“Go. Away. Ian.” I say, slowly and firmly, enunciating each word.
He mumbles something as Danielle shuts the door, but it's so soft I can't catch what he says. She rolls her eyes. “Boys!”
Can't live with them, can't live without them.
Chapter Nineteen
On Thursday as I walk to school I can’t help hoping the last few days have just been a horrible nightmare, but when Ian sits next to Amber Berkeley in American History my heart shatters. I stare at the blackboard, trying to focus my attention on Mr. Schmidt’s lecture on the French and Indian War.
Instead, I find myself absentmindedly scribbling Ian and Emily surrounded by little hearts in my notebook. I glance up at Ian. His fingers drum lightly against his desk as he stares intently at Mr. Schmidt. Amber leans forward and says something; Ian looks up and meets my gaze. He holds it for a few seconds, then turns away.
My heart pounds against my chest.
Why did I tell him to leave me alone?
At lunch I avoid sitting in the cafeteria, instead, I grab a Dr. Pepper and a bag of Doritos from the vending machine and hide out in the library. Mr. Allen doesn’t mind me eating here as long as I help him organize the books every so often. I don’t mind doing this; it’s actually quite calming. There are a lot of things that make me happy, but being in a room surrounded by books for an hour every day has to be my favorite.
I finish my lunch and head towards the circulation desk, to see what I can help with when I hear snickering behind me and freeze.
“Did she honestly think he’d be interested in her?” Chelsea says. She’s standing behind the bookshelf adjacent to the table I ate at. She has to know I’m in earshot.
“Seriously,” her friends snicker in unison. “She is way out of his league.”
I slowly walk further down the bookshelf and start looking at the different books.
“It’s not like Ian would ever leave Sarah,” Chelsea says her voice full of adoration.
My face flushes.
I run my fingers along the spine of a red book. It’s quiet. I glance up to see Chelsea and her posse marching towards me. “Well, well, well,” Chelsea says, “what do we have here?”
“Go away, Chelsea.”
“I heard you were trying to weasel your way to Ian.” She gives me a pitying look. “That just won’t do. He’s way out of your league and he’s dating my best friend—”
Why am I not surprised?
Sarah’s little informant would be someone here at Baldwin. Relief courses through me that Danielle didn’t betray me. Chelsea being my betrayer, on the other hand, doesn’t come as a surprise. She’s been nothing but nasty to me since I arrived in Los Angeles.
A sly smile plays on her lips. “If I see you take another step towards him—”
The last thing I need is another person trying to control me like a marionette puppet. I cross my arms and glare at Chelsea. “You can’t tell me who I can hang out with”
Her expression sours at my rebellious tone, her face forms a grimace. My back presses against the bookshelf as she takes three calculating steps towards me. “I’m asking you as nicely as I can. Leave. Him. Alone.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head in defiance. From the way Chelsea’s fingers tighten, I can tell she wants nothing more than to strike me across the face. Luckily for me, Mr. Allen walks towards us.
He glances at me and then at Chelsea and her friends, who bat their eyes and act as if they’d never harm anything as little as a fly. He arches his brows. “Is everything alright?”
I force a smile. “Yup! Chelsea just had a question about her geology homework.”
Mr. Allen doesn’t look convinced. He clears his throat. “Emily, would you help me with the returns?”
“Of course.”
Chelsea glares at me as soon as Mr. Allen walks away. “Remember what I said. I’ll be watching you.”
I stand there watching her figure retreat. I want to tell her I’m not afraid, but the truth is I’m terrified.
Chapter Twenty
Saturday afternoon Liam, Calliope, Danielle and I are crowded in Danielle’s dorm, working on homework and studying for upcoming tests. Baldwin Hill believes in testing their students excessively; they hand out tests like chocolate chip cookies. I’m pretty sure they’ve turned the phrase ‘pop quiz’ into a cliche.
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 in 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 portrait of Calliope for his AP art class. 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 giant 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.
“You’re going out with Cooper?” Calliope asks Danielle slamming her Physics book shut.
“Well,” Danielle beams setting her flashcards down. “It’s not official yet, but, yeah, I think so.”
“He’s so cute,” I say, glancing up from my emails. It hurts that there’s nothing from Mason or Mads.
My stomach churns just thinking about how things ended with Mads. It all just feels so surreal like an out of body experience I'm watching from afar. Almost a week has passed since our fight; I've tried calling her again, but whenever I do the same bogus message about a number change plays and when I tried messaging her on my various social media accounts I realized she had unfriended me or blocked me.
