Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Seventeen.

The semester is coming to a close, and that means I'm finally finding time to start writing again. :) This makes me super happy. Here's a sneak peek of the chapter I just finished for The Missing Piece, my current work in progress. Let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.

 Seventeen
 
From: Madelyn Potter <MadsPotter@gossipcorner.com>
Subject: You’re 17 wooohoooo!

Happy Birthday to you!
You live in a zoo.
You look like a monkey,
AND you smell like one too!

Guess what movie your brother has been watching non-stop? Brody can’t seem to get enough of Madagascar, ugh! He’s made me watch Marty’s birthday scene like a thousand times, you know the scene where the giraffe gets the birthday horn stuck in his throat.  Seriously though, how’s the birthday girl? Have any exciting plans for the night, besides missing me? I wish I could be there. I tried convincing my mom to let me come, but she went all Mama Bear on me like, Madelyn you can’t miss that much school, even if she is your best friend. So the people of Los Angeles will have to do.  
         Have you called Mas yet? I know. I know I said I wouldn’t bring it up again, but you really need to call him Em. He has a right to know, I mean he is your boyfriend.
So, Mark made me work a double shift yesterday AND it sucked! The store is like falling apart without you Em. Everyone is quitting, Melissa walked out the other day. It was actually kind of funny, she almost tripped on her way out. Other than that life is pretty boring. I go to school, babysit Brody twice a week, and work every other day. Although, Stephen has been paying particular attention to me in PE. ;) If only your parents didn’t send you away to boarding school, you’d totally be drooling over his Prince Harry makeover, I mean that hair! MM! Maybe, FPH will be my next boyfriend. :)
Well, I suppose I should write my AP History paper since I just spent the last hour watching angry cats on YouTube. Enjoy your B-day!

You suck. Come home.
Mads

FPH. Future Prince Harry. Nice one, Mads. I imagine Mads lying on her bed, her short pixie cut black hair adorn with Hello Kitty barrettes and her favorite thick-rimmed glasses pushed up her nose, as she flips through the latest English tabloid eating up any news about Prince Harry.
         And, apparently she doesn’t know when to leave things alone, especially when it is none of her business. Mads and I made up two nights ago, and she promised she wouldn’t bring up the whole you-almost-kissed-Ian-and-need-to-tell-Mas thing, but she keeps bringing it up over and over again. I mean, nothing happened, so do I really have to call Mason? Besides Ian isn’t interested in me, he made that pretty clear when I stumbled over him sucking his girlfriend’s face in the park.
         And, it’s not like Mason has tried contacting me recently. I haven’t heard from him in a month, and maybe that doesn’t mean anything, but it seems weird when he used to call every day. I know he’s in Africa, but is it really that hard to shoot an email saying ‘Hey Em, how’s it goingor ‘I’m thinking about you’? Anything would be better than the silence I’m receiving. Of course, I haven’t told Mads that we haven’t been talking but it’s not like she tells me everything either.   
         Whatever, I sigh, despite Mads constant nagging I can’t bring myself to call Mason first. He went to a different country and told me nothing would change between us, so shouldn’t he be the one to make the call?
It’s Saturday afternoon, and Liam, Calliope, Danielle, Ian and I are crowded in Danielle’s dorm room, studying for our midterms. Danielle’s dorm room still amazes me; band posters cover the walls, pictures of her friends—well I guess they’re now my friends too—are tacked up on her bulletin board. A picture of the five of us in front of Madame Tussauds wax museum in LA is tacked on the middle of the board. Her mint green and gray chevron quilt rests neatly on her bed, with a bowl of popcorn sitting between Calliope and her.
