Cherry Red Summer (Emely and Elyas Book 1)

by Bartsch, Carina

  “Elyas was the guy on the news who drove his car into that café?”

  “Uh, no,” she said, giggling. “Much better, actually!” Now I was really excited, because it would be hard to top her brother’s demise.

  “Today is the day you finally get to wear my top,” she sang.

  Though Alex had been studying fashion design for only five weeks, she had recently designed her first top. Alex could be so sweet. Keeping a promise she had made, she had dedicated her first piece to me, and I had to admit I was pleasantly surprised by it. It was a little daring for my tastes, but it still fell within tolerable limits.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, frowning because she sounded way more upbeat than she should have been.

  “Now please don’t reflexively say no, but hear me out, OK?” she said.

  I hated it when she started with “Now please don’t reflexively say no.” That was a major red flag. She was going to suggest something I wouldn’t want to do but would give in on because she would keep pestering me until I did.

  “Spit it out, then,” I said with a sigh.

  “OK, pay attention. I told you about Sebastian, right?”

  “Sebastian?”

  “Elyas’s friend,” she reminded me, impatiently.

  Oh, right. His hot friend who was into Alex, though she had never said more than hello or goodbye to him. And yet somehow she was in love with his “personality.”

  “Yeah, I remember. I just didn’t remember his name,” I said.

  “We-e-ll,” she started, drawing out the word. “I happened to overhear Elyas and him talking earlier, and they’re planning to go out to a club tonight. I sort of asked if I could come along, so then it occurred to me that if you came with me . . . We’re going to own that dance floor tonight!”

  I did my best to laugh at her little joke, but then gave her a firm no.

  “Emely-y-y,” she whined. “Please, please, pretty please! I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely necessary! I totally get that you are not into spending an evening out with my brother, but please! I won’t know anyone there, and I really want your opinion on Sebastian. So please, please, pretty please! It would be a perfect opportunity for you to strike up a conversation with him.” Even over the phone she sounded as though she were on her knees, begging. I hated when she played the pity card like this.

  “God, Alex,” I grumbled.

  “Please, please! What am I supposed to do without you there?”

  “It’s so underhanded the way you go directly for my conscience,” I moaned. “Your mouth is big enough I’m sure you can manage on your own. Plus, it’s not like I’m going to be much help since you’re going to have to talk to him yourself eventually.”

  “No! You’d be a ton of help. You’d be there with me, and that alone would be a huge help!”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “Emely,” she started again, “I can’t bring myself to go out alone. I’d feel way too lame. And you do want me to land a good guy, right? Someone I’d be happy with? Please! I’ll protect you from my brother, too.”

  I grimaced and let loose a snarl.

  “Is that a yes?” she squeaked.

  How the hell did her groveling and whining evaporate, just like that?

  “No, that was not a yes. I’ll only think ab—”

  “You’re the best, Emely!” she interrupted. “We’ll pick you up in an hour at the main entrance to campus, OK?”

  “Alex, I don’t have any—” I said, starting to protest.

  “I knew I could count on you. I’ll totally make it up to you. You’re the best friend anyone could wish for, did you know that? You can’t believe how grateful I am and what a huge help this is!” She chattered on without periods or commas, leaving me no opportunity to say anything, though I was standing there, mouth agape.

  Alex knew how to make me feel just guilty enough to always say yes. I hated her for it. When she finally paused for breath, I said, “Alex, I swear to God, you so owe me!”

  “Anything, Emely! Just name it! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re so awesome!”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “See you in an hour,” she reminded me. “And wear the top!”

  “We’ll see.”

  “No, not ‘we’ll see.’ Definitely wear it! Thanks, baby. I’ll see you in a bit!”

  “Bye,” I snarled into the phone and hung up.

  How did she always force me into doing things I didn’t want to do? And why did I freaking let her do it to me again and again? I always asked myself that question, and I never came up with an answer. Today was no exception.

