The Obstruction of Emma Goldsworthy

by Sean Kennedy

  At least things seemed okay.

  “HI,” TRISH said at the door of her room. “Come on in.”

  “You don’t want to do this in your common room?” Emma asked, already on alert.

  “It gets too crowded there at night, and we won’t be able to hear ourselves think over the noise of the TV. Especially if they’re watching Survivor. Phuong starts dry heaving if they have to eat something gross, and next thing you know it’s like a vomitorium out there.”

  The common room was suspiciously empty, but who was to say there wouldn’t be a mad rush out there once the chant of the Survivor credits sounded out down the hall?

  “You do know vomitoriums weren’t really for puking,” Emma said as she moved past her and into the room.

  “You always have the most delightful topics for conversation.”

  “And you brought it up.” Emma slung her bag down by Trish’s table. She thought it was an odd choice for decor, along with its two chairs, as space was really limited in the dorm rooms. Whatever. At least there wouldn’t be a ploy to try to get Emma on the bed.

  “Drink?” Trish asked.

  “A gimlet, please,” Emma said.

  Trish frowned at her. “Beer do?”

  “I guess if there’s no cocktails.”

  Uh-oh, the introduction of alcohol. Truth be told, it would make it easier for Emma to deal with her and far harder for Trish to try to seduce her. If this was the point of this, which Emma still wasn’t sure about, though extremely paranoid about it. Maybe alcohol was ridiculously stupid to have right now.

  But Emma still twisted the cap when the bottle was given to her, and she slurped a hearty mouthful.

  “Good?” Trish asked with a smirk as she skirted past the free chair and threw herself upon her bed. She kicked off her sneakers and settled on her side, her beer raised to her lips.

  Emma nodded. “Thanks. Okay, what do we need to do?”

  “You get right down to business, don’t you?”

  “It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so. What else would you be here for?” The innuendo was strong, unless Emma was totally misinterpreting it. Which Emma didn’t think she was.

  “Well, the beer’s not that good.” She tried to keep it light.

  Trish sighed and swigged her beer. “Okay. Let’s get to work.”

  EMMA WAS relieved to escape with her dignity and person intact. Once Trish had finally resigned herself to the fact that Emma was there to work, at her request, they divided up jobs that needed to be done and went their separate ways. Emma had to investigate cheap motels the team could book for the upcoming scratch match in the country. Yes, she was finding cheap, tawdry motels. The jokes wrote themselves there.

  All done, Emma texted Jess.

  Was it as bad as we thought?

  Nah it was fine, she texted back.

  She didn’t try anything?

  Emma hesitated over the keys. What good would it do to put Jess on edge, when nothing had actually happened? Concrete, she meant? Emma had resisted any kind of innuendo or come-hither glances, and she wasn’t even the slightest bit tempted. It would only worry Jess if she knew of the possibility of it all. What if she was wrong about Trish, anyway? Emma probably was just having tickets on herself. Now that she had a girlfriend—yes, early stages, but still, girlfriend—maybe Emma’s head was being turned and she was secretly convinced the whole world wanted her.

  Not that I could tell. Unless I’m particularly dense.

  If this came back to bite her in the arse, she could still claim plausible deniability. Would it hold up in court? Probably not, but she could try.

  Maybe you are, Jess texted back.

  Emma froze.

  A second later: ;P

  Well, thank fuck for that.

  Just as she stuck her mobile in her pocket, it sounded again. She hoped Jess wasn’t taking it back.

  Another text from Micah.

  Have you by any chance seen Kyle around? He’s not returning my calls or texts. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, and it’s driving me crazy.

  The drama never ended, it seemed.

  Part Three

  Chapter 12

  “LOOK, KYLE, I really don’t want to be involved in your drama. But Micah’s really worried, and now that you’re ignoring my calls and I have no idea whether you’re alive or dead I’m starting to get worried too. Grow some fucking balls and let one of us know what’s going on. Bye.”

  Emma jabbed the End button on her phone screen, realising she was much angrier than she thought she was. It had just spilled out in that call, which was the sixth message she had left for Kyle—not even counting the texts that had assured her they were “delivered.”

  “That sounded serious.”

  Oh, great. That was all she needed now. Trish studied her, waiting to see her reaction.

  “It’s nothing,” Emma said.

  “Sounded like something.”

  “Just friend drama, that’s all.”

  “You’ve got friends in high places nowadays.”

  “Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Micah Johnson, as usual.”

  “As usual?”

  “You were always running around after him when we were together, and two years later you’re still doing it.”

  Emma had better things to do, but she couldn’t back away from someone being snarky with her, especially when it was entirely unjustified and just plain shitty of them to do so. “I don’t run around after Micah. We’re friends. We do things for each other. Maybe you don’t understand the concept of having to look out for people other than yourself.”

  “Ouch, that was a bit harsh.” But Trish looked amused.

  “You started it, not me.”

  “Well, I don’t exactly blame you for keeping him around, especially as the media loves him. Helps you get onto magazine covers, doesn’t it?” When Trish said it, Emma thought she instantly regretted it. There was a moment when her eyes widened, and her lips parted in shock. Emma almost forgave her in those couple of seconds. People said things they didn’t mean in the heat of battle. There may be some truth to them, but they wouldn’t be said if it wasn’t for the anger behind them.

