Cherry Red Summer (Emely and Elyas Book 1)

by Bartsch, Carina

  If she earned a euro every time she asked a silly question, Eva would have to rent a warehouse to store all her cash. Even if I had been asleep, I certainly wouldn’t be now that she had slammed the door.

  “No,” I mumbled. “This stupid book has done me in. What are the symptoms of brain death again?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  Could have fooled me . . .

  I opened my eyes when I felt the bed sag. She was sitting next to me, browsing through the brain-deadening book. Her black hair was pulled up into a bun.

  “Wow, even the title is seriously over my head.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “And the title is nothing compared to what’s inside.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll never understand why you’re willingly doing this to yourself.”

  I had long ago given up trying to explain it to her. Eva was a sophomore biology major, and she couldn’t appreciate anything about my majoring in German literature. But to me, books were one of the most precious treasures on earth—words strung together artfully and melodiously, transforming into images. White expanses adorned with little black symbols made the universe grander, entrancing human beings and making them forget everything around them.

  Literature was cloaked in magical enchantments that held me captive with their power.

  Eva smiled and looked around the room, an exaggerated look of innocence on her face. When she started saying “So . . . Emely . . . ,” I knew exactly what time it was.

  “You need the room,” I finished.

  She flashed me a hopeful smile.

  “How long?”

  “A couple of hours, maybe?”

  Ugh, I thought, sighing to myself. Oh well, Alex was probably already waiting for me, and there wasn’t much point in trying to get any more studying done right now, anyway.

  “Fine by me,” I said, struggling clumsily to get off the bed. “But not too long. I’ve still got to finish reading that book.”

  “You’re the best!” Eva said.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. Eva and Nicolas had been dating for a year and a half, and it was kind of alarming what a . . . rewarding sex life they still had. Wasn’t all that supposed to stop at some point?

  But how would I know? The longest of my grand total of three relationships had lasted eight months and was—

  Whatever. Better not to talk about it.

  I dashed into the bathroom to freshen up, then grabbed my shoulder bag, and left the apartment with a “Say hi to Nicolas for me.”

  I put in my iPod earbuds and went to the bus stop to wait in the twilight. As usual, the bus arrived a few minutes late. I climbed on, and exited ten minutes later near Alex’s building. Right when I was about to press the buzzer at the main entrance, another resident came out and held the door for me. I thanked her, walked in, and looked up the stairs sullenly, dreading having to climb them yet again.

  Five freaking flights. It made me want to puke. Whining under my breath, I slowly and steadily slogged my way up landing after landing for what seemed like an eternity. What were those contraptions called that old people used to go upstairs? Stair lifts? That’s exactly what they should install here. I giggled and promised myself to get around to doing something about my fitness level. But since I knew myself better than anyone, I also knew that “get around to” was a fairly elastic expression.

  When I finally reached the last floor, I caught my breath for a couple of minutes before ringing the doorbell. It wasn’t long before Elyas opened the door for me. Even though he had behaved more or less normally during my past few visits and had largely stayed out of my way, it was still not exactly thrilling to see him.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hey—Emely was the name, right?” He smiled and winked.

  “You’re a regular comedian,” I muttered. “Will you let me in now? Or is there more to your stand-up routine?”

  He smiled, cocked his head slightly, and pretended to give some serious thought to whether to let me in.

  God, what a freaking jerk!

  “OK, if you insist.” He shrugged and stood back to let me in.

  Attaboy.

  He closed the door behind me and headed toward the couch, where he had evidently been before being roused by my ringing. Without giving him a second glance, I headed toward Alex’s room.

  “Where are you going?”

  I frowned and turned to look at him. He was still sitting on the couch with his back to me.

  “To see Alex.”

  “Oh, right. Alex isn’t home.”

  I stared at his back and felt my frowning muscles cramp. Was he making fun of me?

  To get to the bottom of the matter, I went to Alex’s door, pushed down on the handle, and found that her room was pitch dark inside. I flipped on the light to confirm my fear.

  This could not be true. That lousy little—

  My eyes narrowed into thin slits as a soft growl escaped my throat. I stomped back into the living room, planted myself in front of the couch, and crossed my arms over my chest. The grin on Elyas’s face spoke volumes, and the more clearly I saw that he had pulled one over on me, the stupider I felt.

  “Very funny! You could have mentioned she wasn’t home when you answered the door!” He could hardly hold back his laughter.

  “You were the one in such a hurry to come in,” he said, playing innocent. I growled again.

  “You really think you’re all that, huh?” I said. Apparently he found the expression on my face amusing, only irritating me more.

  “Oh, come on,” he said, finally relenting. “First of all, it was, in fact, funny. Second, Alex will be back any minute now. And third, you should take a seat on the couch to wait instead of standing around like an idiot.”

  I didn’t like the thought of sitting on the couch with him one bit. I considered waiting for Alex in her room, but that would make me seem like a little girl in a huff.

