by Claire Adams
From inside the apartment, I heard the front door open. “Hello?” Leslie called out, shuffling in with both of her hands full of bags bulging with groceries.
“Hey, I'm out here,” I said, glancing into the apartment from my perch. “You need a hand with those?”
“Nah, I'm fine. Just gonna drop 'em off in the kitchen, then I'll join you out there.”
A minute later, Leslie walked out onto the balcony, carrying a small, potted plant in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “Violets,” she said as she put the plant down. “Our first flowers for the apartment. It's up to you to get the next one. Sound like a plan? We take turns getting plants for the balcony until we've got enough to fill it up and make a real garden out here.”
I smiled; I'd always loved gardening and growing things. “Yeah! Sounds perfect. And, we can get a few herbs growing for the kitchen, maybe some cherry tomatoes and chilies, too.”
“I like the way you think.” Leslie plopped down in the seat beside me. “So, tell me, how was your first day? Good classes? Any hot guys?” she said with a wink and a cheeky smile.
I sipped on my tea and shook my head. “You will not believe what happened.” I proceeded to tell her about the unusual events in chemistry class and the situation with Emerson being my lab partner that existed because of said events.
“Oh, my God, Brooke! You’ve got to be kidding me. Wait. Are you serious?”
“Not even joking a little bit, Les. I have been partnered with our hot neighbor and it really looks like there's no way out of it. Like, none. At all.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Fate,” she said softly.
“What?”
“Fate, girl,” she echoed. “Something is telling you that you should be paying a bit more attention to the man next door.”
“Oh, come on. It was just a coincidence, nothing more. Seriously.”
“A coincidence would have been him just being in your chemistry class. Being lab partners, put together by a randomized process on a computer? Nope, that's way beyond mere coincidence. That right there? That's fate. You two are meant to-”
“Stop right there, Leslie Marie. Do not say that I'm meant to be with that douchebag.”
“Aww, come on, Brooke. Don’t ya think that's a bit harsh? I know he's a bit of a party boy, but it seems a bit too soon to be judgmental like that. I mean, you don't really know the guy...”
“You saw the strumpets at their apartment for their party over the weekend, right? There was enough silicone in that pack of skanks to keep the Titanic afloat. Have you never heard the saying about how you can judge a person by the company they keep? Applicable here, Les, very applicable.”
“First of all, strumpets? Who even says that?” she laughed. “Second, it kinda feels like you're shutting him out without even giving him a sliver of a chance.”
“Look what happened last time I gave a guy a chance.”
She put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Bee, not every guy is gonna be like Andrew. You gotta let that go. It's really messing you up by holding on to it like this. C'mon, Brooke, you're gorgeous, you're crazy smart, and you're such a sweetheart. It's a waste seeing you build these walls around yourself and not letting anyone in just because you’re afraid they'll hurt you. You can't live your life like this—especially your college years! You're supposed to be out meeting new guys, having fun, living life! I know you're serious about your studies and that's great! It doesn't, however, mean you can't also have a social life, you know? There are plenty of students who get their 4.0 who also go to parties once in a while and even have romantic partners. It's all about balance, BeeBee. Balance.”
“I'll get over Andrew in my own time, in my own way, okay?” I sipped my tea and turned my eyes away from Leslie; I didn't want to have that conversation. I wasn’t ready for it.
“You've been getting over him for the last nine months, Brooke,” she said quietly. “Or, at least, so you say. I don't see much getting over going on.”
“Can we change the subject already?” I requested, almost snapping at her. I immediately felt guilty about how aggressive my tone was. “I'm sorry, Les,” I insisted. “I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I know you've got my best interest at heart. You really are my best friend. I really love having you around, it’s just that…”
“Aw, don't worry about it, Bee! That situation with Andrew was just… Look, I know how bad it was. I was there with you, remember? And, I know betrayal like that is ridiculously hard to get over. But he doesn’t deserve any more of your time or grief. I just want to see you happy again, that's all. I just want my best friend in the whole world to be happy.”
“Awww. I so love you! Come here,” I commanded, and I gave her a big, tight hug. “You’re right. No more of my time. So, enough about me,” I insisted as I let Leslie loose from my grip. “How was your day?”
“It was okay. How would you like to act in a TV show like The Walking Dead?”
“Horror would be such fun to do! But I wouldn’t be opposed to a little rom-com action with a hot guy,” I said with a laugh. “Why? Where did that question come from?”
“Well, I may have a part in a student film coming up. Some sort of slasher flick, plenty of blood.”
“Nice! You'll kill it. Pun fully intended.”
We both chuckled.
“They might need some extras if you’re interested,” she added.
“That might be fun. Keep me posted.”
“You know I will.”
“Alright, Les, I need some sleep,” I said. “I left you a plate from dinner in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“That sounds awesome. I've got a long day again tomorrow.”
“Yeah, me, too. I’m gonna grab a shower and hit the sack.”
“Night, Bee.”
“Night.”
I stopped by the kitchen to rinse my cup then headed to my bathroom for a hot shower. It was just what I needed to wind down before bed. After a lingering in the shower for a while, I shut the water off and proceeded with my bedtime routine. I dried my hair just enough that I could put it into a braid and it would finish drying while I slept.
The moment I stepped into my room, I could hear it.
That noise again. Yep, that noise coming from the other side of the wall. Muffled grunts, groans, moans, and the rhythmic thumping of a headboard against the wall growing faster and faster.
“Oh, my word, again? Really?”
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 floozy, 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 washe
d 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 t
he 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.
