Emmaline Sanders on side>>
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*Hello, my wonderful readers!! I have been working on this book since 2012 and now in 2024 I am finally editing nothing will change but it will be more detailed.
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Em's P.O.V.
I buried my face further into the pillow, the cool fabric pressing against my cheek, and groaned in annoyance as the shrill sound of the house phone continued to pierce the stillness of the room, shattering my peaceful nap.
"Are you going to get that, Em?" My mom's voice echoed from upstairs, sharp and a little impatient. I sighed heavily, the weight of sleep dragging at my limbs as I reluctantly dragged myself off the couch. The cushions left a cool impression on my back as I stood, and I winced at the chill in the air as I sluggishly made my way to the phone on the table by the entrance.
"Hello?" I mumbled, my throat thick and dry, the remnants of a nap-induced haze fogging my words.
"Em!" A voice shouted from the other end, sharp with annoyance. "Come on, I've been waiting outside forever. Are you ready?"
"Shit," I whispered, eyes widening as I suddenly remembered. I'd completely forgotten about meeting Sophia at the mall today—I was watching TV last night, and must have ended up crashing on the couch nowhere near my alarm.
"Uh, yeah, I'm ready. I'll be out in a second." My voice was too high, too strained to sound convincing, but I hung up quickly before she could question the uncertainty in it. Without a second thought, I darted upstairs, the stairs creaking beneath my feet as I practically flew to my room.
I burst into my room at the end of the hall, the thick carpet soft beneath my feet as I scrambled to throw on my black ripped skinny jeans I threw on the floor yesterday. The familiar smell of denim filled the air as I grabbed a white t-shirt from the pile of laundry on my chair and yanked it over my head, the fabric cool against my skin. I quickly knotted it behind my back, tugging at the hem to adjust it, before pulling on my socks and black combat boots, the leather cool and stiff around my ankles.
Just as I was about to head out the door, I stopped dead in my tracks. A wave of frustration hit me like a wall. I cursed silently to myself and spun around in a flurry of motion, heading back into my room. I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder before bolting down the hall.
I reached the top of the stairs, nearly slipping on the squeaky wooden steps as I made my way down, feeling the cold air of the hallway wash over me. But as I rounded the corner, I stopped abruptly, nearly colliding with my mom who had just come around from the kitchen. She was holding a steaming mug, the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting toward me, mingling with the faint similar smell of the cinnamon-sugar muffins she'd made earlier.
"Hey, what's the rush?" she asked, her voice soft and warm, but tinged with concern as she furrowed at my rushed appearance. She took another sip from her mug, a gentle clink of porcelain against her teeth, as the steam rose in thin tendrils into the air.
"Sorry, Mom, I got to go," I muttered, feeling a flicker of guilt. "Sophia's waiting outside. I forgot we were going to the mall today."
"So you're just going to leave without saying goodbye?" She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. Her face softened, but her voice took on a playful whine. The hint of sadness lingered there, just beneath the surface.
I chuckled lightly, the sound a little breathless as I opened my arms and moved towards her. The warm, familiar smell of her perfume—sweet and floral—wrapped around me like a blanket. I threw my arms around her in a quick hug. "How could I forget? You're leaving me for 3 weeks, maybe more." I said dramatically.
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