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I smiled, still trying to force the unwanted thoughts of Emerson and his bimbo girlfriend out of my mind. “Sounds like a plan.”
***
The sun was starting to hang low in the sky when I noticed my head was beginning to hurt a little. I'd been reading through the first few chapters of my physics textbook for a while. A glance at the clock made me realize I’d been at it for nearly two hours. I took my reading glasses off, applied pressure to my temples for a few moments, and then stood up from the desk and stretched. My lower back was stiff from sitting in the desk chair too long. What I needed was a little exercise, but I hadn’t had the time to unpack my running shoes. I did feel like getting some fresh air and sunshine while the daylight lasted, though.
I walked through to the living room where Leslie was curled up on the sofa with a steaming hot mug of coffee, watching a documentary on The History Channel about ancient Egypt.
“Brushing up for the new semester, too?” I asked.
“Yeah, I thought seeing as I've got a minor in world history, getting in some History Channel might not be a bad thing.”
I nodded. “I'm heading out for a walk. I might stop by the supermarket down the block while I'm out; you need anything?”
“Umm, I guess we just need some milk. Though, chocolate chip cookies would be nice, too. And, what are we gonna have for dinner?”
I laughed at her ongoing list. “I was thinking pasta with some veggies; something nice and healthy. Especially if you’re going to force me to eat cookies.”
“Yeah, I like the sound of that. Let's do it.”
“The cookies or the dinner?” I joked.
“Both!”
“Okay, I'll pick up some veggies, too, then.”
“Enjoy the walk. Looks like it's a beautiful afternoon to be out.”
“Yeah, if I get back early enough maybe we should take the bikes out for a ride? Head to the park or something?”
“Sure thing. Be careful.”
“Will do. See ya in a bit.”
I walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind me and humming an Adele tune. Just as I reached the front walkway of the apartment block, I heard the sound of a motorcycle engine revving.
As much as I would have liked to say otherwise, my heart started beating a little faster knowing that Emerson was just a matter of feet away on his bike. I hesitated at the edge of the breezeway that ran along the front of the apartments, peering at the street through the shrubs. I felt a little nervous and awkward about se
eing him, especially after yesterday with that bimbo, and of course, after the sounds I'd heard coming through the walls.
I saw him straddling his bike which he had just started up. And there, climbing onto the back, dressed in a skin-tight, massively-revealing outfit, was that Melissa girl. I immediately stepped back behind the door, feeling my heart thumping in my chest.
“Come on,” I whispered to myself. “You're being totally irrational! You don't even like the guy! Why are you getting all jealous about him and his skanky girlfriend? Just walk out, say a polite hello, and keep on walking. Seriously! Why are you hiding like a confused adolescent?!”
I was being ridiculous. There was no logical reason for me to be feeling like I was, especially for some douchebag, hot-shot jock who was the polar opposite of my type. I drew in a deep breath, composed myself, and made sure I had an expression of calm neutrality on my face, and then I walked out, looking as nonchalant and carefree as possible.
“Hi, Emerson. Hi… um… what was your name again?” is what I was going to say. But I didn’t get the chance. Granted, it was petty, but I sure as hell wasn't going to give that poor excuse for a woman the satisfaction of knowing that she'd made enough of an impression on me for me to remember her name. Even if the reason I did remember, it was because she’d made a terrible impression.
I strutted down the walkway, running a hand through my hair which was, I had to admit, looking especially sexy and luscious for a bummed-out Saturday. I fully prepared myself to dish out my cool disdain to jock-boy and bimbo, but I was quickly stopped in my tracks.
He was already on the bike, his helmet on, glancing up and down the street to make sure it was clear. She was hanging on his back, her arms wrapped tight around his torso like those ugly little primates with the big bulging eyes I’d seen at a zoo once.
He clicked the rumbling machine into gear and with a fistful of loud, roaring throttle, he took off at a blistering pace and quickly disappeared around a bend at the end of the road as smoothly as any racer I’d ever seen handle a bike on TV. There was something sexy and alluring about it.
But more than the unwanted impulse of attraction, which I quickly suppressed, I felt disappointment. After gearing myself up for a performance—I'd wanted to show him and Melissa just how little I cared about them—I'd been denied an audience.
Okay, so maybe it was more than a little petty. In fact, it was pretty full-on bitchy. I had no clue what had come over me. I shook my head and shook out my arms too, trying to rid myself of this strange, uncomfortable feeling that seemed to take hold of me whenever I saw Emerson.
There was only one way to get past it. I needed to avoid him and his chauvinist friend, Chris, as much as possible. Given that they lived next door to me, I realized that might prove difficult. Nonetheless, I had to do it.
