The Space In Between Page 6

  “Honestly, I would have thought with the way we started the week and how rough it was putting this song together, you’d want to get as far away from me as possible now that we’re done.”

  “Is that how you feel?”

  “No, but I mean, I’d get it if you did.”

  “Well I don’t, and I figure with all the mornings we’ve spent here, bedhead, bad breath and attitude on display for the other to see, we’re a little more than music partners now. Don’t you think?”

  A little more than music partners.

  Now I know I didn’t read into that. She actually said those words.

  “Tolerating acquaintances. Better?”

  Unable to hold back her laughter, it spills out and despite not wanting to give away how much I enjoy it, with the warmth that grabs ahold of me, I’m willing to bet it shows.

  “I was thinking friends, but that works too.”

  “Friends.” I repeat, getting a feel for the word and enjoying the way it feels.

  “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Considering that on my first day here, I made you fall off your bike, almost knocked you down in the hall and the next day I practically bit your head off…yeah, kinda.”

  “Well believe it, buddy. You’re officially a real boy. You’ve made your first friend.”

  Biting back the laugh threatening to escape and practically choking on it, I shake my head and she laughs.

  “I’m not your first?”

  Ignoring the ways I could take those words that have nothing at all to do with the real meaning, I nod. “You almost were, but Jonah beat you to it.”

  Jonah Thomas. The only other person besides Emery to talk to me the first day. All around sports nut and nice guy. Having to share a gym class every day, with him practically running the joint when we’re there, he’d taken me under his wing and never looked back.

  “Oh, Jonah! Isn’t he just sooooo dreamy?” Bringing her hands together and leaning them under her chin, resting on them, she gets this glossed over look in her eye and even knowing deep down she’s being sarcastic, it still hits me like a sucker punch to the gut.

  What the hell? Why do I care who Emery likes?

  “Hey! He’s a nice guy.”

  “Uh, hello! Didn’t I just say he was dreamy?”

  “Yeah and you may have rolled your eyes a little when you did it.”

  “Grrr.” She growls. “I was really trying to sell that better.”

  “Looks like it needs more work.”

  “But Mikey, you should know. He’s not nearly as dreamy as you.”

  This time she takes it a step further by moving closer into me, her eyes moving at such a rapid pace it’s hard to keep up. Her lips pursing, her head now leaning on my shoulder, she’s making it impossible to think, much less anything else.

  When did it get so hot in here?

  “I think—you nailed it.” I manage to choke out, at which point she pulls away, punches me in the shoulder and turns away laughing.

  “Don’t ever doubt my ability to sell bullshit when I need to. Now, I hate to break up the party, but I need to drop off some stuff at the paper before class, so I’ll see you soon.”

  Watching as she grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder, I’m still rendered speechless as she heads for the door. My heart dropping deeper into my stomach when she pauses before going through and turns toward me again, saying words that I’m sure are designed to stop my heart.

  “Don’t miss me too much.” With a blown kiss to me as her final act, she breezes through the doorway and as I watch her go through and the door subsequently shut behind her, I’m left with only one thought.

  What if I don’t want it to be bullshit?

  Chapter Six

  Emery

  Pulling the car into the driveway and letting it idle as the newest Sleeping with Sirens song plays to the end, I turn the key in the ignition, step out and jog up, trying the door and finding it unlocked, before pushing it open and stepping inside.

  Pausing as I catch the music coming from the living room, I toss my bag on the floor and watch as the strangest scene plays out in front of me.

  My mom is making her way around the room with our feather duster, dancing like nobody is watching and humming along with the song, her face lit up in a smile. At least there’s a smile there until in the middle of one of her spins around she realizes she’s no longer alone and has an audience held captive.

  “Oh, Emery! I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Turning the volume on the stereo down, she places the duster on the ledge of our fireplace, her expression going from surprised to embarrassed in the second it takes for me to blink.

  “Gee, I wonder why.” I say, motioning to the stereo and I’m met with her laughter.

  It’s been happening a lot more lately, but until now it was nothing this obvious. She’s been moving more fluidly around the house, smiling more often, and I could have sworn this morning when I got up to get a shower, she was singing while doing her makeup.

  A move I haven’t seen her do since I was six.

  It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what’s causing it.

  She’s been out three times already this week to meet the mysterious coffee guy and whatever they’ve been doing when they’re together—which part of me is almost afraid to ask—it’s obviously doing good things for her mood.

  She’s a whole new woman, and even though I asked her after the second date when I was going to get to meet him and she’d shut me down, I would still like to thank him.

  This is the mom I remember as a kid.

  The one that wasn’t so beat down going to work every day, coming home and repeating the same cycle that she’d lost the spark she had before. The very same one that fostered my love of pictures at an early age because she was always taking them with me.

  The mom I missed.

  “Someone seems happy.” I observe and the blush creeps across her cheeks even deeper. “Does this have something to do with the mystery man you refuse to let me meet?”

