"So, I'm guessing the dance went well?"
Blake jumped back, startled. He'd been heading into the kitchen, expecting to make himself and Alex some bland cereal or toast. Instead, his mom was bustling around the kitchen, sizzling pancakes on the griddle, and his dad along with Alex already seated at the dining room table, the aroma of maple syrup and coffee filling the air.
It was the next morning, the beginning of the weekend, and their presence was a complete shock. "Whoa, whoa, what are you guys doing here?" he asked, his brow raised, waving his hands between them. His dad, already on his second cup of coffee, smiled, leaning his head against his hand. "Surprise!"
Alex, still in his pajamas, grinned widely from across the table. His mom, spatula in hand, pointed a finger at Blake.
"When you didn't come back early, we decided to take today off, too." She flipped a pancake with a practiced flick of her wrist. Apparently, his parents knew him too well, guessing he would have totally ditched that dance on his own if he hadn't ended up leaving with Emma. Blake slowly took his seat beside Alex, still reeling from the unexpected family ambush.
His mom brought a fresh stack of golden pancakes to the table, taking her seat beside his dad as everyone started to fill their plates. "So, you must have had fun last night? Did you dance with a pretty girl?" she asked, her tone teasing, but with a hopeful glint in her eye.
Alex, meanwhile, made a disgusted face, shuddering dramatically. "Ewww, girls are gross! Blake, I hope you didn't touch any of them!" Blake rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "You'll be happy to know, Alex, that I didn't dance with anyone last night."
"Why did you stay then?" his mom asked, her eyebrow raised in genuine curiosity. Blake looked at her, mocking, "I thought that was what you wanted?"
His dad watched Blake's reaction for a moment, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "He for sure ditched it, probably for a girl," he said, pouring a generous amount of syrup on his pancakes. His statement made his mom let out an excited squeak, nearly dropping her fork.
Blake coughed, choking on a bite of pancake. He got that she was excited because he never showed much interest in girls, but she really needed to calm down. "There is no girl," he struggled to say, putting emphasis on each word, wishing they would just drop it.
"She must be something if he spent so long with her without killing her..." his dad amused, then narrowed his eyes playfully. "You didn't kill her, right?"
Blake looked at him in disbelief. "Oookay, I'm going to go eat in my room now." He grabbed his plate and quickly turned, climbing up the stairs to his room as his parents continued their conversation about him and this supposed "mystery girl." There was nothing to talk about. There was no girl. Nothing crazy happened last night. He just saw someone having a bad night and decided to cheer them up... that was it.
***
"Mother, is all this really necessary?" Emma asked, her voice laced with barely concealed frustration, as she sat on the end of her bed. Her mother, a perfectly coiffed woman with a stern gaze and immaculate posture, had just taken Emma's phone off her nightstand, slipping it into her own expensive leather pocketbook.
Her mother crossed her arms, glaring down at Emma. "Yes, Emma, it is. Because you didn't answer any of our calls all last night. The reason we got you that phone in the first place was so we could keep track of you. I'm taking it for a week. I hope it teaches you a lesson. Now, what on earth happened last night? Why didn't you answer?"
Emma swallowed her frustration, forcing herself to look away.
Thank goodness she'd hidden Blake's jacket under her bed. If her mother would have seen that when she'd barged in this morning, Emma would have been in real trouble. "I'm sorry, Mother. I... I don't know what happened," she lied, her voice flat.
Her mother shook her head, a look of profound disappointment on her face, before opening Emma's closet and rummaging through the clothes. "And your father and I were waiting up for you. You didn't even come home before your curfew, and that boy was late picking you up. If he thought he was good enough for my daughter, he's definitely not," she stated, glancing over her shoulder at Emma.
Emma bit her lip, looking down at Tex, the pink cowboy bear in her lap. She didn't correct her mother about Chan never showing up, or about Blake being the one who actually took her to the dance. Her mother would just find a way to twist it, to rub it in her face, something Emma didn't feel like dealing with right now. "You didn't even come out to meet him," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but not unheard by her mother.
"And I wouldn't want to, Emma. It was clear even from afar that you're out of his league." Her mother pulled out a long-sleeved, floor-length navy dress, a stifling garment Emma hated. "Anyways, it's in the past. Right now, I need to find you a dress to wear when we go to my friend's house later today." Emma rolled her eyes behind her mother's back. She just judged him like that without even meeting him.
Blake was a really good guy. Also, how could her mother even call that woman her friend? They only ever got together to brag and boast about their children, and she always talked crap about her so-called friend to Emma's father. The woman was a know-it-all nag. She had a son named Jason; he went to a private high school and was pushed just as hard as Emma was, so that was something they bonded on when they were basically forced to be together.
It was clear their parents were trying to push them together, but she just wasn't into him that way. He was a nice guy, pretty quiet and stiff, but nice. She just didn't feel that way about him, not like she could voice it to her mother—she wouldn't have listened anyway.
Her mom sat the stiff navy dress beside her on the bed. "This will do fine with those black heels I bought you a year ago. Jason will probably compliment you." Her mom put her hands on her hips, a familiar, demanding posture.
"Now, I want you to go get pretty for later. I know it usually takes you a while to get ready. When it's time to go, I don't want to have to wait for you." Emma ground her teeth, looking out her window to hold her tongue.
"Or you could just go without me," she muttered under her breath.
Her mother's eyes narrowed, glaring a hole into her skin. "What's that, dear?"
Emma contemplated saying it again, but it seemed pointless. "...Nothing, Mother."
YOU ARE READING
It Started With Hello
Romance***** Emma Pear knew she wasn't the most popular girl in high school. Her nose was usually buried in a textbook, and her grades were as spotless as her reputation for always following the rules. "Nerd" was a label she'd long since embraced. Her pare...
