by Claire Adams
“Alright, Jenkins,” I said. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“No problem, kiddo. Just take it easy with the noise now, y'hear?”
“Yeah, I got ya. Thanks. I gotta go. Hope your back feels better.”
“Thanks. See ya later, kid.”
I waved and jogged up the stairs into the building. What Jenkins had said was cause for concern. I thought back to the time in chemistry class I overheard that jerk Garrett telling Brooke she should call the cops on me and Chris. Now I had to wonder if she was seriously considering taking that advice or if it was Leslie who wanted to make the call.
Either way, it was bad news for us. I had to convince Chris to stop partying in the apartment. Either that, or I had to move out as soon as I could. I couldn’t have that kind of heat coming down on me.
I opened the front door and went straight to Chris's room and knocked.
“Yo, who's there?” a muffled voice asked from behind the door.
“It's me.”
“Oh, hold on E-dawg.”
The sounds of mattress springs echoed from behind the door before Chris spoke again.
“Okay, man, come on in.”
I opened the door and stuck just my head in. Chris and Ciara were lying in bed, both only covered by Chris' comforter. Barely. It was pretty obvious what I’d interrupted. Still, I cut straight to the point.
“Dude, you've got to cut the partying down.”
“Well, good morning to you, too, bro,” he replied sarcastically. “So nice to see you. How was your-”
“Look, I just spoke to Jenkins downstairs. He said he overheard one of our neighbors saying if there's any more noise out of our place — and I mean any at all — they're gonna call the cops.”
“So? Screw 'em. Let 'em call the cops.”
“Chris, are you insane?! We've been over this before, man! If the cops come in here and find all the alcohol, we're dead! Have you forgotten who the dean of the college is?”
“You worry way too much, man. Nobody is gonna call the cops. Jeez, just chill the hell out.”
I shook my head; it seemed nothing I said to him would make a difference. It was looking like I might have to consider moving out, after all.
“Look, just think about what I just told you, alright? I gotta go shower and get to class.”
“Sure,” he said coldly. “Later.”
I walked out and closed the door, burning frustration bubbling deep inside me.
***
I walked into chemistry class ten minutes early and smiled as I saw Brooke already sitting there. Thankfully, Garrett hadn't arrived yet, so she was sitting alone. I took my usual seat behind her and tapped her playfully on the shoulder. When she turned around and saw it was me, she smiled warmly.
“Hey, Emerson,” she said with genuine warmth in her voice.
“Hey, Brooke. How's it going?”
“Pretty darn good, actually,” she replied with a smile.
“Oh yeah? Why is that?”
“Well, I managed to raise over a hundred dollars just by selling those plants! Together, the rest of the team and I managed to raise twelve hundred dollars for the children's home.”
“Wow!” I exclaimed, impressed. “That's fantastic!”
“How's your little cactus doing?” she asked, a playful twinkle sparkling in her eye.
“Oh, he's good,” I replied with a chuckle. “Surviving, despite my black thumb!”
“Good to hear. Just don’t overwater it. It can be just as bad as not giving it enough water.”
“Don’t drown the cactus. I'll keep that in mind.”
I thought about bringing up the noise complaint, but didn’t want to make the conversation awkward, so I avoided the issue. Luckily, it seemed Brooke was in a talkative mood so additional topics weren’t needed.
“I gotta tell you, Emerson,” she said, “I really enjoyed that Indian place, Patak's. So much, in fact, that I had dinner there again with my parents on Sunday night.”
“Oh, did you now?” I said with a wry smile. “Looks like I got someone hooked on Indian food!”
She laughed and blushed slightly. Damn she was cute when that shyness came over her.
“Yeah, I think I might actually be hooked now,” she replied with a hint of something laced in her words. “What have you done, Emerson?”
If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she was flirting with me. That maybe there was a hidden meaning in what she’d just said. I shrugged. “Oh no. Don't blame me, Brooke!”
“I have to blame someone, don't I?” She raised her eyebrows slightly and grinned.
“I suppose you do.”
“Anyway, when I was there with my parents, Mr. Patak recognized me and came over to say hi.”
“Oh, really? He always says he never forgets a face.”
“Yeah, well, he wouldn't shut up about you.”
“Me?”
“Yep,” she replied, blushing again. “He told my parents how awesome a young man you are. Um, how awesome he thinks you are, that is,” she quickly added.
“Nice to know he thinks that about me,” I replied.
“Well, anyway, my mom said I should invite you to a barbecue we're having this weekend.”
I tried my best to keep a look of calm, cool, and collected on my face as I replied. “Oh yeah? A barbecue with your parents?”
“It's my dad's fiftieth birthday. It's gonna be a pretty big occasion, so I wanted invite a few of my friends. And after everything Mr. Patak told my parents about you, they insisted that I invite you. So…interested?”
I smiled. Hell yeah, I was interested. “Absolutely. Tell me where and when and I'll be there.”
“Great. Well, it's this Saturday at two in the afternoon. I'll text you the address.”
“Awesome. Saturday it is then.”