  “I won’t bite,” he said.

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but what could happen? At most he would get on my nerves, and that would happen no matter how much space there was between us. I mean, geez, I had just turned twenty-three; I should be able to sit next to someone for five minutes even if I couldn’t stand him. Although the incidents of the past had left a bitter aftertaste, they’d happened a long time ago. And the TV was on, so I wouldn’t actually have to talk with him.

  I finally overcame my reservations and sat down, my arms crossed. But I hadn’t completely lost my mind, so I did leave a little space between us.

  “Attagirl,” he said. “And it was funny.”

  I groaned loudly. Yes, dammit, it was semifunny. I was just irritated that I had been stupid enough to fall for it.

  “Maybe a little,” I conceded.

  A wide smile formed on his face, and he repositioned himself to face me.

  Oh no. If there was one thing I hated, it was being forced into small talk. Especially with him. As I watched the TV, I could see from the corner of my eye that he was watching me. It was extremely unpleasant, for reasons I couldn’t explain.

  “What’s the movie about?” I asked quickly, before he could pick a topic.

  “No idea,” he said. “The second I sat down to watch it, the doorbell rang.”

  “Bad luck, huh?” I said, continuing to stare at the screen.

  My strategy of watching the screen worked splendidly for several minutes, but that changed abruptly when I felt his arm land behind me on the back of the couch. He wasn’t actually touching me, but I still found his behavior confusing.

  The longer I brooded about it, the pushier I found it. That’s why I casually leaned back, feigning relaxation, to see if he would really try anything. Wouldn’t you know, I had hardly uncrossed my arms when he nonchalantly slid closer to me.

  Un-freaking-bel
ievable! He was coming on to me!

  “You know, you’re really pretty, Emely,” he breathed.

  He can’t be serious. I was going to have to pull myself together to keep from bursting out laughing. I had thought even Elyas would have more style than this.

  OK, I thought. Let’s play along. “You think so?” I whispered back, turning my head toward him. I gazed into his eyes.

  “Very much so,” he whispered, placing his hand on my thigh.

  I looked down at my lap. Well, that was going a bit far for me. Elyas bent forward, moving his face toward mine. I slowly moved my face toward his, too, but evaded his mouth so I could whisper softly in his ear.

  “Elyas.”

  “Mmm,” he said.

  “You play piano and you’re studying medicine, right?” I took a breath, taking great pains to sound passably sensual.

  “Mmm,” he said again, sliding his hand farther up my thigh.

  “That means your fingers are really important to you, right?”

  “Huh?” His voice now sounded irritated.

  “Then, if you don’t want me to break any of them, I would move that hand if I were you.”

  Elyas pulled back and stared wide-eyed at me. Finally he exhaled. “I should have known that was too easy.” He sounded embarrassed.

  I glared at him, but he didn’t seem to care. He just smiled seductively at me, raised an eyebrow, and shrugged. “Hey, it was worth a shot.”

  “Elyas!” I hissed.

  “What?”

  I glared. Your hand is still on my thigh.

  “Oh,” he said, grinning, and removed his hand. I hoped he choked to death on his smug smile.

  “God, you must really think you’re totally irresistible. You tell me I’m pretty, and then you assume I’ll just fall head-over-heels in love with you, just like that?” I stared at him. “That is so pathetic, Elyas. Even for you!”

  “Who said anything about falling in love?” he asked. “A little fun would be plenty.”

  I snorted instead of laying out for him what I thought of his innuendo. “Elyas, even if you were the last guy on earth—you can just forget it.”

  “Oh yeah?” He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Might I remind your majesty that you and I have kissed before? How was that different?”

  “So you do still remember that, if not my name.” It was still weird he hadn’t recognized me when we first saw each other again.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he said, unfazed and ignoring my comment.

  “Well, if you are in such desperate need of an answer,” I said. “First, I was young and dumb. Second, I deeply regret it, and third, that was years and years ago and doesn’t count anymore.” I noticed he continued to smile even when his eyes briefly turned icy—a change that unnerved me until the ice thawed.

  “You think I believe one word of that?” He scoffed. “You’re just putting on a show. Believe me, I know a few girls like you.”

  “You know ‘a few girls like me’? Now I’m curious. Please, let’s hear your flood of undoubtedly helpful insight.” I looked at him and waited for a response.

  “I’d love to,” he said, pulling himself together before allowing me a peek inside his mind.

  “You are neither as innocent nor as self-confident as you act. You may be quick-witted, but ultimately, deep down inside, you’re just a helpless little girl. You’re one of those girls who pretend to be intellectual and well-read, but all you really want to hear is how pretty you are.

  “Plus,” he continued, “your idea of being ‘well-read’ is limited to Harry Potter books, volumes one through twenty-seven or whatever.” He paused for a second to smile. “Deep in your heart all you want is someone to tell you what you want to hear. Someone who will build up the self-confidence you lack and who you can brag about to your girlfriends.”

