Emily Calls It (The Emily Series)

by Laura Albright.

  Book Two · The Emily Series

  Emily Calls It

  Laura Albright

  Published by Laura Albright

  Copyright 2012 Laura Albright

  Cover design by Karen Duvall

  Author photo by Amy Shuman

  Interior layout by www.formatting4U.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author at Laura@Laura-Albright.com. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  For more information on the author and her works, please see http://www.Laura-Albright.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9857005-1-5

  This book is also available in print from some online retailers.

  For

  My sister, Bree-Eva

  Also By Laura Albright

  Call Me Emily

  Emily’s Calling

  Meet Emily

  CONTENTS

  1 The Return

  2 The Distraction

  3 On The Mend

  4 Back to LA

  5 The First Day

  6 Something New

  7 Backsliding…Just a Tad

  8 The Benefit

  9 The Third Wheel

  10 The Contenders

  11 Sometimes I’m So Off-Base

  12 Semester Begins with a Bang

  13 Back to School

  14 And Back to Work

  15 Dinner with Graham

  16 Dinner with Colin

  17 Such Men Dilemmas

  18 An Impromptu Date

  19 The Call One Dreads

  20 The Funeral

  21 Home Sweet School

  22 Changes Begin

  23 Study Partners Gone Bad

  24 Avoidance and Preparations

  25 The Ball

  26 Of All the Stupid Things

  27 Friend-land

  An Excerpt from Emily’s Calling

  1 A New Day

  About The Author

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It was right after Christmas 2009 when I’d realized writing was more than a hobby. I’d just finished Call Me Emily, and with one book complete, I knew writing was a huge part of my life. And now as I publish Emily Calls It and the remaining books in the Emily series, I have to give my love and heartfelt thanks to my husband Randy and son Lane. Thank you for the many times you ate dinner late, went swimming, snow skiing, mountain biking without me, and repeated what you just said because I was writing and only half-listening to you. You two are and have always been the best and most important part of my life.

  There is one person I thought of the entire time I was writing Emily Calls It: my sister, Bree. A teenager at the time, she was faced with so many decisions – love, friendship, family. Each one harder than the next. As a big sister I often offered her advice and rooted for Bree to make the right decisions. That vein of support stayed with me while I wrote Emily Calls It. So I want to thank Bree for inspiring me, and to let her know I’ll always stand beside her during her walk through life.

  ONE

  The Return

  It was warm that morning. Familiar yet not. It was strange to be here without him.

  Early June was a beautiful time in Two Rivers. The rain quenched the fields, orchards, and vineyards, leaving them lush and green. I pushed my way through tall grass trying to find the familiar trail that led to the water.

  It had been a year since I sat beside this particular stretch of river, and though I’d been through immeasurable change my first year of college, Two Rivers had not. The trail was exactly where I remembered it, almost as if I’d made it myself. I followed it, recognizing all the narrow dips and turns until the landscape opened up to reveal the river. I stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten how beautiful it was.

  I grew up here. In this small northern California valley, where the livestock and grapevine counts exceeded the population by thousands. And this spot. This used to be where I would come to think. There was a large, old, oak tree that had fallen years ago during a rough winter storm. Over time it had turned hard and grey, finding its final resting place on the riverbank. Surely dead, but still part of the landscape. I never told anyone, but I always called it my “thinking tree.” I balanced on a protruding root and boosted myself onto the trunk. I sat on the edge letting my legs hang over the side. From there the view of the river was amazing. It was widest at this spot and flat for a few miles. I could see everything.

  Swinging my legs and letting them graze the tree trunk, I did a quick mental recap of the last few months. There was Christian. I met him here, actually. In this place. A couple of months with him changed me forever. When he was no longer in my life, there was a void that never seemed to fill. That didn’t stop me from trying, though. My attempt worked temporarily…and ultimately failed. I met a guy I thought was perfect. We shared an intense several months before he went back to his ex-girlfriend, leaving my heart in a million pieces. So, I guess that was a quick recap. It was amazing to sum it up like that, considering the turmoil my life had been. I had a week, one week, before I needed to go back to southern California to start my summer internship. This trip home was impromptu but seriously needed. Before I started college last year, I seemed to have it all figured out. I was confident and happy and ready to take on the world. Where had that Emily gone? Because this Emily was sad, defeated and overall, beaten up. But if I was going to find that girl again, it was here, at home.

  Sitting there, alone, I had an idea; a possible solution to the search for me. It was simple, of course. I needed to be alone. (I cringed at the thought, but pushed it further.) I always made my best decisions and was most productive when I wasn’t “with” someone. And I knew there was a way to be alone and happy, too. I had done it before. I ran my fingers through my hair. It was possible I might find my old self before I had to leave. It was possible.

