head going through the windshield with the way I drive,” she instructed seriously.
I looked back longingly in the direction of my room, not sure that testing the waters included risking my life, too.
“Emerson, come on, I was just joking,” she appeased. I shot her a distrustful look but got in, put on my seatbelt, and clutched at the seat with both hands.
Laurina reversed in a rough maneuver that had me gritting my teeth, the wheels screaming in objection, and I coughed as I drew in a breath of what smelled like burning rubber.
“See, I’m just as bad as you, I’m a bald-face liar, and reckless to boot,” she threw back at me before I could yell at her. I opened my mouth then closed it again, it would probably be better if I didn’t distract her, and she clearly needed to focus on getting us to the club in one piece. Instead I turned on the radio and put the volume up, needing something to distract me from her driving skills.
By the time we got to the club, the pills had begun to kick in. I looked at the crowd of people around the entrance and didn’t even feel a shred of fear, just numbness. I stumbled a bit as I got out of the car and giggled at myself.
“Are you okay?” Laurina asked, moving to my side. “Did you start the party without me while you were in your room?”
“No, it’s just nerves and my obsession to test gravity at times. I definitely won the battle against it this time,” I smirked.
“Well, you’re lucky that you’re rolling with a nurse,” she smiled obstinately.
“Woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you’re not a qualified one yet,” I corrected.
“Please, being a qualified nurse just means getting a certificate, I’ve got practical training,” she quipped. I hoped she didn’t mean merely putting bandages on bloody knees or elbows.
She strode to the front of the line with unabashed confidence, and I followed less eagerly behind, feeling the glares of the people waiting in line.
“We’re both with Kristoff,” she directed to the two bouncers at the door. They nodded and immediately moved aside to allow us through.
“Who is Kristoff?” I fired at her, right before a group of girls huddled around her, cutting me out.
“Wow,” I drew out in shock as I looked around me. The club had three levels I saw, reading the sign next to me. Apparently one was for those interested in burlesque shows, the other for exclusive hire, and the bottom one which we were on had a DJ with live entertainment. Around the perimeters were booths encased in slick glass but I couldn’t see inside. Ruby red and black was the theme with gold leaves splashed here and there giving the place a royally classic feel. And there were people performing acrobatics soaring gracefully above the crowd.
I’d never seen anything like it in my life. It was unreal.
Someone bumped into me from the side, making me flinch instinctively. I waited for my body to react but my brain and my emotions were out of sync, it was like I was here, but I wasn’t. I was an outsider looking in, seeing what was happening but not feeling it.
“Emerson, come here, I want to introduce you to some friends,” Laurina ordered. She pointed to the girls around her, saying names that I wasn’t hearing. I nodded my head at the right times, even with the looks of distaste they were sending me.
“I’ll go and get us some shots, wait here,” she spoke to me mostly. “Everything is so much better when you’re drunk,” she advised as if imparting an invaluable life lesson.
“If you say so,” I said with barely hidden disbelief. Laurina laughed smugly and disappeared into the horde of people on the dance floor.
“So have you picked out a guy yet?” One of Laurina’s brunette friends asked me.
“Um, no, I’m off men.” Permanently I added in my head.
“I don’t think I could ever be,” she replied incredulously. “The trick is to always keep your heart out of it. We’re young and pleasure isn’t a dirty word. One night stands are the best, you should indulge in one,” she counseled.
“I’ll definitely take that under advisement,” I replied.
“You shouldn’t be wasting all the opportunities here tonight.” The blonde stepped in to the show—featuring an all-star cast of my embarrassment and me.
“Maybe I’m in recovery and waiting for the right person to present himself,” I parried.
“Darling, the right one doesn’t exist,” she huffed critically, “you need to grow up and quit believing in fairytales.”
“Oh, quit being so harsh, Tash, besides, you’ve been hung up on The Leverager ever since you heard about him. Chasing down every lead to get to him which is why we’re here tonight,” the raven-haired one chided.
“Who is the Leverager?” I queried, my interest piqued.
