Living With The Emerson Girls

Chapter 17

 ~Zachary's Point of View~

I wake up with her body still in my arms. The time is five in the morning. She doesn't move. Her breathing is soft, almost nonexistent.

"Ariel, Ariel..." I shake her gently. Her eyes open slowly, like a chest of hidden things, revealing the treasure that is her piercing sepia tone eyes.

She places a smooth hand on my chest and smiles. "Good morning."

I grin and lift her from the bed. She only holds on to me as I do, yawning. I set her down swiftly on the small seat in the bathroom, and as I grab my toothbrush and pour the minty white substance on it, I notice Ariel has disappeared into the shower. Tugging on the curtain, she firmly whispers that I not look, or she'll kill me. Perplexing.

I splash cold water onto my face and exit the bathroom to grab some sweats and a t-shirt. I pick up my phone when I see that I have a text.

Brooklyn.
Hey baby, see you at the party tonight.

Of course. She hasn't told people that we're broken up - but what can I expect? - and none of my friends from back home know it either.

I'm not your baby. I quickly type back.

Are you sure about that? Because I heard you're in trouble with the law over in California.

It comes as no shock to me that she knows. Or how quickly she is replying.

Yeah? And?

She doesn't answer for five minutes.

I'm no expert in criminal law, but I doubt you want the persecutor of your case to find out about your criminal record.

I grimace as I type.

Those were supposed to be expunged.

I almost predict her next answer, not at all surprised at Brooklyn's threats and capabilities.

Did you completely forget? My father is a lawyer.

Shit.

What do you want then?

The phone doesn't buzz for another five minutes, but that doesn't matter, because I already know what she wants.

Be with me tonight at the party, and I'll make sure they stay expunged. 
The phone falls out of my hands and onto the bed.

"Is everything okay?" Ariel's voice makes me jump. I turn around to see her in a fuzzy white towel, droplets of water in her hair. My skin feels hot all over and she blushes a deep red.

"Yeah, everything's fine, don't sneak up on me like that, okay?" I don't want to tell her about Brooklyn... yet. I know where that would end.

"Is it okay if I um, borrow another one of your shirts? Like for the car?" Ariel asks timidly.

I love the way Ariel gets nervous when it comes to the small details of our relationship, as opposed to her usual air of confidence.

"Of course," I say, giving her a small smile. I grab the deep blue fabric and step over to her, taking hold of her hand in the process.

"Zac," she scolds, gripping her towel tighter with her free hand, but from the cheeky smirk she gives me, I can gather that she secretly loves when I do this.

I don't counter her remark with any words, I just kiss her forehead, then her neck, and then the valleys between her pale collarbones. She shivers excitedly, but does not move. Her hands reach for the shirt and I let her take it. She moves away from me and behind the curtain adjacent to the bed, but I can still see her delicate frame, carved by the gods, perhaps, moving slowly and deliberately, though she does not realize it. And that is what I love about her.