“Um, well, I like the gym,” I replied uneasily, avoiding eye contact, “but uh, I'm way too busy with other stuff to even think of doing something like that.”
Melissa rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “You're still persisting with that boring-ass science shit? You could be out making good cash right now, Emerson. You could model, for one thing. I told you, I've got connections to get you good-paying jobs. Or you could get serious about the gym and get your personal training certification like I have.”
“I'd have to drop out of college to take those jobs, Mel. They're all-day shoots, and often in different cities. And besides, I mean, thanks for the compliment and everything, but I just don't want to be a model. Science is my passion. Physics—”
“Is so lame and boring.” She rolled her eyes again. “And seriously, what are you gonna do with that when you graduate? Teach high school? There's no money in that.”
“It’s not about the money. Like I said, it's my passion and—”
“Hey, guys,” a new voice interrupted me. I glanced in its direction and saw Emily, one of Melissa's friends. She was dressed all in pink, and her bleached-blonde hair was done up in two bouncy pigtails. Like Melissa, she was well-built. And also like Melissa, I couldn't really be sure how much of it was real or how much of it had been surgically enhanced.
“Well, hey there, sexy,” Chris replied, looking Emily up and down with unabashed lust in his eyes. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, I'm totally awesome! You guys are looking good, all pumped up and sweaty, huh?”
“We've been crushing the lifts, yeah. Emerson here just broke his personal bench press record; he nailed two hundred and eighty pounds, yo.”
Emily beamed a toothy grin and me and clapped her hands with delight. “Nicely done, Emerson!”
Not to be bested, Chris had to interject. “Well, it's decent… for Emerson's standards. He's got a long way to go to get to four hundred pounds, though,” he said as he folded his arms across his chest and not-so-subtly flexed his upper body muscles to a point of bulging. “Just keep working hard, though, bro. We'll get you there.”
“Say, what are you guys up to tonight?” asked Mel.
“I'm—” I began, knowing where this was gonna go.
Chris, however, also knew where it was gonna go, and he wanted it to go there. “Nothing,” he said quickly, interrupting me before I could complete my sentence. “We've got no plans. You ladies wanna come over to our place for a drink or two? Then maybe we can head out and hit the clubs? It is Friday, after all, and the last weekend before the new semester starts.”
“Now, that sounds like a plan,” Melissa said, staring straight at me with a suggestive glint sparkling in her blue eyes. “I’ll bring the vodka.”
***
I needed to get out for a while. Chris had been playing Call of Duty for over three hours and I could only take so much war. The sounds of grenades exploding and machine guns firing were driving me a bit nuts, especially coming through his huge sound system. It sounded as loud in my room as it did in his, whether the door was closed or not. The walls inside our apartment were paper-thin.
I walked past his door and knocked on my way out. “Hey, dude, I'm going to get out of the apartment for a bit, maybe walk down the road. I might pick up some chips and whatever on the way back; you want anything?”
“Nah, bro, I'm good,” came the reply, almost drowned out by a hammering machine gun blast that seemed to rattle the walls themselves. I wondered if the new neighbors could hear Chris' game, too.
As soon as I stepped out of the front door, I had the chance to get an answer to that question, but I never asked. Brooke was stepping out of her apartment at the exact same time. An unexpected thrill rushed through my veins at the sight of her long raven hair spilling over her shoulders, revealed so casually through a strappy top. She was dragging what seemed to be a pretty heavy garbage bag out of the apartment.
I walked over to her and smiled. “Hi, Brooke.”
If she was happy to see me, she didn't really show it. “Hi, um…”
“Emerson,” I reminded her.
“Sorry, I'm terrible with names. I forget my own sometimes.”
“No worries, it's not the easiest name to remember. Hey, do you need a hand with that?”
“No,” she replied a little too quickly it seemed. “I'll be fine on my own.”
“Um, are you sure? That bag looks pretty heavy. I'm on my way out, I really don't mind helping you get it down to the dumpster.”
She paused for a moment, staring at the garbage bag. I could tell she was internally debating about whether to let me help her or not. I won't lie, it kind of annoyed me. I mean, come on, was her stuck-up pride really so important that she was gonna break her back hauling a garbage bag that weighs a ton just to avoid having to interact with me? Sheesh. I've encountered some ice queens before but this one seemed to be a freakin' ice empress. But still, those eyes of hers, they did something to me…
“Alright,” she responded quite unexpectedly. “Yeah, I'd be super grateful if you could help. The previous tenants didn't clean the place out too well. I called the landlord, but he said it would be Monday before he could get anyone out here to clean it. I can’t stay in such a mess until then. So we are doing it.”
“Sounds fun,” I chuckled as I walked over to grab the bag from her.