Liam’s tall, lanky figure is folded like a pretzel as he leans over his sketchbook furiously drawing a self-portrait of Calliope for his AP Art mid-term. He is sitting on the floor next to Calliope staring up at her every so often. His nose is so close to the paper that it’s covered in black charcoal smudges. Danielle’s black hair is pulled into a messy bun, her thick blonde streaks of hair are scattered all over the place. She’s flipping through a thick stack of neon colored index cards, laying on her stomach, and conjugating French verbs under her breath. Calliope is flipping through her Physics book underlining everything and only pauses to adjust her black-rimmed glasses and tousle Liam’s hair.  I’m sitting in Danielle’s plush mushroom chair reading Mads email, and Ian . . . Ian is sitting on the desk next to me, breathing down my neck.
He pokes me in the ribs and sings, “Happy birthday to you!” with that beautiful British accent.
Danielle, Calliope, and Liam look up from their studying with quizzical looks. “Today is Emily’s birthday, let’s do something.”
“No, really that’s okay.” I mutter tucking a loose strand of red hair behind my ear.
“Don’t you want a birthday cake?” Danielle asks putting her flashcards down on her bed.  They all stare me down until I answer.
“I don’t like cake.” I smile weakly, and stare at my laptop thinking of what I should say to Mads. I can feel Ian’s gaze on my face as I stare intently at my screen,
“You don’t want to do anything for your birthday?” Calliope asks. I shake my head no, but the truth is I want to be back in Ohio for my birthday, spending the day with Mason, Mads and my family. I’d rather not be stuck in Los Angeles on my birthday, or any day for that matter, not with the chance that my mother’s cancer could come back at any moment. But what am I supposed to do? My parents sent me to boarding school because I needed a fresh start and a chance to be a normal teenager. It’s not like they’d just let me transfer back to Fairview Lanes High during the middle of the school year, so I’m stuck in LA for the time being, with my new friends.
And, it’s not like I don’t like my new friends. I mean, they’re really great, but it just isn’t the same as having a Disney Princess marathon with Mads, or staying up until midnight with Mason drinking homemade Butterbeer and watching the stars, or making homemade pumpkin pie with my family.
I close my laptop and pull out, Go Ask Alice, the book I’m currently reading for Mr. Allen’s AP English class. Midterms are less than a week away, and I’m only on book five, and we need to have fifteen done by the end of the school year. But, since I’m not at home, and can’t hang out with Mason, Mads and my family, I think I’ll spend the evening inside catching up on some reading. The rest of my finals should be easy. I have to write five pages for my Natural Disasters mid-term paper, two English papers on books of my choice, and a 350-word summary of what I’ve learned from Life Skills.
“So,” Liam stretches and pretends to yawn, “What’s the plan?”
“Excuse me?” I look up from Go Ask Alice and raise my eyebrows; didn’t we just establish I don’t want to do anything tonight? I wait for someone else to respond, but when no one else does I shift uncomfortably in my seatt.
“Well, let’s not sit here all night.” Liam continues. “I need a break from all this studying.” Maybe, Liam is right. We’ve been holed up in Danielle’s room since noon; it’s now three thirty and I feel like all my motivation is gone.
Calliope chucks one of Danielle’s throw pillows at him, “I wouldn’t consider drawing a picture of me studying.”
“Babe, it’s all about the technique. You’re perfect, so I have to make sure this portrait turns out perfect.”
She smiles, tucks a loose strand of her curly blonde hair behind her ear, leans over and kisses Liam on the lips. “I agree with Liam. We should go out.”
Danielle looks up from her flash cards, “Yeah. That could be fun. Should we go to dinner?”
“Ooo.” Calliope leaps off of Danielle’s bed, rushes to me, almost knocking the popcorn over in the process, “I’ve been dying to check out the new Redwood Grille & Bar at Santa Monica Place, and we could catch a movie after.”
“Come on, Emily.”  Ian says staring into my face. “It will be fun.”
I blush. And because it’s him, my mouth answers before my brain can process what’s happening. “Okay.”
