Asunder

Chapter 36 - Cinderella

Three essays, eight chapters, four upcoming tests, and a presentation to get done for next week. But I don't feel up to any of them.

It's not just that I don't feel up to them. I tried this morning. I sat down, opened my books, and was ready to dive deep into hours and hours of nothing. But Saturday doesn't feel built to do these things.

I remember a time when Saturday didn't feel built for anything. When no day was a good time for life at all. Now, things have changed for the better, and to make a long, dramatic story short: I just don't want to do any work.

So I walked to Emma's house, thinking my mind would be and clear if I saw her.

It's not working as well as I thought it would.

"So, I took your advice and rolled with it," she says, head inside of an oven. "Raspberry and mint is extremely complementary, but also really diverse..."

I listen through half-present ears and stare at the swirling pattern of her marble counter, my finger idly tracing a river of white in the dark gray.

"Careful, careful, here comes a turn, careful—"
" 'Kay, I got it, Sky," I say, staring at the concrete intently before making a clean turn around the block's edge.
"See?" I let go of the wheel for a half-second, and he hisses in a breath like he's been burnt.
I roll my eyes. "And I'm the uptight one."
He scoffs, and nudges my shoulder lightly enough that my hands don't slip around the wheel. "You are. I'm still the cheesy one. And as such, it is my duty to be overly concerned, here."
"Okay," I lean back on the leather seat. "As long as you don't monitor me every single time I drive, I'm fine with that."
"That would defeat the purpose of the whole 'independence driving' thing."
"Yeah, you're totally right. And so would warning me every time there's a turn, when we've only been circling around the same block for fifteen god-dammed minutes!"

I grip the counter's edge.

"By the way," Emma chirps, and I turn to her just as she shuts the oven, "have you decided what to say to Joey yet?"
I smile and wince at the same time. "It's Jonathan."
"Yeah, whatever. Doesn't matter anyway." She straightens, getting flour on her hair as she places it behind her ear. "What will you tell him?"
I disregard the fact that I've already told him my answer. She doesn't need to know that yet. "Why doesn't his name matter?" I ask.

She looks at me like it's obvious.

And as soon as I catch her drift, I shut it down. "No," I say flatly.
"Come on," she insists, getting impatient. "You know it, and I know it, and he—"
"Okay but he doesn't, Emma." I rub my throbbing temples. "And I don't either. You're the only one thinking that."

I slow the car in front of Maya's park, sighing out of satisfaction.
"Hey, look at you," I say, smiling at Sky's pokerface. "You haven't had a heart attack, died, or thrown up for the entire ride! Who woulda thunk?"
Despite his worry, he grins. "Really? In that order?"
I swing the door open. "Come out, we don't have that much time."

A muscle under my eye twitches. She opens her mouth to further insist, but then squints at me: "Did something happen?"
I answer a second too late. "No."

"Something did happen..." she says, setting down her oven mits and making her way over to me. I cringe at the conversation about to take place.
I sigh. "Nothing happened, Emma."
"You're a bad liar."
And for some god-awful reason my body betrays me entirely, and I beam like a stupid little girl. I cover my mouth, attempting to pull it down to normalcy. "Genuinely, truly, honestly, nothing happened."

"I remember when I was a kid, I loved the constellations."
"Yeah?"
I nod. "I loved the mythology behind every character. Once there was this school trip where we went under this... projection dome, and they turned off the lights, and up on the ceiling..."
I swallow, and glance at the light in his eyes.
"Too bad there's so much light pollution these days. We can't see them anymore when we're so close to the city."