ethan's pov.
It's been three days. Three days since I've talked to her. All I know is that her moms in town, because of her instagram story, which I refused to watch so I checked from Grayson's phone. But I should get used to it. I'm not supposed to be talking to her. I should be mad at her. I have the right to be mad.
But then why do I feel like I need to go to her place right this second?
I clearly don't know where my emotions are at this moment and feel like I'm going crazy. I get up out of bed and walk to the other bedroom we have in the house.
"Can I come in?" I see Gray sitting at his desk writing.
"Yea, sure." He says not taking his eyes off the computer. I sit down on his bed and sigh.
"Bro, I'm a mess." I admit. He chuckles, rolling his chair away from his desk and looking towards me "Trust me, I know."
"I don't know what to do! After that whole fight we had, I don't know what to think anymore. Maybe I have been a pretty huge dick towards her." I put my heads into my head as I feel Grayson scoot closer.
"You wanna know what I think? I think you two need to talk to each other. And not when you're screaming in each others faces, but peacefully. Just sit down and have a civilized conversation. Thats what I think." He says.
"But what if she doesn't want to Gray, what if she's just tired of my shit and completely over everything?" I finally take my head out of my hands and look up at him.
"You never know until you try, E."
"You're right. When should I do it?" I ask getting up from his bed.
"Today? Her mom left." He tells me.
"How do you know?"
"James told me." He rolls his chair back to his desk.
"Okay. Thanks, Gray." I say walking out.
"You're welcome. And Ethan?" He turns his chair around.
"Yea?"
"Please try to understand her. Don't just think about yourself." He pleads.
I just nod my head, understanding, and walk out.
I go back into my room and grab my phone. I look for Emma's contact and type away.
Ethan- Hey, you home?
No that's too forward.
Ethan- Hey
Ok, that's good. Send.
That wasn't so bad. Now hopefully she answers. I pace back and forth in my room waiting for my phone to ding, but it doesn't. Maybe she's ignoring me. She doesn't wanna talk to me. Obviously not, why would she? Who even says hey? That's so fucking creepy. Fuck I messed up. She wont answer, she's over it now. She's past our relationship. I knew I shouldn't have done this.
Ding
I run to my phone picking it up. It was a text. From Emma. I quickly slide it open.
Emma- Hey
Phew. Thank god. I was shitting bricks over here.
Ethan- How are you?
I wait a few seconds before she texts back.
Emma- Well, and you?
Ethan- I'm good. We really need to talk. Can we?
Emma- Ok.
Ethan- Great. We can meet up somewhere? Or you can come over, vice versa.
I didn't get a text for a while. Longer than usual. Was i too upfront? Should I not have offered her to come over? Maybe she's uncomfortable. Why did I ask to come over? Or maybe she thought we would talk on text, or over the phone. Damnit Ethan.
Emma- Come over. Whenever.
Ethan- Great. I'll be there in 20.
Thank God. If I could, I would be on my way to her house right now, but I can't. That's too fast. Twenty minutes seemed a good enough time.
"Hey, Gray! I did it!"
emma's pov.
Twenty minutes.
My apartments clean already, so that's good. But am I? I look like a mess. I've already showered, thank god.
I decide to change my appearance. I was wearing my grey Brandy Melville sweats with my blue shirt with cat faces all over. I threw on a pair of my denim shorts that actually weren't even short, and a plain white crop top, and I tied a shoe lace around the shorts for a cute touch.
Ok, that's good enough. But there was still fifteen minutes to spare, and I knew if I sat here and waited the entire time, I would go crazy. I have to stay occupied.
Maybe I'll go check the mail.
I threw on my airforces and walk out, locking my door. I go to the mail room and open my locker with my key, gathering my few envelopes, and closing it. I walk back up to my apartment, walking in and closing the door. And that only took... three minutes.
Ugh, maybe some fortnite. I go upstairs to my bedroom and open my tv, plopping down in my beanbag in front of my bed.
I play for a while, and soon even forget that he's coming over. That is until I hear the doorbell.
Shit.
I quickly turn my tv off and run to the mirror, making sure all boogers are gone, and my hair is tamed. I grab my phone putting it in my back pocket and trotting down the stairs and walking to the door.
I take one last breathe before opening the door. "Hey."
"Hey, Emmy."