  I was flabbergasted. His mindless blabber skills were way better than I expected.

  “Wow, Elyas,” I said with a smile but even more loathing than before. “Thank you so very much for that informative analysis of my psychological makeup. Would you like to hear my opinion of you, then?”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Well,” I said, making the arrogant sigh that he had made. “You’re a jerk with a terrible understanding of human nature.”

  He raised one eyebrow but his smile didn’t waver. I didn’t expect any of his thinking processes to occur outside his pants, so I remained skeptical that even one syllable of what I’d hurled at him would register. Sure enough, he didn’t say anything.

  I had never felt so relieved to hear the sound of a door opening as I was at that moment. Alex walked into the room, holding a shopping bag. She looked dumbfounded to find me sitting next to Elyas. “You’re here already,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said. “And unless you want to be an only child, we’d probably better head to your room now.” I didn’t give Elyas another look.

  CHAPTER 3

  WHO THE HELL IS LUCA?

  Chaos reigned over my desk. Books, yellow sticky notes, crumpled paper, and various cables and cords were scattered all over the top. The mess was slowly growing from stacks into small towers. The only free space was right in the middle, a narrow strip I had cleared for my laptop, using the bulldozer technique. I was sitting on my old desk chair in front of this canyon, my fingers on the keyboard.

  The chaos on my desk was nothing, however, compared with the disturbance on my bed. That was five feet tall, lying stomach-down with its feet dangling over the edge of the mattress, distracting me from my critical analysis of a text, due on Monday.

  “You know, Emely,” Alex said, “I love my brother more than anything, but I’ve got to admit, he really can be a jerk sometimes.”

  I sighed. It wasn’t the easiest thing, concentrating on two things at once, so I was listening to my best friend with only one ear—much to her chagrin.

  “It’s not that he can be; it’s that he is,” I said, correcting her without looking up from my computer.

  “I have no idea why he acts that way. He’s not like that at all, at least not always. When he’s with me, he’s different. In fact, whether you believe it or not, he can be really sweet sometimes.”

  I decided not to believe it, because that was the only realistic alternative for me. Besides, Alex might have accidentally eaten some toxic mushrooms today and could be hallucinating. You never knew.

  “He probably just wants to make a good impression on your family,” I said. This topic didn’t interest me at all. Now, where was I? Oh yeah. In this novel, the author is trying to express . . . I brooded over what I wanted to say and finally decided the author could have expressed himself less like an idiot.

  “Maybe you two just need to get to know each other a little better,” Alex suggested—since she was crazy.

  “Oh, sure,” I said. “That’s totally realistic. And while I’m at it, I think I’ll start an online petition for Xavier Naidoo to sing some duets with Nena.” I made a disgusted face. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was Xavier Naidoo, much less Xavier Naidoo singing a duet with Nena. It was bad enough seeing them as coaches on The Voice of Germany. Just the idea—I shuddered. At least the thought distracted Alex, so I could focus on something more important again. Just as I came up with a brilliant way to express the next point in my paper, Alex started talking again.

  “Blah blah blah,” she said—or at least, that’s what I heard. I was way too busy trying to type my amazing insight before it was lost. “Mmm,” I mumbled as though I were listening.

  “Blah blah blah, blah blah blah.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Blah blah blah blah.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Blah blah?” she suddenly asked much more loudly, which made it dramatically harder to tune her out.

  “Are you even listen
ing to me?”

  “Of course,” I said, returning my full attention to my laptop.

  “No you’re not!”

  I rolled my eyes. It would have been easier to work with a jackhammer in the room than Alex.

  “Do you remember our agreement?” I asked her. “If you came over, you would sit on the bed and be quiet!”

  “Yeah . . . sorry . . . ,” Alex mumbled.

  “Thank you!” I replied, trying to focus on my work yet again. Not for long, since Alex only managed to keep her trap shut for three minutes, to the second. I moaned to myself and fantasized about throwing her out the window. Yes, she was my best friend, but that didn’t mean I didn’t think of murdering her from time to time.

  “But it’s good, you know? It’s not the worst thing if he keeps banging his head against the wall.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said without fully digesting what she was saying. That abruptly changed with her next sentence.

  “He’s banging his head against the wall with you, right?”

  “What kind of a question is that, Alex?” I snarled.

  “OK, OK. I just wanted to make sure,” she said, surprised at my vehement reaction. At the same time, she seemed glad I was now paying attention to her again, and she promptly leveraged this to explain herself. “I was just thinking—I mean, I get it. If he weren’t my brother, I’m sure I would have dug my claws into him long ago.” She grinned.

  “He’s all yours,” I said. “I’m sure the two of you would have beautiful, if genetically defective, children. But believe me when I say that you don’t need to worry about me in the least!” I stopped talking, took a deep breath, and tried to get back to my paper.

  It wasn’t long before I was interrupted by the next “blah blah blah.” When Alex started giggling, I finally looked up.