Mason is proving to be just as much of an enigma as Mads. He refuses to respond to my emails and phone calls. I don't know what I want to do.
Should I break up with Mason?
Suspicions and doubt run through my head. Again, I wonder if Mason has been dating my best friend behind my back this whole time. I bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut. If Mason can't give me two seconds of his time then that's on him, not me. Fickle heart or not, it's time I finally sort out my feelings.
Danielle doubles over, giggling at something Calliope said. Her laughter pulls me from my thoughts. Between her giggles, she says, “He has sexy movie star eyes—they’re dark and brooding and so mysterious.”
Calliope grabs a handful of popcorn. “You know, he kind of looks like a younger Chris Hemsworth.”
“Yes!” I shout enthusiastically, “I thought he looked like Prince Phillip at first, but I was wrong. You’re totally dating the Thunder God!”
Danielle blushes.
Liam covers his ears and groans. “Can we please not have Girl Talk while I’m here?”
“You could leave,” Danielle says, tossing a throw pillow with red hearts at him.
He wags his eyebrows at her mischievously. “Who’d keep you in line then?”
Then he turns his attention back to his drawing. The rest of us follow his cue and hit the books again, well, in Danielle's case I guess the index cards.
Calliope runs her thumb along a tear on the corner of her book and then lets out an exasperated sigh. She looks at me and asks, “Do you think Ian's been acting strangely?”
I swallow hard. “No, I don't think so.”
Even though I confided in Danielle and told her about the conversation I've overheard between Ian and Sarah I can't bring myself to mention it now.
“Huh, weird. Liam and I were supposed to double with Ian and Sarah last week and they
never showed. And,” she says, pausing dramatically. “The last time we hung out with them, Ian was a little pre—”
Liam clears his throat. “Cal.”
“What?” She asks, defensively. “He barely even paid attention to Sarah. It was like he wasn't even there.”
Blush rises to my cheeks.
Does our almost kiss mean something after all? Is he acting differently because of me?
“This isn't really—” Liam begins, but Danielle cuts him off.
“You know,” she says, shuffling her note cards together. “I saw them fighting the other day. I was going to stop by and say hi but decided not to as I got closer. Sarah looked so vicious and Ian . . . he just looked so hurt.”
“I'm staying out of this,” Liam says, shaking his head. Then he lowers his eyes and continues to work on his AP art assignment.
“What were they fighting about?” I ask, trying to make my voice nonchalant—like Ian breaking up with Sarah doesn't make my heart soar through my chest, but it doesn't work.
Why do I even care if Sarah and Ian are fighting?
I haven’t even had the guts to end things with Mason. No, I bit my lip, he’s the one that’s refusing to talk, not me. If he would answer my calls I would end things. I know I would because I am so sick of this back and forth, constantly second-guessing what I mean to him exactly.
“I don't know,” Danielle says, slowly, “But, whatever it was it had to be serious.”
I suck in a deep breath, my voice barely a whisper. “Do you think they’ll break up?”
Danielle shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe.”
Liam sighs defeated as he looks up from his drawing, a slight smirk on his face, like he knows a juicy secret, but doesn't want to let anyone else in on it. “You know, that’s something you really should ask Ian.”
I stare at Liam, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. What does he mean? Is Ian going to break up with Sarah? My heart gives a little flutter of hope as my laptop gives a loud beep making me jump. A little box appears on the screen informing me I have an incoming video call. Danielle looks up at the notification ring. “Is that Mason?”
“No,” I shake my head. “It’s my mom.”
“Oh cool.” Danielle walks over to me. “I want to say hello.”
My mom’s face fills the screen. “Hi, sweetie. How are you? Oh, who’s your friend?”
“This is Danielle,” I say, and she gives a small wave. I turn my laptop around. “And this is Calliope and Liam.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m so glad you made some friends. Have you heard from—”
“Mom,” I feel bad for cutting her off, but I don't want to talk about Mads or Mason right now. “I can’t talk long, I have to get back to studying.”
She nods. “Okay, call me tomorrow?”
“As soon as I wake up.”
She smiles, “Oh, I almost forgot Sammy has something for you.” Sammy walks into the camera, he’s holding a slice of pumpkin pie covered completely with whipped cream. A Mickey Mouse candle with a number 18 rests on top. “Happy Birthday, bug.”
Warmth rises to my cheeks. “Thanks, mom.”
Sammy smiles at me broadly and together with my mom starts to sing the happy birthday song off-key. I bury my face in my hands and groan. “Mommmm.”
Her laughter is light and carefree, but in an instant, her smile fades and panic fills her eyes. I can faintly hear the garage door opening in the background. She clears her throat. “Your father is home now. I—we should go. I love you, Emily.”
