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“This time, I'm calling the cops,” Leslie hissed. “I've had it; I've totally had it with those two assholes! This just keeps on happening! Jesus, I can hardly even hear myself over that racket!”
“Hold up, hold up. Don't call the cops, Les, just wait a sec. I'll go over and get them to turn it down, alright?”
“No, Brooke, no. They need to be taught a lesson. You going over there and asking them nicely just means they'll keep doing this again and again because they know the consequences are gonna be nothing. Nope. They must know that when they act like complete, inconsiderate, selfish jerks who wreck everyone else's peace and quiet, that there are gonna be consequences!”
“Please, Les, come on. It's just gonna cause so much friction, and we don't need that with the neighbors. Look, I'll go over there with my best angry face
on. I'll give them hell this time. No more Miss Nice Brooke; I'll be mean! They won't do it again.”
“Brooke, girl, I love you, but you couldn't scare those two if your life depended on it. I'm sorry, but this is the last straw. We have a right to peace and quiet here, and that's an impossibility with those two jerks next door pulling this kind of shit all the time. I'm making the call.” She strode into the kitchen where she’d left her phone. My heart started pounding madly in my chest. I could feel my breath quickening. I had to stop this somehow, I had to, but I had no idea what to do; I felt totally paralyzed.
But then, as Leslie was about to dial the cops, the music stopped. She stood, staring at the wall with fury in her eyes and her fingers on the phone, just waiting for the music to start again. I waited with bated breath, but the silence remained.
I let out a sigh of relief, and Leslie shook her head, muttered under her breath, and put the phone back in her pocket.
Emerson and Chris were safe.
For now.
Chapter Eighteen
Emerson
I sat staring at the cactus I'd bought from Brooke. I was supposed to be studying, but my mind kept wandering. Maybe having the plant sitting on my desk wasn’t the best idea since I thought about her every time I looked at it. Chris had already given me a load of shit for buying it, but I didn't care.
I couldn’t help but be impressed with Brooke. She really seemed to have her life together. Not many adults I knew seemed to be as together and focused as her. Nor did they think of someone other than themselves. I hadn't taken her for the type who'd get into charity work, but it was something she was passionate about. That was obvious by the way her eyes lit up when she talked about helping the less fortunate.
I could honestly say I'd never met a girl quite like her in my life. No, Brooke was totally different—refreshingly different from any of the girls I had dated before, and especially different from girls like Melissa and her friends, who I doubted had ever done a single thing for anyone besides themselves.
The front door opening yanked me from my thoughts. I heard Chris come into the apartment. A minute later, he and Ciara, one of Melissa’s friends, were standing in the doorway of my bedroom.
“Yo, bro,” he said as he leaned against the doorframe.
“Hey, Emerson,” Ciara chimed from behind him.
“Hey, guys,” I replied. “What's going on?”
“Not much, broski,” said Chris. “Other than we just scored ourselves a bottle of tequila. Wanna have some fun?”
I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. “Nah. It's a Tuesday night, and I need to study for a test I have tomorrow. No drinking for me.” I shot him a serious glare. “I'm pretty sure you've got a test tomorrow, too.”
“Aw, come on, Emerson,” Ciara urged, “don't be such a bore. Jeez. It's just a little tequila.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just a little tequila? Seriously? Are you guys gonna drink it with an eyedropper, one drop at a time? I'm not as stupid as I look. I know where just a little tequila leads and I told you, I don't want to drink.”
“Well, too bad, E, because we do. And I wanna jam some tunes on my decks.”
“Dude, please! I just told you I've got a test tomorrow. Can't you guys just go to a bar or something? Or at least stay in your room and keep it down? I seriously can't get anything done if you guys are in here drinking and DJing.”
“When did you become such an old-timer, Emerson?” Ciara asked with distaste smeared across her face.
“You know what? Whatever,” I said, annoyance coloring my voice. “I'll just go to the damn campus library and study. You two have a good time.”
“Come on, brah, just put the stupid books away and have a few shots with us. I even bought limes and salt,” Chris encouraged.
“I told you, I have to study tonight, man. And if I can't do that here, I'll just have to do it elsewhere, right?”
“Shit, bro. Ciara’s right; you really are turning into an old man.”
