by DC Renee
Coming to the wedding, getting everyone off my back, that was one thing. My mom meeting my fake boyfriend way ahead of schedule was a completely different thing, which was why I proceeded to kick him out.
I knew he didn’t understand my dilemma, but he obliged and headed out.
And I scrambled to put everything away.
But now that I was in the shower, my mind drifted back to the feel of Carter’s arms around me.
But if I were to tell someone
The secrets I hold dear
It would be you
The one I most fear
Because you could tear my world apart
With your charming smile
And never even realize
“You’re singing!” My mom’s cry cut off my words, and I startled in my shower.
“Jesus, Mom, knock next time,” I hissed at her, trying to cover up my body. It was pointless, and besides, she was my mom. I didn’t have anything to hide from her, but it was an instinctual reaction. If she noticed, she didn’t take offense.
“I haven’t heard you sing in so long, Em.” She clasped her hands together as if she was praying. I might have seen a tear trailing down her cheek, but I couldn’t be sure through the shower door.
“What are you doing in here?” I asked.
“You haven’t sung since you were a little girl,” she told me, not bothering to answer my question.
“I sing plenty, Mom. You just aren’t around to hear me.”
“Those were your words, weren’t they?” she continued her examination of me.
“Just something I heard on the radio. It got stuck in my head.” I brushed her off.
“You’re lying.” She spoke as I quickly finished my shower and grabbed a towel. “Oh, Em, you don’t know how happy that makes me.”
“Great, Mom. Give me a minute, okay?” I motioned for the door. She took the hint, but when I got to my room, she was waiting for me there.
“And you’ve been smiling lately,” she said as I started getting dressed for work.
“I smile all the time!” I cried.
“No, Em, you don’t. And besides, these are different. They’re not your pleasant smiles you give to clients and whatnot; they’re happy smiles.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Whose name?”
“There’s only one reason for a girl to be smiling and singing.”
Part of me wanted to fight her even though I knew it’d be pointless in the end. She always managed to get stuff out of me. Another part of me actually wanted to share my life with her. I didn’t have girlfriends, and Beth didn’t count. My mom was my best friend.
“It’s not what you think,” I told her.
“So there is a boy!” She clapped. “I knew it! I knew the right guy would be able to see past this ridiculous getup.”
“He’s a friend and nothing more. He doesn’t see anything other than what the rest of the world does.”
“But the rest of the world is blind!” she cried.
“No, they see what I allow them to see. He’s not attracted to me in the least, but we seem to get along. And, Dad, forgive me, but I like hanging out with him.”
“Em, honey. How many times do I have to tell you that your father would never have wanted you to shy away from living life? You can have fun, Em. You can have friends. Don’t feel guilty for that. And if this guy doesn’t see who you truly are, then he doesn’t deserve you. But I’m happy you finally have someone in your life other than me.”
“But Dad …” I trailed off as tears swelled in my eyes.
“No, Em, no talk about Dad today. He’s watching down on you and hating what you’ve done with your life. Now, tell me about this boy.”
And so I told her about him, but I left out the whole bet part. There were some things my mother shouldn’t know.
“He sounds like a wonderful guy, Em. And he’s trying so hard to be there for you. Are you sure there are no romantic feelings on his end?”
“‘Romantic feelings on his end?’” I repeated her and laughed. “No one says it like that, Mom. And I’m one-hundred percent sure he doesn’t like me like that. But that’s besides the point. I don’t know what to do about being his friend,” I told her.
“What’s there to figure out? He’s your friend; you’re his. It’s not like you walk up to a person and say ‘Hey, you are my friend from now on.’” She laughed. “It just happens over time. You realize this person is in your life, you like talking to them and hanging out with them, you can rely on them, and you’re happy they are in your life. The same thing happens with love but on a greater scale,” she said almost wistfully. I envied her at that moment. I knew that was stupid because I chose this path for my life. But I never really felt like it was a choice. There were actions and the resulting reactions. My life was the reaction to my dad’s death.
“But if you let people in, then you run the risk of watching them go,” I told her softly.
“Would you have rather your father hadn’t been in your life at all?” she countered.
I didn’t hesitate in my answer. “Never.”
“So sometimes letting people in is better than never having them in the first place. And, Em, I’m pretty sure you’ve already let him in. And if you haven’t, it sounds like he’s hell-bent on breaking through. You don’t stand a chance. So just go with it. I promise you don’t have anything to feel guilty about.”
“Easier said than done,” I responded. “Thanks, Mom. I know you don’t always feel it, but I love you.”
“I love you too, Em. I love you so much it hurts. That’s why my heart breaks for you. But I have a feeling my heart will be just fine from now on.”
“I hope mine is too,” I whispered. And we both knew just how important those words were for me. Because my heart hadn’t been okay since the day I had caused my father’s death. And a heart could only take so much pain. There was a split second where I thought that maybe it was time I listened to my mom and embraced Carter and even Beth. Maybe it was time I let myself have friends. But those thoughts were fleeting, overrun by years of guilt, years of self-loathing, and years of doing everything I could to steer clear of people. I knew I couldn’t steer clear of Carter, but that didn’t mean I should open my arms and welcome him. No, I was sticking to my guns. I just wasn’t sure how well they’d hold up.
