i think it's love | ethma

four

Emma wakes up the next morning with a start, sitting up in bed, and is immediately assaulted with a splitting headache. Groaning, she falls back into the pillows, rubbing her eyes against the bright glare of the sun outside, and suddenly becomes aware of her phone vibrating in her jeans pocket.

She wriggles it out, squints at the screen. Mark.

Heart leaping, she picks up. "Hello?"

"Hey," he says cheerfully, and suddenly Emma smiles at the familiar sound of his voice. "How are you? Did you get home okay last night? I texted you but you didn't answer."

"I'm fine," she reassures, nudging the phone into the crook between her cheek and her shoulder and standing to stretch. "Ethan gave me a ride, and I'm sure he's going to rub it in for the next three weeks at least, but it's alright. Did everything you had to look after last night go okay?"

He sounds sort of off when he replies, "Without a hitch."

She waits for an explanation but doesn't get one. Okay. Maybe it's a private family matter. Having two politicians as guardians, she knows all about those. "Are you okay?" she finally asks instead, walking out into the hallway and to the bathroom. The bathroom door, as usual, gets stuck in the frame. They really need to get that fixed— it's not like they don't have the money to do it, but as usual the attention her mother pays to the state of things in her own home leaves something to be desired.

Since she's struggling with the door, she almost misses the slight pause between her question and his answer. "Yeah."

Emma pushes at the door again, but it's really stuck today. Making a face, she hipchecks it, causing it to fly backwards. She releases an irritated breath. "So— " Her sentence is interrupted by the extremely loud blaring of an airhorn. It's so near in vicinity and sudden that she can't help but jump and scream. Her phone clatters to the tile floor.

She can hear Mark yelling from the speaker but her heart is thundering in her ears and she's now painfully wide awake. The sound has stopped now, as the door rebounds slowly away from the wall. Breathing shallowly, she peers around the door and immediately finds the source of the noise; an actual airhorn taped sideways to the wall, right where the doorknob hit when she busted the door open.

She grinds her teeth together for a moment, feeling blood rise to her cheeks.

Still ignoring Mark's yelling from the phone, she props the door back open and pokes her head out into the hallway. "Ethan!" she screams, knowing he can hear her. "What the f—" she catches herself just in time, just in case her parents were still here, "I'm going to kill you!" Probably not that much better, but still. At least Grayson is off at some parties this weekend.

She hears him laughing downstairs. She'll deal with him later. Harrumphing, she turns back to the washroom and picks up her phone, smoothing back her hair. "Hello?"

"What was that?"

"Ethan being a prick, nothing new," she replies, trying to sound dismissive. "So—"

He cuts her off. "Look, I gotta go right now, but I'll call you later, alright?"

She frowns. He called her and now he wanted to hang up? "Fine," she replies shortly. "Love you."

This time there is definitely a pause before he returns the sentiment. "Love you, too." Dial tone.

Brow furrowed in puzzlement, she tucks her phone back into her pocket and faces the bathroom mirror.

A few minutes later, when she gets downstairs, she's treated to the sight of Ethan Dolan leaning his forearms on the kitchen sink, spitting into it with disgust.

She grins, sauntering over to the fridge. "What's wrong, Ethan?" she asks, voice sugary sweet.

He takes a moment before answering in a low growl. "Let's not play this game where we pretend it wasn't you who replaced the orange juice with a jug of Kraft Dinner-packet flavoured water." He looks a little green when he turns around. "And you call me the asshole."

He must have taken a pretty huge gulp. She grins wickedly and pulls the real orange juice out from the back of the fridge to pour herself a glass. His glowering eyes follow her movements. "It's payback for those toothpaste Oreos— which was so unoriginal, by the way."

"You don't mess with a perfect recipe," he retorts. "And besides, that was payback for when you covered my bar of soap with your fucking clear nail polish so it wouldn't lather, remember?"

She downs her orange juice before answering. "That was payback for something too." It's kind of hard to keep track after a while, though.

"Hell it was."

"It was."

He's not even paying attention because he's turned to spit into the sink again. "Jesus Christ, that's disgusting," he mutters.

The front door opened before she can reply, and Mayor Sophia Chamberlain walks into the house.

Both Emma and Ethan stiffen. It's a little strange, but Emma immediately feels tense around Ethan when her mother is around. Like she'll see through things. Which is ridiculous. There's nothing to see through. Nothing at all.

Sophia interrupts Emma's internal monologue, eyeing them both wearily where they've squared off in the kitchen. "Are you two fighting again?" she asks in an exasperated tone, dropping a grocery bag on the counter.

There's a beat of silence where Emma makes eye contact with him and they both quickly look away. Ethan plasters a wide sarcastic grin on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sophia. We never fight. Emma's the most pleasant person I've ever known."

Sophia frowns at his tone, and Emma hides a smile by ducking her head. If there's one thing she and Ethan are in solidarity about, it's a sometimes playful (sometimes not) annoyance at her mother.

Her mother blinks but ignores that. "Well, in any case, good morning," she says stiffly instead.

"Why are you here, Mom?" Emma asks bluntly, pouring cereal into a bowl.

Her mom turns back to her, eyebrows shooting up. "Should I not be?"

Emma rolls her eyes and pours milk into her bowl as well. "You know what I mean." The fact that she hasn't seen her mother face-to-face for three days straight (she gets super busy at the office and in town) tells her right now that something is up.

"I just want to see my daughter, that's all," Sophia insists. "Is that such a nefarious purpose, Emma?"

Emma isn't buying it. "And?"

Sophia held Emma's unwavering stare for a few seconds before sighing and smoothing down her hair. "There's a City dinner tonight and you need to be there." Ethan immediately makes to leave the room at this news, his face twisted into a disgusted expression, but Sophia stops him. "Ethan, I want you and your brother to come too. This is a family event."

Ethan snorts quietly. "Right. Family."

Sophia narrows her eyes at his tone. "Yes. That's what we all are, aren't we?" She smiles, too big to be real. "A happy family."