We agree to meet in the lounge, in a couple of hours, at six, so we all have a chance to freshen up. I’m sitting on my bed, finishing Go Ask Alice when someone knocks on my door. I put down my book, climb out from under the covers, and answer the door. Matthew, Baldwin Hill Academy’s resident assistant (RA) for the senior dorms, is standing on the other side, with a big brown package. I see Mads neat cursive writing and squeal with delight; I know exactly what’s inside.
“Happy Birthday, Emily.” He smiles and hands me the package. I rush back inside, and scan my room for anything that will open up the package. I find a pair of scissors, rip the package open and start throwing packing peanuts everywhere. “Yes!” I scream as I pull out Walt Disney’s 100 years of magic DVD collection.
Every year Mads and I celebrate my birthday with Disney, and this year she’s outdone herself. I open the case and pop the first DVD into my laptop. As the opening credits to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs fills the screen, a small bag with a pink bow falls out of the box. I open it up and inside sits a replica of the necklace Ariel’s voice gets trapped in and a note from Mads:
It took me forever to find this, and I just knew you’d love it. Happy Birthday Em.
I unclasp the Blarney Stone necklace that’s around my neck, the necklace Mason sent me, and replace it with the seashell necklace from Mads.
*       *       *       *      
It takes me ages to find something to wear. When I finally make my way down to the lounge, everyone’s already there. Even Ian, and that surprises me. He’s usually running late because of his girlfriend, Sarah.
“Alright,” I smile weakly, “Let’s get this show on the road.” I much rather be sitting in my room working my way through my Disney DVD collection and stuffing my face with popcorn. But, I’m here and it’s my birthday and Ian is smiling at me.
Did I mention that Ian is smiling at me?
He walks over to me “Glad you could join us.” His smile is as wide as the United States. “Cute,” he says as he reaches out and lightly touches the seashell on my necklace. “Like The Little Mermaid?”
*       *       *       *      
The band at Redwood Grille & Bar is strumming their guitars, screaming into the microphone and banging on the drums so loudly, I can barely hear myself think, but I don’t care. It’s my birthday, and all I can think about is the way Ian is staring at me.
    My palms feel sweaty, my heart is pounding, and I’m suddenly aware of the zit on my nose. I pretend I don’t notice him staring, but I can feel his eyes boring into my back as our waitress, a chubby blonde with braces, leads us to a table overlooking the Santa Monica beach.
         Redwood Grille doesn’t look like a restaurant, it’s more like a sophisticated bar. The band is playing on a stage surrounded with posters advertising Free Mic Night Karaoke on Wednesdays and the bartender is leaning over the counter top flirting with a brown-haired girl whose wearing way too much makeup.
         Liam, Calliope and Danielle all slide into the right side of the bench, leaving the two sits next to each other for Ian and me.  He’s been giving me the look ever since he saw me in the lounge an hour ago. You know, the look that makes you lose all sense of reason, stumble over your words, and forget where you are.  But, why is he giving me the look when he’s still with Sarah . . . and I’m with Mason?
My heart constricts in my chest, as he slides onto the bench next to me. His leg rests against mine, he doesn’t move it and I feel like I can’t breath. “So,” I’m trying to control my breathing as I glance at my friends. “What should we see?”
Danielle looks up and bites her lip. “Uh. I actually have to leave after dinner. Big French test tomorrow.“
Danielle is the only person I know who would take French IV for fun. She has been stressing about her Yale University application since the beginning of the year, rewriting her application essay every chance she gets and taking any electives she can. The school has the best French program, well, aside from going to France, and it’s the only school she’s interested in.
I doubt she’ll have any problems, though. Her grades have been perfect since she’s started at Baldwin Hill Academy­—this semester—she hasn’t received anything less than an A minus. The professors love her, and half of the staff has already promised to write her letter of recommendations, plus she’s joined like every club known to man; she’s on the yearbook committee, debate team, math club, and is running for senior class president. Seriously thought, she has nothing to worry about, and I’m sure any college would be lucky to add her to their enrollment list.
