by M. Sembera
Trying to pretend the hug wasn’t as important to me as it truly was, I laughed, “So now you’ve hugged me. Feel better?”
Emerson’s smile was sweet as he concluded, “I think we both do.”
I couldn’t help myself from smiling. The thought occurred to me, aside from their money and position, the Roberts’ were just really nice people. Feeling bad now for thinking his mother was a little off; I decided to talk to him about her.
“Your mother is really nice,” I said.
With a curious look, he questioned, “My mother?”
Nodding, I explained, “Well, I just met her and she offered to have me over for dinner on my birthday.”
A slight smirk crossed Emerson’s face as he informed, “She must like you. Just so you know that is a pretty big deal. My mother is always very polite but she will put someone in their place quick if they don’t meet her expectations.”
“She said I was lovely,” I shared feeling proud of myself.
Smiling wide this time, Emerson asked, “Would you want to come back over tomorrow, Rennillia?”
Nodding, I said, “Sure but I have to ask my father.”
He nodded back, saying, “If you can I will come and pick you up.”
I nodded at him hoping my father would let me come over again.
The rest of the evening seemed to fly by as we finished our game. On the way home, I thought about how different Emerson was from Hert.
Breaking my train of thought, Emerson asked, “Why are you so quiet?”
Before I could think my answer through, I replied, “Sorry, I was thinking about Hert.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed.
Quickly clarifying, I said, “I had a lot of fun with you, it’s just he’s having some problems and …” before I could finish, Emerson asked, “Because his father left?”
I was startled for a moment then remembered; in a small town everyone knows everyone’s business.
“I guess,” I answered.
Almost apologizing, he shared, “I heard my father tell my mother the other night.”
Wondering how it was any of the Roberts’ business, I asked, “What did he say?”
Shrugging, Emerson said, “That he had left and that they should see what they could do to help.”
Nodding, I tried to pretend I wasn’t bothered by strangers talking about my friend.
We reached my house and even though I assured him it wasn’t necessary, Emerson walked me to the front door and then into my house.
Glancing at my father, Emerson greeted, “Mr. Cantinelli,” with a slight nod.
My father remained at the kitchen table, stating, “Emerson.”
Very politely, Emerson asked, “May I pick Rennillia up tomorrow around noon?”
Nodding, my father replied, “Of Course you can, my boy.”
Emerson turned to leave after saying, “Thank you sir.”
He wasn’t even a few feet away when my father pointed and mouthed, ‘walk him out.’ Giving a sarcastic smile, I complied.
Outside the front door, I stopped, saying, “I really did have a good time.”
Emerson smiled at me before he agreed, “I did too.”
As he walked to his car it occurred to me that although I had a great time, I missed Hert.
Walking inside, my short mental debate on whether to sneak over and see Hert, was decided the moment my father spoke.
“Now Emerson is who you should associate yourself with, unlike that boy. Be home by this time tomorrow,” he advised.
Somehow, I managed to keep my mouth shut and smile at my father as I headed to my room. Even if I had thought it was a bad idea, I still would have gone to visit Hert after that. How was Emerson "My boy" and Hert "That boy?" My father’s logic made me sick. As quick as I could, I pulled my dress off and threw it across the room. How perfect it must be for my father to have a daughter the same age as the Roberts’ son. Instead of allowing me the one friend I always had, he was associating me with the right people. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Grabbing my shoes out of my closet, I climbed out of my window.
Practically running, I made it to Hert’s window in record time. I didn’t see him at first. Waiting patiently outside until finally he stepped back into his room, I tapped on his window.
“Hey,” he greeted, opening his window wide.
I noticed a strange look on his face as I climbed in, saying, “Hey.”
Appearing nervous, Hert took a step back, asking, “What’s going on?”
Confused as to why he was acting this way, I said, “Not much, I thought I’d come by and see you.”
Nodding as he said, “Okay,” he sat down on the edge of his bed.
“So how is it with just you and your mom?” I asked expecting him to be happy.
Scowling at me, he snapped, “Fine, what are you doing here?”
“You know what? I really don’t know,” I blurted as I turned and climbed back out of his window.
Infuriated by Hert’s lack of enthusiasm, I started my walk home.
About half way to my house, I heard footsteps quickly approaching. I glanced back and saw Hert catching up to me. Determined to ignore him, I kept walking.
In a semi hushed shout, Hert called, “Renni!”
Quickly turning towards him, I blurted, “What?”
“It’s one thirty in the morning,” he said.
Giving him a stupid look, I spouted, “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t know it was past your bedtime,” before turning away and continuing my walk home.
I could hear him snap, “Then next time, stay your ass home.”
Fighting the urge to turn and yell at him, I walked faster. The closer I got to my house the angrier I was at him. The contrast between Hert and who I could only assume was a new friend, Emerson, was clear. Climbing back in my window, mumbling mean things about Hert, I really didn’t think about how late it was but still, did he have to be such a jerk? Walking through my room and into my bathroom, I glanced at the mirror and realized I’d better wash my face and shower before bed. After my shower, I curled up under my comforter and closed my eyes. Thinking about the no-dinner, dinner, at Emerson’s, I wondered if it was a fluke or if would be as much fun tomorrow as it was tonight.
