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Authors: Melyssa Winchester

BOOK: The Space in Between
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“I’m sorry, that doesn’t compute. I could have sworn you just said that you were going to the dance with someone else.”

“That’s because I did. Jonah wanted me to double with him and April, so I’m going with Marissa. But me and Emery, it’s not what you think. I mean, for a little while I thought it could be, but it’s pretty obvious she’s not into it.”

“Okay, this conversation is a little too female for me right now, and if you ever repeat what I’m about to say to anyone, I’ll deny it, but there’s some shit you gotta know. The girl likes you. Trust me on this. She just doesn’t want to blow shit up by doing something about it. And if you’re not as dumb as you appear right now, and you like her too, you’ll ditch your date to the dance and do something about it.”

“Johnny, why are you doing this?”

“Because she’s my best friend, and I’m getting sick of the merry-go-round that is the two of you. I’m also pretty damn sure the rest of the school is too. Look, I gotta go, but remember what I said. Morgan’s on Adelaide.”

Pulling the phone away from my ear as I’m met with the loud click of him hanging up, I put my phone away and head for the building, all the while going over everything he told me.

Is it possible that I wasn’t alone in the way I feel about her and she’s just better at keeping it hidden? Is she really afraid of ruining the friendship we have so she’s choosing to stay quiet? But the most important one repeats on a loop as I take the elevator up and walk down the hall into the apartment.

Is it too late to go back and change things?

 

Chapter Nine

 

Emery

 

Johnny was right.

I haven’t even left the house yet and standing in front of my mom’s full length mirror, I can see that the second I walk into the gym all eyes are going to be on me.

What the hell was I thinking, believing even for a second that this wasn’t going to stand out in a crowd? I mean, I’m wearing pink for crying out loud. It doesn’t get more noticeable than that.

I might as well go ahead and tack a sign on my back asking for people to look at the super freak.

Okay, that’s it. Jordan’s gonna have to get someone else to do this. I’m not going.

Reaching for my phone and pulling up his number, about to press the call button in order to tell him exactly what I’ve decided, my mom steps out from her walk in closet and comes to a stop behind me.

“I know you’re supposed to be the anti prom queen and all, but Emery, you look beautiful.”

“Speaking of beautiful,” I redirect her. “Another date with Saint Nick?”

“What did I say about calling him that?”

“Not to do it, but I mean it. If he makes you happy then he is a Saint.”

“Very funny.”

Moving around her and throwing myself down on her bed, exhaling deeply, she turns from her position checking her hair and comes over to sit beside me.

“What’s with the theatrics?”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Do what?”

“Go to the dance and pretend like I’m having a good time, or worse, take pictures of other people having a good time.”

“Didn’t you have to do this very thing last year?”

“Yeah, and the year before that, and the year before that. What’s your point?”

“Well, if you made it through those without any lasting scars, I have a feeling you can make it through this one too.”

“Last year I had a sheet over my head and unless people physically bumped into me, they had no idea I was even there. This,” I say, motioning to the dress. “Is
a lot
different than last year.”

“Yeah, I see that. This year people are going to be able to see you for the beautiful girl you are and not the ghost that you seem to think you should be. But surely your friends are going to be there, so you won’t have to face it alone?”

“You know Johnny, Mom. You can’t pay him enough to show up, and there’s no one else that I really hang out with other than him.”

“What about that Chris boy you told me about? Is he not going?”

I knew I was going to regret telling my mom about Christian. What started out as me being open with her about how school was and what I was up to, especially when she wondered where I was going every morning at the crack of dawn, had quickly turned into her wanting a play by play, and other than the kiss, she now knows as much about Christian as I do. Which is now coming back to bite me.

“We don’t really talk anymore.”

“Why not?”

“He hangs out with Jonah, and you know how he feels about Johnny. We just weren’t meant to be friends, I guess. No big deal, but that means I’m on my own for this and dressed the way I am right now, I just don’t think I can go through with it.”

“Do you remember when the company downsized and there was a bunch of agents on the chopping block? When I wasn’t sure what was going to happen and was living like any day the other shoe would drop?”

“Yeah, of course I do. It only happened a couple years ago.”

“Well, do you remember what you said to me back then when I snapped at you and you made me spill it?”

I don’t even know why she bothers asking if I can remember at this point. It’s a miracle that I can remember that time at all with everything that’s happened since, but to remember something specific I might have said back then, she’s pretty much out of luck.

“You know I don’t.”

“You told me to stop letting what could happen win. To stop living in the worst case scenario, go back to work and show them why if they got rid of me it would be their loss, not mine.”

I’m pretty sure I didn’t say anything quite that witty, but I see the point she’s trying to make. I’m doing now what she did then.

“So you think I should stop thinking about how bad it’s going to be and just suck it up and go?”

“You got it.”

“I didn’t really say all that, did I?”

“Actually, Em, you did. Sometimes I wish your memory was better, because there’s a lot of things you’ve said to me over the years that I think if you could just bring them up easily in your head, would serve you well with what you’re facing in the future.”

“Yeah, I’m a regular Aristotle over here.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Plato, but he works too.” She nudges me until I crack and we both laugh. “The point I’m trying to make is, you can do this, but only if you get past what might not happen so that you can live what will.”

Nodding in understanding, I don’t object when her next move is to pull me into a hug. I don’t pull away or try and weasel my out of it because unlike some people, I actually like the moments like this where I can be as open and honest with my feelings as I want and she just gets it and knows the right thing to say to make it better.

“Thanks Mom.”

“Anytime, but now that we’ve managed to muddle our way through your issues, do you think you could do your fashion challenged mom a favor?”