  The only question was, where was this anger coming from?

  So that was why Emma didn’t tell her to fuck off. It was also why she didn’t throw a truth bomb back in her direction, asking Trish if she did the same thing with her American girlfriend—use her for publicity and discard her once Trish got what she needed, like she had with Emma (except not for publicity, obviously).

  And Trish probably knew there were a whole lot of things Emma could say. But she turned and fled before Emma could say them.

  Coward. And for fuck’s sake, more drama she would have to deal with.

  THE PAST few days actually hadn’t been that bad, bar the latest in the Micah and Kyle saga. Jess hadn’t reacted badly to Emma working with Trish, although she now had to decide whether to tell Jess about what just happened—how many lies would Emma have to keep track of? They had gone on another two dates that ended in wonderful and beautiful sleepovers. No wonder they called it the honeymoon period.

  It wasn’t real life at all. It was the fairy tale before reality set in.

  But it was so bloody enjoyable. Despite Jess’s hang-ups about Trish, she was down to earth, cool, and a great conversationalist—and an excellent kisser—so time spent with her was the best. If only the world didn’t keep trying to break in and distract them before that time of bliss ended naturally. By which Emma meant she didn’t think the fun times between them would end, but just the honeymoon phase of “no worries” would.

  Her mind had too many thoughts to process, and they were all misfiled in the office of her brain. Long story short, Jess and Emma were fine, Trish was annoying, and Micah and Kyle were just… unclassifiable right now. They should have been happy too, even if it was their second time around. But Kyle was being flaky, which
was very un-Kyle-like.

  But Emma still had to track him down. If only for Micah’s sanity.

  The one thing Emma hadn’t done was go to his house. Of course it should have been her first port of call, but she had a life to live as well. It wasn’t like she was Veronica Mars and being paid for this job. She also had to fit in school and some semblance of a social life… okay, maybe Emma was a bit like Veronica Mars.

  She had only seen Kyle’s house once, and that was in the dark and only from the window of a taxi. She brought out her phone to text Micah, and he immediately sent through the actual address. Emma headed to her dorm for a quick shower, and when she entered her room to pull on her shoes, her phone was ringing.

  Micah’s face. Maybe he’d heard from Kyle, and Emma could go and see Jess, freed from her quest. Already dreaming of the fun they could have, Emma answered the call quite jovially.

  As Micah spoke she could tell he’d been crying.

  “Wait, wait, you’re going too fast, I can’t understand you.” Emma was already starting to panic herself—the fact that Kyle was “missing,” Micah’s state of mind—maybe something was horribly wrong here. But surely Emma would have heard around campus? News spread fast here—small town, small campus, everybody knew everybody or at least knew of them through somebody else.

  “I heard from Kyle.” Micah was holding it together, Emma could tell by the hitch in his voice, in order to get his words out a little more clearly. “He’s been fucking around with his ex again.”

  EMMA FLEW over to Kyle’s house like the Wicked Witch of the West in search of Dorothy. She might not like getting involved in other people’s drama, but this was different. Her friend had been hurt in one of the worst possible ways—although he wasn’t a complete innocent in this whole sorry mess either—and it was therefore her duty to defend him. She was soaring on righteous anger and prepared to take Kyle down.

  But Emma wasn’t expecting his expression when he opened his front door to her. He looked like he had the man flu—he was sweaty, pale, and anticipating the sweet release of death. His mouth twisted into a grimace as he stepped out to meet Emma rather than let her in, no doubt afraid of the scene that could be caused in front of his housemates. “I thought I’d see you tonight.”

  “That’s what you’re going to say?”

  “What do you want me to say to you, Emma? I didn’t do this to you. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “You did it to my best friend. You know how this works, Kyle. It isn’t your first rodeo.”

  “Let’s go for coffee,” he suggested.

  “You just want me in a public space because you think I won’t yell at you in one. I have no problem with public drama.” Sometimes Emma even believed herself, as she could sound so sincere.

  He sighed and closed the door fully, twisting the key in the lock. “I’m expecting yelling. I just need good coffee to go with it.”

  IT TURNED out coffee wouldn’t be enough. On the spur of the moment they ended up in a cocktail bar that was probably far too swanky for the likes of them, but they sought out its warmth and its alcohol anyway.

  “You’re buying,” Emma told him.

  He didn’t argue.

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he started when he returned with their drinks. Emma had found a relatively quiet corner booth where a heated discussion could be had with some privacy.

  “Oh, the oldest excuse in the book.” Emma sipped at her Pimm’s and lemonade. Micah always said she must have been a 1950s air stewardess in a former life, as her drink was so dated. “I just, like, tripped over while naked, and my dick went into him.”

  He winced. “Yeah, that wasn’t exactly what happened.”

  “Then what happened? How could you cheat on Micah in the very first week you guys were back together? Officially together, I mean?”

  It wasn’t just the light making Kyle’s eyes glisten like that. He seemed genuinely regretful, but Emma wasn’t going to let him off that easy.

