by RH Tucker
Before it starts, Micah turns and looks at Lana like she’s growing a second head. “This is so weird.”
Chapter 11
Carter
“Dude, that is so freaking weird,” Matt says, as we walk to history class after lunch.
We went the entire week without him bringing up the subject of why I was acting weird at practice, probably because I've been in a great mood all week. I'd taken the chance on the goodnight text, and it worked out. The next morning, I decided to swing for the fences and text her good morning.
Ever since then we’d been texting each other every day, multiple times throughout the day. I’d learned stuff she likes, like art. Her favorite foods and band, which was another plus because we both love Empire of The Sun. She told me about this great family vacation she went on with her parents. I told her how I love basketball, and I’ve been to over a hundred Clippers games since I was little. How none of my classes are my favorite, but if I had to choose, then science would be my favorite subject. I can’t deny that it’s insane, but it feels like the best possible way to be insane.
I've thought about what she looks like, but the more we've talked, I'm beginning not to care. This girl is real. She's genuine and sweet. Then I had to go and screw it up about possibly meeting her again.
I know I want to tread lightly. After I brought up the idea of possibly asking her out the first time, it seemed like she freaked out. Maybe she didn't know what to say, or she had to ask her friend. I don't know, but it didn't seem like a good sign. After this entire week, I thought maybe we were past that. Maybe, just maybe, I should take a chance on bringing it up again. But I didn't want to freak her out.
So, I mentioned the beach party that Matt has been hounding me about. I immediately followed it up with telling her it was no big deal. I try to make it sound light-hearted and add a winky-smiley face. But the entire lunch period goes by, and I don't receive a text back. Now I'm over analyzing the whole thing, and Matt arches an eyebrow at me.
When the bell rings to get to class, I figure it’s time to let the cat out of the bag. This way I’ll have a finite amount of time to tell him. By the time class starts, he can’t keep going on and on about how stupid it is. Because even if he is my best friend and a good guy, I know how crazy this thing sounds.
“Yeah, I know it’s weird,” I reply. “But, I’m telling you, it’s … weird, but in a good way.”
“Weird in a good way?” He raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, just think about this for a second, Matt." I try to keep my voice down, so people passing by won't hear. "Remember last year, when you went out with Pauline for a couple of weeks."
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so remember in the beginning you were all crazy about her. You thought she was awesome.”
“Totally.” He scoffs. “Then she turned out to be a psycho, stalked my Instagram page and blew up my DMs.”
“Exactly. Now, just think if you had gotten to know what she was really like before you made out with her at Jeremy’s that night. If you’d learned that stuff first, then you wouldn’t have ended up with a psycho chick stalking you for weeks.”
“Yeah, I guess. But, dude, she was insanely hot.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And you have no idea what this girl looks like. What she sounds like. Carter, you don’t even know her name.”
I let out an exasperated grunt, shaking my head. “I know, man. It’s just … it’s different. I can feel it. She’s unique.”
“I guess,” he mumbles. “Hey, what’s the handle you went with?”
I chuckle. “Big Baller 27.”
“Okay.” He laughs. “That’s not bad. But still, bro. This is so weird.”
“I know, I know.”
Right before we get to our classroom door, my phone chirps. I let out a nervous laugh, from both the anticipation of the text message and now Matt knowing what’s going on.
Emerald22: Sounds like fun. Hope you have a good time. Send me a selfie :)
I can’t help the grin that hit my lips. Looking at my phone, I can feel Matt’s eyes on me, as he mutters, “Oh, God.”
BigBaller27: Not until I get a selfie of u ;D
Switching my phone to silent, I walk into the class and find my desk in front of Matt's, just as the bell rings. Mrs. Yanick walks over to shut the door when Emma whisks into the room, squeezing by her.
“Ms. Sanchez, you know when the tardy bell rings.”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry. I got sidetracked for a moment.”
“Very well. Take your seat,” she says as Emma goes to her seat on the other side of the room.
I haven't spoken to her since she bumped into me, but we don't really talk as it is. She's an artsy girl, and Lucas has a major crush on her best friend, or at least it seems like that. One thing I do always notice about her is her clothes. Not only because what she wears shows off her curves, but it's always different. Like when she bumped into me. She was wearing all this dark stuff, but today is entirely the opposite. Her hair is pulled back, she has some nice capri pants on that hug her ass, and a shirt that shows just enough of her waist that makes you want to see more. She would fit in nicely with Sarah and the other cheerleaders, the way she's dressed today. Though, I'd guess she'd rather gouge out her eyeballs than hang out with the cheerleader girls.
She turns around to take her seat, and her eyes met mine. Suddenly I realize I'm staring at her chest and turn away quickly. Shit.
Through my peripheral, I can see she takes her seat, so I dare another glance, just to see if she's still looking my way. She is, and her eyes beam hatred at me. Matt must catch the eye line encounter happen because he nudges my shoulder, and I hear a chuckle out of him.