I mailed my college applications in two weeks ago, but haven’t given it much thought since. I’m not sure if I even want to go to college with my mother’s condition. What if something happens? It already feels like I’m walking on pins and needles, and that her cancer could come back any moment. I’ve applied to a few schools in the US, but most of my applications are for foreign colleges—I want to get out and see the world, but I’m not sure I can handle being away from my mom much longer. And, UCLA is starting to look better each day. I mean, that’s where Ian applied and maybe, just maybe we’ll end up together and maybe my mom’s cancer won’t come back, like ever.
Calliope clears her throat and tabs my leg under the table, “Em. It’s your turn to order.”
“Oh. Um, right.” I glance down at the menu one last time before making my final decision. “I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.”
“Okay awesome.” Hannah, our waitress, replies. “And, what would you like to eat?”
“Uh. I’ll take the half rack of ribs with a side of fries?” I say still unsure if that is what I want. Hannah finishes writing down our orders and then saunters off.
As soon as Hannah leaves, Ian stands up and clears his throat. My heart sinks in my chest, he’s probably heading off to call Sarah.  “I’ll be right back.”
Hannah comes back a few minutes later with our drinks and Ian is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe, he decided he didn’t want to hang out with me anymore? Is it possible that I’ve been reading into the signals he’s been giving me all week? I mean, we almost kissed and the nothing, nada, just radio silence, but I can’t blame him for that entirely . . . wasn’t I the one who avoided him after I stumbled over him and Sarah kissing in the park? And, yet I can’t seem to get over the fact that he almost kissed me. And, just moments ago his leg was resting against mine and he didn’t move it. Why didn’t he move it?
And, then there’s the whole I’m with Mason and he’s dating Sarah thing. Maybe I should just ignore our almost kiss and move on, isn’t that what a sane person would do? It certainly seems like he has . . . but there’s just something about Ian that I can’t seem to forget; those deep blue eyes, his one-sided smile, and let’s not forget that beautiful British accent.
I sigh and swirl my straw around in my Dr. Pepper, and glance up at Calliope and Liam. He’s whispering in her ear, she giggles and my heart throbs. It’s been three weeks since Mason last called me, and two weeks since his last email. I thought I would get used to having him gone as the time passed, but I just miss him more with each passing day. Maybe, I just miss the way we used to talk to each other all the time, how I could call him in the middle of the night and he’d be there by my side in an instant. I’m not really sure what I want, maybe I’m just too scared to make any changes in my life and take a leap of faith, when maybe that’s all I need to do.
I’m sick of seeing couples being cute together on campus, hearing couples declare their love for one another, and especially sick of seeing Ian with her. If everyone else is happy, why can’t I be happy, too? If I want to be with Ian, I need to call Mason and if I want things to work out with Mas, I need to forget about Ian. UGHH! Why can’t I just decide what I want and move on?
Danielle is busy flipping through her French flash cards, again, while Liam and Calliope are on the verge of making out, so I glance around the room. The walls are covered with paintings and photographs of old, rustic looking barns and buildings, a set of bull horns rest over the doors to the main entrance, and colorful mason jars hang from the lights. I look back at my friends, and notice Liam and Calliope have passed their making out urge, thank goodness; and are now playing Angry Birds on her phone.
“Have you heard anything else about you-know-what?” I whisper to Danielle. She’s sitting beside Calliope, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as she conjugates the verb défendre over and over again. Liam raises his eyebrows and gives Calliope a curious look. “Ian and Sarah,” she says quickly, as if it’s taboo to talk about their relationship. He shrugs his shoulders and lowers his eyes like he knows something, before he starts doodling a picture of the band on a white napkin.
Danielle looks at Liam before answering. “No. I haven’t. Why?”
Wait, does Liam know something? His face is blank and I can’t read his expression, but he seems to be concentrating an awful lot on his drawing, and he’s practically done.
“Just wondering.”
