Leading You Home

Forth

"The words you speak become the house you live in."
-Hafiz

_____

The only requirement Emma gives me is to do my own dishes, and I'm more than okay with that simple task.

"Okay, my Mom likes to be super helpful and nosy so if she asks you tons of questions about your favorite foods and how many pillows you like to sleep with, don't get freaked out," Emma informs me as we walk to our cars at the end of the day. Only half-listening to her, I spot Bradley standing with a few guys at the bottom of the steps. I raise my hand in a slight wave, assuring him that I've found a bed to sleep in.

He waves back.

Emma begins to fish her keys out of her bag. "And since she's met you before she might feel like it's okay to ask personal questions." Emma smiles at me apologetically.

"That's okay," I tell her with a smile.

She tells me to trail behind her and then we disappear into our separate cars. I follow her out and onto the road. Finally having a stable place to live is a total weight off my shoulders. Now I don't have to feel like an intruder at Bradley's and I don't have to keep secrets from Carrie.

As we drive, I try to recall all the things I know about Emma.

We met in 7th grade, she has two older brothers who live away from home, she is going to State next year, she is dating a guy named Frank who goes to Jackson, she loves shopping at Clare's, her favorite band is Maroon 5-

Emma's house is exactly two streets away from Bradley's. It's also bigger and has more windows.

I park on the street because, counting Emma's car, there are already three in the driveway, leaving no room for my Beetle. Hopping out, I pull my suitcase out of the back and roll it up to the front door where Emma is waiting for me.

"My Mom texted me and said she made us pizza rolls," Emma says, and as she does my stomach growls.

We walk up the front steps. "Achoo!" I sneeze.

"Bless you," Emma says.

"Thanks."

Just knowing we have pizza rolls waiting is making my mouth water. As we cross the threshold, a little black dog comes out of nowhere and begins jumping on my leg, barking happily. I scratch him behind the ear.

"His name is Charley," Emma tells me. "You can leave your suitcase at the bottom of the stairs for now. I'm freaking starving."

She walks into the kitchen and I leave my suitcase out of the way at the bottom of the stairs before following.

"Hello, Georgia!" Emma's Mom exclaims when I walk in. She is placing an equal amount of pizza rolls on two separate plates. Emma stands behind her, watching with hungry eyes.

"Hello," I reply. Charley is sitting at my feet, staring up at me. "Achoo!" I sneeze loudly, scaring Charley under the table.

"Bless you," Emma and Emma's Mom say at the same time.

Emma's mother gives us the plates and sits with us at the kitchen table as we eat. She asks me questions about my favorite food, movie, band and book (Chinese, Dirty Dancing, don't have one, Four Past Midnight). And then she asks some questions about my home life.

"Where is your father?" She ponders, cupping her chin in the palm of her hand.

"He moved to Manhattan after he and my Mom divorced." I shove a pizza roll in my mouth.