“Yes, okay,” Emilia whispers. I turn around and kneel down in front of her while she rises to her knees on my bed. Emilia shaves my hair carefully. Part of me was worried about putting a razor in her hands, but it seems my worry was groundless. She rests her hands on my shoulder and cups my neck as she works on me. I exhale in relief when she’s done and pull away from her instantly. When she’s this close to me it feels like I’m suffocating.
Emilia looks at me and I’m surprised when I see a brief flash of attraction in her eyes, followed by annoyance. I smile to myself. I don’t have to look in the mirror to know my new hairdo suits me just fine. Her face tells me everything I need to know.
Chapter 4
Emilia
I walk into my house to find it eerily silent yet again. We’ve been living here for years now, and it still doesn’t feel like home. I feel more at home at the Clarke's than I do here. It’s not exactly surprising either, since I spend more of my waking hours there than I do here. Thankfully, Helen wasn’t too angry after last week’s Nair prank. I hate it when she’s mad at me. I would’ve hid out in my house without a doubt, but she’s luckily just been acting like nothing happened. So has Carter – he hasn’t retaliated yet, and I wonder if it is because he feels bad about Zach. I ran into Zach the other day, and he immediately made up an excuse to get out of talking to me. I hope Carter feels terrible about ruining that for me.
I check my watch and bite down on my lip. It’s almost nine pm. When we first moved here dad would always be home by the time I got back from dinner at the Clarke's, and every once in a while he’d actually come back to have dinner with me. When did things change? I think we’ve only been having dinner together once a month or so in the last two years. Recently he’s actually just been staying away until I’m already fast asleep.
My mood drops and I walk towards the staircase dejectedly. I miss him. I miss the way Dad and I used to be. We used to hang out together, and he’d take me to eat junk food without my mom’s permission. It’s like I lost him when he lost my mother. I can’t even remember the last time we really talked. It’s like he stopped trying once he realized that I have Helen and Kate. Sometimes it feels like I’m a chore he puts up with. An unwanted reminder of my mother and the life he lost.
I jump when the front door opens with force. Dad walks in with a huge scowl on his face that transforms into pure anger when he spots me standing by the stairs.
“You’re home,” I murmur. He drops his briefcase to the floor and it pops open, a myriad of legal documents falling out. Looks like he’s preparing for yet another case. He doesn’t even glance at the papers. Instead, he’s looking at me with barely contained rage. I have no idea what’s wrong, but I’m certain I’m in trouble somehow.
“Emilia, do you want to explain to me why your mother called me to say you’ve been harassing her?”
My heart drops and I freeze. Harassing her? “I didn’t,” I deny immediately. He narrows his eyes and stares me down the way I imagine he does criminals in court. I’m intimidated immediately. He is, after all, the John Parker, the public prosecutor that put a drug cartel behind bars just a month ago.
“Did you send her countless emails and track her down on Facebook? She said you’re stalking her. Is that true?” he asks.
My heart completely shatters. She called dad to say I’m stalking her? Why didn’t she just reply to any of my emails? Why didn’t she just tell me that she wants nothing to do with me?
“Is it true?” he repeats.
I nod slowly and then shake my head instead. “It’s not like that, Dad. I found her profile on Facebook, and it had her email address on it. I just sent her a few emails to ask how she was doing.”
My dad walks up to me and pauses right in front of me. I’ve never seen him look so mad before, and definitely not at me. I don’t understand what I’ve even done wrong. He grabs my shoulders and shakes me suddenly. I’m so shocked that I don’t even know how to respond. Dad has never acted this way before – he’s never so much as punished me. It’s always Helen that grounds me when I deserve it.
“Emilia, why won’t you get it through your head? She left us,” he shouts. “She wants nothing to do with either of us. Today was the first day I spoke to her in years and it was because you’ve been harassing her! Are you crazy?” He’s trembling and the despair in his eyes is obvious. Just what did she say to him?