I glance around the room and notice Ian at the front of the restaurant. He’s talking to our waitresses; he smiles, points towards me, and hands something to the waitress. Okaaay? He walks back to the table nonchalantly. “So, what’d I miss?”
“Nothing, mate.” Liam says and then shoots me a look when Ian’s not looking, that says butt out, it’s none of your business. I feel giddy. Liam must know something! Why else would he glare at me like that?
Ian slides onto the bench beside me, and I can’t help but notice he’s giving me the look again. I glance around the table to see if anyone else notices and catch Danielle glaring at me. I know she has a thing for Ian, but nothing has happened yet and they’ve been friends for years, maybe she should just get over it. Crap! Um, maybe I should slow down, and take my own advice. I mean, I’m the one with the boyfriend; at least Danielle just has an innocent crush . . . but why am I lusting after Boy Wonder when I can’t have him? I’m still with Mason, he’s with Sarah, and if, if, they break up that doesn’t mean Ian and I will end up together, I mean, maybe he’s just a flirt and acts this way around all the girls.
The waitress comes to our table and starts handing out plates of food. Does it really matter if Ian breaks up with Sarah? Do I really want to break up with Mason, and throw away everything I’ve ever known? We’ve been dating since 9th grade, and that’s not just something I can ignore. Besides, maybe Ian is just friendly and I’m misreading his signals, like all the other girls at Baldwin Hill Academy. I don’t want it to be like this. He’s my friend, and I don’t want to be another stupid girl waiting for him to leave her, when everyone else knows it’s never going to happen. I mean, just look at Danielle. She’s been hung up on Ian for years and I mean, he has to know; it’s not like she tries to hide her feelings or anything.
I stare down at the half rack of baby back ribs and fries on my plate. Why did I order like the messiest item on the menu? What if rib sauce drips down my face . . . or worse a chunk of ribs gets stuck in my teeth, and no one tells me. I slowly unwrap the napkin holding my knife and fork, make sure no one is watching me, start cutting my ribs into sections and eating bites with my fork.
         My friends are too busy talking about their upcoming midterms that they don’t notice how I’m eating my ribs. Ian nudges my side. I glance up and he’s staring at me, again. “What?” I ask, suddenly irritated. He can’t just give me the look whenever he pleases, especially when he’s still dating Sarah . . . and I’m with Mason. “BBQ sauce on my chin? Ribs stuck in my teeth?”         
         Ian smiles to himself and shakes his head. “No,” he finally says as he reaches into his backpack, I didn’t realize he had it with him, and pulls out a small silver box with a big white bow on top.
          “Happy Birthday, Emily,” he says handing me the box.  
         “Thanks.” I breathe. He got me something for my birthday, when he didn’t have too, that must mean something right? I slowly untie the bow and lift the lid to the box. Inside sits the small elephant pin, I pointed out to Ian weeks ago in a shop’s window as we were walking through downtown LA. A lump rises in my throat, and I can’t believe he remembered. “It’s perfect.”  
         Liam smirks and leans over the table and snatching the pin out of my hands. He slowly examines it before dropping it back in the open box, ““Aw, Ian. How thoughtful.”
Ian flicks Sprite at him with his straw, and they both start laughing.
*       *       *       *
An hour later, Calliope, Liam, Ian and I walk across the Santa Monica Pier towards Santa Monica 7. The beach is packed with tourists in cute swimsuits letting their little lapdogs run around. The sun is starting to set. Shades of gold, pink and purple fill the sky and reflect off of the water.
“You know, they filmed Forest Gump here,” Ian says gesturing to the pier with his hands.
“Really?” I heard that films like the Hannah Montana Movie and Titanic, were recorded here, but I never imagined anything but touchy-feel-good chick flick movies would be recorded here; Forest Gump had it’s chick flick moments, sure, but it was more comedic than anything.
         “Yeah. There’s a Bubba Gump Shrimp Company Restaurant on the pier, that’s actually owned by the company that produced the film.”