She looked like she was about to say something else when Garrett sat down beside her just as the professor walked in. She glanced back over her shoulder once more and flashed a smile that made me feel warm before she turned her attention back to the front of the class. My attention, however, was now on everything but class.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Brooke
Dad's birthday barbecue weather turned out to be pretty perfect. The sky was clear, the sun was bright, and it wasn't too hot. A gentle breeze hummed along and kept everything just cool enough.
I still couldn’t believe I’d actually invited Emerson to the barbecue. I hadn’t planned to. When my parents had initially suggested it, I'd made up excuses as to why he wouldn't have been able to make it, having absolutely no intention of inviting him. They'd accepted that I'd be coming alone, which was exactly what I’d had in mind. But then, when Emerson and I had started talking in chemistry class, the invitation just kinda popped out of my mouth, seemingly of its own accord. I’d even lied about the fact that I had invited some of my friends. That was not even the case. Naturally, Leslie was invited, but she was the extent of it. And, she had something going on with her family, so she wasn’t going to make it. It was just going to be a bunch of my parents’ friends, a few family members, me, and Emerson.
And the truth was, I didn't really mind at all. If I was being honest with myself, I’d have to admit I was even a little excited about it. Over the past few days, I'd hardly been able to get Emerson off my mind. We'd had a great chat during our practicals on Wednesday. In fact, we’d talked and laughed for at least half an hour before even starting the experiment, by which time another pair of lab partners had showed up, giving us dirty looks as they waited for us to rush through the experiment after we had gone way over our booked time because of all the chatting.
And then, Friday, I was handing out flyers for one of our RAG projects advertising an outdoor film festival for movies made by the students at the university’s film school, when Emerson immediately left his group of friends he'd been throwing a football around with and offered to help. But not before he asked about the details. I told him all about how t
he films would be shown on an outdoor projector on one of the campus lawns where people could bring picnic baskets and deck chairs, and that all of the proceeds from the tickets were going to a charity that built schools in rural parts of Kenya. He took most of my flyers and jogged around campus, handing them out to everyone he came across.
Also, strangely enough, his apartment had been pretty quiet over the past week. I don't know if Emerson had finally managed to convince Chris to keep his music down, if Chris had been away for a while, or if there had been another reason for the silence. But whatever the reason, Leslie and I had appreciated the peace.
Then there was the lack of other sounds coming through the wall. I still hadn't found out if it had been Chris or Emerson behind those particular noises, and I really didn't want to know. As long as they had stopped, I was happy.
Part of me felt relieved that the extracurricular commotion had stopped, especially if Emerson had been responsible. Because it meant that… Well, let's just say I hadn't seen Melissa or her friends around the apartment building, either. Maybe that meant Emerson felt-
I stopped my train of thought. The last thing I needed to do was start jumping to conclusions. I couldn't afford to get into anything right now, not that and maintain focus on my studies.
Then there were the remnants of Andrew.
Although, weirdly enough, that seemed to have lost most of its sting. Especially after what Emerson had done for me at Patak's when Ben walked over to the table. Even though the whole idea of me moving on, finding a new guy, and feeling really happy and doing really well for myself had been an act concocted by Emerson in the face of Ben's smugness, it had actually helped. I had finally started to feel like I was moving on, or at least like I was ready to move on and start a new chapter of my life without the shadow of Andrew hovering over me.
So maybe, just maybe, I was ready. Ready to start something fresh, something that could breathe life back into my stitched up heart. But if anything was going to happen, it had to happen on its own and it had to be taken slowly. There would be no sense in rushing anything. I was on the verge of feeling ready, but not quite prepared to jump. But I was getting there.
A knock on the front door jolted me out of my thoughts and brought me back to the present. I checked the kitchen clock. Emerson was right on time.
I'd planned to take the bus to my parents' house for the barbecue, but Emerson had insisted on taking me on his bike — not that it had taken much arm twisting to get me to agree.
I checked in the mirror one last time to make sure my makeup and hair were in place and then I opened the door. Emerson was standing there with a big grin on his face.
“Hey, Brooke!”
“Hi, Emerson, you're right on time!”
“Always,” he said with a wink. “You ready?”
“Yep.”
“Great, let's go.”
We walked downstairs and headed out to his bike, which he hopped onto and started up. Now that I’d had some experience riding on the back, I felt a lot less nervous about being on the monster of a machine. In fact, I actually felt pretty excited.
I climbed up onto the back and wrapped my arms around Emerson. A hot thrill shot through my veins as my hands slid over his rock-hard, bulging abs before I locked my fingers together. It was night and day compared to Andrew's very average, slightly soft belly.
I almost instinctively ran my hands up a bit higher, wanting to feel his broad, solid chest, but I stopped myself.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled through his helmet.
“Yeah, I'm good,” I said.
“Great. Hang on!”
He clicked the machine into gear and took off. I tightened my grip. He must have realized I was more comfortable on the motorcycle because he was driving a fair bit faster than he had the first time I rode with him. I couldn't deny it was still a little scary, but also thrilling…and a turn on. It was pretty hot seeing how smoothly and confidently he was able to control such a powerful machine.
