Emmalee (3 page)

           
“Eventually, yes.”  He turned to look at me. 
His eyes held millions of secrets in their sparkling blue facets.

           
“But, why?” I couldn’t help asking.  For some
reason the thought of him leaving again left me feeling a bit
uncomfortable.

           
“Because, Emma.” He smiled a bit ruefully. “I’m
twenty-one, now.  I can’t spend my time here forever, you
know.”

           
“Oh.  Well, I am surprised since you are so busy, that you
had time to come and visit your family at all.”  I looked
away. 

           
“Can’t someone come because they miss a place?”

I caught his eyes again, “It
depends.”

           
“On?”

           
“On, how long that person plans on staying.  A week? 
Then no, I wonder why he would’ve even taken the trouble. 
A month?  Is decent, but not nearly enough time to --”

           
“How does six months sound?”  He grinned as my jaw
dropped.

           
“Six months?  Really?” 
Six months is a
very long time
.  I smiled back.  Smiled?  I was
probably glowing, but I didn’t care.

           
“Are you happy now?”

           
“Yes.”

           
“Good.”  He chuckled.  “And before you
ask, I will tell you.  I’m here to help my dad clean up a
few of his businesses.  I happen to be good at that.”

           
“Cleaning up businesses?”

           
“Well, yeah, but I meant helping my dad.”  I
watched, baffled a bit as he stood up and walked out of the dressing
room.  A few seconds later he returned with a blanket for
Georgia.  After he tucked the purple quilt around her, he held
his hand out to take the puppy I’d forgotten I had.

           
“Oh, sorry.”  I handed the warm sleeping body over
and smiled when Chase snuggled the puppy next to its mother. 
Lady immediately began to lick the little guy and welcome him home. 
“You did a very good job,” I whispered as I stroked her
soft fur.  “I have never seen more beautiful puppies,
ever.”

           
I heard Chase chuckle above me.  I turned and instantly he held
his hand out for me.  I said a quick good-bye to Lady and then
let him help me to my feet. 

           
“Are your parents home?  I think it’s time I said,
hello, don’t you?” 

Chapter 3:

“So, are you going to give me
your phone number,

or am I going to have to stalk you?”

           
It was as I was contemplating the mysteriousness that seemed to
revolve around Chase--instead of listening to Ms. Ingle during my
honors history class—that I first noticed her.  I asked
Elton Bloomfield, the senior class president who sat next to me, what
her name was.  And it took a good three whispered explanations
before he was able to realize which girl I meant.

           
“Are you talking about that weird girl sitting alone in the
front of the room?”  I could tell he was intrigued I
seemed to notice her at all.

           
“Yes, with the bright yellow cotton hobo bag.  Who is
she?” I quickly whispered just before Ms. Ingle turned towards
us.

           
“I think her name is Hannah.  Why?” he whispered
back once the coast was clear.

           
“Because, she’s gorgeous.  Don’t you think
so?”

           
“Gorgeous?”  I could tell Elton had never considered
it before.

           
“Yes, look at her face.  Not her hair, her face. 
She’s really pretty.”

           
“Well, yeah.  So she’s pretty.  Why do you
care?”  He grinned somewhat confused at me.

           
“Because, I am going to make her my new best friend, that’s
why.”

           
“You are?”  He looked shocked.

           
I laughed before I remembered my surroundings, which earned me a
glare from Ms. Ingle.  I smiled my “Bradford smile.” 
She must’ve been impressed because thankfully, she didn’t
comment.   After the teacher turned to the board again I
thought it was safe enough to answer.

           
“Of course, I am,” I hissed. “It’s going to
be so much fun.  I can’t wait.  Don’t you think
she’ll be excited when I tell her the good news?” 
My eyes searched his for an answer.

           
“Oh, uh, yeah.”  He nodded.  “I think
so.  I mean, I can’t see why not.  Who wouldn’t
want to be your friend?”
           
“Exactly!  It’s perfect, isn’t it?”  I
grinned.

           
Elton blinked a moment, but didn’t answer. 

