The light pierced into my eyes; temporarily blinding me. I physically cringed at the sound of his voice and froze in front of the fridge. This can’t be happening.
Slowly twisting around with the container in one hand and a fork in the other, our eyes met. Unfortunately I still had a mouth full of pasta I had to swallow and I did so loudly.
His arms were crossed and I took in his appearance. Sweatpants, a black and white t-shirt with a vintage camera in the front, and his oh-so-lusciously tousled pecan locks.
I pursed my lips, trying to make myself look intimidating, but a blush crawled onto my cheeks instead. Tartar sauce. His eyes widened ever-so-slightly and his very own shade of pink clouded his neck. Clearing his throat he tightened his grip on his crossed arms and stared me down.
“You can’t avoid me forever Emmy. And even if you could…I wouldn’t let you.” His resolve crumbled a little, almost as if doubting himself, but he immediately picked it back up and dared me to defy him.
A deep sigh slipped out and I put the container on the counter, closing the fridge. I was only stalling for time of course, still being in slight shock from his words. What was that even supposed to mean? He wouldn’t let me?
“I know…” I exhaled again and tugged at my sweater. But another blush clawed at me as I recounted the memory and I found my hand smacked to my face. “It’s just…it’s just…”
“I know. You didn’t mean it.” A glance at his face revealed an emotion. Dejection? “But can’t we just move on? Step over this?” He took a step forward and stared me down with pleading eyes.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I took a step in reverse, pressing my back against the fridge. “You want to forget it?” There. All cards on the table.
I studied his hesitant face; memorizing every crease and furrowed eyebrows. His concentrating eyes stared at the cream spot next to my head. “No.” He finally concluded.
Ha. Knew it. He doesn’t want to remember anyth-What? I nearly choked on the air in my lung. “Excuse me?”
“I-I don’t want to forget about anything. Ever since you came; I didn’t want to miss a moment or word you said.”
“B-But it’s only been a week and a half.” I’m definitely not following.
“I know. But you make me laugh.” That’s it? I make him laugh? What kind of a ridiculous answer is that? I heard a soft chuckle from his end and his eyes sparkled when he looked at me. Or was that just the lighting? “You’re so painfully awkward sometimes and I find myself remembering things you say at the most random times. And I laugh.”
Enchantment flowed through my veins. Was he serious? I never make anyone laugh. Even Lydia. I’m the awkward loner who states random and insignificant facts during lunch period. My idea of fun is writing essays for crying out loud! Not the most interesting person out there; that’s for sure.
“R-Really?”
He took another step towards me, grinning like a psychopath.
“Really.” He laughed again and a subconscious smile slipped onto my face. “I remember when I went out to find you in the rain. You said I smelled like fire.”
A rapid blush flushed my face again. Did he have to bring that up?
“Or when we first saw each other and your eyes nearly bugged out of your sockets. I thought you were going to faint. Or when you-“
“Ok, ok I get it. That’s enough.” I held out my hand as if pushing an imaginary stop button.
A strange look filled his eyes and he brushed a stray section of hair away. “Don’t change Emmy. Ever.” Butterflies sored circles inside my stomach at his nickname.
“I-I won’t.”
He blinked a few times, as if snapping out of a trance and pink filled his complexion. “Good. Now,” He hesitated, as if looking for the right words to say. “Now don’t avoid me.” He cleared his throat and stepped back a few paces. Pointing an accusing finger at me, he repeated himself as he retreated. “No avoiding.” He raises his eyebrow.
A soft laugh came from me. “No avoiding.” I repeated and he nodded, leaving the room with his hands in his pockets; as if nothing had happened and he only needed a snack.
Running both my hands through my hair I stared blankly ahead. What just happened?
YOU ARE READING
A Summer's Dream
Teen FictionEmily Walker had always tried her best in everything. She got good grades, didn't rebel against her parents, and tried to be prepared for life. But what happens when it throws a curve ball and she can't hit it in time? Her parents are getting a divo...
