Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FORTY TWO. ( I love you, I'm sorry. )
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Wanna talk about what happened?"
"No."
"You're normal about it?"
"Yeah."
"Then why aren't you up here with me?"
Emmy glanced over her shoulder, seeing Robby looking down at her from his bed with a pointed look. She had agreed to go to bed with him about 10 minutes ago, but she had been blankly sitting on the edge of the bed the whole time.
"Emmy," he sighed, coming to sit next to her. "Is there something you need to tell me?"
"No," she dismissed him, looking down at her lap.
He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Do you still like him?"
"Robby, I'm not talking about this with you," she scoffed.
He furrowed his eyebrows at her distant attitude. "Why not? Do you?"
She glanced at him, not being able to hold up her serious facade as her shoulders slump. "I don't know. It's, like, I expected myself to just feel so angry when I saw him, but then he just looked so...sad. And it's like my brain wouldn't let me be mad at him, because I had an idea of how he felt. And I guess a part of me felt scared about what could have happened to him."
Robby poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, looking at the floor for a second. Emmy frowned, doing the same as she felt as if she had screwed up. But then Robby grabbed her hand, holding it in his. Her head raised up in surprise.