           
I glanced back at the girl and then to Elton. “Her name is
Hannah?  You’re sure?”

           
“Uh-yeah,” he swallowed.  “Pretty sure. 
You want me to ask for you?”

           
“Oh, Elton!  Would you?” I smiled my prettiest smile
right at him.

           
“Harrumph!”

           
My head jerked up to the front of the class.  Ms. Ingle was
really glaring this time.  I smiled.  She wasn’t
affected.  “Emmalee Bradford, is there something you would
like to share with us?”

           
All eyes in the classroom flew to mine.  “Uh—no, Ms.
Ingle.  Thank you.” I smiled really big then.  I
mean, when the whole class is watching you might as well look good. 

           
Ms. Ingle rolled her eyes before answering. “Fine.  But
please try to refrain from speaking out of turn while in my class,
okay?”

“Yes.  Ms. Ingle, I will
try,” I promised and then smiled again, just for added
assurance.

           
“Good,” she answered before she turned back to the board.

           
“I’ll have Hannah waiting to be introduced to you as soon
as class is over.  Just meet us in the hall,” Elton
mumbled hastily before he turned back to his book and ignored me
completely.

           
By the time it took to gather my books and accessories and place them
in my Juicy Couture handbag--which looked more like a large purse
than an actual school bag—Elton was true to his word and was
waiting for me in the hallway with Hannah.

           
“Emmalee, this is Hannah Smith,” he announced.  And
then thinking he might’ve needed to add more said, “I—uh,
thought you two would—uh—like to get to know one
another,” before he nervously grinned at me and then walked
away.

           
“Hello, Hannah.”  I smiled my Bradford smile for the
third time that day.  Hannah was not immune to it.  She
brought her head up from contemplating her colorful bag.  I
noticed I was about four inches taller than her. 

           
After a brief hesitation I heard a faint, “Hello.” before
she walked away.

           
Huh?
  I was quick to catch up.  “Do you have
lunch this hour?”

           
Surprised, Hannah turned to see me next to her.  “It’s
okay, Emmalee, you don’t have to do this.”

           
 “Do what?”

           
Hannah stopped so abruptly a guy almost crashed into her.  “Get
to know me.  Just because Elton introduced us, doesn’t
mean you have to try and be nice, okay?”

           
Whoa! 
“What--?”
 

           
“Really, I won’t even blame you if you want to go and
find one of your friends.  Look, I’ll see ya around.” 
She started to walk again. 

           
It took a whole three seconds before I could move.  And when I
did, I had to practically run to catch up to her.  “Wait. 
Hannah, wait!”     

           
“Yeah?”

           
“I asked Elton to introduce us.  Honestly.  If you
have lunch right now, do you wanna grab a bite together?”

           
She switched her bag to her other shoulder.  “Why?”

           
“So I can get to know you.”

           
“Is this some sort of prank, or something?”

           
Flabbergasted, I smiled.  I couldn’t think of anything
else to do.  “No.  It’s not.”

           
Curious she searched my smile for a moment and then shrugged. 
“This better not be, or you’ll live to regret it. 
I’ve got to drop off a few things first.  Where do you
want me to meet you?”

           
“Oh, uh—at my car?  Do you know which one it is?”

           
“Sure.  Give me about five minutes, okay?”

“All right.”  My
smile stayed in place until Hannah was out of sight.  Then ever
so slowly it lowered into a frown as I made my way out of the hall
into the bright sunshine. 
Why doesn’t Hannah think
that I’d want to talk to her?  Does she think I’m a
snob or something?  And if she thinks I am, who else does?
 
I found that question to be too disturbing to ponder at the moment,
and shook it off completely as I approached my car. 

           
At the fast food restaurant we both ordered chicken sandwiches and
then laughed at ourselves.  It ended up being the first of
surprisingly many things we had in common.

           
“I can’t believe you’ve heard of the band Take
That,” Hannah declared in shock after sipping on her lemonade. 
“I thought I was the only one who collected their music.”

