Authors: Rebecca Donovan
My phone beeped.
Can I come over?
I hesitated, not sure how to tell Evan "no" without it coming across wrong.
Trying to get this paper done. See you tomorrow, okay?
I looked to the bottle again and pressed
Send
. I didn't want him to see this. To see her.
Okay
, he texted back. I returned the phone to my pocket as I walked back into the living room.
"You must think I'm pathetic," she uttered, her heavy tongue making her words jumbled. She ran her hand across her face, clumsily pushing her hair behind her ear. "That I'm like this over a guy."
"I don't think that," I said calmly. I watched as she breathed in deeply through her nose with her eyes closed, having a hard time forcing them open. "Why don't I help you upstairs to bed?"
"Yeah," she breathed, "getting tired. Should've eaten."
I offered her my hand to help her from the couch. She grabbed onto it and hoisted herself up, swaying slightly. "Whoa, head rush."
I shut everything off―the disappointment, the frustration, the anger―and just focused on getting her up the stairs without wiping out. She crawled into the bed, and I removed her shoes before covering her. She pulled the blankets under her chin and looked up at me guiltily.
"It's not because I like him so much," she offered. "That's not it. I mean I do like him a lot." She took a deep breath, her eyes watering. I swallowed hard, stung by the sadness surfacing in her eyes.
"I don't want to be alone." Her lower lip quivered, and she rolled away from me.
Her words punched me in the chest. Her back shook as she began to cry. I bit my lip and hesitated, tempted to touch her, to try to console her. But I quietly walked out the door, shutting it behind me.
My mother's sobs could be heard through the door. Still incapacitated by her words, I slid down the door frame and hugged my knees into my chest. The anger and disappointment were replaced with heartache. Tears slid down my cheeks as I listened to her cry.
I'd done this before.
We'd
done this before. I spent most of my childhood listening to her cry. Her cries haunted me, still echoing through my head when I tried to sleep that night.
~~~~~
"Are you okay?"
"Huh?" I shook out of my stupor to find my locker door wide open and Sara staring at me.
"You've been staring in your locker for forever and haven't touched anything. What's going on?"
"Didn't sleep much," I replied. My mother's cries were still ringing in my head. Half-forgotten memories pulled at me, the nights of tantrums, full of rage and pain―I used to hide under my covers, shaking. I blinked to force myself back into the bustling halls.
"What else is new?" she grinned, bumping me with her shoulder. "Want to sleep over tonight?"
I opened my mouth to say yes, but I didn't. Jonathan wouldn't be back until tomorrow, and I wasn't so sure it was a good idea to leave my mother home alone.
"How about Saturday?" I offered instead.
"Okay." Sara closed her locker and headed to class. I grabbed my books and went to the computer lab, skipping Political Theory to get my English assignment done. The assignment I never touched last night.
I fought through the rest of the day and faked pleasantries with Analise in Art class, wishing the nail assignment was done already so Evan could take back his place next to me.
"Are you staying for Evan's game tonight?" she asked, bright and eager.
I nodded. I didn't bother to ask if she was staying, because I already knew that answer.
"Maybe we can sit together," she chirped happily.
"Maybe," I forced pleasantly, not looking up from aggressively hammering the nail into place.
Her sunshine and rainbows smile was too bright for my emotional hangover. I was afraid I'd have to squint to look at her, so I kept my head down―making it look like I was concentrating on my work. She let me be for the rest of class.
Evan was waiting for me at my locker with his backpack over his shoulder.
"Hi," he said with a smile that shook me from my funk.
"I'm so happy to see your face right now," I sighed, throwing my arms around his ribs and burying my head into his chest. I inhaled and let his clean scent release the tension in my shoulders.
"Uh, okay." He laughed and squeezed me back. "Bad day?"
"Something like that." My face was still pressed into him, muffling my words.
"What are you doing after my game?"
I looked up, my arms still wrapped around him. "I have practice."
"That's right," he remembered. "We're getting something to eat after, and I was hoping you would come."
