"Mom, I told you I had a good time, even though the dance was trash. What more do you need to know?" Blake let out a small laugh, leaning back on the couch beside his mom, who watched him with an unyielding curiosity. Alex lay on the ground, engrossed in a game of Mario Kart with his dad. Both his parents were home today, making this weekend start off well—if only his mother would let this 'dance thing' go. She hadn't stopped since this morning, continually trying to pry out why he'd stayed out so late, and it was getting incredibly old to Blake.
She bit her lip, tilting her head to the side. "So, nothing happened then? But you didn't come back until so late?"
He sighed, leaning his head back, which made Alex snicker. Blake turned, facing his mom, taking both her hands in his. "I didn't ditch the dance; it was just lame. So there's really nothing to tell, Mom." He could tell just by looking at her that she didn't believe him. He let out a dramatic sigh. "Buuuut..."
His dad called back over his shoulder, his eyes still glued to the TV. "Let it go, Nicole. If he doesn't want to tell us about his drug and orgy-filled night, he doesn't have to." Blake's dad looked back at them, bursting out laughing at Blake's disgusted face, which mirrored his mom's horrified expression.
Alex threw his controller to the ground, grinning triumphantly. "Beat you again, old man! Also, what's an orgy?"
His dad just rolled on the ground, laughing hysterically, while Alex sat watching him, utterly confused.
"Andy, stop laughing! My baby boy knows nothing about those things, right, Blake?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him, her voice filled with a mother's protective alarm.
He stood abruptly, pushing his hair out of his face. "Oooookay, I'm going for a late-night walk now," he said awkwardly. Sure, his parents were embarrassing the crap out of him right now, but it was surprisingly nice to have them home. He walked towards the door, grabbing his old dark blue bomber jacket off the back of the door. Just before he closed it, he heard Alex's confused voice echoing from the living room, "But what's an orgy?!"
****
"Will you stop fidgeting, Emma!" her mother snapped, pushing Emma's hand away from fiddling with the end of her sleeve—a nervous habit Emma couldn't quite break. Emma rolled her eyes, forcing herself to look straight ahead. She didn't understand why her mother insisted on dressing her up like a prize pony ready for a show every single time they came to visit her friend. They had just arrived at her friend's large, white picket-fence house and stood waiting outside the grand front door.
"Best behavior now, Emma," her mother reminded, fluffing the perfectly sculpted curls around her own face before knocking firmly on the door. The door swung open to reveal a woman who looked like Malibu Barbie brought to life, with perfectly styled blonde hair, a wide, dazzling grin, and a deep southern accent. "Ohh, well, I do live and breathe! It's been too long, Emma! For a second, I thought you forgot all about us," she exclaimed, pulling Emma into a tight, almost suffocating hug.
It made Emma cringe; the woman smelled like a potent mix of margarita and Chanel perfume "Umm... yes, hello, Ms. Prim. How have you been? I'm sorry I haven't been here in so long," Emma stated, the apology feeling entirely false on her tongue. The woman laughed, her voice tinkling like wind chimes, leading them inside and closing the door behind them.
They walked into a sprawling living room, its walls lined with Jason's numerous awards and framed family pictures. A tray of margaritas sat on the coffee table, along with two bottles of water. They all took their usual spots.
"She's been very busy lately, my little overachiever, that's for sure," her mother boasted, fixing the navy headband on Emma's head before sitting primly beside Ms. Prim on the sofa.
Just then, Jason walked downstairs, making his way over. He gave Emma a polite nod, which she returned with a small smile. Ms. Prim laughed, waving off the comment about Emma's busyness. "I'm just so happy you decided to come with your mother this time! I'm sure Jason missed your company," she said, beaming over at Emma.
Jason sat at his usual spot beside Emma, facing their mothers. He gave his mother his dazzling smile before reaching over the table to shake Emma's mother's hand. "Hello, Ms. Pear, it's nice to see you again. And of course, Emma, it's always great to see you," he said, looking over at Emma as he settled back down.
Emma's mother glanced over at Emma, nodding in approval, as if to say he was what she should be looking for in a man.
"You raise such a well-mannered young man, Clara. I wish I could get Emma to follow simple directions. Just the other day, she came back home past curfew after I was gracious enough to give her the day off from extracurriculars." She shook her head, as if it was the worst, most grievous situation in the world. Emma never went against her mother's rules. Why did her mother feel it necessary to bring up this one time?
Honestly, it was the most fun Emma had had in years, but of course, her mother wouldn't care about that "I'm telling you, I'm so happy I had him in private schools since birth, best decision of my life. It's not like we don't have the money, after all," Ms. Prim said smugly. Emma picked up one of the water bottles, taking a huge gulp, swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth.
Her mother sighed, picking up her margarita and taking a long sip, her voice full of envy. "You're so lucky you married David." Ms. Prim nodded in agreement. Emma rolled her eyes, looking out the window. Ms. Prim thought she was so great because her husband's dad invented Toaster Strudel, so I guess you could call her the Toaster Strudel Queen or something. The sad thing was, Ms. Prim didn't even like sweets. It was sad and ironic at the same time.
As Emma looked out the window, spaced out as the conversation continued on, she saw a familiar mess of black hair blowing in the wind outside. Blake. "Um, pardon me, but I think I need a bit of air," she said, cutting into the conversation before standing. Her mom gave her a dirty look, but Emma continued on her path to the front door.
She made it outside, speed walking to catch up to him. "We meet again. Are you stalking me or something?" she teased, a playful grin on her face.
Blake turned, a lit cigarette dangling between his lips, his green eyes glinting. "You're the one who ran up to me," he countered, a slight smirk playing on his mouth.
He did have a point there, she thought, poking her lip "Touché. Umm, new jacket?" she asked, pointing at the dark blue bomber jacket he was wearing—different from the leather one she still had. He looked down, sighing heavily, pretending to be annoyed, but the slight smile on his lips gave him away. "More like old jacket, because this rando girl kinda stole mine, sooooo..." He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out a stream of smoke.
She crossed her arms, softly pushing his chest. "I'll give it back to you Monday. And hey, I'm not a rando!" he slid the cigarette back between his lips, pushing his hands into his pockets, a grin spreading across his face as he looked over her elaborate outfit. "What are you so dressed up for this time, huh? Got a hot date or something?"
Just as she was about to reply, she heard a familiar male voice behind her. "Emma, are you alright?" Jason said, standing on the porch, looking their way intensely. Blake's eyes immediately hardened, a cold glare flashing at Jason. He took the cigarette out of his mouth before looking back at Emma. "Oh, I see. Don't let me hold you up from your date. I'll see you Monday." He didn't give her a chance to reply before tossing the cigarette on the ground, turning back around, and walking quickly down the street, disappearing into the twilight.
She let out a heavy sigh, watching him go, a mix of frustration and disappointment swirling inside her, before walking back towards the house.
"Who was that man, Emma?" Jason questioned, his voice laced with suspicion, as she continued past him into the house. She stopped for a moment, not turning around. "No one, Jason. Absolutely no one. And I'll be happy if you keep it to yourself." She then walked into the house, leaving him standing alone on the porch.
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...