         Ian is like a walking encyclopedia. He loves everything to do about history, and usually has a random fact or two stored in his back pocket, ready to pull out whenever an opportunity presents itself. I guess his love of history comes from growing up in a country that’s dripping with a history so rich, it’s starting to spill over the edge, like a glass of milk that’s a little too full. Sure, America has it’s own unique history, but nothing can compare to the deep history of England that’s been around for thousands of years, plus his random factoids always seem to leave me hanging in awe, always wanting more. I mean, who just randomly knows which movies were recorded on the Santa Monica Pier?
         Ian stops at a gigantic wooden carousel, with bright lights and painted white and brown horses, and then looks at me.  Calliope and Liam pass us, “See you at the theater,” Calliope calls cheerfully. Liam glances over his shoulder and gives Ian a knowingly look then nods.
         Ian winks and smiles “Make a wish.”
         “Uh, E-e-excuse me?” Why am I always fumbling over my words when I’m with him? It’s like my brain doesn’t know how to act around Wonder Boy or something.
          “Well,” he shoves his hands in his pockets. “After the carousel burnt down in the 70’s they had to rebuild the pier. The construction workers working on the carousel started a protest because they weren’t being paid enough and the city of Los Angeles shut down the project, leaving the carousel almost completely finished.”
         “What do you mean?” I ask, still unsure why we didn’t follow Liam and Calliope into the theater. The carousel is gorgeous; the amount of detail painted onto each horse makes it feel like the magic of the carousel is almost alive somehow.
         Ian shrugs his shoulders, starts walking around the carousel, and I quickly follow. “ Well, it turns out the city wasn’t able to hire more workers to finish the project and the city really needed the money from tourists, so the mayor balled up a bunch of plastic bags and taped them onto this horse’s back hoof, and now it’s lucky. So, make a wish.”
 “Uh.” Man, I have such a way with words. Maybe, I should be a poet.
Ian smiles again. “All you have to do is rub the plastic bag hoof.” He explains and points to the muddy brown horse’s oddly shaped back hoof again.
“Oh. Okay.” I mumble and start rubbing the plastic hoof. “I wish I—”
“Wait!” He rushes forward, “Don’t you know anything about wishes? You can’t say your wish out loud.”  
I smirk and push his shoulder. “Ian, I don’t think I’ll be struck down by lightning for saying my wish out loud.”
He ignores the dig. “Maybe, not. But I don’t think you should mess with the wishing fates. Just say it in your head, okay?”
I close my eyes and nod. My family, Mason and Mads flash before my eyes. What I wouldn’t give to be back home with everyone, or for my mom to not have cancer.
Wait, what am I doing? Wishes are childish and they don’t come true.
But maybe, if it’s something small . . . I would love to get rid of my mother’s cancer, feel Mason’s lips against mine again, or be back in Ohio, but maybe that’s too much to ask for.
So, what else do I want?
I want to be happy. I want to not be stressed about my mother’s cancer, or school, or Mason. And, then there’s the boy in front of me, who I can’t seem to get out of my head, and, I’m not entirely sure I want to either.
So what should I wish for? Something I know I have no control over? My happiness? Or the gorgeous boy standing right in front of me?
I squeeze my eyes tighter, count to ten and chant as I rub the plastic bag hoof, I wish for happiness.
When I open my eyes again, Ian is staring at me and smiling. “So, what’d you wish for?”
“You said it’s bad luck to say the wish out loud.”
“Just testing you.” He smiles and starts heading towards the theater again.
Calliope and Liam are playing games in the arcade as we walk through the doors. I’ve only been in the theater once, with Danielle and Calliope, and I still can’t believe how huge it is. Pinball machines, racing games and other arcade games line the wall, people wait in line to buy tickets and the bowling lanes are completely full. I glance at my watch, its 7:45; the movie starts in five minutes, and I cannot miss the previews.