My mind starts to roam about my girl, wondering what she looks like. Damn, I’m thinking of her as my girl. She probably isn't going to be at the beach, but what would she look like out there? Would she be in a one-piece or a two-piece bikini? I wonder if she has short or long hair. I try to shake free from the thoughts, but they keep popping up for the rest of the day.
Chapter 12
Emma
I'd be lying if I said I'm not disappointed for most of the weekend. It's been a week of texting back and forth but on Saturday, my friend … texting friend … boyfriend … Oh God, I don’t even know what to call him, told me he was going out of town for most of the weekend and wouldn't be back until Sunday evening when he was going to the beach party. Even though I replied with something casual, the question crossed my mind; should we finally meet?
I end up going to the mall with Jen, and we hit up the art supply store since I need some new paints and brushes. Lana decides to meet us at the mall, and of course, the topic comes back to Big Baller.
“Okay,” she says as we walked into H&M. “I’ve been dying to know. Just how well do you know this guy? You clammed up pretty tight during lunch.”
“Yeah, what was that about?” Jen asks, browsing through a clothing rack.
“He mentioned something about a beach party this weekend,” I say, feeling more comfortable talking about it. “He said if he knew me, he’d invite me.”
"Emma!" Jen shouts, making a couple of ladies across the store turn and stare at us. "He brought it up again. You need to figure this out quickly."
I roll my eyes at her, as Lana asks what she means.
“He already asked her out once. Like, not so much point blank, but he definitely put it on the table. And then Emma freaked out.”
“I did not freak out.” I scowl at her.
"Really? You seemed freaked out when you got to my car after school."
“Okay, I freaked out a little. But, I’ll have you know, I didn’t freak out this time. Well, maybe a little, but I answered by the end of lunch. I even asked for a selfie.” I smile at what I consider a brash move, though I’m sure Jen would’ve asked for much more than that.
“Okay.” She smiles and resumes looking at clothes. “That’s not bad. What’d he say?”
“Hey, you never answered my question though.” Lana looks over at me.
“What question?”
“How well do you know him?”
"She should know him like the back of her hand, the number of texts they've been sending each other," Jen says, teasing me with a smile.
"Thanks." I shoot her an annoyed look. "Pretty well. I mean, we've covered all the essentials."
“His favorite food?” Lana asks.
“Spaghetti.”
“Color?”
“Green.”
“Favorite Band?”
“Empire of the Sun, which is mine too. How crazy is that?” I smile, remembering when we went over our favorite songs from them.
“What about secrets?” Lana lifts an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
“You guys message a lot, so you’ve got the surface stuff down. But have you told each other any secrets?” The way she sounds and looks when she says the word ‘secret’, is both flirty and roguish.
“I don’t understand.”
Jen walks over to me, draping her arm over my shoulder while looking at Lana. “Lan, this is Emma, remember? Our sweet little artist, who’s never even–”
“Jen!” I shoot her an angry look.
I've kissed a boy before. Two, as a matter of fact. Because Sophomore year, Jen dared me to at a party she was having. So, I know she isn't going to say I've never kissed anyone before. That leaves two options. Either she'll say something that would genuinely make my face turn red with embarrassment because both Jen and Lana are much more experienced with boys then me, or she'll say I've never had a boyfriend before. Which is true, but not something I'd like publicly paraded around while I'm shopping.
As I stop her from embarrassing me, worry starts to fill up inside. What if I meet this guy and I'm horrible at dating? What if I'm awful at kissing, or just terrible at being a girlfriend?
"I don't mean a bad secret or anything like that," Lana explains. "I just mean, you know, you guys talk a lot. Once you get to that certain level of comfortableness, you'll confess things to one another. It doesn't have to be huge or life-changing. It's just, you know, something between you two."
I nod my head as I stare at the pants I'm holding, thinking over her words. We've shared a lot of stuff. Some of it was trivial, and other things were more meaningful. He told me his mom raised him and that it was really difficult when his grandmother died three years ago because that was the only other family he was close to. But it didn't seem like a secret. It was just the path our conversation went down.
As my mind wonders what I could confide in him with, I hear a cackle of laughs coming from the other side of the store and have to force myself not to gag. Sarah Donovan and her horde of cheerleader friends. I look over the rack of clothes and watch as they joke with each other, near the bikinis. Jen and Lana follow my eye line, and we all stare at them, eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Absolutely," one of them gushes, as Sarah holds up a bikini top over her shirt. "Sarah, you'll look freaking hot in that."
“Won’t it be cold?” another of her friends adds.
“That’s the point.” Sarah looks at the bikini once more and then flings it over her arm. “Hopefully I get Carter to warm me up.”
They all snicker and move to another table of clothes. I nod to Jen and Lana, and we leave the store.
“Oh, barf!” Jen says as we walk out. Then, in a high-pitched tone, doing a horrible Sarah imitation, she flails her arms in the air. “I want Carter Dixon to warm me up. And by that, I mean jump my bones. Like at homecoming!”