  A night on the town with Elyas, for Pete’s sake. Should I just kill myself now, or wait until afterward? It was a tough decision.

  I had already run into him twice since the embarrassing fainting incident the previous week. He hadn’t made any annoying comments about it yet, but that didn’t mean he was going to spare me.

  And why did they have to be going to a club, anyway? What was wrong with a bar?

  As I realized what I had gotten myself into, I sighed in frustration. And I realized I barely had enough time to get ready, since I was now going to have to shave my legs.

  I grumbled my way to the shower, and forty-five minutes later—I’m a long showerer—I finally left the bathroom and started browsing through my closet for something to wear. I found Alex’s top, pulled it off the hanger, and considered whether I really wanted to wear it.

  It was made of a thin, black fabric with a wide band over the bust. Inside the band was a cord you could tighten so it would stay up without straps. The waistline also had a band in it, but without a cord because it was tailored perfectly to my hips. The fabric featured a discreet gray floral pattern. I liked it a lot.

  So even though I would never have bought it myself, I liked it. I wondered if I’d change my mind once I was out and about with it on. There was only one way to find out, so I pulled it on and studied myself in the mirror.

  I liked that it wasn’t skintight, unlike the clothes Alex usually tried to talk me into. At first, I was still afraid it might slide down, but once I adjusted the cord, it felt firm—“earthquake-proof,” as Alex said. Not having big boobs has its advantages from time to time. If I had D cups, the top definitely wouldn’t have worked so well.

  What I didn’t like in the mirror was how pale my skin was. My cleavage, my shoulders, and my arms—they all looked a shade too light. It was no wonder I was so ghostly looking. I spent most of my time in the library, after all, even when it was nice out. I had long ago realized I wasn’t the sort of person who would ever look like I’d just returned from the Caribbean, but tonight I wished I were. Then there was the issue of feeling naked up top, since I wasn’t used to showing so much skin.

  I decided to wear at least a little jacket over it. Out of habit I reached for my hoodie, but then thought better of it. I didn’t want to have to sleep with the bouncer just to get into the club, so instead I opted for a short black cardigan with a single-button at chest height.

  The second I added the jacket I liked my reflection much better. But there was always the risk of ruining the whole outfit if I picked the wrong slacks. I took out some dark-blue jeans that matched the top nicely and slid them on.

  I left my hair down, and since I practically never wore makeup, I didn’t bother putting any on now, either. Even if I had wanted to wear different shoes, I was stuck with sneakers because that was all I owned. Once I had them on, I checked to see if Luca had e-mailed. Sadly he hadn’t, and since it was close to my pickup time, I grabbed my purse and phone and left the building.

  It took only two minutes for the Mustang of my dreams to stop in front of me. I sighed.

  God, it looked even better in the twilight.

  Alex opened the passenger door and gave me a hug hello. “It�
��s so great you’re coming,” she squeaked as I gave her some serious stinkeye. It’s not like I was here voluntarily. But she just grinned.

  Alex looked great, as always, though I found her getup almost over-the-top. She wore some freaking-tight jeans and a dark-blue halter top, with her long curls cascading over her shoulders. She basically looked like an angel who was ready for some action.

  I kept expecting her to criticize my cardigan, but oddly that didn’t happen.

  “Wow, you look really good,” Alex said instead as she studied me. “The cardigan works great with that.”

  Now I was suspicious.

  “I can only concur with my sister,” Elyas chimed in from behind. He had opened the driver’s door and gotten out, watching us with his chin in his hand and his elbow on the roof of the car. His cinnamon-colored hair was a bit messed up, as I now knew it usually was, but his admittedly pretty eyes somehow seemed to glow, even in the falling darkness. He was wearing a black button-down shirt with a tailored fit and the collar open. To be honest, he looked pretty damned hot.

  Too bad he was such an ass.

  “That the cardigan looks good on me?” I pressed.

  “No,” he said, smiling. “That you look great, of course.”