We arrived at the barbecue half an hour later. I dismounted with a huge grin plastered across my face. Emerson chuckled.
“It looks like someone isn’t so afraid of motorcycles now, huh? You look like a kid who's just gotten off a rollercoaster.”
I blushed and almost giggled, but tried not to come off as too much of a schoolgirl about it.
“It was fun,” I said, keeping it simple and smiling. “I felt a lot less nervous this time around. Oh, and just so you know, my dad will probably want to see your motorcycle. He was very much into them when he was younger. I think he even used to race when he was our age.”
“Sweet. I guess we'll have a lot to talk about then.”
“I guess you will,” I replied with a smile. “Come, let's go in and say hi.”
We had to walk through the house to get the backyard where everyone was gathered. Having Emerson with me felt a little strange, especially considering the last time I had been home with a guy it had been Andrew. Still, I put the weirdness aside and walked in. My mother was in the kitchen putting some final touches on the salad.
“Brooke, dear!” she said with a smile as soon as she caught sight of me, hurrying over to give me a big hug.
She then saw Emerson, waiting in the wings to be introduced. She smiled at him and extended a hand, which he took.
“You must be Emerson,” she said with a smile. “Lovely to meet you.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Mrs. Baker,” he said. “Thanks so much for inviting me here this afternoon. I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, please, call me Cam. And the more the merrier, I always say,” she added with a laugh. “We've got a huge feast prepared for y'all! Go on out back and say hi to your dad, BeeBee, and introduce Emerson to the others. I've gotta finish up this salad, then I'll see you outside.”
“Thanks,” said Emerson. “I can't wait to try that salad, it looks amazing.”
“Old family recipe,” she replied. “You'll never look at salad the same way again after trying this!”
“I suspect that might be the case!” he replied.
“Come on, Emerson, let's go outside and meet the others,” I suggested.
“After you, BeeBee,” he cracked a grin.
“Ya caught that, did ya?”
He followed me through the house to the backyard, looking around him as we walked.
“So this is where you grew up, huh?” he asked.
“Well, no, not really. This is where I lived my last two years of high school.”
“Oh yeah, you said you moved around a lot when you were a kid.”
“Yeah, with my dad being in the military.”
“A Navy man, huh? Am I gonna have to salute him and give him a 'yes, sir, no, sir,' when I meet him?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
I rolled my eyes. “He's not like that at all! And he wasn't a drill sergeant or anything like that, he worked on computers.”
“I was just joking,” he said with a wink. “I'm sure he's not intimidating at all,” he added sarcastically.
We stepped into the backyard where Dad and some of his friends were gathered around the grill drinking beer and watching the meat as it sizzled above the coals. Despite being about to turn fifty, my dad looked years younger. He ran marathons and was in very good shape. So, when he noticed that Emerson was in great shape, he seemed immediately impressed.
“Well, good day there, son,” he said as I introduced Emerson to him. “That's a good firm grip you've got there. You ever thought of joining the Navy? You'd make a fine candidate for the Seals.”
“As noble a calling as that is, Sir,” Emerson responded, “I think my talents lie in the field of science.”
“Well, there's all sorts of things you can do to serve God and country, son. Especially if you've got skills like that.”
“I'll keep that in mind, Sir. Of course, I still have to graduate before I can think of anything like that though.”
“No need to call me
sir,” Dad commented. “Rob will do.”
Emerson acknowledged with a nod of his head.
“Say, you want a beer, Emerson? We've got a cooler full of ice cold ones here.”
“Thanks, Rob, but I'm still a couple of months away from twenty-one,” he replied.
I was surprised to see him do that; I'd have thought he'd take up the offer right away.
“Aw, that's fine! Go on and have one,” my dad said, nudging Emerson playfully in the ribs. “No need to act like you've never had a brewski before!”
Emerson chuckled.
“No, sir, it’s not that. As long as you're okay with it, I’ll have one.”
“Wouldn't have offered if I wasn't.”
“But only one, I still have to drive your daughter home later this evening.” Emerson walked over to the cooler and grabbed a beer. He popped the top off and clinked the bottle with my dad's.
“Happy birthday, Rob,” he said, “and thanks for inviting me here today. I really appreciate it.”
“Thanks for coming, son!” he replied. “Now, Brooke here tells me you're into motorcycles.”
“That's right. We actually came here on my bike.”
“You managed to get Brooke on a motorcycle? You must be some kind of miracle worker or she really likes you,” Dad said without even attempting to act like he was joking.
I shot him a look and he quickly tried to recover.
“So, what are you riding?”
“It's a Kawasaki ZX6R.”
“Nice,” Dad replied, a sparkle of admiration gleaming in his eyes. “I'll have to go out front and have a look at her later.”
“Feel free to take it around the block, if you'd like,” Emerson offered.
Dad chuckled, and a look of sadness entered his eyes.
“If only I could, son. Thanks for the offer, but I can't ride bikes anymore.” He held up his left hand. “Carpal tunnel syndrome,” he said. “Can hardly do anything with this left hand of mine. Certainly can't operate a motorcycle clutch.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Emerson said. “But I'll take you on the back if you want,” he added with a chuckle.