We all start laughing when I'm reminded of Carter in history class. "That skeez is always checking me out in history." Lana and Jen both exchange looks, then stare at me. "What?"
“Hate to break it to you, Emma, but a lot of guys check you out at school.” Lana smirks.
“Especially, those days you like to get dressed up in your skirts.” Jen lets out a purring sound and acts like she’s clawing at me.
“Fine, whatever. But still, like, at least have some decency about it. Look at me when I’m not looking, like the other perverts in school.”
“He is fine though,” Jen says.
“Mmm hmm,” Lana adds, catching us both off guard, as we look at her. “What? Micah’s friends with Taylor. We’ve gone to a couple of their basketball games this year.”
“So, what?” Jen wiggles her eyebrows, elbowing her in the side. “When Micah gets up to use the bathroom, you just fantasize about the varsity basketball team?”
Lana smiles, raising her chin in confidence. “Hey, just because I have my dinner, doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu.”
We all unleash a flurry of laughs again, making our way to another store. As we continue to window shop, I'm hit with an idea. Maybe something that will give me a firm yes or no on whether I should advance this and finally meet him, or just drop it all together. I think we need to share a secret.
Chapter 13
Carter
We have a basketball tournament over the weekend, so I tell Emerald my text messages will probably be sporadic. When she replied about sending her a selfie from the beach party, I wanted to say to her we should finally meet. But I don't know how to bring it up without making it seem weird. If she did freak out that last time I brought it up, I need to tread lightly.
The basketball tournament is in Bakersfield, and even though we win a game, we don't play very well. The only good thing about it is that since it's a tournament, it doesn't count against out win/loss record, so we still have a chance at making the playoffs. Most of us are bummed on the bus ride home, but that doesn’t stop Jeremy from bringing up Tamara’s beach party.
“Dude, I just want to go home.”
“Don’t be lame,” Jeremy says as he munches on some chips. “It’s the perfect thing to get our mind off this lousy tournament.”
I start to shake my head when Matt chimes in. "Yeah, come on. It's not like you got a girl waiting for you."
I narrow my eyes at him while he chuckles to himself.
Jeremy looks over at me. "I heard Sarah, and her friends are gonna be there."
“Ugh.” I close my eyes, leaning back. “Have at it, bro, she’s more than willing to hook up with anyone.”
"And you would know." I want to argue but know I can't without revealing the truth. "They're gonna have a bonfire, Carter. Perfect lead to warming up the body."
“Come on, man,” Matt says a little lower, leaning back in the seat next to me. “Who knows if you’re even ever going to meet …” He shoots me a confused look. “Damn, what do you even call her?”
“Emerald,” I whisper.
"You got her name? Sounds like a stripper name."
I let out a laugh. “No, man. It’s her handle. Emerald22. I just call her Emerald.”
“Fine.” He lets out a sigh. “But seriously, if she hasn’t brought up meeting you yet and it’s already been a week, how long is this thing going to go on? You willing to date a girl through texting forever?”
It's not like I haven't thought about that. I have. But I'm still not sure what my answer is. If I knew who she was, then it might be different. I'd be able to see her and talk to her. As much as I love learning new things about her and learning who she is, how long can we go on just texting back and forth, not even exchanging names? Matt nudges my arm, handing me a bag of beef jerky.
“Okay,” I an
swer. “Let’s hit the party tonight. Just promise to try and keep Sarah off my jock. Ever since homecoming, she’s wanted to finish what we started.”
“Hey, you never did answer me about why you guys never finished.” I look at him confused. He knows the story and how we got interrupted. “No, I don’t mean in the bathroom. I just mean, you know, in general?”
I stare at the seat in front of me, thinking about it for a second. I know Matt will get it, so I keep my voice low.
“Was it insanely hot? Yeah. But, dude, the day I asked her to the dance, she already wanted to hook up. Like, literally. She texted me that night. I was the one who said we should wait until we knew each other a little better. Not that I’m not down for a good time, but come on. It just made me wonder who the hell else she’s hooked up with?”
A big reason Matt is my best friend is that we kind of think alike. Most guys would've been totally down to hook up with Sarah that first night. And hey, to each their own. But honestly, I've never been like that, despite the rumors I've embraced.
And the rumors were running rampant through Woodbridge. Everything from how many girls I've been with, to what classrooms we've hooked up in. After homecoming, they went ballistic. It's like one little spark at homecoming unleashed a raging inferno, and I did nothing to quell the flames. I liked that it helped boost my reputation as one of the most popular guys in school. Who cares if Matt and I are the only ones that know the truth. So what, if some people thought it made me a manwhore or some cocky douche. You can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs.
By the time we get back home, the sun is starting to go down. I'm still debating with myself about going to the beach party, but I told Matt I'd pick him up and don't want to hear him complain, so I throw on some shorts and a hoody. It'll probably be a little chilly on the beach, but with the bonfire, the hoodie should be good enough.