“Uh. We should go get our tickets.”
“Already taken care of.” Liam pulls four tickets out of his wallet and flashes me a smile.
The theater is completely dark as we find our seats, well, except the yellow glowing lights marking the aisles. I duck into the third row and Ian follows me. The seats are deep blue, like the seats back home, I sigh this feels good.
 Ian looks at me, and then smiles, “Good?”
I nod. Today is the best birthday I’ve had in a long time. And I can’t think of a better way to finish it than watching a Disney movie on the big screen with my friends. The theater goes pitch black, the screen lights up and the previews begin.
I watch the previews intently. I love movies, especially Disney, but the best part is always the previews. I love hearing the audiences’ reactions for movies to come, and I absolutely love when anything Disney pops up. A Pixar short-film fills the screen and I can’t hide my excitement.
“Omigosh,” I whisper to Ian, “That looks so cute.”
He smirks, and then asks if I want the armrest. I shake my head no, pull my legs up on my chair and wrap my arms around them. The Disney castle fills the screen, the audience goes quiet, and the movie starts.
The main character Ralph goes to a BAD-ANON meeting with other villains from popular video games. He tells the group he wants to be a good guy, the ghost from Pac-man flat-lines, Bowser coughs up fire, Ian laughs, and I can’t focus on the movie playing in front of me.
I’m aware of every shift Ian makes in his chair. I can smell the mixture of his laundry detergent and cologne. He smells like vanilla, oak trees, and tide detergent. He moves his leg and it brushes against mine. My heart starts beating rapidly, and I’m certain no one can hear the movie. I glance at Ian’s hand resting on the armrest. His hands make mine look tiny.
I turn back towards the screen, and try to focus on what’s going on, but I can’t. Not when he’s sitting so close to me, and his leg is resting against mine. His hand is inches from mine, and I have to hold back every urge to grab it.
I want to touch him.  And, not in the playful we’re just friends way, but I want to really touch him. I want to lace my fingers through his, run my hands through his hair, and I really, really want to lean in and kiss his perfectly curved lips. He shifts, and, I get the feeling that he’s just as aware of me, too. I can’t breath . . . one, two, three I count as I take three long breaths. I force myself to look at the screen, and I’m surprised that I have no idea what’s going on. Ralph is talking to a little girl and making a racing car out of chocolate. How long have I not been paying attention?
I cannot look at him again. I bore my eyes into the screen and try my best to focus on Ralph and the little girl, but Ian shifts in his chair again. I peek at him through my bangs, and I’m startled to find him staring at me. I blush and quickly turn away.
Why do I find Ian irresistible, when I have Mason? I’m not the type of girl who cheats on her boyfriend. Am I just missing everything about Mason, like the way he calls me Emily Mae, how he makes up horrible songs for me and then sings them completely off key as I giggle in the corner, or how he lends me his sweaters for months at a time making sure to spray it with my favorite cologne, so it’s like he’s always there with me? Am I falling for Ian because he’s here and Mason’s not, or is this something else entirely different?
“Emily?” He leans over and whispers in my ear. My heart is soaring and I’m afraid it will leap out of my chest if I don’t calm down soon.
Focus, Emily, focus, I take a deep breath, it feels loud and unnatural like I’ve been holding my breath for the last ten minutes, and who knows maybe I have. “Mhm?”
“Do you like it?” Like what, his leg resting against mine? I can’t concentrate; he can’t be asking if I like his leg resting against mine, right? That just wouldn’t make sense. He has to be talking about the movie. I can’t speak, so I nod my head instead.
I risk a glance at Ian, and find him staring back. He’s giving me the look again and I can’t breath. I’m thankful for the darkness, at least he can’t see me blushing. I turn away first, and then I feel him shifting back towards the screen.
I peek at him one more time. He’s smiling, my heart soars again, and I can’t help thinking that maybe its time I break up with Mason.

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