Fourteen
Carter
My friends told me they wanted to hang out with Emerson. Let me reiterate, my friends specifically asked me to bring my “freaky fun girlfriend.” Yes, Lance had used those words.
“What?” he’d asked over the phone. “She is a freak, but she’s fun to be around, and she’s your temporary girlfriend, so I combined it all.”
“She’s not a freak, and she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Whatever, man. We’re going to the bar tomorrow, and you’re bringing her. End of story.”
I wasn’t sure if it made me a hypocrite to be a bit ticked off that my friends had picked her because she looked the way she did and ended up liking her. I mean, didn’t I have the same reaction? I dreaded even going up to her, and look at me now. We were fucking friends, and I was getting all pissed off at my other friends on her behalf. Damn. I was turning into a chick.
“Why do I dread it every time you call me?” Emerson asked when I dialed her.
“You mean why do you get so overjoyed every time I call?” I asked with a smile on my lips.
“Sure, C. That’s exactly the emotion I get when I hear your voice,” she said with sarcasm, to which I chuckled.
“See, I knew it.”
“Okay, okay, enough with the chitchat. I gotta run in about five minutes.”
“Why?” I asked, half curious, half annoyed.
“Uh, because I work, Carter. Unlike some people, apparently, who spend all day long on the internet trying to find pictures to beat mine.”
“Please
, my pictures always beat yours. And I don’t spend hours on the internet.” We sounded like a pair of preteens.
“Uh-huh, sure. Anyway, I’m almost to one of my customers, so that’s why I only have a couple of minutes. What’s up? What do you need now?”
“Which customer?” I asked, wondering what kind of places she distributed to.
“And now, you only have three minutes. This bar called Luke’s.”
“Oh yeah, on Fifth and Vine, right?”
“Yep. I’m turning onto Fifth already, so what can I do for … oh, shit.” She cut off her own sentence with her loud cursing.
“Em? Em, what happened? You okay?” I asked, starting to panic when she continued to rattle off a string of cuss words. “Em, you there? What the fuck? You okay?” I yelled into the phone.
“Yeah, yeah, C, no yelling in my ear. My tire blew out.”
“Are you okay?” I asked for what seemed like the fiftieth time, my voice giving away my worry.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I wasn’t going fast. It just surprised me, but I managed to pull off to the side of the road. I’m okay, though. Thanks for asking,” she said to me. And then she added more to herself than to me, “Shit. Only a few minutes from Luke’s, and now, I’m going to have to wait for a tow truck.”
“I’m on my way.”
“What?” she asked louder than she probably intended to.
“See you soon. Bye, Em,” I said and hung up before she could protest. I didn’t know her exact location, but I could figure it out from what she had said before.
I grabbed my keys and ran out of the building, telling the admin that I had to run out to help a friend if anyone was looking for me. It took me about ten minutes to get to the general area where she was and another five to find her, but I did.
She stood leaning on her car, arms crossed, and a scowl on her lips.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when I walked over to her.
“I told you I was coming.”
“I could barely hear what you said before you threw the phone down. I wasn’t even sure I heard right.”
“You did. And I’m here.”
“But why? I called AAA.”
“Because you needed me,” I told her with a shrug. When I had heard her scream, “Oh shit,” my heart had dropped. I thought something serious had happened, and then I felt completely relieved when I heard she was physically all right. But that didn’t mean she was emotionally okay. A tire blowout could have been scary; the fact that she had to be late to her appointment was probably frustrating, and waiting by yourself for AAA to come was beyond boring. That situation called for company, especially someone who could help the situation move along faster.
She opened her mouth and closed it twice, probably deciding on how to respond and not finding a suitable comeback. And all the while, she stared at me as if I was crazed.
“I don’t get it,” she finally said softly, and for the first time, I felt bad for her. I hadn’t until that moment. I mean I thought she was missing a ton of experiences, but I hadn’t actually felt pity. But now, I did.
“What’s to get, Em? You’re in a bind, and I can help. That’s what friends do for each other. Now, are you going to help me change your flat or what?”
“You can change a tire?” she asked incredulously.
“Do I look like a man to you?”
I didn’t miss the way her eyes scanned me up and down, and I didn’t hide the smug smirk I was sporting. Still had it. Even standoffish Em checked me out. And there I was talking like a chick again.
“Eh, debatable.” She shrugged and tried hard to keep from smiling, but I saw it.
“Oh, Em, I’m all man,” I said as I raised an eyebrow for effect.
“Fine, fine, perv, what does that have to do with changing a tire?”
“It’s like a rite of passage. And now, I’m going to teach you, so if you’re ever in a situation where I or someone else can’t help, you’ll be okay.”
We spent the next fifteen minutes changing her tire. She learned quickly, which wasn’t surprising. I already knew she was smart.
“Okay, so now you’re only about half an hour late to Luke’s. And AAA still isn’t here.”