I bite down on my lip to keep from crying, but a tear drops down my cheek nonetheless. I’ve never felt this unwanted before. All I wanted was to talk to her. “Dad, I just wanted to know if she was happy. If she missed me. I thought maybe she’d want to see me...” I whisper. I feel silly for wanting to reach out. I feel like a fool for missing my own mother.
Dad lets go of me and takes a step back. He pulls a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. When did he even get this grey? He’s thinner than he’s ever been and he’s got bags underneath his eyes that never seem to go away. It’s been seven years, but my dad looks like he’s aged decades since my mother left. I wonder if the reason he loses himself in his work is because it allows him to forget about her. About me.
“She doesn’t want to see you, Emilia. I wish it were different, but it is what it is. Promise me you won’t contact her again. Why do you even want to speak to her at all?”
I sniff and look away. “I just miss her, dad. Why can’t I miss my mom? Why is it so crazy that I might wonder if she misses me too?”
Dad sighs and shakes his head. “Honey, do you even remember her? She never even spent much time with you. What could you possibly be missing?”
I look down at my feet, unable to explain why I feel the way I do. He’s right, I never spent much time with my mother. I’d usually be with a babysitter instead. But still, she’s my mom. You only get one mom in life, and she’s mine. I love Helen with all my heart, but she isn’t my mother, not truly. Yet if she can love me the way she clearly does, then surely my mother loves me even more?
“Dad, you’re never here. You’re always working and always pawning me off to the Clarke's. I love them, and they take great care of me, but they aren’t my real family. You and Mom are. I’m always alone in the house or I’m at the Clarke's, and I miss having a family. Why shouldn’t I get in touch with my own mother?”
My dad frowns and looks away, dismayed. “I’m never home because I work my damn ass off to provide for you, Emilia. When your mother left, she took half of everything I own. She took your damn college fund! The woman took your future away, and you still want to get in touch with her?” he snarls.
I look at him in disbelief. Surely that isn’t true. Even if they did split their assets evenly, I doubt she’d have asked for my college fund specifically, and even so, I know we’re far from struggling. We’re not as well off as before my parents divorced, but we’re definitely not doing so bad either.
Dad shakes his head at me disapprovingly. “You’re so ungrateful, Emilia. Just like Isabella. You’re just like your mother,” he murmurs.
He pushes past me and walks up the stairs. He’ll undoubtedly disappear into his room for the rest of the night. Our conversation is clearly over. I sink to my knees on the floor and try my best to hold back my tears. I never meant to be ungrateful – I just wanted to talk to my mother. I just wanted to know if she ever thinks of me at all. If she regrets leaving me.
I stare at the front door longingly. All I want to do is hide and burst into tears in private. I want to sob my heart out, and I don’t want my dad to find out just how hurt I am. I pick myself up off the floor and walk out, closing the door behind me silently.
Chapter 5
Carter
I was studying at my desk when I spotted movement from my bedroom window. Someone is walking through Emilia’s backyard. I frown and lean in closer to get a better look. It’s her. Emilia walks straight to the hedge between our gardens and worms her way through it. Is she trying to sneak in to speak to Kate? Why would she be so stealthy about it?
&nb
sp; I walk down the stairs in a rush and move towards the kitchen window to keep an eye on her. She isn’t headed for the house at all. Instead, she walks straight towards the treehouse in the backyard. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs and looks up. She seems to hesitate, and I can’t help but feel like something is wrong with her. She walks up slowly and holds onto the hand rail along the stairs as though it’s all that’s keeping her standing. I’m rarely genuinely worried about her, but tonight something seems off.
I wonder if I should get Kate to check up on her, but then I shake my head. If she wanted to talk to Kate, she would’ve just come into the house. It seems like she wants some peace and quiet, and while I’d love to respect her wishes and give that to her, I need to make sure that she’s alright.
I glance up at the stairs. The house is quiet. I doubt my mom will realize if I sneak out for a bit. I nod to myself and make my way to the back door. I’m oddly nervous as I walk to the treehouse. I look up at it, my eyes lingering on the sign Kate and I made. It used to read Kate and Carter’s Treehouse, but Emilia stuck a bit of wood over it with her own name on it so it now reads Kate and Emilia’s Treehouse. Initially I kept removing it, but she’s far too persistent. That’s one fight she actually ended up winning.
