by M. Sembera
“You know there is a game this Friday,” Emerson said, giving me a please wear it look.
Stuffing my clothes into my bag, I replied, “Yes Em,” hoping he would leave it at that.
With a light sigh, he gave up asking, “Are you ready?” as I zipped up my bag.
Nodding, I started to pick up my bag. Emerson gave me a ‘don’t even think about it’ glare and took my bag from me. I shook my head and laughed with a little, ‘I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this?’ thought. He was definitely raised right. Emerson was thoughtful and polite without having to think about it, like it was bred into him. He did what he was told and what he was supposed to do. Always understanding, he never raised his voice and at this point, I knew I would be devastated if I lost him.
Walking through my house, Emerson and I stopped in the kitchen to let my father know I was leaving. I wanted to make a face when he said ‘you two have a good time’, but instead I politely smiled so we could leave. Emerson gave a nod and polite smile also before opening the door for me as we left. He carefully placed my bag in his trunk and then we were on our way.
Half way to his house, I couldn’t help asking, “So is your girlfriend mad that I’m staying with you?”
Smiling to himself, Emerson replied, “Would it matter to you if she was?”
“Not really, I was just curious,” I assured.
With a slight laugh, he said, “No, she just said as long as I understand once we get married…” I couldn’t let him finish, blurting, “You’re getting married?!”
“Well not tomorrow but we have talked about it,” he explained with a sigh.
Horrified at the thought, I questioned, “Why would you want to do that?”
Quick to reply, he asked, “Why wouldn’t I?”
Shaking my head at him, I fussed, “That’s not an answer.”
“Ren, most people plan on growing up and getting married,” he answered before sharing, “She loves me.”
“She loves you or the fact that you’re Emerson Roberts?” I spitefully questioned.
Frowning, he said, “That’s not very nice.”
A sudden attack of guilt made me apologize, “I’m sorry, I just think you have so much more to offer than your name.”
“I love you Ren but you don’t know her like I do,” he imparted.
Nodding, I couldn’t believe what I just heard. First of all, I did know her and girls like Helena only cared about what was on the surface. That wasn’t shocking to me and it made sense that Em couldn’t tell the difference. What caught me by surprise was that he said he loved me.
The rest of the way to his house, I couldn’t say anything. No one had ever said they loved me, not even as a thoughtless comment. It was only eight o’clock when we arrived. I followed him up to his room wondering what, if anything, I should say.
Emerson set my bag on the chair by his bed, offering, “The guest room is next door.”
Staring at him, I nodded.
He looked confused as he asked, “Did you want to sleep in my room?”
Shrugging, I could see how that would be out of line, but still, that wasn’t my issue.
With a heavy sigh, Em placed his arm around my shoulders, saying, “I do not want to start the week off with you mad at me. This is supposed to be fun.”
Looking up at him, I swore, “I’m not mad at you.”
There was a thoughtful look in his eyes as he asked, “Then what’s wrong?”
Taking a breath, I confessed, “You said you love me.”
“I do” he said before asking, “Don’t you love me?”
Nodding, I wrapped my arms around his sides and hugged him tight.
Sitting on Emerson’s bed in my pajamas, we talked and laughed as it got later and later. The issue of where to sleep stayed at the back of my mind. Unsure of how to approach the subject, I didn’t want it to come off as wanting to do more than just sleep. As it turned out, I didn’t have to bring it up at all. Emerson stretched out on his side of the bed.
He asked, “Are you staying in here?”
“Is that okay?” I questioned.
Pulling the covers on the opposite side back, he smiled softly. Mimicking his smile, I slid under them. Pulling the comforter around myself, I rolled onto my side with my back to him. Emerson, still on top of the comforter on his side, placed his arm over me.
Kissing the back of my head, he whispered, “Goodnight, I love you.”
Nodding into my pillow, I assured, “Night, I love you, too.”
Slowly closing my eyes, I felt more comfortable and relaxed than I had in my entire life as I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 10
We stayed up late talking every night but I slept so good, I wasn’t even tired in the mornings. Before I knew it, it was Friday. The Roberts would be back on Monday so all I had left was the weekend. It was so nice staying with Em. The best part was, at his house, we were in our own little world. Hert had missed the last two days of school. I left right after lunch to go check on him. Emerson dropped me off, informing me that he was picking me up right after school. It turned out, Hert was sick. I was happy he didn’t complain that much about me stopping by and staying. After making him soup and forcing him to take cold medicine, I left a glass of orange juice by his bed.
Opening the front door with a smile, I noticed an unhappy expression on Emerson’s face as he looked me up and down.
“Why won’t you wear the shirt I got you to wear on game nights?” he asked.
Smiling wide, I shared, “Because I already told you, it was sweet of you to get it for me but I’m never gonna wear it.”
Almost pouting, he pressed, “But it has my number on the back.”
“And that’s why it’s hanging on my wall,” I chirped closing the door.
With a sigh he held my hand and walked me to his car.
“How is Hert?” he asked.
Shaking my head, I answered, “He should be good now. It took forever but I finally got him take medicine.”