  “We’ve been over this, Emery. When the time is right, you’ll meet, but if it’s going to end before it’s got a chance to begin, I don’t want to take the chance. We’ve been through enough. I’m not adding more to it.”

  “You’re not answering my question.”

  “Yes, it has a little something to do with Nicholas, but that’s all you’re getting.”

  Feeling particularly cheeky now that I’ve caught her showering her happiness all over the house when I’m sure she wanted to keep it quiet, I push my luck.

  “Why is it that when I’m interested in a guy you’re all over me and I’ve got to tell you every detail about him, straight down to his shoe size, but I can’t do the same with you?”

  “Because I’m your mother, that’s why.”

  “You use that answer for everything, Mom. It’s getting old. By my estimation, it’s about as old as you are.”

  “Emery Rose, watch your mouth! You’re still young enough to use the soap on.”

  “If I curse, maybe, but since I didn’t, that’s an empty threat and you know it.”

  “When your baby girl comes to you in thirty years and says the same thing to you, I want you to come back and tell me how it makes you feel. Until then, reign it in.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  Backing out of the room and picking my bag up off the floor, I barely hit the stairs before she’s calling out.

  “That’s the point!”

  Thankful she can’t see the roll that my eyes instinctively do whenever she talks complete crazy, I head up the stairs and into my room, hanging my bag on the door before sliding my hand into the side pocket and bringing out my phone.

  Waking it from its slumber with a sharp drag across the screen, I’m met with a bunch of notifications from Facebook, the majority of which are from Johnny, and two messages.

  Ignoring the notifications, I open the messages, only to find that
the two that are waiting for me are from none other than the guy I just spent the last twenty minutes at the bus stop waiting with.

  I can’t believe how bug eyed Yorke got when we performed today. That was insane. Why didn’t anyone tell me music classes could be like that?

  And about fifteen minutes after the first, another one.

  Hey. I know this is kinda short notice, but my dad scored four passes for The Expendables 3 and I asked Jonah to come. Since I know how dreamy you think he is, I was thinking maybe you and JD might wanna come too. ;)

  One time I mention that I like action flicks when we were taking a break from working on our assignment and look what happens.

  He asks me on a date.

  Sure, Johnny and Jonah will be there so it’s not exactly a date, but still. It’s a little strange.

  Does he know the way I’ve been looking at him lately? The thoughts I’ve been having, and at least for the last couple of nights, the random dreams that have been starring him, or is this just random?

  Bringing up the text box, I start typing out a message, but not before my phone shakes in my hand and another one comes through.

  It’s not a date. Repeat. This is not a date.

  With the sigh that escapes after reading, you’d think I’d be happier about it, but with how personal things got this morning in the music room, how quick he is to make sure I know it’s not a date actually stings.

  Suck it up, Emery. This is what you wanted. He doesn’t have a clue that he’s starring in your fantasies.

  Tapping the phone, erasing everything I wrote in favor of taking a different route, along with ignoring the voice in my head, I text out my reply and hit send before I talk myself out of it.

  When did you wanna go?

  Putting the phone down on the bed long enough to unzip my bag and bring out my homework and tossing it on the desk, the familiar ding of a new message greets me when I head back to pick it up.

  I was thinking sometime this weekend if you can do it.

  Sounds great. I’ll text JD and let you know what he says.

  Cool. Ttyl Ems. Don’t miss me too much ;)

  Realizing too late that the eye roll I did isn’t visible to anyone but me and the bed I directed it to, I toss the phone back down, enjoying a laugh at my own expense and head over the start the mound of homework that awaits me.

  If I want to be able to make it through this non-date with a guy I can’t seem to stop liking no matter what I do, then I’ve got to focus on the one thing that I can make sense out of.

  Geography.

  Places on a map that despite people coming and going, never change. Places that remain solid.

  The one thing that when it comes to Christian Cayne, I can’t seem to do.

  Christian

  “Getting to watch Stallone blow shit up for free? You’re screwing with me, right? You had me at Expendables.”

  I had a feeling Jonah was going to be easy. What I didn’t expect was that he was going to catch on so quickly to the other two people I wanted to invite and call me out on it.

  “So, did she say yes?”

  Moving from the kitchen, where my dad is going over case files, knowing what Jonah’s getting at and wanting to keep it as quiet as possible, I walk into my room and lay back on the bed.

  “Did who say yes?”

  “That’s how you’re gonna play it, huh? Make me spell it out? Fine. Did Emery say yes to going with you?”

  “Who says I even invited her?”

  “With the way your voice just shook when you answered, you just did.”

  Damn.

  “Gonna ask her next.”

  “Well, if you wanna guarantee she shows, you might wanna invite Davenport too. Those two are practically attached at the hip.”

  “Yeah, I planned on it.”

  “I’m not one for drama, Chris, but if you’ve got a thing for her, you might not wanna let your guard down around Davenport. Before you got here, he made a pretty legendary play for her.”

  “Legendary how?”