“You’re asking the girl dressed as a crazy prom queen for fashion advice? Really?”

“Yes, I believe that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Fine, I’ll help, but considering how hot you look in that dress, I’m not really seeing the problem here.”

“It’s not about the dress. It’s about what one wears with a dress like this.”

“Please tell me you’re talking about shoes.” I plead, desperate to ignore the visual of her in her bra and panties that enters my mind when she asks.

“What else would I be talking about?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Come on, I think I still have those heels you bought me for Grandpas funeral.” I stand, slipping my hand in hers  and pulling her from her room into mine, breaking away long enough to rifle through my closet, finding what I’m after and handing them over.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know, but I’m also an advice giver. If you and Nick are getting serious enough to move from normal clothes to formalwear, you might want to look into going shopping for more shoes than just those broken down runners you own and the ugly black flats you insist on wearing to work. My feet are still growing, which means you won’t be able to raid my shoes for much longer.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

“So where’s he taking you tonight?”

“Dinner and dancing.”

“That explains the dress then. Can I give you a little piece of advice before I go finish my costume and get out of your hair?”

“Shoot.”

“When he gets one look at you dressed like that, he’s going to start thinking with his other head, so if you’re gonna go all the way, make sure you’re protected.”

Ducking out of dodge before she has the chance to catch me, laughing all the way down the hall straight into the safety of the bathroom and its locked door, I focus my attention to the blood packets on the counter and doing exactly what I told my mom I was going to do.

Finish getting ready, but more importantly, getting this whole thing over with.

Halloween dance, here I come.

 

Chapter Ten

 

Christian

 

When I get my hands on Johnny Davenport, I’m gonna kill him.

I may not have had the balls to tell Marissa I couldn’t go the dance with her, but showing up with someone and dancing with them a few times, does not an actual date make. I would do everything in my power to make sure she had a good time, but when I left tonight, I fully planned on doing it with Emery.

The reason I’m even wearing this stupid suit that’s ripped and shredded in all of the right places. Why I took it one step further when I bought the used suit and put a tie through the same trauma.

All for her.

I honestly can’t believe I did such a good job with it.

So if the costume turned out perfect, what the hell’s the problem?

Well, that’s easy. The girl that should be here to see the effort I made and the one I need to pull aside and actually talk to, even though she’s been doing everything in her power to avoid me, is nowhere to be found.

Emery is not here.

Trust me, I’ve checked. I even bailed on the gym and went down every hall I could before I was hit up by a teacher and sent back. There was no sign of her.

So all of this work was for nothing, which means Jonah was right all along. Johnny got one over on me. He played me for a chump.

I tried to get past this girl and the way she makes me feel. When she came back to school after having those two days off, I’d kept my distance, and when she made no effort to approach me or talk after what happened at her spot, I’d accepted it even though I hated every second.

For days I spent lunch alone, until Jonah had enough of it and harassed me until I was hanging with him and the other guys on the soccer team. The entire time pretending to give a crap about what they were talking about while missing Emery and the way it felt being in the music room with her creating something that mattered.

I did everything humanly possible to put her and the way it felt being with her out of my head. Nothing worked.

She’s everywhere. A constant presence that in gym class I can’t even seem to escape.

When Coach Rodgers called a dodge ball day, I’d been happy. I could take all of this pent up crap and unleash it on the guys across from me. But of course, a girl came into the gym that from behind looked like Emery and just like that, I’d been bombarded with an attack of killer balls and out I went. Literally.

They hit me so hard in the head, I actually blacked out.

It’s pathetic.

If she’s not into me and what happened between us was like what happened between her and Johnny last year, fine. Tell me that. Maybe if she did, I wouldn’t be standing here waiting on her like a gigantic chump now.

Maybe I might be able to move past her.

Yeah right.

To be honest, the way I am sickens me. This is not the first girl I’ve been into. It’s not even the first kiss I’ve ever had, yet the way I can’t seem to move past it, searching for her down empty corridors when I damn well know she won’t be there and unable to look away from her when we are in class together, proves different. It’s like I’m ten years old in the back of my dad’s cruiser with Michelle Jamieson all over again.

God that kiss was all sorts of wrong.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Shaking off the prepubescent memories, I turn and I’m met with the confused face of the only other friend I have in this stupid school.

“A costume?”

“Didn’t we plan on zombie football players? I mean, Marissa and April are dressed as matching cheerleaders.”

“Because that’s such a stretch from the way they normally look.”

“Wow. Since when did you switch spots with Carmichael?”

Man, I can’t even escape her when I’m taking to Jonah.

I’m royally screwed.

“This has nothing to do with her.”

“Sure it doesn’t.”

“It—Doesn’t.” I grumble. “I’m just stating facts.”

“Right, look. Ignoring the fact that I agree with you about it, when you said yes to this, you agreed to match her costume, same as I did with April and well, I held up my end of the bargain. You on the other hand, match the person taking the pictures.”

I’m about to open my mouth and argue when it hits me. He just said
the girl taking pictures
. If he’s saying it like that, it means she’s here.

“She’s here?”

“Yep. Came in about ten minutes ago. Looks pretty hot too, for a torn up prom queen.”

“Where?”

Grabbing ahold of me, not even bothering to just tell me, he spins me around until my eyes lock on her.

She’s standing near the stage with her back to me, but just like Johnny told me on the phone weeks ago, she’s dressed to match the outfit that I painstakingly put together.

“He wasn’t fucking with me.”

“Who wasn’t?”

“Johnny.”

“Okay, I’m not following. What did Johnny tell you?”

“He told me to wear this. He said she was going to be coming dressed as a lunatic prom queen and that if I gave a shit about her, I’d do this.”

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