BOYTOY

~ Chapter 7 ~

My self-renewed promise to Amber didn't last long. Coming home from a rather generous shopping spree at the mall with Andrea—which left a sizeable gap in my savings account—I kicked my shoes off at the door and made a bee-line to the stairs, fully intent on reaching my room and driving my headache away with music. Unfortunately I was intercepted by my mother, who looked grey with tiredness after a hard day at work. She was the personal assistant to some big-shot executive in town; which I found rather strange considering Warnerville was rather small-scale compared to other towns in the state.

"Hey, Bron, could you do me a huge favour?" asked my mother immediately upon seeing me.

"Sure, mum," I answered, quelling a sigh as I bunched up the plastic bags in my fist.

"Here." She took them from me before I could argue. "I'll put these up in your room, as long as you can pop into the lounge room and keep Emery company for me."

"I—what?"

"Emery." My mother repeated. "Could you keep him company for me?"

"Why is he here?"

Sighing, she said with a hint of exasperation lacing her words: "He came over to see Amber but she's still out. I told him he could wait here for her if he wanted. I was going to stay in there with him, or at least put the TV on for him, but I just got a call from Mr. Mathews, and he needs me down at the office for a while."

"Haven't you worked enough?" I eyed the heavy line in her brow, drawn by exhaustion and tiredness.

She rubbed her eyes. "Yes, I have. But he called, and I said I'd come in. So would you please just keep Emery company for me? I don't want him to have to wait alone."

Warring internally with myself, I bit my lip. My mother's heartfelt desire or my sister's spur-of-the-moment promise? I had told myself not to mingle with Emery; Amber's promise or not, he was the reason she was acting so strange and ignoring me.

But...

My mother waited expectantly, a line tugging at her brow and her eyes faded and dim. Knowing my decision, I turned back for the lounge room, saying a soft, "Sure mum," even as I silently apologised to Amber.

Emery straightened up from his lounged position on the couch when I entered, sliding a socked foot out from beneath his thigh on the cushions, to settle it beside the other on the floor. "Hey," he greeted with a smile.

Making for the armchair, I gave a curt, "Hi," avoiding eye contact, knowing I was practically ignoring him and feeling guilty for it. I felt his lingering stare and knew he was questioning my odd behaviour. All the other times we had met, I had spoken freely, as if we were friends, or at least acquaintances. We had joked, laughed even. And for me to be suddenly unresponsive and distant must have surprised him. But, I thought, considering. It wasn't as if we were friends. We didn't know each other, so how Emery to know this wasn't how I normally acted when having an off day?

It wasn't in my nature to be outlandish and anti-social. At school, I was the 'mingler', talking with all sorts of people, including those outside my close group of friends. I was known as a genuine friendly person—Andrea's words, not mine—and was happy most of the time, and generally odd at others, as my friends would know. Ignoring people just wasn't one of the things I did as a rule; why ignore someone when you could have so much more fun annoying them?

Not speaking, I was soon to realise, took an awful lot of effort. Usually a talkative person, silence when there was chance for noise had me fidgeting in the seat. First I tapped my fingers on my knees, and when that failed to quell the need to speak, I started moving my leg up and down, staring resolutely at the screen. It seemed Emery had been mid-way through watching a movie, a movie I just happened the love. Soon enough I was lost in the film, riveted to the spot. When a particularly funny scene played out, I laughed out loud, forgetting my bout of silence. Hearing accompanying laughter, I looked at Emery.