I walk up the stairs, the steps creaking just slightly underneath my weight. I pause halfway up when I think I hear something. It’s soft, but it’s definitely the sound of crying. My heart clenches painfully. Emilia is crying? I can count the amount of times I’ve seen her cry on one hand. What could’ve possibly happened to make her cry? Did she argue with Kate?
I walk up the remaining steps and pause by the entrance. Should I enter, or walk away and pretend I didn’t realize? The sound of her sobbing intensifies and my mind is made up. I enter the treehouse soundlessly and spot her lying down on the window seat. She’s lying with her back towards me, her shoulders shaking. Each one of her sobs tears me apart. I walk up to her and ditch my flip flops next to hers. She’s crying so hard that she has yet to notice me. I sigh and lie down next to her. I spoon her and throw my arms around her, hugging her tightly. She gasps and freezes before turning around to face me. My heart aches when I see the countless tears on her tiny little face. She sniffs loudly and looks into my eyes. She looks so incredibly lost and hurt.
Emilia grabs my t-shirt and holds onto it tightly, the fabric stretching in her fists. She starts sobbing even louder, as though her heart is irreparably broken. I throw my arms around her and hug her, her body flush against mine. I stroke her back soothingly and don’t say a word. I just lie there with her and pat her hair and her back, over and over again. She cries for what feels like hours and a little bit of my heart chips away with every sob that escapes her lips.
Eventually she manages to calm herself down. She relaxes in my arms, her breathing still uneven. It’s like she’s choking on her sobs, and I hate that there’s nothing I can do to make it stop. Emilia isn’t much of a crier. She never has been, not even when we were younger, so it breaks my heart to find her crying like this. I don’t want to see her in pain for a single second.
She pushes her face against my chest and I tangle my hand into her hair. She seems to want me close, but she doesn’t want me to see her. I guess I’m the last person she wants to be caught in a vulnerable state by. In the last couple of weeks things have been more tense between us than usual. I guess I’ve messed with her a little too much. I’ve pushed her away just a little too far.
“Wanna talk about it?” I whisper.
She shakes her head and clenches my t-shirt in her hand. The fabric is soaking wet from all the tears she shed, and it’s clinging to my skin annoyingly. Nonetheless, I don’t move a muscle. Emilia’s breathing evens after a couple of minutes and she brazenly grabs my t-shirt to wipe away her remaining tears. I chuckle and shake my head, letting her do as she pleases. Eventually, she pulls away from me a little, her eyes red and her expression sullen.
I grab my t-shirt at the edges and pull it up and over my head before handing it to her. “You’ve already soaked it through, Emilia. Just use it and return it to me next time,” I whisper. She looks startled and takes it from me. I lean back and watch her while she uses my t-shirt to wipe her face and her puffy red eyes. My minx isn’t a pretty crier, she never has been. She’s never been fake or half-hearted in anything she does.
“Come here,” I whisper, opening my arms for her. She doesn’t hesitate to throw herself back into my hold. I close my arms around her and she presses her nose against my naked chest while my hand finds its way back to her hair. She lies there in silence until she’s finally breathing evenly again and she stops shaking.
“I contacted my mom,” she tells me eventually. I tense. That woman is straight up trouble. Any woman that can leave her own child for another man isn’t worth a second thought in my books, but I get it. I get Emilia’s need for a connection. I see the way she looks at my mom sometimes, and I saw just how hurt she was when my mom was about to scold her over the Nair prank. It’s the closest my mom has ever gotten to being disappointed in Emilia. It was different from her occasional half-hearted scoldings, and I saw how much it tore Emilia apart.
“My dad found out. Apparently, she called him saying that I was stalking her because I emailed her a few times and sent her a friend request on Facebook.”
