“Congratulate me!” Allison demanded. We had told Emelia to meet us at Sally’s all-day breakfast diner on a Saturday morning. I had a craving for waffles. Emelia was late, but I assume that was because she fell asleep only an hour ago.
I half turned to Allison from where I was leaning against the wall in the booth. “Congrats.”
“You’re not going to ask why?”
“Dunno. Just figured you needed constant praise.”
“Fine.”
She looked down at her phone and I went back to watching the road in the direction of Emelia’s house. But Allison’s excited shifting didn’t stop.
I sighed and sat to face her, hands folded in front.
“Okay, I’ll count that as you asking,” she exploded. “I got a job!”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s it? Where’s Emelia? You’re boring.” She slouched back. “It’s just a server position right now, but just you wait, I’ll be cleaning dishes in no time.”
I quirked a smile—I know. I’m a big softie. I was probably thinking about all the freedom I would have now. “When do you start?”
“Monday. Hey, will you be there for my first day? You can be my first customer.”
“You just want to swindle a tip from me.”
“Would I—? Actually, that’s a good idea…”
“Yep. Definitely not going.”
She tilted her head to emphasize her growing grin. It was lost on me. “But you have to come with me. We had an agreement, remember?”
Ah, that. “You think I care about that?”
“Oh, so there’s no one you mind me telling?”
I raised my eyebrows, asking if it looked like I cared.
“Fine, then.”
“Uh. Should I go?” We turned to see Emelia, who stopped mid-stride. She would make a good ninja.
“No, save me from Dani,” Allison said. She has it the other way around. “Guess what! I got a job!”
“Oh, wow!” Emelia clasped her hands together as she sat next to me. “Where is it? How many days a week?”
Emelia seemed happy for her as Allison gushed all the details throughout the meal. It was strange to think that, in a few months, Allison would be out of high school. Things were changing. It made me fall into a deeper quiet.
My attention snapped back when Allison slapped the table. “But I’m gonna miss hanging out. So can we go to your house? Let’s party!”
As if we have ever asked permission before.
“Anytime,” Emelia said.
No wonder Allison has been more demanding lately. Emelia is spoiling her.
The checks arrived and Emelia reached for her pocket. “Please don’t,” I said. “I asked you to come here.”
If she ran out of money, we’d be forced to realize we couldn’t stay like this forever.
She hesitated for a moment before thanking me. If she agreed, she must have been running low.
“And what about me?" Allison asked. "We’re here because of your waffle quest.”
“Don’t you have a job now?”
“Man, I should have waited to tell you after,” she fake pouted.
I grinned. “As if you could.”
“Aw, you know me so well.” Allison attempted to bounce up to put her arm around my shoulder, but only made it to mid-back.
Waffles, it turns out, are a terrible thing to eat right before riding bikes. This was evident in all of our sluggish pedaling.
When we arrived at Emelia’s, Allison vocalized our distress. “I won’t make it. Dani, carry me inside.”
“Can’t,” I groaned.
Of course she knew I would say no. What neither of us expected was for Emelia to volunteer. She handed her backpack to me and knelt.
Allison was surprised for a moment before wrapping her arms around Emelia’s shoulder. “Thank you, dear.”
Emelia stood with ease. With her height, there’s no way Allison weighed more than a few sacks of potatoes. “Well, you’re a working woman now. You have to conserve energy, right?”
Emelia becoming more comfortable and joining in on teasing—another sign time was moving on.
“See, Dani, there’s someone who respects her elders, the working force keeping this community alive.” Allison attempted to turn and stick her tongue at me.
“Thanks, Dad,” I retorted.
“Of course. It’s my job to instill family values in my beloved daughter.” Allison attempted a deep voice. “Now where’s my coffee?”
I shivered.
Allison hugged Emelia’s shoulders tighter. “Did you get strong from playing basketball? I withdraw my disapproval.”
Emelia ducked her head. “You’re just really light—easy to carry.”
“You’re so sweet, Emelia,” Allison said.
And wow, so interesting what dark shade of red can shine through Emelia’s pale face. Should I look away or something?
Emelia set her down in the living room, near the couch, and Allison settled herself there like a queen on a throne. Our “party” turned out to be a typical visit with studying.
“I’m bored!” Allison declared with a dramatic flop onto the couch.
I looked at my phone—thirty minutes. Right on schedule.
Then Allison sat back up and grinned (never a good sign). “That reminds me… I have a secret to tell you. Listen to this, Em.”
Emelia looked up. No, wait, tell me Allison isn’t really going to—
I swear my panic fueled Allison on. “Dani is a terrible kisser. She completely lacks any skill. Tragic bad.”
I closed my eyes with the weight of annoyance. When I told her earlier that I didn’t care if she told anyone, I wasn’t lying. It just didn’t occur to me that she would tell Emelia. What was the point in telling her?
All Emelia said was “Oh,” but I could tell she was taken back.
They were both waiting for my reaction, but I shrugged it off because I am nothing, if not avoidant.
However, Emelia was withdrawn after that and avoided looking at either of us. What was she thinking? It was awkward but it wasn’t that big of a deal. Was she just embarrassed? —Was she uncomfortable with the idea? Emelia was so open and caring. I couldn’t see that being the case.
Wait, did she like Allison? The idea seemed absurd. But in some ways they would make the perfect pair. One likes to listen; the other never stops talking. One is very rational and composed; the other—not so much. Wish she would just say what was going through her brain.
Emelia was frowning in deep concentration at her history book and, whatever the reason, I wanted to find some way to lighten the mood. “Alli, can you lend me one of your clips?” I asked.
Allison tugged a clip holding down the wisps of hair that sprung from her ponytail and handed it over. “You’ll need more than one to tame your hair.”
Ignoring her, I took it and leaned over to Emelia while she kept her questioning gaze on me. “What—” She started to ask and then paused when I clipped the sparkly red clip into her overgrown hair to pull the bangs out of her eyes.
“There, maybe you can actually read now.”
I was hoping that she would return the banter, like I was starting to get used to—or at least tell me to hush or something, but she only sank deeper into silence, and we stayed in that awkward space until we left for the day.
I should have known better than to make a joke like that to someone who is so serious. The first thing I noticed next time I saw her were her eyes or, rather, the fact that I could actually see her eyes.
“You cut your hair,” I informed her.
When she saw that I was surprised, she lowered her head. “Y-you were right. It really was getting in my way. I had not thought about it because my mother usually cuts it.”
Her hair still came down on her forehead and swept to the side, but it was no longer encroaching on her face. It was a few inches shorter in the back, too. It made her look different—older, less child-like and vulnerable, somehow. Did she do it herself? No, it didn’t look bad. Still, I didn’t think he would spend money to get it cut.
“You keep staring. Does it really look that bad? I had a friend do it.”
She had other friends? Sure, she was starting to get to know some of the people around school, but someone she knew well enough to ask for a favor? Maybe it was too conceited to think that Allison and I were the only ones she had. She just seemed so unaccustomed to having fun with people. What kind of person would she normally befriend?
She looked as if she would crumble if she became any more insecure so I told her that it was great and tried to change the subject. She was still distant like she was on Saturday, though. I didn’t know what to say. I could deal with contention—that was what I was used to—but she became more quiet as the day went on. Since Allison had work, I couldn’t rely on her to make Emelia talk.
I was restless the next day. After a couple hours of staring blankly at my chemistry book at home, it was evident that I wasn’t getting anywhere. I tossed my textbooks back into my backpack for an excuse and made my way back to Emelia. I was tired of feeling guilty for something I wasn’t even sure I did. I was determined to either make her stop looking so miserable or demand that she tell me what was going through her head.
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