when the sun came up

xi.

Ethan, miracle of miracles, shut up immediately, though his gaze remained firmly fixed on Anthony. The other boy was staring right back at him, a line creasing his forehead in consternation. Anthony's eyes weren't exactly narrowed, but they weren't a far cry from it either.

"Princess, huh?" he said, clearly striving to sound neutral and failing somewhat. "So is he your... what? Boyfriend?"

Emma saw red. Mostly it was the hot flash of anger that shot through her at Anthony's words, but there was a little embarrassment mixed up in there too. She knew her face had probably turned the colour of a ripe tomato, and refused to so much as look at Ethan.

"That's none of your business," she bit out, sending Anthony a glare that could have felled an elephant. "You don't get to come barging unannounced into my apartment after a whole year and start prying into my personal life. Olivia may have forgiven you for fucking us both over but I think you'll find I'm a whole lot better at holding a grudge than she is."

A ringing silence met her words. Anthony seemed momentarily speechless. Perhaps he'd thought that in the year that had elapsed, Emma would have cooled off a little, even wished things had ended differently. If so, that was his mistake. He should've known her better than that.

She finally chanced a quick peripheral glance at Ethan. Perhaps it was her imagination but he seemed to have moved closer without her noticing, his bulk a reassuring presence by her side. He was looking at Anthony, his steadfast gaze radiating neither warmth nor hostility, but rather a curious alertness. His arms were still crossed and his stance was guarded, and Emma had the sudden fleeting impression of a predatory animal lying patiently coiled in wait, ready to pounce at the nearest provocation.

She reluctantly turned her attention back to Anthony. He seemed empty now, somehow; his verve had deserted him, and he looked upset. Once upon a time Emma might have smoothed that furrow from his brow, kissed it better. But now she just felt tired looking at him, so very tired.

"I'd like it if you left, Anthony," she said quietly. Her voice was calm. "I'm sorry, but I just can't."

There was a short pause, before he nodded. He looked as if he understood, though his eyes were tight with regret.

Ethan followed him out, a frown still on his face, before shutting the door softly behind him and turning to look at Emma.

"So," he said, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant. "You okay there?"

Emma took a deep breath, her fist clenching around the keys still in her hand.

"I will be, in about ten minutes," she said finally, looking up at Ethan. "Put a shirt on, we're going out."

He looked puzzled, but headed towards his room without complaint. "Where are we going?"

"That trashy bar down the road. I need vodka. A lot of vodka."