Christmas sucks.
When Emily Shepherd's boss boyfriend cheats on her with her best friend, she loses everything in one night-love, friendships, job, and home. In a weird fit of desperation (or some deep-rooted need to punish herself even more) she m...
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In her dream, she was trying to reach her algebra book from the top portion of her locker. She had one foot inside the locker, using it as a step stool, but she still had to stretch. Then, something caught her eye, and she looked over her shoulder.
Leo—young Leo from high school—was walking by. His eyes flicked up, met hers, and he smiled. It was the same Leo smile she'd come to anticipate these last several days, just younger. Her own smile tickled the corners of her lips. And then she woke up.
She flipped the pillow over and rolled to her other side. Was that a memory? Or just a dream brought on by looking through the yearbook for over an hour with Leo tonight?
She closed her eyes again and this time, she was on her way to her locker in between classes, for some reason. The hall was completely empty. But when she passed the music room, someone opened the door and exited. The relative silence was broken by the clear notes of a tenor, and Billy Joel's Vienna Waits for You, not quite ruined by Miss Cuzak's sharp voice as she clapped and intoned tempo. "Di-dah, di-dah, di-dah-da-dah."
She stopped, and through the open door, she could see Leo, in front of three or four girls humming back up. His eyes met hers and he smiled as he sang. Then Miss Cuzak followed that line of sight and gave her a sour look. She marched over and shut the door hard enough to wake Emily up.
She sighed heavily and rolled over again. As she drifted off, she was standing in front of her locker again. Taped to the front was a cream-colored envelope. She knew what it was. She'd seen other girls get these. A prom invitation.
She glanced down the hallway in all directions. Some girls on the other side of the hall looked her way, but then went back to whatever conversation they were having before. A guy was having trouble getting his locker to open. He looked up, but then looked away, embarrassed. Everyone else was so focused on their own things they weren't concerned with her.
Emily stared at the envelope again. She didn't know anyone well enough that they would ask her to the prom. In fact, she didn't know any boys well enough to speak to them. So this—this prom invite—was a joke. Someone wanted her to get excited about the idea of someone actually liking her so they could laugh at how stupid she was.
They were likely somewhere, just waiting for her to open this envelope. They were waiting for her to smile, blush, feel wanted or noticed. But Emily would not give them the satisfaction. She'd already given this school enough to laugh at.
She snatched the envelope down from the front of her locker and walked across the hall to the nearest trashcan. She crumbled the paper in her hand as she dropped it in. She looked around, defiantly, as she went back to her locker to get her books.
No one seemed to notice her gesture. The girls across the hall still talked. The guy fiddling with his locker, the teacher at the end of the hall, the mass of people just walking by, doing their thing.