  Rejuvenated, I grabbed a handful of rocks, jumped off the tree trunk and waded into the shallow river. The stones were smooth and hot in my palm. I remembered coming here with my brothers and counting as we skipped them across the surface of the water. There was a science to the shape, size and angle of the throw. I wasn’t the best by far, but I counted four skips after the rock left my hand. Kneeling and grabbing another handful, I heard some rustling in the bushes along the trail. Someone was coming. I stood up and froze for a second waiting to see who it was.

  “Hey! Your mom said you went for a drive. I had a feeling you’d be here.”

  “Jessica.” I opened my arms and wrapped them around my best friend as she joined me. She pulled back, resting her hands on my shoulders.

  “How long have you been in town? I didn’t know you were coming home.”

  I hugged her again, dropping the rocks and wiping my hands on my shorts. “I didn’t know either. I had to get out of there for a little while. I hopped in my car yesterday and was here by evening.” Jessica waited for me to go on. “I was planning to call but…”

  “I know, I know. How are you doing?” She tilted her head. I could hear the concern in her voice.

  “Let’s see, I unexpectedly left LA and drove almost nine hours for no apparent reason. I’m terrific!” Heavy sarcasm on my part.

  “Oh, you have good reason. I don’t know how you stand that place.” Jessica never hid her d
istaste for city living. The phrase “born on a farm” was true for her, and although she didn’t like the city, she fit into any situation seamlessly and handled herself with the grace and poise of someone with far more experience. She was perfectly capable of living in the city but chose not to. It was great to be with her. We sat on the riverbank with our legs drawn in staring out and watching the water pass by.

  “So tell me about it.” She knew what happened with Graham but now she wanted to know about my attempt at healing. My reason for coming home. Part of me didn’t want to talk about it, but I knew what I needed, and that was my friend.

  “I just feel lost. I’m trying to move on. I know it’s important, but everything in my body aches for him. I hate it.” I rested my head against my knees, angry, too angry even to cry. Jessica lifted my hair, dropping it to the other side of my neck so she could see my face.

  “I know. You’ll get past this. It’s just going to take some time. He’s not worth it Emily, you know that. What he did to you was wrong and you know you deserve better. ” Graham had destroyed what we had and pieces of me right along with it. I knew it was possible to come back from this, I just didn’t know how. I paused for a second. One thing Jessica said was true and I knew it: I did deserve better and it wasn’t Graham who made me realize it. It was Christian. Right here a year ago. Christian, my first love, the one who taught me so much about myself. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t know what I deserved. My problem was that I’d forgotten.

  “What you need is a distraction,” Jessica said, with a whole new enthusiasm. “We should go into town tonight.” She paused. “How long can you stay?”

  “I have to be back on Monday to start my internship.” I dropped some hot sand across my toes. A memory flashed. The hot sand, this place…Christian. Just when I was sure those feelings were long gone they tried to resurface. I let my mind wander to his face. His hand on my cheek. Our kiss.

  “OK, let’s make some plans. Emily? You in there?” She leaned down to make eye contact with me.

  “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking.”

  “Now, none of that. We’ve got to get you into a new zone and out of this icky Graham place.” She sort of picked at the air around me when she said it. Little did she know, but I wasn’t thinking about Graham.

  TWO

  The Distraction

  We made plans to meet later that evening. I promised my mom I would be home for dinner, at least, considering I hadn’t made it home the Christmas before. Sitting at the table with her and my little brother, Hunter, was so comforting. Just being in our little farmhouse at the round oak table with mismatched chairs spoke volumes about my upbringing.

  I slipped right into my at-home lifestyle. There was history here. Signs of wear and age, a genuine quality that touched everything. Southern California seemed so new compared to home. The apartments and strip malls had fresh paint and perfect concrete sidewalks everywhere. There was only one sidewalk in Two Rivers and it was on a quarter mile stretch of road called Main Street. And the pace. I could almost feel the earth’s rotation slow whenever I crossed the Bay Bridge and headed north.

  I leaned back in my chair as Mom gingerly cut her steak, taking slow bites. I sipped my ice water.

  "I can't wait for you to see the new vineyard. It's beautiful." She reached across and pulled my brother's milk out of spilling distance. He looked up, annoyed.

  I took another bite, chewing it slowly so I didn’t finish my dinner before her. "So, what about you, Hunter? The seventh grade, huh?"

  "Yeah. I can't wait to pick my electives. I think I'm going to take a music class.” He pulled his milk glass back beside his plate forcefully.

  I held my glass, smiling into it to hide how much I was enjoying our meal together. I could feel myself breathe again. I knew that coming home was the right decision.

  ***

  Jessica picked me up around eight o’clock. We looked like twins in our little skirts and spaghetti-strap tops. I hopped in her car, wondering for a minute what we’d do tonight. There weren’t a ton of options, but enough that I wondered.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I knew she’d have one. That was the thing about Jessica. She said she was going to distract me and I knew she would.

  “I thought we’d go to the Brewery.” She smiled, mostly to herself.

  “Really? That’s an awesome idea.” The Brewery was a couple of towns away, but only about a thirty minute drive. Sadly, we weren’t old enough to sample the beer, but it was always a great place to hang out since they served non-alcoholic drinks and pub grub. I hadn’t thought about going there, but it was an excellent idea.

