It Started With Hello

Chap. 5

After they had been to Sonic, Emma gave Blake her address, and they made their way towards her home, which happened to be pretty close to their own house. Despite his usual distaste for most younger women and their incessant chatter, Blake found he didn't mind Emma's presence at all. She was smart, sometimes bitingly sarcastic, and even funny in a quiet way. Even when silence settled between them, it wasn't awkward; it was a comfortable, easy quiet.

As they pulled up outside her house, Emma nervously fidgeted with the take-out bag on her lap. All she'd gotten from Sonic were mozzarella sticks and a bottled water. Despite Blake telling her to "go crazy" and get whatever she wanted, she hadn't wanted to spend too much of his money. Besides, she was on a strict diet for dance, every calorie meticulously counted.

Occasionally, her glance drifted to his dash clock. It read 6:30 PM, a stark reminder that she'd already missed her violin appointment. Her parents would kill her if they knew. Luckily, her father's car wasn't in the driveway, offering a sliver of hope that at least one parent wasn't home yet.

She turned in her seat, facing him. "Um, thanks for the ride and the food. You didn't have to, soooo..." She offered a small, appreciative smile, adjusting her backpack strap on her shoulder. He merely shrugged, as if it truly wasn't a big deal. She looked back at Alex, her smile widening. "I'll see you in a few days, alright? I won't be your tutor for the next few days. I have a few other things I need to get done." Alex's face fell into a dramatic pout, but he nodded, understanding. "Bye-bye, Miss Pear!"
Blake took off his sunglasses, placing them in the cup holder beside the gear shift.

Emma looked back over at him, feeling a fresh wave of awkwardness. "Okay, um, okay, well, see you at school." She gave him a quick, awkward wave while pushing open her door. As she tried to climb out, her foot caught, and she stumbled. Blake let out a soft, low chuckle. "You good?" She quickly scrambled out of the car, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, and nodded furiously. Cursing herself for being so clumsy! She had almost fallen flat on her face in front of one of the most handsome guys she'd ever seen. No, she was definitely not okay.

"Good," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, a hint of genuine amusement in it. She speed-walked over to her door, stopping on the steps to pull her keys out of her bag. Before unlocking it, she glanced back at the black Mustang one last time, gave a shy, fleeting wave, and then slipped inside.

"Emma Aston Pear!"

The sound of her full name, sharp and resonant, made her sigh, the breath she didn't realize she was holding escaping in a rush. So, apparently, Mother was still home. Her mother stood in the hallway, hands on her hips, her expression a mix of worry and simmering anger. "I got a call from Ms. Green saying you didn't come into violin class today. I was worried sick!" she declared as Emma walked past her, making her way towards her room.

"And who was that dropping you off? What's that in your hands?" Her mother's voice rose, pointing at Emma's take-out bag and tapping her foot impatiently. Emma instinctively used the bag to cover Chan's phone number, scrawled bold on the back of her hand. The last thing she needed was for her mother to jump to wild conclusions.
Emma's mind raced, a quick lie forming to get her mother off her back for the meantime. "Um, after I finished my tutoring session, one of the teachers that was leaving asked me if I wanted to get lunch with her. I... honestly lost track of time, Mother. I'm sorry." She hung her head, letting her hair fall to cover her face, playing the contrite daughter.

Her mother let out a heavy sigh, looking to the side, her frustration palpable. "I called and called you, and you never picked up. Your father will be hearing about this. And on top of it, you ate unhealthy takeout food! You shouldn't be cheating on your diet just because we aren't around, Emma. How will you dance properly if you weigh 200 pounds?" Her voice grew louder with each accusation. "You know what, just get to your room this minute and practice your violin. Beethoven's Sixth Symphony! I don't want to hear a word from you the rest of the night." She made her point with a sharp stomp, then turned and marched off into the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans clanging following soon after.

Emma let out a ragged sigh, a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding. At least her mom fell for the lie. It would have been a lot worse if her mother had found out the truth. With that thought, she walked towards her room, closing the door softly behind her.
She reached for her violin, prepared to lose herself in at least five hours of practice. But as her fingers brushed the instrument, her eyes caught on Chan's number, stark against her skin. She sat on the corner of her bed, slowly sliding her backpack off and pulling out her phone. With trembling fingers, she sent a quick text to Chan.

Emma - hey it's Emma from school I just wanted to let you know I'll definitely see you at the dance my address is Ocean Street 463 I live in the orange house on the corner

Almost immediately, a reply popped up.

Chan - Hey I can't wait I'll pick u up at 8 dress pretty for me

She blushed furiously, letting out a small, muffled girly scream, and fell back onto the bed, clutching the violin to her chest. Sure, she was kind of lying again. Her parents hadn't technically agreed to let her go to this dance, but she would just have to convince them. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; she had to at least try.

A heavy knock rattled her door, just as she finished saving his number in her phone. "I don't hear Beethoven in there!!" Her mom's voice, shrill with impatience, pierced the door. Emma groaned, sitting back up, reluctantly positioning her violin in her arms again, ready to lose herself not in the music, but in the rigid discipline it offered.