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“Well, the music's quieter now, right?”
She glared at me with that knowing expression of her. She knew how upset I was. “Oh no, were they jerks about it?” she asked.
“No, well, Chris kinda was. Emerson wasn’t. But those girls they had in there—you know, the same group of airheads who were at their party before. Jeez, Les, they looked at me like I was the devil incarnate. They gave me these cold-hearted, bitchy stares like I was the one in the wrong.”
Leslie gave me a hug. “Aw, don't let the idiots get to you. They were being complete assholes. It's a good thing I didn't go over there because you can bet a can of whoop-ass would've been opened, especially if any of those dumb bitches had dared give me the hairy eyeball. I've got half a mind to go over there right now anyway and hand out a few ass-whoopins.”
“No, Les, let it go. I've taken care of it. The music is down, and I don’t think they’ll turn it up again. We don't need any more conflict tonight. Let's just go to bed.”
“Alright, if you insist.”
“I do.”
We both went to our rooms. I got ready and slipped into my bed, still feeling a little awful from the confrontation. I turned the lights off and fell asleep to the muffled thumping of dance music faintly coming through the wall next to me.
***
When I walked into chemistry class, the chair I had planned on making my usual seat was taken. The one next to it was open, however, so I walked into the lecture hall and sat down.
I didn’t recall seeing the guy sitting in my seat in this class on Monday, I had scoped everyone out since I was one of the first ones to arrive the first day of class. I’d have remembered him. He was really good-looking. Not as striking as Emerson, but like my neighbor, this guy looked like he worked out regularly. He had short-cropped, dark blond hair, a bit of rough stubble on his face, and the black-rimmed glasses he wore gave him an intellectual air, which I had to admit I found quite alluring.
He glanced across at me as I took my seat and smiled. “Hi,” he said. “Sorry, did I take your seat?”
“Um, yeah, actually you did. But it's okay, this seat’s fine.”
“Sorry about that. I just transferred into this class and didn't know if people had regular seats or what. I'll move, it's fine.”
“No, no, you can stay. Nobody sits in this chair, so I'll just stay here.”
“I'm Garrett, by the way,” he said with a smile, extending his hand to me.
I shook it, noticing immediately how strong and firm his grip was. “I'm Brooke. Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, likewise. So, tell me, Brooke, how are you enjoying this class so far?”
“Well, we’ve only had one class, but the professor is awesome. She's totally got a knack for explaining difficult concepts in a way that makes them easy to grasp. But I don’t know if you can go by me. Since I was a kid, I've always been fascinated with chemistry, so I might have an edge in understanding it.”
“Nice. When I was little, I used to mix all sorts of things together in jars, pretending they were beakers on Bunsen burners. My dad was pretty stoked about it because he's a physicist, but Mom wasn't too pleased. Probably because she always had to clean up the mess afterward.”
“Yeah, I'm sure she wasn't too happy about that.” I chuckled, then let out a yawn. It was early and I hadn't gotten enough sleep. Emerson and Chris had kept their party going until the early hours of the morning, and the music, although turned down, had still come through my wall and woke me up a few times.
“Late night last night?” Garrett asked.
“Yeah, but it wasn't by choice. My neighbors are two frat-boy types. One of them apparently just got a new sound system and they were playing loud music until the early hours of the m
orning. I couldn't get any sleep.”
“Oh man, they sound like real winners. Why didn't you call the cops on 'em?”
“Well, uh, that sounds a bit extreme. And, I'm sure the cops have more important things to attend to.”
“In this town? Nothing happens here, Brooke. Next time, call the cops. I promise it works. I lived next to this guy who used to get drunk and play drums until after midnight.”
“Drums? Oh man, that must have been terrible.”
“It was, trust me. He wasn't even a good drummer!”
I laughed. “Wow, so it was super bad, huh?”