  “I know it sounds like I’m making excuses—”

  “Oh, this will be good,” she said.

  “—and I probably am, because this has just been a cock-up—”

  “Nice choice of words.”

  “—from the very start.”

  “Hurry up. Just get to the part where you tripped over naked and accidentally fucked your ex.”

  Kyle glared at her, but he couldn’t really take the moral high ground. “He asked to see me, and I thought I should.”

  “Did you already think at that point you’d sleep with him?”

  “Of course not!” Kyle protested. “But I felt guilty and thought it was the least I could do. We had a few drinks, the talk was pretty heavy, I told him I loved him but I loved Micah too.”

  Emma had to hold back a snort of derision.

  “He asked me if I loved Micah more. I told him the truth, and he started to cry.”

  This story was just getting more and more depressing. Emma was actually feeling more sorry for Dick than she was for Micah.

  “So I held him, and we fell asleep on the bed. I woke up later, and he was kissing me.”

  “And you didn’t think to stop him? Because of Micah?” Emma didn’t know if she believed this part of the story. Kyle was trying to paint himself in a better light—maybe not trying to stoop to victim level, but he was definitely going for a victim of circumstance rather than a willing participant.

  “Technically, Micah and I really weren’t together together. We hadn’t seen each other since we agreed to get back together—”

  “You’d fucked plenty of times before that, though.” Emma let him know that she was fully aware of his and Micah’s entanglements.

  “Yes,” Kyle said quietly. “But it wasn’t official, so technically sleeping with Dick wasn’t cheating.” He was only trying to convince himself.

  “Yeah, that’s a great loophole you’ve got there,” she said. “I don’t think Micah sees it that way.”

  “I was upset. I felt lonely with Micah being away—”

  “It’s been five days. Couldn’t you have just had a wank, like any normal guy?”

  “Post breakup is a weird time. Surely you know that. The feelings are still kind of there with your ex—”

  “That’s the story of your and Micah’s whole romance.”

  “I know. We tried breaking up. It didn’t work.”

  “Or maybe this is proof that you guys shouldn’t get back together because you don’t work together.”

  “Wow. You don’t have to be such a dick about it, Emma.”

  She laughed. She knew she wasn’t looking that nice right now, but somebody had to be brutally honest here, and Kyle was only interested in lying to himself. “Kyle, you broke up with your boyfriend—who you’d cheated on with Micah—to be with Micah. Then you cheated on Micah with your ex. I think Micah is a dick for cheating on his boyfriend before he got the chance to end it, but you’re a double dick.” Emma had to choke back a snort, because the visualisation from that insult was too much. She looked up to see Kyle doing the same. “Don’t you dare laugh!”

  His face returned to its frown. “I’m sorry. And you’re right.”

  “Don’t say sorry to me. You’ve got two guys you need to apologise to. Plus your ex probably thinks you’re back on again.”

  “No. I told him we weren’t. We were still in bed… after, you know. He wasn’t happy. I told him I thought it was just a goodbye fuck.”

  “Jesus, Kyle, stay classy.”

  Maybe Kyle wasn’t the good guy Emma had thought he was—or maybe he was just a guy, doing normal things stupid twenty-year-old boys do. And Micah did shitty things as well, but Emma couldn’t help but feel Kyle and he should part ways permanently. No attempts at being friends, because that had led them here and not only fucked with their feelings but those of two innocent guys who deserved to be treated much better than they had.

  “You know, when I first met you in the woods, a couple of years a
go, I never thought that guy would be like this. I knew Micah was a self-destructive fuckup, but you?” Emma came so close to saying something she knew would break any kind of friendship between them, and probably affect her relationship with Micah as well. But she repressed the feeling that Kyle wasn’t a self-destructive fuckup. He was a selfish one. Maybe Emma had just never seen it in him before. Or maybe it was just a phase. She guessed she didn’t know him well enough.

  So she hoped Micah did. As they continued talking, Kyle said he was hoping Micah would forgive him and they could work through it.

  But deep down Emma was hoping Micah would do his usual trick and run. She couldn’t help feeling it would be the smartest decision for once.

  JESS WAS surprised to see Emma at her door. “I thought you were running around, saving love or something?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Not that I’m not glad to see you.”

  “Good. Just promise me one thing,” Emma said as Jess gave her a quick kiss. “Promise me you’ll never cheat on me.”

  “Wow! Where did that come from?”

  “It’s a long story. Let me in.”

  “You haven’t turned into a vampire?” She stepped aside, and Emma walked in.

  “You didn’t actually say no, so I guess I’m not.”

  “That’s a relief. Although maybe just standing aside gives a vampire enough permission?”

  Emma didn’t bite her, so maybe they would never know. She sank into Jess’s couch, thankful that none of her roommates seemed to be around.

  “So why are you asking me to be faithful? Have you finally found out my awful reputation?”

  Smiling tiredly at her joke, Emma told her everything that had happened with Micah and Kyle.

  “Wow.” Jess sipped at her coffee. She had gotten up halfway through the story to prepare two cups for them, along with some biscuits Emma had ploughed through thanks to the alcohol she’d had earlier. “Do you think they’ll still get together?”