Reviving the whole game shirt discussion, Em offered, “You know, we are right by your house, we could stop and get your shirt.”
Making a face at him, I said, “No thanks, I’m good.”
Opening the door for me like always, he closed it behind me once I slid in.
On the way to the game the car ride was fairly quiet. Assuming I had upset him, I agreed when he offered to let me wear his jacket. We pulled up at the school and he parked the car. Emerson handed me the keys to his car.
Giving him a confused look, I asked, “What are these for?”
Smiling softly, he replied, “Helena went with her parents to visit family for the weekend. I thought you and I could go eat after the game. I brought a change of clothes, so I am going to shower before we go. I thought you might want to wait in the car instead of hanging around outside the locker room.”
“Sounds good,” I said, returning his smile.
Emerson seemed in a much better mood as we walked hand in hand into the gym. I gave him a big good luck hug just before he headed to the locker room. I found a place to sit in the stands, that wasn’t too crowded and waited for the game to start.
I honestly didn’t care for basketball. However, it made me sad that no one ever came to see Em play. Being a loyal friend and Emerson’s number one fan, I cheered every time he had the ball. It was one of the last games of the season and they won by two points. Happy for him, I left the bleachers to congratulate him. Catching up to him, he hugged me and I told him to hurry so we could celebrate his seventh win before I headed out to the parking lot.
Almost at the exit door, I was nudged and heard a voice say, “I think you left this.”
Caught off guard by a guy behind an incredible smile, I blurted, “HUH?”
Laughing at me, he handed me a piece of paper, saying, “You left this.”
Confused, I took it and said, “I don’t think this is mine.”
Flashing his amazing smile at me again, he quest
ioned, “You’re Ren, right?”
Nodding, I said, “Yea, but…” before he cut me off, saying, “Then this is definitely yours.”
Baffled, I watched him walk away. I opened the folded piece of paper. It had the name Jackson and a phone number written on it. I quickly glanced up as he turned back smiling before he winked at me. I couldn’t help smiling in return.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Emerson’s car, I waited for him to come out. While I waited, I smiled to myself thinking of Jackson’s smile. I knew who he was. Jackson Thomas had quite a reputation with the girls at my school. I had heard his name from time to time but this was the first time I had actually seen him. There was no way I was going to call him. However, that smile of his seemed to stick in my mind. Honestly, I was a bit smitten. The longer I dwelled on that smile, the happier it made me. By the time Emerson made it to the car, I was smiling uncontrollably.
Emerson drove us to a popular little place to eat. After we were seated and waited on, I looked up from our table and saw Jackson walk in with his arm around some girl. The second I saw him, I looked down at the table and smiled.
“What?” Emerson asked.
Shaking my head, I continued to smile, saying, “I met Jackson earlier.”
Nodding at me, he shared, “I figured he would catch up to you sooner or later. He’s been asking about you.”
I felt a smile spread wide across my face as I asked, “Really?”
“Do you like him?” he questioned.
Still smiling, I rolled my eyes and fibbed, “Please, I don’t even know him.”
Thankfully our food arrived before I had to admit anything.
It just so happened, Jackson’s table was two tables away from ours and the girl with him, was seated with her back to us. As I ate, I took the opportunity to sneak little peaks at Jackson, who was seated in full view of us. I could tell he was full of himself. Every movement he made exuded confidence and rightfully so. He knew he was cute and it showed. Before I knew it, I was in the habit of glancing over at him every few seconds until our meal was over. Emerson paid the check and we started to leave. As Emerson and I walked toward the door, I glanced back one more time at Jackson. This time he caught me. Smiling wide at me, he stood up from his table. I could feel my face turning red knowing he was headed our way.
Jackson patted Emerson on the back, saying, “Hey man. Practice tomorrow at your house.”
“About one would be great,” Emerson agreed.
Turning to me, Jackson asked, “Then dinner at seven?”
Shaking my head at him, I asked, “Are you seriously asking me out with your girl right there?” pointing to his date.
Jackson’s smile beamed as he informed, “I’m asking you right in front of your boy.”
I watched Emerson smile while shaking his head at us.
“Emerson’s not my boy, we’re just friends,” I stated.
With a convincing smile, Jackson countered, saying, “And she’s not my girl, we’re just on a date.”
I couldn’t hold back my smile as I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him.
With a little sigh, Jackson seemed to give up but not before nudging me, quickly kissing me on the cheek and saying, “Maybe next time.”
Not wanting him to see my reaction, I stared at Emerson as Jackson walked back to his date.
On the way back to Emerson’s house, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jackson. I mean really, what kind of guy gives me his number, instead of asking for mine? Asks me out while he’s already on a date? Then has the nerve to kiss me?
Interrupting my thoughts, Em asked, “Are you thinking about Jackson?”
“Maybe a little,” I admitted.
I could hear the smile in his voice as he questioned, “So are you going to go out with him?”
Shrugging, I replied, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve heard about him. He kinda has a reputation, ya know.”
“Look at you, judging people before you get to know them,” Emerson laughed.