"Sorry," I offered with a grimace, finally releasing him. "But I'll see you tomorrow night after my game, right?"
"Of course," he smiled. "It's our date. Are you going home first to change, or are you doing that here?"
"I was hoping to shower at home. Is that okay? Or will that make us late?"
"No, that's not a problem. I need to do the same thing anyway. That should give you enough time, don't you think?"
"Yes," I responded, finally finding a reason to smile for the first time all day. "That sounds perfect." It was still all about waiting for Friday―for my date with Evan, and for Jonathan to come home to... tell my mother he was moving to California. But I refused to think about that part. I would deal with the repercussions of his talk with her
after
my date with Evan.
I kept Jill and Sara in between Analise and me during Evan's game. But it was hard to ignore her gleeful yelps whenever he'd block a shot or rebound the ball. Sara cocked her head toward Analise after a particularly enthusiastic round of cheering. She looked to me, about to say something, but I shook my head with a roll of my eyes. Sara laughed, reading my thoughts without a word.
"Are you coming with us for pizza?" Analise asked me as we made our way down the bleachers.
"I have practice," I told her, not thrilled that she was a part of the "we" Evan mentioned.
"Don't worry, I'll be there," Sara gushed in return, her smile a little too forced.
"Oh," Analise replied, her joy faltering slightly, "great."
Sara turned to me behind Analise's back with a wide mimicking smile, "Great."
I laughed and swatted her arm, "Don't be mean."
"Yeah, you're right." She groaned like it was difficult. "I'll be nice, I promise."
Sara was the easiest person in the world to get along with, and most people loved her instantly. But if she didn't like you... she could be vicious. She and I both knew that there was nothing particularly unlikable about Analise, but for some reason, we both found ourselves not exactly fond of her. I was actually kind of relieved that I wasn't the only one to harbor these inexplicable feelings toward the spritely girl who was eternally smiling.
"Evan, you were amazing," Analise praised merrily.
"Thanks," he responded. Finding me behind her, his eyes locked with mine. I squeezed by her and kissed him on the lips, despite the sweat that pressed against my cheeks. He exhaled slowly when I pulled away, "Thanks," he grinned, squeezing my hand.
"I should get ready for practice," I told him. "See you tomorrow?"
"I'll wait for you in the lobby," Analise told him, interrupting us.
"Okay, sure," Evan responded, glancing at her quickly. "I'll be a few minutes, but I'll find you."
I looked from Analise's blonde curls to Evan.
"I drove her," Evan explained, noticing the confusion on my face. I could only nod, afraid of what might spew out of my mouth if I opened it. He leaned down and kissed me again, "I'll see you tomorrow."
When I walked toward the locker room, my phone beeped.
Pathetic me going out with the girls after work. So so sorry about last night. Jonathan's back tomorrow―Yay! Promise to be good tonight!
Yup. Friday couldn't come fast enough.
20. No Such Thing as "Normal"
Nothing was going to keep me from enjoying every second of our date―nothing. Not Analise and her adorableness, or the fact that she
had
to sit next to Evan throughout my entire game―yes, I'd noticed. Not the fact that I hadn’t slept last night because I stayed up listening for my mother to come home. And when she finally did, she was staggering and giddy. And not even the fact that I was running late because I left my lights on in the parking lot and Jill had to jump start my car. I was
determined
to have an amazing night.
I jiggled my key free from the front door and slammed it behind me, barely noticing as I raced up that my mother had left the lights on at the top of the stairs. I flipped off my sneakers and flung them across my room, peeled off my socks and left them on the floor, then threw my sweaty game jersey in the hamper. I was struck with déjà vu―recognizing how similar this felt to the night Evan took me to the concert. All that was missing was Jonathan walking through the door unexpectedly.
I ran to the bathroom in my shorts and a sports bra, pushing open the door and shutting it behind me in one swift motion. And then I stopped in my tracks. Irony punching me in the face…
"Hey?" Jonathan stood in front of me gripping the waistband of his running pants, his dark brown eyes staring at me in shock.
