52

52
Emma finally calmed down after several minutes.
She sat on the stool beside me, her knee barely brushing mine, but she didn’t move away.

“Em…” I called gently.

She turned her face toward me but didn’t speak, just stared. Her hazel eyes, still stormy from earlier, softened only slightly.

“My sister is waiting for me on the couch,” I continued, my voice hesitant. “I don’t want to leave… really, I don’t. But I’m grounded, and she’s doing me a huge favor just by keeping my parents from noticing I’m gone.”

Emma blinked slowly, registering my words. “You’re grounded?”

“Yeah… for a month.”

Her brows shot up. “A whole month? What did you do?”

I gave her a sheepish look. “You remember the night you saw me in the parking lot?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I was drunk. And… I drove home. My parents found out, and, yeah, drinking and driving is a big no-no in our house.”

Emma gave me a flat stare and then sighed deeply, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the counter. “If I were your parents, I’d probably ground you for life. Jen, that’s not just a mistake. You could’ve gotten hurt. Or worse.”

“I know,” I muttered, lowering my eyes. “But I wasn’t thinking straight. I was… hurting.”

That made her look at me. Her eyes searched mine again, and I couldn’t hold the gaze for long.

“So what? You were trying to hurt yourself?” she asked, voice sharp but laced with worry.

“No!” I immediately replied. “No, I just— I needed to get away. From everything. That party. That night. Everything was just… too much.”

Her gaze darkened. “What party?”

Shit.

“Oh… uhm… It was just a party. Teenager stuff. Someone invited me, so I went.”

“Uh-huh,” she said slowly. “Whose party?”

I shifted in my seat. “Em, I really have to go.”

She leaned back. “Do you remember your shirt that night? Two buttons undone. You don’t think I remembered?”

Crap. That night.

Kate.

Her hands.

My shirt.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks as I looked away, suddenly unable to meet Emma’s eyes. I thought I had buried that night behind my ache for Emma, but she hadn’t forgotten.

“Yeah, that's what I thought.” she muttered.

I stayed quiet, focusing instead on the patterned marble on her kitchen counter. I felt small under her gaze, exposed. Guilty.

But I shouldn’t be.

I didn’t do anything wrong. She pushed me away. She disappeared. She made me believe she had someone else. So I went to a party. I tried to move on. I tried—

“Go, Jen,” Emma said suddenly. Her voice was quiet but final. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I blinked, startled by the shift.

She stood, collected the beer bottles, and threw them in the trash bin with a clatter that echoed in the silence.

“Em…” I stood as well, but my voice faltered. “I’m… still grounded. Ten more days. I don’t think I’ll be able to sneak out after Anne leaves. She’s only staying the weekend.”

Emma stood still for a moment, her eyes distant. Then, “I’ll find a way. We need to talk—really talk. I wanted to do that tonight, but…” She trailed off, looking toward the door.

I nodded and left.

—

When I opened our door, Anne immediately sat up from the couch, eyes curious.

“So?” she asked, like a kid asking about the ending of a movie.

I chuckled and flopped beside her, giving her a side hug. “Thank you.”

“That’s all I get?” she asked, poking my arm. “Come on, give me something.”

“We didn’t really get to talk much,” I said honestly. “She thought you were someone else. I told her I’m grounded and why. That’s it.”

Anne raised a skeptical brow.

“No, seriously,” I insisted. “We were mostly quiet.”

She kept staring at me, and I knew what she was thinking. And yeah, okay, she wasn’t wrong.

I stood to leave, but she caught my wrist and tugged me back down.

“You know I waited like an hour, right? At least entertain me for five minutes.”

“There’s nothing else to tell. I’m going to bed now, okay?” I said, trying to sound convincing.

Anne sighed in defeat. “Fine. You owe me.”

I retreated to my room, grabbed some fresh clothes, and hit the shower.

But no matter how hot the water was, it didn’t drown out my thoughts.

The kiss. God, the kiss.

It burned through my memory like fire—jealous Emma, possessive Emma. Her lips had punished me, claimed me. The tension between us had exploded like a match to dry wood. My heart still pounded thinking about it.

I dried off, pulled on my pajamas, and crawled into bed. The quiet hum of the night buzzed in my ears as my mind wandered restlessly.

Was she still with that guy? Did she marry him?

No… no way. Right?

Did she even come out to her parents? Did she try?

What did her past two weeks look like? Did she cry too? Did she listen to the same sad songs I did?

Would she really find a way to see me? Or was that something you just say in the moment?

So many questions. No answers.

I groaned and shoved my face into my pillow. “Sleep,” I muttered to myself. “Just sleep.”

But Emma’s name still rang in my mind, soft and lingering like a whisper.

—

I was sound asleep when someone shook me by the shoulders.

“Jen. Jen!”

A familiar voice. Anne’s.

“What?” I mumbled groggily, my eyes still glued shut from sleep.

“Wake up!” she said again, more urgently.

I tried to sit up but barely managed to lift my head. “What is it? Why—”

“Your neighbor is in the living room.”

I blinked. Once. Twice.

“Your neighbor is in the living room,” she repeated.

That sentence echoed in my head like a broken record.

Your neighbor is in the living room.

Your. Neighbor. Is. In. The. Living. Room.

I sat up abruptly, eyes now wide as saucers.

“What?”

Before I could process anything else, Anne clamped a hand over my mouth.

“Shhh! Keep it down, drama queen!”

My heart pounded like it wanted out of my chest.

“Emma is here?” I asked, whisper-shouting.

“Yes, Emma is here.” Anne said, still trying to keep me calm. “Mom asked for you. So wash your face or something. You look like a half-dead raccoon.”

“What?” I echoed again, brain still catching up.

Then, before I could do anything else, Anne smacked my cheek lightly—just enough to jolt me back.

“Ow! What the hell?!”

“You were freaking out,” she said, totally unapologetic. “And I didn’t have time for another ‘What?’ chorus.”

I glared at her, rubbing my cheek. “You’re insane.”

“Get over it. Now hurry!” she said, throwing my towel at me before marching out of the room.

I sat there for a few seconds, blinking again.

This had to be a dream. Or some kind of fever hallucination.

Emma. Here.

In our living room.

And Mom called for me?

My brain was fried.

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