“That was … that was really nice of you, C. I don’t know any other person who would drop whatever they were doing and come to my rescue.” If she hadn’t sounded so vulnerable, I would have enjoyed feeling like some kind of hero in her book.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told her, not wanting to make her feel bad about the situation. “After all, you came to my aid when you thought I had some emergency, if you recall.”
“When you tricked me?” she asked.
“You say trick. I say just a natural steppingstone to getting my way.”
“You make me like you one minute and hate you the next,” she responded, but her tone was light.
“So you admit you like me?” I smirked.
“Only you would find the one nice thing in that sentence and stick to it.”
“I know, I know. It’s a good quality, and you’re jealous, but stick with me, Em, and I’ll show you the ropes.”
“Okay, wise guy, I should get going. And you probably need to get back to work. But really, thank you. I mean it. Just … thanks.”
“Anytime, Em, anytime.” And I meant it.
Fifteen
Emerson
I had never punched anyone before. You’d think with the number of times people have called me every nasty name in the book that I would have fought back at least once. But I didn’t because I had wanted it that way.
But now I had, and it hurt like a bitch. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t regret it for a second, and I truly enjoyed every minute of it, but I wasn’t as physically strong as I thought I was. Either that or the asshole had a face of stone. I wouldn’t be surprised; it would match his concrete heart if he even had one.
As I iced my wrist, I thought back to the events that led up to “the punch.”
Beth had been bugging me to hang out with her. But it seemed the more Carter insinuated himself into my life, the harder I tried to get away from them. I knew I couldn’t stop seeing Carter, but at least, I could keep Beth at arm’s length. I hadn’t stopped responding to her text messages and phone calls because I wasn’t heartless and I did like her. But hanging out was something I just wouldn’t allow myself to do.
It didn’t mean I didn’t care about her, and it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to stick up for her when the need arose.
I had been overseeing an alcohol shipment for one of our hotel clients. I usually didn’t work late nights, but it happened on occasion, like when schedules clashed or when hotels informed me they had new staff that forgot to check their supply and they had a wedding that weekend.
I was making it seem like I did all the driving when Don stayed back in the office, relaxing all day, but that wasn’t the case at all. He did his fair share of meeting with clients too, but even with my looks, once our contacts got to know me, they preferred to deal with me. They all pretty much said I was a “no bullshitter”—yes, that was a word—“but in a nice way.” I wasn’t sure what the hell that meant, but hey, I’d take it.
It had been a long day, so I was happy to finally be heading home after supervising a bunch of boys who thought I hadn’t heard every alcohol-related joke in the book, especially the ones relating to women.
“My girlfriend told me to go out and get something that makes her look sexy, so I got drunk.”
“You can consider yourself lucky in life if the cognac you drink is older than the woman you’re sleeping with.”
“Hey, hey, did you know that alcohol has female hormones? Because when I drink, I talk too much and don’t know how to drive.”
So funny. Not.
So as I headed through the lobby, I almost missed them. I wasn’t sure how I could have, considering the way they were sucking face in the middle of a hotel lobby like it was their own private suite. But hey, I had a l
ong day.
Now normally, I would have just glanced at them for kicks and turned away or, at the worst, cringe internally. Just because I didn’t do relationships, period, didn’t mean I was totally against public displays of affection. But this couple was really going at it.
I tried to bite my tongue, but, “Get a room,” slipped out accidentally.
“You’re just jealous, bitch,” the girl sneered after extricating herself from the guy’s clutches.
“Sure,” I said and rolled my eyes.
Then the guy turned. “Watch your mouth,” he started and then shut it quickly then opened it again while narrowing his eyes. “You,” he said at the same time as I did.
One minute, I was a few feet away from Matt, and the next, I was in his face. Well, my hand was in his face … in the form of a fist.
“What the fuck?” He cursed as he held his hand to his face, surprise overtaking his anger. The girl didn’t say a thing, but her eyes darted back and forth between him and me, shock clearly written across her face.
“No one messes with my friends and gets away with it,” I hissed and swung again, but he anticipated it this time and blocked me, grabbing my arm in the process. Even in my pissed-off state, it didn’t go unnoticed that I had used the word “friend.”
“You’re lucky I don’t hit girls,” he said as he held my arm a little too painfully. “But you’d better watch your fucking mouth. You even think about saying anything to Beth, and I might change my mind about hitting chicks, if you’re even a chick.” He snorted, obviously thinking he was so clever with his dig at my appearance.
“We don’t take kindly to guys threatening women,” said Chris from behind me. He was one of the guys I had listened to just minutes ago making stupid alcohol jokes. I realized a crowd of people had gathered to watch us. And behind Chris were the other guys who had been unloading the alcohol. They looked none-too-pleased with Matt. “I suggest you let her go.” He said it, but it didn’t sound like a suggestion. It was a threat, and I didn’t bother hiding my smug smirk. And I no longer thought the guys were just a bunch of stupid boys.
Matt assessed the situation, and he must have realized he was clearly not going to win this one. He let go of my arm with a shove. “Remember, bitch, keep your mouth shut,” he hissed quietly so only I could hear. If he thought I was afraid of him, he had another thing coming.