Until Embry Met Eli

chapter three

The boy continued to stand in front of me until I responded to his question. He was lengthy, like Connor, only he stood there somewhat awkwardly like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Yeah, so? It's not like it's bothering anyone." My nose was still in my book.

"I didn't say it was," he was slightly grinning. "I usually carry a book around with me too."

"You do?"

"Always, but I have yet to bring one to a party." He sticks out his hand in front of mine for me to grab. "Elliot Dennings. But my friends call me Eli."

"Embry Lincoln. You can call me Em."

"Are you always bringing books to parties, Embry?" Already ignoring my request of what to call me, Eli was now sitting next to me, assuming I had invited him over.

He did smell good, though.

"You're assuming I go to parties. This party isn't exactly something I wanted to come to in the first place."

"Then why'd you come?"

"It doesn't matter," I replied. I wondered if Connor was still sucking the face of that other girl. "Why are you here?"

"My friend is part of the fraternity. They're always throwing these types of parties. I'm guessing it's your first year here?"

"Is it that obvious?" Maybe that's why Connor ditched me, he's too cool to talk to a freshman.

"Not that obvious," he said, giving me another grin. This boy was aimlessly staring back at me.

The wind began to pick, causing some more people to go back inside. I, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to stay outside away from everyone. I took the flannel off from around my waist and planned to put it on.

"Are you cold? Here, have my sweatshirt," Eli said, already removing one arm from his sleeve.

"No, it's okay, I have my flannel." His offer was sweet, but I had already tried my luck with a boy tonight, and I wasn't about to risk another failure.

"Little Women, huh? I've never read it."

"It's' one of the best novels written in the 19th century."

"Is it your favorite?"

"I can't pick a favorite."

"Why not?"

"Do you know how many books there are? There's too many and not enough time." Whenever I was asked this question, I always debated between answering with The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde or 11/22/63 by Stephen King. Clearly two different books. But there were too many others I loved, so I don't think I could ever pick. That was the beauty of literature. "Do you have a favorite?" I asked.

"I always go for The Odyssey. Can't go wrong with Homer or epic poems."

"Respectable choice," I added. "Don't you have any friends you came with?"

"Trying to get rid of me already?"

"No, I just...didn't know if you had anybody waiting for you, that's all." Eli didn't bother me, I just didn't know why he wanted to talk to me of all people.

"My friends can wait, and besides, you seem interesting enough to talk to." Before I knew it, I was tucking my hair behind my ear continuously, stringing some pieces around my finger. Was he flirting with me? Why would he?

My thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing in my pocket.

Louise: Wherekj akre youi?;