“Okay.” I blink back the tears. “I love you, too. Sammy, be good for mom . . . and Mads.”
He sticks his tongue out in response. I stifle a laugh and then end the call. When I look up, my friends are all staring at me.
“Today’s your birthday?” Calliope asks.
I smile sheepishly at them. “Yeah.”
Liam puts down his sketchbook and stretches. “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. She stares me down until I answer.
“I don’t like cake.” I smile weakly.
“Thin Mints? Death by Chocolate ice cream?” She asks, grabbing her keys and dangling them in front of me. “We can make a Walmart run.”
I laugh. “I'm okay with just staying in and reading.”
“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. I wish Mads and I were speaking and that Mason would return my emails. I’d rather not be stuck in Los Angeles on my birthday or any day for that matter, not with the chance that my mom’s cancer could come back at any moment. But what am I supposed to do? It’s not like my father would just let me transfer back to Cedar Heights High during the middle of the school year, so I’m stuck in LA 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.
If only Mads and Mason were talking to me.
I close my laptop and pull out The Perks of Being a Wallflower. This week school has been demanding and I haven't been able to read as much as I had hoped. Halloween is a week away and I'm barely ten pages into the book—not that the book is long—I’m just the type of person who'd rather have the assignment completed three days before it's due. So, since I’m away from home I’ll spend the evening inside catching up on some reading.
“So,” Liam pretends to yawn, “What’s the plan?”
I 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 seat.
“Well, let’s not sit here all night.” Liam continues. “I need a break from all this studying.”
I sigh, 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 whacks Liam lightly on the head. “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 and then tucks a loose strand of her curly blonde hair behind her ear. “I agree with Liam. We should go out,” she says, giving him a long, lingering kiss. My cheeks get warm. I turn away.
“Wow,” Liam says as Calliope pulls away. “That’s technique.”
Danielle gags. “Get a room.”
Liam winks at her and Calliope laughs.
“You know,” Danielle says looking at me. “It could be fun. We could grab dinner.”
“Ooo.” Calliope leaps off of Danielle’s bed, rushes to me and almost knocks 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.” Danielle says, “It will be fun.”
“Alright.”
We agree to meet in the lounge at six, so we all have a chance to freshen up. I gather my books and laptop and then walk down the hallway to my dorm. I haven’t heard from Mason since my geology field trip to Runyon Canyon, and then when I tried calling him back later that evening he ignored me.
The first few months of separation and Mads talking to him behind my back put a major strain on our relationship, but I can’t keep from feeling hopeful that things will go back to normal as I sign into my Disney Freaks account.
After all, it is my birthday.
He’s bound to wish me a happy one, right?
Excitement courses through my veins as I scan my unread emails and notice one from Mason. By the second line though, I
know this isn’t the birthday wish I was hoping for. In fact, it’s not even an email I’d wish upon my worst enemy.
Emily,
I’ve taken some time before writing back. After receiving your last email I was concerned about your lack of commitment to our relationship. Since I’ve been gone I’ve been giving our relationship a lot of thought—especially after receiving your latest email—and it has come to my concern that you’re incapable of maintaining the level of commitment I deserve.
I’m not even gone for two months and you’re already ignoring my calls to flirt with other guys? What the hell has gotten into you? I’m your boyfriend, not this chum you’re out all hours of the night doing God knows what with. Until you can commit yourself to me, I think it’s best to take a break from our relationship and each other.
It will give us both time to think and then when I return for Christmas we can determine if we want the same things, or if it’s best to make this separation permanent.
I’m sure you can agree with what I’ve said. It’s the best solution for both of us.
Mason
I read the email once, then again, certain the words have jumbled across the screen. This doesn’t sound like Mason. What does he mean I haven’t been taking our relationship seriously? I’ve been trying to contact him for the past two months and he never responds to my calls, emails or snaps.
What else more does he expect me to do? Sit in my room alone, while he’s out living it up in Africa? Is this what I get for trying to make things right? I unclasp the Blarney Stone necklace from around my neck.
Mason can go to hell.
I push my chair away from my desk. If he wants to take a break, fine. It’s not like there’s been much to our relationship as of late anyway. I shut my laptop, before hopping into my black skinny jeans, then I slip into my lacy black tank top and start buttoning up my coral polka dot shirt. Before leaving, I glance over myself quickly in the mirror and add just a dab of red lipstick to my lips. Mason may not want to be with me anymore, but I’m not going to let that ruin my birthday.
The Missing Piece Page 13
