“Oh...Well, that’s nice!” Deb smiles. “You’ve always been such a popular boy, Emerson. It’s good that you’ll be with your friends on your birthday.”
“Uh-huh,” Emerson says, examining his fingernails.
“Guess it’ll just be the three of us celebrating your birthday then, Abby,” my dad says.
“So it would seem,” I reply, glaring at Emerson. I can feel a hard knot forming in my throat. Was he just messing with me last night, when he told me that he wanted me? Has he been telling all his friends about how his pervy almost-stepsister secretly wants to jump his bones? I can’t believe I let my guard down. I should know better than to trust anyone at all.
“Actually, you know what?” Emerson says, finally shifting his gaze my way, “My friends probably wouldn’t mind too much if you tagged along, Abby. I’ve got a spare seat in the car.”
“You...I...What?” I stammer, uncomprehendingly.
“Oh, you should go, Abby!” Deb says enthusiastically, “You don’t want to hang out with us old farts on your birthday. Go have fun with Emerson and his friends! Don’t you think she should, Bob?”
“Sure,” my dad says, “Sounds like it could be a fun time for you kids.”
“What do you say, Abby?” Emerson asks. There’s a glint in his blue eyes, a spark of secrecy. I don’t quite know what he’s up to, or why he’s scrapped our plans for the weekend, but anything would be better than being stuck here alone with our parents on my birthday.
“OK,” I say flatly, leaning back against the couch. “Sounds...great.”
“As long as you’re on time for the wedding,” my dad reminds us warningly.
“Super,” Emerson grins, snatching away the bag of Milano cookies I’ve been noshing on. “We’ll leave tomorrow after school. Get as much out of the weekend as we can.”
“Sounds good, Bro,” I say, glowering at him as he steals my snack.
“Oh, isn’t that just so precious?” Deb grins, as Emerson disappears upstairs.
I watch his retreating back, my mind reeling. I’m hurt, and confused, and incredibly disappointed about our plans being scattered. How can he think it’s OK to just blow me off like this, after everything I shared with him last night? It doesn’t make any sense. He seemed just as eager to have some...alone time together as I did. What the hell gives?
My concentration has been absolutely demolished. There’s no way I’m getting any more homework done today. Unwilling to listen to my parents’ sickly-sweet chatter, I head up to my own room, lock the door, and whip out my battery-operated boyfriend. If I’m not going to get any action this weekend after all, I’d better stock up on the self love every chance I get. I’m well accustomed to taking care of myself, anyway.
Still smarting from Emerson’s dismissal, I leave for the school the next morning without even sticking around to wish him a happy birthday. I halfway expect the rest of the student body to burst out laughing as I hurry into school, convinced that Emerson will have spread the word about what a dramatic weirdo I am.
But as usual, my entrance into homeroom goes unnoticed by all my peers save Riley. My best friend waves me over, noticing at once that I’m in a terrible mood.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, as I sit down beside her.
“Oh, you know,” I sigh, “Just everything in the entire world.”
Without a word, she takes my hand and tows me toward the classroom door. Our teacher, a beleaguered, balding man in his forties, looks up from his game of computer solitaire as we march past.
“Excuse me,” he says testily. “Where do you ladies think you’re going?”
Without missing a beat, Riley spins around to face him, plants a hand on her hip, and says, “We both just got our periods simultaneously. They’re super heavy too. Like, horror-movie level. So we’re gonna go take care of our Woman Issues together. OK? Bye!”
The teacher’s face drains of color as we traipse out of the room and slam the door behind us. The rest of our schoolmates are in their classrooms already, so we’re all alone as we beat a quick path through the halls and hole up in one of the girls’ bathrooms. We squeeze ourselves into one of the larger stalls and settle down for a good long talk. Riley cracks a window so that she can enjoy a gossip-session cigarette, and I tell her about Emerson’s surreptitious change of plans for the weekend.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she says, putting her smoke out on the windowsill.
“Tell me about it!” I exclaim, letting my head fall back against the tile wall.
“There’s got to be more to it,” she says resolutely. “Why would he all but profess his love for you one night—?”
“He professed his wanting to bone me,” I correct her, “Not his love.”
“Right,” Riley says, rolling her eyes, “Why would he profess his whatever, only to leave you high and dry? Doesn’t follow.”
“You’re the expert on man-brains,” I reply, “You tell me what I’m supposed to make of all this.”
“Just wait it out,” she tells me, resting her hands on my shoulders. “I’m sure there’s an explanation, here.”
Having unloaded some of my frustration, I feel like I can at least make it through the rest of the day without exploding. We’ll see how I feel once I’m cooped up in some beach house with a bunch of Emerson’s buddies. As I step out of the girl’s bathroom with Riley right behind me, I very nearly crash into a wall of person that appears out of nowhere.
“Christ,” I mutter, stepping out of the way just in time. “Watch where you’re—”
“There you are,” a very familiar voice says. “I was looking for you.”
I glance up only to find Emerson’s blue eyes looking back at me. I do my best to tamp down my automatic excitement at seeing him. Can’t let him get me all riled up, now.
“Oh?” I say, feigning indifference. “And why were you looking for me?”
“Because we’re getting out of here,” he replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Right now. Let’s go.”
“I thought you said we were heading out after school?” I reply, even more confused.
“I say a lot of things,” Emerson shrugs, “But right now, I’m saying that you and I are getting in my Chevy and blowing this pop stand. What, are you afraid to miss math class or something, Miss Rowan?”