  “Shayla and Doug will be there, and some of the old gang.” She looked pleased as punch with herself for organizing this get-together at the last minute.

  “Great. It will be nice to see everyone.” And I truly meant it.

  Jessica attended college in Washington State, but made it home for every break and holiday. She kept in closer touch with our old friends than I did, and about now I was glad for that. When we drove up, Doug’s car was there, but no others I recognized. I had a feeling this was going to be a fun evening: Shayla was always a blast and I’d missed her energy. Walking through the door was like landing in another universe. Outside was quiet and dark; warm for an early summer evening. Inside it was packed. And I point this out because it’s unusual for any place to be packed around here. It was bright and loud and buzzing with people. The Brewery’s entire west side was one long bar with high tables next to it, and TVs and darts in the back. The other side was the restaurant, opening on the bar but partitioned a little. The conversations spilled over from one section to the next; words mixed with laughter. Smoke that didn’t realize it was supposed to stay in a certain area floated over our heads, blending with the smells of food and perfume.

  I spotted Shayla almost immediately. I’d know her squeal anywhere. She pushed her chair back and its loud scrape against the dark wood floors paled in comparison. She sidestepped a group we didn’t know and wrapped me in a big hug. She was so excited she almost vibrated. I knew several people at the table, of course, but about a half-dozen were new to me. Shayla made the introductions while Jessica faded into the background as one often did around Shayla. I hugged all my old classmates, amazed at how just a year had changed them. Some of the guys had new facial hair…then there was the whole “freshman fifteen.” The rule that your freshman year of college you either lose or gain fifteen pounds from the change in routine. Luckily, my weight doesn’t fluctuate much. Shayla made her way around the table and rested her hand on the shoulder of a guy I didn’t recognize.

  “Emily, this is Scott.” I extended my hand to greet him.

  “Hi.” I kept it short.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Emily.” He stood up and took my hand giving it a firm but not too firm shake. I saw Shayla and Jessica exchange a quick glance. Oh, so this was the distraction Jessica was talking about. Sometimes I’m a little slow, but I eventually catch on.

  I sat in the only empty chair, which just happened to be next to Scott. As we talked about the usual getting-to-know-each-other stuff, I checked him out. I mean, why not? He was a nice looking guy, tall with dark hair and really intense green eyes. My girls knew I was a sucker for pretty eyes. During our conversation I learned that he was from around here. He was a friend of Doug’s, and going to college in the Bay Area. I should’ve guessed: his style was obviously not local. Local guys were still sporting the crisp Le Tigre polos with raised collars in bright colors. Shoulder pads were a girl’s best friend, and big hair was everywhere. Scott’s jeans were ripped on the thigh just slightly, his tee shirt was faded and his hair was a little longer than I usually saw on guys around here. And kind of messy. I’d overheard them talking about following a band from Seattle and they tossed around the word “grunge.” That was new, but intriguing. I liked him immediately. I don’t know if the feeling was mutual or if he was just being nice and frankly, I didn’t care. It was
just nice to have a light conversation with a side order of flirtatious glances.

  We decided to order a bunch of appetizers and split them. After I sampled just about everything, Scott leaned in and asked me if I wanted to play darts. Terrible as I am at darts, it’s still fun. We grabbed our drinks and walked from the restaurant to the bar side through the crowd. I trailed behind Scott trying to make a path. He waited for me to catch up, then reached for my hand. It was strange having another man hold my hand, even in the most casual situations. Once I saw we were getting through the crowd, I let go. He looked back but didn’t seem to be bothered. He suggested we do a little warm up and shoot for the bulls-eye. I knew there was no way I’d actually hit it, but decided not to let that stop me.

  “Emily, here, you go first.” He handed me several darts and moved back setting his drink on the wall ledge and propping himself against the wall. I found myself giggling that he would position himself far away from any danger to getting stuck by a dart. My laughter echoed in my ears and I realized I hadn’t laughed in weeks. Scott flashed me a brilliant smile in response.

  “What?” He asked shrugging his shoulders.

  “I was just thinking, it was wise of you to back up.”

  “Really, I’ll keep that in mind.” He picked up his drink. I turned around, facing the dartboard for a serious attempt to actually hit it. I threw the first one and willed it in the direction of the board. The first one was a bulls-eye, which completely surprised me. I jumped up clapping my hands like a foolish cheerleader. When I whipped around to show Scott, he was right behind me.

  “Whoa! I thought you weren’t good at this.” He held on to the top of each of my arms then hugged me. He was just trying to ride out my happiness over the bulls-eye, I know, but I went rigid. He let go almost immediately, and I tried to take the attention away from the obvious by laughing again and getting ready to throw my next dart. He backed up again but not as far and watched me throw the rest. They landed on the dartboard but none were bulls-eyes, which was fine. I think I got lucky with the first one.