“No one knows, or if they do, they keep his identity a closely guarded secret,” Tash retorted. “You ask him to do a favor, any favor no matter how crazy, and he’ll do it, for a price in return, of course. He’s exclusive; he meets the needs of his clients one at a time. They say his price is different according to each client. Sometimes it’s money, sometimes it’s trade secrets, and sometimes it’s a favor that you’ll have to repay in the future. The price is always exorbitant…when you make a deal with the Devil, it always is,” she whispered with excitement.
“So how are you supposed to contact this illustrious Leverager? By phone?” I derided with skepticism.
“Of course not! He’s not an amateurish fool,” Tash grimaced. “He doesn’t have a website either. The latest lead I chased down told me to come here, go to the bar, and ask for a Molotov cocktail, and hand over a note detailing what you need his services for. They then somehow give it to him, he screens the potential client, and at his discretion decides whether he would like to take you on as a client. If not, then you won’t hear back from him, but if he does he will track you down,” she elicited.
“It sounds like a myth to me,” I laughed, unable to take her seriously.
“Then you won’t be afraid to see if it’s true,” Tasha challenged, her eyes flashing, “Or are you too scared to?” she mocked.
“Not at all,” I replied. I didn’t have anything to lose. “Do you have a pen and paper?” I inquired serenely.
“I came prepared,” Tasha replied with a devilish smile. “I’ve already made my own submission, but I’ve got some paper to spare,” she replied handing me a sheet she pulled from her handbag and a pen.
“Reliability, I’m sure that’s a quality that men hunger for in a woman,” I jibed. Her eyes narrowed in anger and I hurriedly took off through the crowd, weaving around arms and legs, not quite up to a fistfight at the moment.
“Emerson, where are you going?” Laurina’s voice asked from somewhere to my left. I turned and saw she was holding a tray of aquamarine-colored shots.
“I’ll take mine and Tasha’s,” I said, feeling reckless myself, and downed one shot with disgust then the other. I coughed, feeling it rise back up.
“No, keep it down,” Laurina ordered, “and take mine, too, it gets better the more you drink.” I rolled my eyes, and threw back the other one, feeling powerful.
“I can’t feel a thing, maybe I’m not a lightweight,” I cried with exhilaration.
“Give it some time, you’ll begin to feel the effects. Stay close by, I don’t want you passed out on the floor, you rebel,” she laughed.
“Hey, baby, sorry I’m late, practice ran ove
rtime.” A husky male voice apologized as a man wrapped a corded arm around Laurina. “I also brought the team with me. I couldn’t shake them off, sorry.”
I looked behind him and saw about fifteen or so football players easily identifiable from the red and white-striped jerseys they were sporting. Laurina had turned around to kiss the guy, whom I assumed she must have been dating.
“Ah, sorry, Emerson, every time we’re apart even for the shortest of times it feels like a lifetime. This is my boyfriend, Lukas, he’s the quarterback and captain of the football team here,” Laurina explained.
Lukas moved to look at me and when he did, all the blood in his face drained. Before I could question him, a fight broke out between one of the football players and some other guy.
“Uh, sorry, it’s nice to meet you but I need to go break that up. If coach hears about it, there’ll be hell to pay,” Lukas yelled over his shoulder before he disappeared.
“Ugh, football players and their tempers,” she shook her head in amusement, and then sent me an inquiring look. “Why have you got that weird look on your face?”
Laurina hadn’t seen Lukas’s face because she had been busy looking at me at the time. “Nothing,” I fielded. “Tasha dared me to do something. I’m going to go and do it. I’ll meet you back with the other girls later,” I shared.
“She might seem all highly strung, but she won’t do anything if you don’t go through with it, not that I would ever allow her to,” she confided in me.
“Thanks, but I never turn down a challenge. I mean, if I did, I wouldn’t even be here tonight. I’m on a roll. If I stop I don’t know what will happen,” I wagged my eyebrows.
“Alright then, I won’t hold back a woman on a mission. I’ll see you later,” she snickered.
I saluted, and quickly put my hand back down when I saw a melancholy look pass over her face. It speedily cleared as if it had never been there. I let her go, thinking now wasn’t the right time to get into it.
I looked around and found an empty bar stool. I hastily made my way toward it and sat down. Phase one complete. Now, what to write?
The Leverager Page 6