Chapter 4
I woke up with under an hour to get ready. Dragging myself out of bed and into the kitchen, I started thinking of ways to get out of my afternoon with Emerson. It wasn’t that I disliked being there and before I fell asleep I was almost excited to go back but the idea of going back today was making me anxious. Thinking of excuses to bail on my plans, I watched my father sit down at the table.
“Aren’t you going with Emerson today?” he asked.
Nodding, I answered, “Yes sir.”
With a harsh tone, my father uttered, “Too much to ask for you to look nice two days in a row, I guess.”
“Guess so,” I spouted as I stood up.
Grabbing my arm before I could walk away my father pulled me against the side of the table.
Looking me directly in the eyes, he warned, “Boys like Emerson don’t waste their time on girls that give it away.”
Thinking ‘well of course, girls that wear dresses and fix their hair never sleep around’ I smiled a sarcastic smile and assured, “I’ll try to control myself.”
Pulling me farther against the table, he snarled, “Big mouth, saccente.”
Hoping I could get myself in enough trouble to stay home, I snapped, “What else am I gonna do with him? He has a girlfriend.”
Justified in his rage, my father jumped to his feet jerking me around to face him.
“So more than your mouth is smart after all,” he barked.
Slightly confused, I asked, “What?”
Holding my forearm so tight my fingers were going numb, he explained, “That’s quite a plan. There’s no way he would want you for anything else.” As the hurt from his accusation invaded my self-esteem, he continued sharing, “Do whatever yo
u need to but make it count. Otherwise you’re just another whore.”
My father slowly released his grip when there was a knock at the door.
I ran to my room before my father could see me cry. In my effort to back out of my plans, I somehow got the okay to trap Emerson into I don’t know what. I felt as if my father was saying things, as he often did, to make me feel bad about myself; however the fact that he actually thought I was capable of such a thing really hurt. I quickly brushed through my hair and pulled it up before throwing jeans and a t-shirt on. Sliding my shoes on, I walked back into the kitchen to meet Emerson.
I did my best to smile as Emerson greeted, “Rennillia, are you ready?”
Nodding, I refused to look at my father as I stated, “I’ll be home later.”
It took all my strength not to say anything back when my father cheered, “You kids have fun.”
I was somewhere between nausea and disgust as I walked out the door Emerson opened for me.
A few minutes into our ride, I realized, I should have brought a sweater. Quickly crossing my arms, I tried to hide the purple that was spreading across my forearm before Emerson noticed it.
“Are you cold?” he thoughtfully asked.
The sound of his voice comforted me as I replied, “A little.”
Reaching into the backseat, he grabbed a jacket and handed it to me.
I said, “Thank you,” just before he asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
Nodding, I replied, “I’m fine.”
“I forgot to tell you last night, I have a date tonight and I will have to bring you home before seven,” Emerson shared.
Suddenly the things my father said filled my mind as I asked, “Why did you invite me back then?”
His eyes were apologetic as he explained, “I wanted to see you again.”
Shaking my head, I blurted, “For what?”
With a confused expression that quickly turned compassionate, he said, “I like you Rennillia. You are…well you seem more sincere than most people and I thought we were friends.”
The tone of his voice made me feel guilty for expecting the worst of him.
The rest of the drive was silent. When we arrived at his house he opened the car door and then the back door for me.
“Should I tell your parents hello?” I asked as we walked into the kitchen.
Shaking his head, Emerson informed, “They are at an event.”
With a slow nod, I asked, “Is it okay that I’m here?”
Smiling he rolled his eyes and said, “Yes Rennillia,” before he asked, “Do you want to hang out in my room?”
Shrugging slightly, I replied, “Sure.”
I followed him up the stairs and into a long hallway full of doors.
Emerson opened the first door to our right. Allowing me to step in first, he quickly walked around heading to the dresser. Looking around, I noticed trophies and various photos of Emerson. Everything inside his room seemed to match perfectly to the black and gray bedspread.
“Nice,” I said, continuing to look around.
Pulling a long sleeve shirt out of his drawer, he offered, “This might be more comfortable than that Jacket, if you are still cold.”
Nodding, I took it saying, “If we’re friends you have to stop calling me Rennillia.”
With a slight smile, he asked, “What do you want me to call you then?”
Smiling back, I said, “Ren is good.”
“Okay Ren, I know you just got here but do you want to come back tomorrow?” he offered.
Taking a moment to think, I declined, saying, “I was gonna try to go see Hert.”
Appearing a bit disappointed, he said, “What do you want to do today then.”
Shrugging, I asked, “What do usually do on a Saturday afternoon?”
“I usually practice, free throws and my jump shot but we don’t have…” he started before I broke in saying, “Ok, I’ll play.”
With a speculative stare, Emerson said, “I already saw your arm, so you don’t have to have a heatstroke hiding it from me,” as he took his shirt from me.