  “No way. I’m not saying anymore. I just wanted to give you a heads up. If you wanna know the shit that went down last year, you gotta get it from the source.”

  Great. The last thing I want to do. I’m sure cornering Emery and asking her about last year won’t freak her out at all.

  “Just tell me, Jo.”

  “Fine, but if it comes out, you heard someone talking about it. Like I said, I don’t buy into the gossip shit.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?” I question, pulling the phone away from my ear and shaking it, frustrated with the way he’s beating around the bush and wishing he’d just get on with it.

  “No, because I saw that shit with my own eyes. Emery and I have been in the same classes since elementary school.”

  “Can you just tell me what happened?”

  “You know how every year around Valentine’s Day, schools do some flower power crap where you can send a rose and some candy to the person you like? JD thought it would be a good idea to steal some cash from his old man and buy them out on the last day. He sent them all to her, Chris. It messed with her pretty bad.”

  “Messed with her? How?”

  “I’ve known Emery a long ass time. I mean, damn, the girl was my first kiss when I was six, but whatever. She’s not exactly the friendliest chick, if you get what I’m saying. She doesn’t go out of her way to get attention from guys the way most of the girls do. It’s always just her and that damn camera. When JD did that with the flowers, it embarrassed the hell out of her. She didn’t come to school for a week after. A monumental and legendary screw up.”

  It’s a crappy way of getting information about Emery, but I can’t deny that it’s been helpful. I already figured she wasn’t the most social girl on the planet and since she’s had the camera with her every day, I already knew that much about her too. It’s the knowledge that she’s not big on huge gestures, especially when made in public that interests me the most.

  Information I’m pretty damn sure I never would have gotten from her.

  “There’s something I don’t get. If he screwed up that bad with her, and from what I’ve seen they’re just best friends, why the hell do I need to watch my back around him?”

  “Because it’s been a year and Davenport is a protective asshole when he cares about something. That’s why.”

  “Well, I’m not sure what the hell I’m supposed to do with the info, but thanks.”

  “No problem. You’re the first guy in a while that didn’t show up here acting like a tool. I like that. So I wanna make sure, especially with what I’ve been catching between you guys in class that you knew what you were getting into.”

  What he doesn’t get is I’m not getting myself into anything. We’re friends, Emery and I. Nothing more, nothing less. Even if the way I seem to react whenever she’s within a few feet of me proves otherwise.

  “Again, thanks for the heads up.”

  “You’re welcome, but Chris, one more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “If I’m right about all this and you do like the girl, don’t be a pussy about it, alright? Act on it, because Emery hasn’t hung out with someone new since her and Johnny became friends’ freshman year, and she did with you. It means something.”

  Telling him I’ll talk to him later and ending the call, leaning back against the headboard and releasing the huge breath of air I’d been holding in pretty much the entire time Jonah was talking, I replay his last words over repeatedly in my head.

  It means something.

  There it is again. Signs. I know that they’re supposed to mean something, and that they’re guiding me towards actually acting on whatever this is I might be feeling with Emery, but what I don’t get is why.

  Pop, what the hell are you trying to get me to see?

  Chapter Seven

  Emery

  Well, this is awkward.

  I’d been so sure Johnny would agree to
be my partner in crime for this movie night with Christian and Jonah that when I asked and he begged off, saying he was heading out of town with his brother, I laughed. I really thought he was kidding.

  Turns out he was serious. Now, instead of it being the four of us, it’s a threesome, and not the type people write into dirty magazines about.

  Oh, don’t look so shocked. Girls can do it too. Difference is, we actually read the articles.

  What’s so awkward about this threesome though, is not knowing how much Jonah has told Christian about our history and how I don’t just know him in passing.

  Once upon a time, back when we were six and he moved in a few houses down from mine, we were actually friends. Pretty good ones too, until he hit middle school, made friends with all the other sports guys and well, that was the end of that. For a while though, it was a lot like me and Johnny.

  He might also be the first boy I kissed, but no one needs to know about that. It’s weird enough to think about and it happened like eleven years ago. Besides, from what I remember it was barely even a kiss. It was more like a bunch of sweat and drool mixed with hands tangling together in the summer before we turned seven.

  And with the way he’s looking at me now that I’m here with Christian in tow, a time he wants to forget as much as I do.

  “What took you guys so long?” he calls out when we start making our way over. “Movies about to start.”

  “This guy insisted on showing up in his dad’s cruiser, that’s what happened. No way in hell was I going to be driven to the movies in the back of a cop car.”

  “You never told me she could work parents that well, Jo.”

  “You sweet talked his dad?” Jonah asks, leveling me with a knowing grin.

  “Not really. I mean, I guess I did, but it’s only because the idea of showing up here with a parent, much less one that’s a cop, isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

  Christian’s face after hearing what I’ve said loses all traces of humor, which before I can react, he follows up with a shake of his head as he turns and starts heading toward the theatre.

  “What’s his problem?”