Displeasure. Annoyance. Those were only the beginning of the words I could use to describe what I felt. Tasha came to prom. She—who had insisted she didn't want to go—showed up. Her hair, her face, and that damn dress... She looked exquisite, like something out of the fairytales my mother used to read to me as a kid.
Red. Dark as an apple. That was the color she wore that night, and it's been etched into my mind ever since.
"EMMETT!" Isla's shrill voice yanked me out of my thoughts. I winced, snapping back to the present, and glared at her from across the table.
"We called you three times," my dad added, his brow furrowed.
"Sorry," I muttered, trying to cover my distraction.
"It's probably all the alcohol he drank," Isla teased, smirking.
"I didn't drink that much," I retorted, rolling my eyes.
"As long as you didn't do anything stupid," my mom shrugged, cutting into her pancakes.
"I was just... thinking about something," I mumbled, hoping they'd let it drop.
"Thinking about what?" Isla leaned forward with a knowing grin.
"Nothing," I shot back quickly.
Isla's smirk deepened. "Maybe a certain red dress?"
My jaw clenched as I looked between my meddling sister and my suspiciously guilty-looking mother.
"You knew she was going to prom, didn't you?" I accused, narrowing my eyes at Mom.
She shrugged. "She asked me not to tell you. And, well, I couldn't resist playing fairy godmother. I wanted to give her a chance to enjoy herself."
"Who are we talking about?" Dad asked, clearly out of the loop.
"Tasha," Isla chimed in. "You know, the short girl who's always wearing pink?"
That was it. I stood, grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair.
"Where are you going?" Mom called after me, standing abruptly.
"To see Pinky," I said without looking back.
The drive to Tasha's house was filled with a mix of frustration and anticipation. The book event started at three, giving us plenty of time to talk. She had some explaining to do—about Damien, about the dance, and especially about why she hadn't told me she was going to prom.
When I pulled into the driveway, her dad was outside washing his car. He straightened when he saw me, setting the sponge down as he approached my car. I rolled the window down.
"Hello, Mr. Hill," I greeted politely.
"Emmett," he said gruffly, wiping his hands on a towel. "Tasha told me you're taking her to some book thing."
"Yes, sir," I nodded, trying not to let his intense gaze unnerve me.
He frowned. "Bring her back by nine. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," I stammered, swallowing hard. His nod was curt as he stepped back, letting me breathe again.
Tasha appeared moments later, dressed in jeans and a pink graphic tee, with that same adorable backpack she always brought to our study sessions. She hugged her dad before climbing into the passenger seat, buckling up with a cheerful smile.
"Hi," she greeted softly.
"Hey," I replied, glancing at her longer than I should've.
I started the GPS, and we fell into an easy silence. The only sound was the low hum of the radio until Tasha started singing quietly along with the music. Her voice was soft, sweet, and... calming.
She suddenly turned up the volume and began jamming, moving to the beat like nobody was watching. I couldn't help but laugh at her ridiculous yet oddly charming reactions.
This wasn't the time to bring up Damien. We were having too much fun, and honestly, I didn't want to ruin the mood. Besides, letting her mess with my radio was already a huge deal. No one touches my car's radio—not even my sister.
An Hour Later
Standing in a crowd of book lovers wasn't exactly my idea of a good time, but the sparkle in Tasha's eyes made it worth it.
"Emmett, come on!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward a table.
I followed, carrying the growing stack of signed books she'd collected. We moved from author to author, stopping only when our stomachs growled.
When we finally reached the pretzel stand, I stepped forward to pay, but Tasha beat me to it, handing over the cash before I could argue. She held both pretzels with a triumphant grin.
"I could've handled that," I protested.
"I wanted to," she said, smiling up at me through her ridiculously long lashes. "You've been carrying all my books and got us these tickets. Think of this as my treat."
"A reward?" I teased, leaning closer.
"Exactly," she grinned.
Without thinking, I leaned down and took a big bite out of one of her pretzels. Butter dripped down my chin, and before I could wipe it, Tasha reached out, brushing it away with her thumb.
We both froze, the moment hanging awkwardly in the air before she quickly pulled her hand back, wiping her fingers on a napkin.
After meeting her favorite author and getting more books signed, we reached the entrance, only to see rain pouring outside.
"We'll have to make a run for it," she declared, slipping the books into a plastic bag provided by the event.
"Are we now?" I smirked at her determined tone.
She nodded. "Alright, ready? One, two, three—go!"
We bolted through the downpour, laughing as the rain soaked through our clothes. By the time we reached the car, we were drenched and shivering.
I tossed the books into the back seat and turned to see Tasha's teeth chattering. Grabbing my letterman jacket, I draped it over her shoulders, wrapping her up like a blanket.
She laughed, the sound filling the car. "We look like drowned rats," she joked, pulling the jacket tighter around herself.
"Or wet dogs," I added with a grin.
She leaned back in her seat, still smiling. "Thanks, Emmett."
"For what?"
"For being a great friend. For coming with me to this. I know you were probably bored out of your mind," she admitted, brushing her wet hair back.
"Not bored," I assured her. "It was... fun. Different, but fun."
Her lips twitched into a shy smile as she looked down at her lap. When she looked up again, a single wet curl clung to her cheek. Without thinking, I reached out, curling the strand around my finger before tucking it behind her ear.
Her breath hitched slightly, and my heart thudded in my chest.
"Would you... like to come to my next football game?" I asked softly.
Her eyes met mine, wide and surprised.