Unsure of what to say, I nodded hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions.
We started out taking turns shooting the basketball on a half court on the other side of the garage. After a hysterical attempt at one on one, we sat down on the court.
Scooting close, Emerson placed his arm around my shoulders, saying, “I don’t think I have ever had this much fun with a girl before.”
With a smirk I agreed, “I think you should change the type of girls you hang out with then.”
More serious Emerson asked, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Glancing at him, I really did. The feel of his arm around me made me feel safe. It was almost as if being close to him would keep any bad or hurtful thing away.
Taking a breath, I replied, “Not really.”
“Okay then, can I ask you something?” he questioned.
Smiling, I said, “You can ask me anything you want but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer you.”
Smiling back, Emerson asked, “So is it true your father caught you and Scott in bed together?”
I couldn’t help finding the humor in his question as I replied, “No,” with a laugh.
Noticing his eyes question my honesty, I shared, “Hert was at my house without permission and my father did come home and catch us but we were in the kitchen washing dishes.”
Laughing, he said, “Man when you break the rules you go all out.”
“Yea, yea, and just so you know I am friends with Hert, not friendly friends, just friends,” I shared.
Emerson gave me a strange look before shaking his head and laughing at me.
As Emerson’s laughter subsided, his eyes appeared more thoughtful. He removed his arm from my shoulders and stood up. I took the hand he held out to me and stood up also. As we walked back into his house, we were still holding hands. Much like his hug from the night before, the feel of his hand around mine made me feel secure and protected.
Sitting down on the couch in the living room, Emerson placed his arm around my shoulders, saying, “So do you want to watch a movie?”
Shrugging, I said, “Sure, can I ask you a favor?”
As he nodded, I asked, “You don’t have to but since you have a date and I don’t have to be back until midnight, do you think you could drop me at Hert’s before and pick me up and bring me home after?”
Giving me an uncomfortable look, Emerson said, “It’s not that I mind, I do not want you to get into trouble.”
“So, is that a yes?” I asked, adding, “Then I can come back tomorrow.”
Appearing conflicted, Emerson sighed before saying, “Alright.”
Smiling wide, I hugged him. The rest of my visit was pleasant.
On the way to Hert’s, I thought about how nice it would be to spend to day with the two of them. They were so different and although I really liked spending time with Emerson, I missed Hert at the same time.
“Would it be okay if Hert came with me tomorrow?” I asked, glancing over at Emerson.
With a light smile, Emerson replied, “If that’s what you want.”
Nodding, I smiled incredibly pleased with the idea. We pulled up in front of Hert’s house and Emerson quickly opened his door dashing over to my side. He opened my door as I shook my head and smiled.
“You really don’t have to be so formal with me,” I assured, stepping out of his car.
He placed his arm around my shoulders as he shared, “I’m not being formal, it’s polite.”
With a brief hug, I cheered, “Thanks and don’t forget to come back and get me.”
“Eleven thirty, okay,” he stated as I darted to Hert’s font door.
It took several minutes for Hert to answer after I knocked on his door. He looked upset.
Taking a step back, I asked, “Are you okay?”
Without answering, he opened the door wider, allowing me to walk in. Glancing around, I
didn’t see his mother anywhere. Unsure of what I expected, I did think his house would be happier with his father gone.
“Is it okay if I hang out here for a while?” I asked.
Slightly nodding, Hert walked to his room as I followed. He closed the door behind us and sat down on the edge of his bed.
Narrowing his eyes at me, he questioned, “Does your father know you’re here?”
Shaking my head, I shared, “I was at Emerson’s and he had a date so I asked him to drop me off here. He’s picking me up at eleven thirty.”
“Guess the dinner went well,” Hert snapped.
Irritated by his attitude, I snapped, “Do you want me to leave?”
Hert stared at me until I said, “Okay then, don’t be like that, he’s really nice.”
“Yea, I bet he is,” he blurted.
Exhaling loudly, I informed, “Yea, he is,” before asking, “So how is it with just you and your mom?”
Hert’s expression changed as he scowled shrugging his shoulders.
I sat down on his bed watching him. Hert didn’t turn towards me and he didn’t move. Suddenly, I thought of Emerson and how good it felt for him to hug me. Stretching out on my side, I tapped Hert on the back.
As he turned to look at me, I asked, “You wanna hug?”
Shaking his head, he replied, “No thanks,” as he cracked a smile.
He scooted farther onto the bed, questioning, “So Roberts was nice to you?”
Nodding, I looked up at him, sharing, “He really is nice. I didn’t think I would like him, but it’s kinda hard not to.”
Changing the subject, I said, “So tomorrow…” before he stopped me saying, “Is Sunday.”
Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Well if you don’t have plans, come with me to Emerson’s.”
I watched Hert lay back, saying, “I’d rather talk about your birthday.”
Giving him a confused look, I asked, “Instead of coming with me tomorrow?”
Mirroring my look, he questioned, “Do you want to do something for your birthday or not?”
