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“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 you, 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.”
We paused the show and went out on the balcony to see if someone had parked their pimped ride outside and had started an impromptu block party on the street. However, the street was quiet. There wasn’t a soul around. The deep thumping of music continued, though. We walked back inside, wondering where the sound was coming from.
“Damn, that is loud,” exclaimed Leslie. “Like seriously, what's going on?”
I thought I knew. I turned and walked into my room, and as soon as I opened the door, the sound seemed to come through a lot louder. Just as I had suspected, the music was coming from the apartment next door.