           
“Are you kidding?  I’ve got every CD they’ve
ever made.”  I smiled and popped a fry in my mouth, before
ignoring every rule I had been taught and asked while chewing, “Okay,
so music is a score.  How about books?  Do you like to
read?”

           
“Do I?”  Hannah laughed.  I thought for sure
she would say no until, “All right.  I’ve got one
for you.”  She leaned forward and smirked.  “Jacob
or Edward?”  I watched amused as she lifted one eyebrow in
a defiant challenge. 

           
Ooh, we are raising the stakes now, aren’t we?
 I
decided to play dumb. “You mean in the
Twilight
series?”

           
“Of course!  What other Edward and Jacob are there?”

           
“Fine.  You have a point.”  If there were any
other Edward and Jacob characters other than in
Stephenie Meyer’s
romantic thriller series, then I had never heard of them.

           
“You have read the
Twilight
series, haven’t
you?” Hannah asked a bit concerned.

           
“Uh, duh!  What girl hasn’t?  I totally own
them all.”

           
“Me, too!” she gushed. “Hardbound and paperback. 
The paperback are so much easier to carry.”

           
“No, way!  I have both sets too, though I usually am too
afraid to tell anyone.”
Man, I like this girl.
 

           
“So-o, Edward or Jacob?” Hannah asked again.

           
“Edward.  Big shocker there, but definitely Edward.”

           
“Aww!  You’re kidding?  I so heart Jacob.”

           
“Wait, you actually like Jacob?”

           
“Yeah.  He’s hot.  But seriously, Bella was so
not for him.  Who knew he would end up with—well, you
know.”

           
“I know!  I was that shocked, totally blindsided you have
no idea.”

           
That was it.  From then on the rest of lunch was nonstop
Twilight talk.  I couldn’t believe how much fun it was to
hash out and debate our differences over the same series that we both
loved.  None of my other friends had really gotten into Twilight
as much as I had and it was so cool to finally meet someone who
understood the bookish part of me. 

           
As we pulled back into the school parking lot, Hannah shook her head
bemused.  “I have to say, Emma, I wasn’t expecting
us to get along at all.  Honestly, you don’t seem the type
of person to like all of the cool things you do.”

I burst out laughing as I set the
emergency brake and turned off the car.  “What in the
world is that supposed to mean?”

           
She chuckled as she collected her bag and pushed open the door. 
“Well, you know—I just didn’t expect you to be so
easy going.  You’re really not what you look like at all.”

           
I opened my door and we both climbed out.  “Um, gee. 
Thanks, I think?”  I grinned over the hood at her, not
sure what else to say.

           
“It was a compliment trust me…”  Hannah’s
voice trailed off as a group of guys from the football team came up
to us.

           
“Hey Emma!  How come you never return my calls?” 

           
I rolled my eyes at Justin Lineweaver.  It was the same question
he asked me every day.  “You know I don’t date high
school guys.”  I hitched my purse on my shoulder and
flashed my Bradford smile, before walking over to Hannah’s
side.  I pulled her up over the median to the grass lawn and
away from the guys.

           
“Justin Lineweaver has been calling you, and you don’t
return his calls?” 

           
“Yeah, long story.  Which reminds me.  Where’s
your cell?  Here’s mine.  Copy your digits in it so
we can hang.”

           
“Sure.”  She passed me her phone.

           
I realized our thumbs both moved at the same warped speed. 
The
mark of a true texter.
 We grinned as we handed our phones
back at the same time.       

           
The bell rang.

           
“Hey, I’ll text you after school, okay?”

           
“Cool.  Bye!”  Hannah waved and made her way to
the science building.  The direct opposite from art class where
I was headed.

           
I had just finished my English homework when my mom poked her head in
the room.  “Hey, Emma.  You’ve got a visitor
downstairs.”

           
“A visitor?”  My brow furled.  “Who is
it?”

           
Mom smiled.  “You’ll see.”

           
Curious, I stood up to follow her. 

           
“Oh, you may want to change your shoes.”
           
“My shoes?”  I glanced down at my glittery flats. 
“What’s wrong with them?”