I was starting to understand Emmett Pierce—or at least, I thought I was. For the first time, I felt like I could talk to someone outside of my family and Milton. It was refreshing, though a little unsettling. Today was Monday, and like always, I ate lunch in the library. Milton joined me, sliding into the seat across from mine as we swapped sandwich halves. I got his PB&J, and he took my BLT turkey club, just like we always did.
"We've got two things to discuss," Milton announced, unwrapping his sandwich.
I raised an eyebrow and took a bite, silently urging him to continue.
"First, your birthday is in two weeks. What are we doing?" he asked, grinning.
Before I could respond, a deep voice cut through the air. "Your birthday's in two weeks?"
My head snapped up to see Emmett standing at the end of the aisle, his tall frame blocking most of the light. Behind him stood his friend, Kyle, who wore a grin as wide as his shoulders.
"Is this where all the cool kids sit?" Kyle boomed, his voice echoing off the bookshelves.
Milton glared at him, raising a finger to his lips. "Shh! This is a library!"
Unbothered, Kyle and Emmett plopped down at our table. Milton huffed in irritation as they made themselves comfortable.
"So, what are you doing for your birthday?" Emmett asked, his smirk making it clear he wasn't going to let the question go unanswered.
"Well," Milton began, "she wanted to go to this big book event, but the tickets sold out, so—"
"I'll be staying home," I cut in quickly, avoiding Emmett's piercing gaze.
Emmett leaned back, his smirk turning into a teasing grin. "Staying home? You do know two weeks from now is prom, right?"
"Yes, I know. And I'll still be staying home," I replied firmly.
Milton rolled his eyes dramatically. "Trust me, I've tried convincing her. It's our senior year! Prom is a must."
Kyle leaned closer to Milton, his lips curling into a playful smile. "So, are you going?" he asked, his tone dripping with flirtation.
Milton crossed his arms and looked away, cheeks tinged pink.
Before I could witness where this conversation was headed, the bell rang. Grateful for the escape, I grabbed my bag and hurried out of the library. Emmett followed me, easily keeping up with his long strides.
"Even if you don't go to prom, you should do something for your birthday," he said as we walked down the hall.
I stopped at my locker, finally turning to face him. "I haven't celebrated my birthday since my mom left," I admitted quietly. "She left on my birthday and never came back. Celebrating just feels... wrong."
Emmett's confident demeanor faltered, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I didn't mean to push."
I shook my head, forcing a small smile. "You weren't. You were just trying to be a friend. So, I'll see you tomorrow at your house for our project?"
"Yeah," he replied, his smile returning.
We said our goodbyes, and I headed to my car.
The next day after school, I pulled up to Emmett's house. The massive home never failed to amaze me. Its pristine exterior and sprawling lawn looked like something out of a movie. I rang the doorbell, and within seconds, a woman who could only be Emmett's mom opened the door.
"Oh, finally! He told me you were coming by," she said warmly, pulling me inside.
She led me through the hallway to the living room, where various colored suits were draped over the couch. Emmett's younger sister, Isla, was perched on the kitchen island, kicking her legs idly.
As soon as Isla spotted me, she hopped down and hurried over. "So, Emmett says you're not going to prom. Why not?"
Before I could respond, Isla smirked. "Wait, I know why. You probably don't want to be set up with my playboy of a brother."
"Isla!" their mom scolded, her hands flying to her hips. "Don't talk about your brother like that!"
Isla rolled her eyes and looked away, muttering under her breath.
"Don't mind her. Call me Caroline," Emmett's mom said, guiding me to the dining table.
"Thanks, Caroline," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just don't feel comfortable about prom."
Isla plopped into a seat next to me, tilting her head. "Why? You're hot! Totally bangable. Prom would be fun!"
"Isla!" Caroline's face turned crimson as she stared at her daughter in disbelief.
I felt a lump rise in my throat, and before I could stop it, a tear slipped down my cheek. Both Caroline and Isla immediately froze, their teasing expressions turning to concern.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Caroline asked, placing a gentle hand on my arm.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "My mom left when I was twelve. School dances have always been hard for me. It would feel weird shopping for dresses with my dad. And seeing other girls with their moms... it's just a reminder of what I don't have anymore."
Caroline and Isla's eyes brimmed with tears.
"Why is everyone crying?" Emmett's voice broke the silence as he entered the room.
Neither of them spoke, but when Emmett's eyes landed on me, his expression softened.
"Come on," he said, taking my hand. "Let's get out of here before their cry-fest gets contagious."
I let him guide me upstairs to his room, grateful for the escape.
Once inside, I sat on the couch near the window while he tossed his phone onto the bed. He ruffled his hair, clearly frustrated.
"Sorry about earlier," he said, gesturing to the suit he was wearing. "My mom and sister are trying to decide my prom look. And, uh, I kind of slipped up and mentioned you weren't going. My mom made a big deal about it. I hope she didn't push you too hard."
"She didn't," I reassured him. "And you look... handsome. Really handsome. Not ugly. Not even a little bit," I blurted, my face heating up instantly.
He smirked, clearly amused. "Thanks," he said, grabbing his buzzing phone. "Let me change out of this, and we'll get started."
He disappeared into the restroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I buried my face in my hands, groaning.
"Not ugly in the slightest? Really?" I muttered to myself. "Smooth, Tasha. Real smooth."