I nod slightly and stroke her back as she tells me about her argument with her dad. She pauses multiple times to swallow down her tears. When she’s done talking I’m filled with rage. Both her parents must be insane. How could her dad get so mad over something like this? If anything, he should’ve defended Emilia’s actions. What kind of mother would accuse her own child of stalking her?
“Emilia, your dad was just tired and upset,” I whisper. I have no idea what he was thinking, but my need to console Emilia is greater than my anger at his actions. “He didn’t mean what he said. You’re not ungrateful at all. You never get into trouble with anyone other than me and your grades are consistently the highest in your class. I know how hard you work for that. I know his words hurt, but I promise you he didn’t mean them. It’s gotta be tough on him to hear from your mom again, and for it to be over something like this.”
She’s silent as she thinks my words over. I don’t know what to say to her about her mom. I understand why she did what she did, even if I don’t agree with her. I personally think Emilia shouldn’t contact her mother either, but I can’t say that to her without hurting her even further.
Eventually she pushes away from me and sits up. Her eyes roam over my body, as though she’s only just realizing that I’m half naked. Her gaze lingers on my abs and she blushes as she moves away from me. She’s so antsy and nervous all of a sudden that I can’t help but grin. Too cute.
“I— uh… thank you,” she murmurs. It’s like she’s finally realizing how intimately entwined we’ve been, as if she’s only just noticing that she’s been lying on my naked chest.
Emilia twists my t-shirt around in her hands, as though she’s thinking of what to say. I sit up and drink her in. It’s rare for me to find her looking so… sweet. Emilia smiles at me tightly before turning and fleeing, my t-shirt in her hands.
Chapter 6
Carter
I glance at Emilia from across the cafeteria. She’s been silent and subdued all week. I get why she’s so upset, but Mom and Kate don’t. They’re worried about her, and she won’t tell them what’s wrong. I guess she might be a little embarrassed about the situation. How could she not be? How do you tell someone that your mother accused you of stalking her because you sent her a Facebook friend request? I get it, but my mom and Kate don’t, and Kate especially is worried sick. As far as I know Emilia has never kept anything from Kate, so this is a first. This is the first time my little sister is at a loss and unable to cheer up her best friend.
Kate’s eyes meet mine and she looks so sorrowful that I’m tempted to tell her what happened, but I can’t betray Emilia’s trust like that. It looks like
Kate is hurting right along with Emilia. I hate seeing both of my girls so unhappy. I thought Emilia would snap out of it eventually, but it’s been a week and she’s still just so sad. There’s no other way to describe Emilia’s mood. She’s sad and heartbroken. I’ll need to do something. I need to make this better somehow.
“What’s wrong man?” Asher asks. I turn to look at my best friend. He’s looks just as worried as I do. “Is it the girls? They’ve been weird.”
I sigh. Even Asher noticed, huh? Both of them really have been awfully silent. Emilia hasn’t pulled a single prank on me and Kate hasn’t been secretly goading her to. “Yeah,” I murmur. “It’s the girls, it’s Emilia. I’ll fix it, though.”
Asher’s eyes move back to the table the girls are at and he blushes just slightly. I follow his gaze to find Emilia looking at us. Her eyes meet mine and the edges of her lips tip up in a polite smile. That’s gotta be the first time I’d rather she glared at me than smile at me. I want to see her eyes flash. I can’t stand seeing her looking so numb.
“What can I do to help?” Asher asks. I look at him through narrowed eyes. Since when does he care about Emilia? “Kate has been so quiet lately,” he murmurs. “Usually she hangs out with us and tries to annoy us, but she’s been weird lately.”
I exhale in relief. “Kate?” I repeat numbly, relaxing instantly. It wasn’t Emilia he was looking at. It was Kate. I should be a lot more worried about my best friend looking at my younger sister like a lovesick puppy, but I’m not. I’m just glad it wasn’t Emilia. The mere idea of Asher with Emilia makes me feel uncomfortable.
Asher looks up at me, panicked. “I mean, Kate and Emilia. Usually they’re around to bother us, right? They’re both a bit weird.”
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