Feeling a little guilty at the truth in his accusation, I asked, “So you’re saying I should go out with him?”
Giving me a strange look, he replied, “He’s an alright guy. The only negative thing I would warn you about is that he has a one date rule.”
“What’s a one date rule?” I questioned.
Slightly hesitant, he explained, “He only takes a girl out once.”
“Why?” I asked.
Giving me a polite smile, Emerson shared, “Because once is all it takes.”
At first, I didn’t understand then as I watched his expression, I got it.
Back at Emerson’s house, I put my pajamas on before stepping back into his room. I sat on his bed waiting for Em to take his turn changing in the bathroom. I couldn’t help being disappointed. I only had one rule I held myself accountable to and it appeared as though, Jackson’s one rule was the opposite of mine. As Emerson stepped out of the bathroom, I gave him a half-hearted smile. He climbed in bed and gave me a concerned look.
Sliding under the covers, I shared, “I won’t be going out with Jackson.”
Giving me a sweet smile, Emerson said, “It will be his loss, not yours.”
Smiling back, I snuggled close before falling asleep.
Chapter 11
Barely opening my eyes, I rolled over and noticed Emerson wasn’t in the room. I glanced at the clock and realized I slept late. Even though I decided it would be a bad idea to go out with Jackson, I still wanted to look cute when he arrived. I hopped out of bed and skipped to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I stepped back into Em’s room to find my bag. Finding it sitting on the chair by his dresser, I unzipped it, grabbed a hair thing and my brush.
I shouted, “I’m dressed,” when there was a knock on his bedroom door.
Expecting Emerson, I was horrified when Jackson walked in instead.
Smiling wide, Jackson greeted, “Hey,” before asking, “You wanna come watch us practice?”
Standing there, with what I’m sure was a mortified expression I blurted, “Okay,” and rushed back to the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, I sighed wishing I could have at least brushed my hair before seeing him again.
After I was dressed and presentable, I headed down the stairs. Walking through the kitchen, I declined breakfast from the Roberts' housekeeper Fidora and stepped outside. I could hear Jackson and Emerson talking as I made my way around the garage.
Deciding to eavesdrop a little, I heard, Emerson say, “She didn’t say anything to me.”
Then Jackson laughed, “I can’t believe she didn’t say yes.”
Wondering if they were talking about me, I continued listening.
Emerson laughed back, informing, “She’s different. You can’t charm her into anything.”
“She likes me,” Jackson insisted.
Laughing again, Emerson said, “Whatever you say.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t have gotten outta bed this morning,” Jackson assured before saying, “She’s just so damn cute.”
Wanting to embarrass Jackson for that little bed comment, I walked around the corner asking, “Who’s just so damn cute?”
Without skipping a beat, Jackson smiled wide and winked, replying, “You.”
My eyes were wide and I could feel my face turning red as I walked to the side of the court and sat down.
I watched them practice for about an hour before they took a break. The three of us walked inside to have lunch. Fidora was giving me a strange smile, tilting her head towards Jackson as she handed me my plate.
As I sat down at the table, Jackson asked, “What do you like to do?” clarifying, “When you’re not hanging out with Roberts that is,” with a laugh.
Trying to think quickly, I realized I really didn’t do anything else aside from visiting Hert and making my father mad.
Shrugging my shoulders, I replied, “Just regular stuff.”
Fl
ashing his smile at me, Jackson said, “Okay,” as he shook his head.
That was the third time I was tongue tied around him. Quietly taking a bite of my sandwich, I decided to make it my personal mission for the day to get the best of him.
Raising and eyebrow, I asked, “So, what do you like to do?” clarifying, “Aside from what your known for that is.”
Emerson almost choked on his water before saying, “I am going to go take a shower,” and got up from the table shaking his head at me.
Jackson smiled wide before questioning, “And what is it that I’m known for?”
Mentally shouting ‘damn it,’ I gave a smirk, replying, “Your dates are sorta infamous.”
Nodding, he shared, “Well, outside of dating, there’s basketball.”
“That’s all?” I questioned, hoping to covey a ‘not impressed’ vibe.
Giving me a strange look, he replied, “I have an academic scholarship for college.”
Curious, I asked, “I thought you were a junior?”
“I’m in the honors program,” he informed.
Tilting my head to the side, I said, “I didn’t know that.”
Jackson appeared uncomfortable and I was intrigued.
There were only about fifteen students at my school in the honors program. These select students, not only ranked highest at our school, were amongst the highest in the state. Their classes were in an entirely different building from everyone else’s and half of their day was divided between our school and the local college.
“So how did you get in?” I questioned, suddenly fascinated with him.
Relaxing a bit, Jackson explained, “I was picked after one of my teachers suggested I take the test.”
“Humh, I didn’t know you were so smart,” I thought out loud.
Smiling wide, he shared, “Yea, I’m just good at tests because it’s easy for me to memorize stuff.”
“Do you have a photographic memory or something like that?” I asked.
Shrugging, he corrected, “It’s actually called an eidetic memory because it’s not just things I see, there’s a bunch of big words that explain it but to be honest it’s not a big deal.”