"Uh, sorry," I gaped, instinctively crossing my arms over my chest as I stood immobilized in front of the door. Sweat ran down the side of his face, along the tendons of his thick neck and over the grooves of his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His face was still flushed and his sweaty t-shirt was crumpled on the bathroom floor. I clamped my mouth shut―it had inadvertently flopped open. "I didn't know you were here."
I quickly turned around and gripped the handle of the door. I had started to open it when Evan called out, "Em? I'm here."
I clicked the door shut. "Shit," I said through clenched teeth, banging my forehead against the frame. "Uh, I'm running late," I hollered through the door. "I'll be down in a little bit."
"Okay," he responded.
I breathed with my head still pressed against the wood, trying to figure out what to do.
"Wow," Jonathan breathed behind me, "this is awkward."
I spun around and glared at him. "You think?"
"So... you have a date?" he asked casually like we weren't standing in front of each other half naked and sweaty.
"Jonathan!" I scolded with wide eyes. "What am I supposed to do? How do I explain you coming out of the bathroom while I'm supposed to be taking a shower?!" I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
"It's okay," Jonathan soothed. But his comical expression lingered. "Just take a shower."
"What?!" I snapped, a little too loudly, then covered my mouth with my hand and listened, praying my voice hadn't carried downstairs. I heard the squeak of the front door and the rattling of the glass when it closed.
"Evan?" my mother acknowledged. "How are you? Where's Emily?"
My eyes couldn't stretch any wider without popping out of my head. Jonathan let out a small laugh, and my mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"She's taking a shower," he told her. "I guess she got held up after the game and she’s running late."
"Emily!" my mother bellowed, the creaks of the stairs drawing closer. "Are you almost done?"
The handle jiggled, and the door started to push open. I thrust my back against it, slamming it in her face.
"Hey!" she cried out.
"Sorry," I grimaced, latching the door so she couldn't open it. "I'm about to get in the shower. Do you need to get in here?"
"I can wait," she told me. "Have you seen Jonathan? He was supposed to be here by now."
I stared across from me as he pressed his mouth into a smile to keep from laughing. I was so annoyed I wanted to throw something at him.
"Uh, no," I replied, "but I didn't really look for him either."
Jonathan couldn't hold back and let out a constrained, breathy laugh.
"Stop!" I mouthed, my brows pulled together in warning. He only smiled wider.
"Okay, well, Evan's waiting for you."
"I know. I'll hurry." I closed my eyes and shook my head, knowing I had no choice. When I heard her walk away, I whispered, "Fine. I'll take a shower, but you have to stand by the door."
"Don't worry," he smirked, "I won't peek."
"Funny," I snapped sarcastically. "We have to switch spots so I can get to the shower. Please don't make this any more awkward than it already is."
In order to exchange places in this closet of a bathroom, I had to shimmy past him, pressed between the bathtub and the sink.
I turned my head to the side, inching past him with my stomach sucked in to avoid touching him. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and inhaled the mix of sweat and a crisp cologne that reminded me of the ocean. His slick skin slid across mine, despite my efforts to be as small as possible.
Jonathan chuckled from above me. I tilted my head up, our faces inches apart. "We have to stop meeting like this," he teased. I pulled past him quickly, my heart racing.
I picked up his damp t-shirt and threw it at him, making him laugh even more. I shook my head in exasperation and stepped into the tub just as Jonathan turned toward the door. I secured the shower curtain and stripped off the rest of my clothes, my heart beating so fast I was still sweating.
I cracked the curtain enough to drop my damp clothes in front of the toilet before turning on the water. It was the fastest shower of my life―and I'd been forced to take some pretty quick showers. I somehow managed to wash my hair and body at the same time.
When I turned off the water, I peeked out from behind the curtain, but Jonathan was gone. The door was closed but the latch was undone. I took a deep breath and grabbed for the towel.
"Jonathan?" my mother's confused voice trailed up the stairs. "You've been here this whole time?"
Realizing I hadn't brought any clothes in the bathroom with me, I took my mother's bathrobe off the hook on the closet door and secured it around me.