  I rolled my eyes but noticed he was totally checking me out. Then that devilish grin reappeared on his lips.

  “It makes your boobs look bigger somehow,” he said.

  Jerk! I silently cursed him as I glared his way.

  “Alex, you sit in front!” I said, leaving no room for debate.

  Evidently, she thought she would debate it. “The back is pretty cramped, and I’m a lot shorter than you,” she said.

  “You remember when the saucepan lid fell behind the cabinets and you had me crawl back there to get it? I don’t seem to recall your being very interested in how cramped I felt then.”

  She smiled. “All right. I was just trying to help you avoid getting one more bruise.”

  “I’m so glad to have you as a friend,” I said drily as I pushed past her and climbed silently into the backseat. Since the Mustang was a three-door, the passenger seat back had to be folded down for me to climb in back. And yes, it was pretty damned cramped. But somehow . . . so nice. Better cramped than having to sit next to Elyas. Alex raised the front seat back into position and slid into the passenger seat.

  “Well? Do you have enough room?” Elyas asked as he also got in.

  “Plenty,” I replied curtly.

  He nodded, bent toward Alex, and fumbled in the glove compartment for his iPod. He inserted it into the sound system before starting the engine and driving off.

  I was surprised when I heard the first few beats of “It Was Written” by Damian Marley. It was one of my favorite songs.

  Several days ago when Elyas wasn’t home, I had visited Alex and browsed through his music collection in the living room. He had a lot of vintage CDs and LPs. I found a few albums I would never have thought he would be into.

  I had rather eclectic tastes in music, from reggae to black metal. When I realized Elyas had a similar, though not identical, mix in his collection, I was surprised.

  And now this.

  I kept my happiness about the song to myself and instead sat back. Elyas had turned the music up, so we didn’t talk during the drive. I just enjoyed the feeling of racing through the twilight-darkened streets of Berlin in a Mustang. The entire situation, with the music and the awesome car, was pretty freaking epic.

  The epic portion of the evening came to an end after just half an hour, though, when Elyas parallel-parked on a side street near the club. I would have preferred waiting in the car to going in with them, but Alex got out and held her seat forward for me, so I reluctantly mustered up the will.

  “Where did you get that black cardigan, anyway?” she asked once I was standing next to her.

  “Some shop somewhere at some point. Why?”

  “Because I’ve been looking for something like that for myself for a while. You’ve got to show me where the shop is.”

  I nodded with a little surprise.

  “Do you think something like that would look good on me?” She took a step back and studied me.

  “Sure, why not?” I replied.

  “I’m not convinced yet. Hey, do you think I could try it on?”

  I should have been suspicious, but good-natured as I was, I shrugged, slid the cardigan off, and held it out to her.

  Then everything happened fast.

  She balled up the cardigan, shouted “Elyas!” and threw it over the car to where he stood on the driver’s side. He was in on whatever plan this was, because he caught the cardigan in midair, tossed it fast as lightning into the backseat, and then locked the car.

  Everything had happened so quickly that I had no time to react. Instead, I stood looking like a complete idiot. It took me forever to understand what had happened as they high-fived each other and laughed.

  “Screw you guys,” I said, crossing my arms.

  “Believe me, Emely,” Alex said, still laughing. “That cardigan was butt-ugly. You look a lot better without it.”

  “But I like it! I hate how you’re always trying to force your own personal style on me.”

  “It has nothing to do with forcing anything on anyone. As a good friend, it is my obligation not to let you run around in something so ugly. And since you would never have voluntarily taken the cardigan off, I had no other choice. I was forced to do this.”

  “Oh, right. You were forced.” I snorted. “May I please have the car keys?” I said. They both laughed and shook their heads.

  “Come on,” Alex said and ran off.

  “I think you look better without it,” Elyas added.

  “Yay, another argument in favor of it,” I grumbled as I walked past him toward Alex. When I caught up with her, I gave her a serious shove for her secret operation. She giggled again.

