✓ | UNUSUAL, embry call ³

chapter twenty three

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

When Juliet finally arrived home and closed her door behind her, the weight of realization hit her like a tidal wave. She paused mid-step, her bag slipping off her shoulder, as her mind replayed her conversation with Embry. That's when it struck her—she was technically going on a date.

Sure, Embry hadn't explicitly said it was a date, but the thought lodged itself in her brain, refusing to budge.

And if that wasn't enough, the prospect of attending a campfire with the elders present loomed large in her mind. The idea of sitting among the most respected figures of the community felt both daunting and exhilarating. She didn't need anyone to remind her she was an outsider; she felt it keenly enough. The last thing she wanted was to come across as intrusive or disrespectful.

With nerves bubbling to the surface, she threw herself onto her bed and reached for her phone, immediately dialling Maya's number. If anyone could calm her down or offer advice, it was Maya. The call barely rang twice before Maya's cheerful voice came through.

"Hey, Juliet! What's up?"

"Maya, I need your advice!" Juliet whined dramatically, burying her face into her pillow.

"Of course," Maya said, her tone warm and reassuring. "What's going on?"

Juliet exhaled deeply before launching into an explanation, recounting Embry's invitation to the campfire and the swarm of emotions it had unleashed. She ended her spiel with a pitiful groan. "I just feel so nervous, Maya. Like...what if I'm intruding? I'm not even from here, and I already feel like I'm crossing some invisible line."

To Juliet's surprise, Maya laughed, the sound light and unbothered. "Juliet, trust me—you are far from an intruder. Honestly, you'll understand tomorrow night. I promise."

Juliet furrowed her brow, confusion flickering across her face. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, but deep down, she knew Maya wasn't going to spill. The way she'd worded it left no doubt—Maya wanted her to experience whatever was coming firsthand.

"Pray for my soul," Juliet mumbled, earning another giggle from her friend.

"Don't worry," Maya said, her voice warm with encouragement. "I'll be there with you the whole time. If anything, you can cling to me like a lifeline."

Juliet let out a small laugh. "Thanks, Maya. You're the best." Just as she was about to say more, her bedroom door creaked open. Her eyes darted up, catching her parents peeking inside, their expressions far too interested for her liking.

"Maya, I'll call you later," she said quickly, cutting the call before Maya could even respond. She sat up, folding her arms as her parents stepped into the room.

"Mom, Dad," she said slowly, her voice laced with exasperation. "We talked about boundaries. I respect your space, and you're supposed to respect mine."

Cordelia offered her a sheepish smile. "Sweetheart, I know, but—"

"We overheard you were going to the campfire," her father interjected, resting a hand on his wife's shoulder.

Juliet groaned, dropping her head back against the bedpost. "Should I even ask how you know about that?" she muttered, narrowing her eyes at them. She hoped—prayed—that her parents hadn't gone around pestering people for information.

"We were personally invited," Cordelia said brightly.

Juliet's heart sank. "No," she said firmly, shaking her head.

"Yes," her father countered with a knowing smile.

"No." Her voice rose an octave, panic creeping in.

"Yes, but," her father said, holding up a hand to stop her spiralling, "we're not going. We've got to meet with our editor who will be out of town for a few days. So, it'll just be you. All we ask is that you pass along our regrets to Billy."

Juliet let out a loud sigh of relief, flopping back onto the bed. "Why didn't you start with that?" she grumbled, while her parents shared a chuckle.

"Sorry, honey," her dad said, his tone teasing. "We just wanted to remind you to enjoy yourself and stay safe."

Cordelia stepped further into the room, her eyes lighting up. "Now, let's pick out the perfect outfit for tomorrow night!"

Juliet's stomach plummeted, her eyes darting to her dad in a silent plea for rescue. But before she could even utter a word, he had already slipped out of the room, leaving her to fend for herself. The door clicked softly behind him, sealing her fate.

She turned back to her mother, who was now rummaging through Juliet's closet with the enthusiasm of someone on a treasure hunt. Cordelia's eyes sparkled as she pulled out one outfit after another, holding each one up as if envisioning Juliet's future in them.

Juliet groaned, flopping back onto her bed in defeat. "Mom, I'm not walking a runway. It's just a campfire."

"Sweetheart," Cordelia said without turning around, her voice light but determined, "every occasion deserves the right outfit. First impressions matter, you know."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "I think Embry already knows what I look like in jeans and a hoodie. Pretty sure I've set the bar low enough."

Cordelia paused, turning to Juliet with a sly smile. "And that's exactly why we need to raise it." She placed her hands on her hips, holding up a floral blouse that Juliet immediately vetoed with a shake of her head.

"Mom," Juliet said, sitting up and waving her hands. "It's not a date! It's just...a thing. With friends. Casual."

Cordelia arched a perfectly groomed brow. "Not a date, huh?" she said, her tone laced with playful doubt. "That's funny because you've been blushing since the moment you mentioned his name."

Juliet froze, her cheeks betraying her with a telltale warmth. "I am not blushing!" she protested, though her mom's knowing grin said otherwise.

"Oh, honey," Cordelia cooed, tossing the blouse onto the growing pile of rejected options. "It's okay to be nervous. You like him, don't you?"

Juliet hesitated, her hands twisting in her lap. "I mean...he's great. And sweet. And funny." She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "But it's not like that. At least, not yet."

Cordelia nodded, a soft smile on her lips. "Well, whether it's a date or not, you deserve to feel confident. Let's find something that makes you feel amazing—not for him, but for you."

Juliet softened at her mom's words, the earlier tension in her shoulders easing. "Thanks, Mom," she said quietly, even as she eyed the pile of clothes her mom had already discarded. "But can we skip the floral? Please?"

Cordelia laughed, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Deal. But I'm still picking something."

As her mom dove back into the closet, Juliet couldn't help but smile. She might have dreaded these mother-daughter fashion moments, but deep down, she knew they came from a place of love. Even if Cordelia's taste leaned a little too far into "picture-perfect" territory, Juliet appreciated her mom's effort to make her feel special.