Heartbeat

Six

For Kate.

*

EMMA

I had never been over to the Knight’s house. When they moved to Newport there was so much going on in my overturned life that it took me months to realize that we had new neighbors. It wasn’t until Zoe pointed the ‘cute’ new boy at school out to me that I saw Jordan for the first time. He struck me as a little strange, especially when he started following me home that day. I almost ran we he turned into the street a little way behind me, not realizing until he walked up the drive way next door that he was the boy I’d seen through my bedroom window.

Things got a little weirder when we had that exercise in theatre class where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for a minute without blinking. He stared at me so intensely that I had to look away in the end before he saw right through that brick wall I’d built up and I’d crumble down. For some reason, ever since that day, Jordan has done nothing but stare at me. Mrs. Gilbert has a lot to answer for.

                And tonight I was going to hang out with him, although it was for research purposes only. Still, I found myself worrying about what to wear. Should I change from the jeans and t-shirt combo I’d worn all day, or should I stick with it? I didn’t want to look like I was making an effort for him but at the same time I really should change my top.

                I pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail and rifled through the wardrobe for a new shirt, finding a blue one that complemented the black jeans. I grabbed a notebook and pen and made my way downstairs. I still had a few minutes before it was six, and I knew my dad would probably want to question me before I left.               

                I’d just walked into the kitchen when my very own Spanish Inquisition began.

                “Where are you going?” Dad quizzed me, his brows narrowing.

                I explained to him that Jordan and I had been partnered for the Peer Class project and started to tell him about  how we had to write about who we thought the other person really is. He snorted at the prospect of Jordan and I hanging out, telling me to be extra careful with boys like Jordan because, despite being the coach, he still knew all the gossip about his players.

                “Just don’t let him take advantage,” Dad warned me.

                I rolled my eyes. “Dad, you have absolutely nothing to worry about on that front,” I laughed. “Jordan isn’t my type, and I’m not his. I don’t wear a cheer leader’s outfit and shout ‘Go Team’ for no reason what so ever.”

                I saw my father’s shoulders bobbing up and down as he tried to stifles his laughs at my cheer leader imitation, but eventually he was in full blown hysterics telling me he was glad that I wasn’t on the cheer squad because I couldn’t cheer at all. I sarcastically laughed along with him for a few seconds, and then stopped to pull a serious face, which apparently made my dad laugh so hard he was crying.

                “Right,” I watched the clock hit six. “I’m going. I’ll have dinner when I get back.”