  The club was only a few yards ahead. It turned out to be part of a huge complex of modern buildings on a square-shaped lot, the kind of chic new construction that was popping up all over Berlin. Though it was still on the early side, there was a long line at the entrance, and we had no choice but to wait. Elyas kept glancing at me, which did nothing but bother me, and I assume that was exactly the point. Since he was the last person I wanted to let in on how well it was working, I stared sullenly in the other direction.

  After we made it to the door and got past the beefy bouncer, Elyas stepped to the side to let me go first.

  “Ms. Winter,” he said, holding the door open with a smile. I acknowledged it with, “What century do you think this is, jerk?” as I moved past him.

  The club was two stories. On the first story, there was a huge dance floor with long bar counters on either side. There was a high stage in the middle, where the DJ spun his discs as he casually held his headphones between his cheek and shoulder. Oh, sure, I imagined saying to the DJ. You can put on your headphones to block the noise while I’m stuck having to listen to this shit.

  The second floor was in the form of a gallery, open in the middle so all the people could look over the steel railings at the crowd on the dance floor below.

  Stepping into the room with the main dance floor reminded me why I avoided places like this. The loud, throbbing music didn’t bug me, nor did the crushing mass of people—as long as I remained uncrushed. Even the flickering, flashing lights weren’t unpleasant. What bugged me were the swarming fakesters saying, “Oh, it’s so great to see you here”—kiss on the left cheek, kiss on the right cheek. Not to mention I always left these places with some kind of wild-game aftertaste that, weirdly, most girls, unlike me, seemed to enjoy.

  Elyas pushed his way ahead and then turned back to point us toward one of the bars. We nodded, and I felt Alex’s hand take hold of mine and squeeze tight so she wouldn’t lose me on our way.
We fought through the crush of gyrating bodies until we all made it to the bar. Elyas looked around and then headed for a small group of people trying to hold their position at the counter amid all the pushing and shoving. Alex squeezed my hand tighter with excitement. I followed her gaze and wondered which of the four men standing there was her guy. When I noticed one of them had a boy-band face and curly blond hair, I knew instantly.

  Otherwise, I found myself surprised by the looks of Elyas’s friends. I couldn’t say exactly what I had been expecting, but they looked shockingly normal. There were a couple of pretty boys, of course, but, all in all, they didn’t seem arrogant or superficial like Elyas.

  He was saying hi to each of them as we reached the group. I stood back, watching and occasionally looking over my shoulder because I didn’t know what else to do. Alex smiled until her brother was done with his hellos—which, to my amazement, didn’t involve the kiss-on-the-left, kiss-on-the-right routine but just a simple handshake for the guys and a brief hug for the three girls with them. These people seemed to like Elyas. Unimaginable, I thought.

  “Hey, let me introduce you to my captivating little sister,” Elyas said, smiling and pointing at Alex. We could halfway hear him when the music got softer for a beat.

  “Hi,” she said to the group with a little wave.

  “And next to her,” he began, taking a step toward me with a big smile, “is the wonderful Emely. She can be a little uptight, but we like her anyway.” When he put his arm around my shoulder, I suppressed my gag reflex and grabbed his hand to gently, but demonstratively, remove it.

  “Hi,” I called out to the unfamiliar faces.

  “Hi, I’m Domenic,” one of them said, shaking Alex’s hand and then mine, like a well-raised German boy. The first thing I noticed about him was his friendly brown eyes. He was skinny but attractive, and seemed to be younger than the others.

  “Jan,” said the guy next to him, with a hesitant nod. He seemed to find the whole introduction procedure as awkward as I did.

  I shook hands with the next guy. “Andy,” he said, smiling. Unlike the others, he was black. He was also at least six foot three and all muscle, with a waist twice as big around as mine. Although his physical presence was intimidating at first glance, it took only one look into his eyes to see he was a peaceful soul.