Tea For Two

14

Disclaimer: This is part of an original piece of fiction. It's mine. Don't steal it. Thanks. Enjoy.

~~~

On Friday night, I sit alone at my writing desk, counting the days until August rolls around on my calendar.

Emily had an especially hard-hitting practice today after school, and as soon as we got home, she had a sudden moment of responsibility and decided that she was going to actually do most of the homework she'd been issued.

"It's so we can spend all of tomorrow together," she had promised.

So I spend my entire night alone- dad is off at the auction house because tonight's auction is big money, he can't miss it, and I don't really consider my silent mother company.

As I sit there, holding my wall calendar that is marked with the birthdays and photographs of famous actors, directors, and writers, I feel conflicted. The month of April is almost over now, so I have just over three months until August happens, and Emily moves back in with her dad. At first, three months sounds like forever- except for the bit where it ends, of course- but when I think about how quickly this most-of-a-month with Em has flown by, it feels like it could end tomorrow.

I've been trying not to think about it, but every now and then, it will slip back into my thoughts and jab me like a red-hot branding iron- a really painful reminder.

I still haven't told her yet that I know she's leaving, and she hasn't taken it upon herself to tell me, either. Though I get the sneaking suspicion that she knows that her stepdad told me. I'm just not sure about it.

When I put down the calendar again, I decide I'm not going to worry about it- she'll tell me when she feels the time is right.

~~~

Our Saturday morning is pretty much ideal- we're curled up on her sofa, eating bagels and drinking mango white tea (my most recent splurge), and watching Tom and Jerry. She's pulled all of the blankets and pillows off of her bed, and we're equally wrapped up in all of that as we are each other.

"I just don't understand why they never talk to each other," she says. "They both live in the house, and all they ever do is wail on each other."

"Actually, they do eventually talk," I reply.

"Really?"

"Yeah, in the movie version. They talk about how they need each other as opposition."

"Huh. Was it any good?"

"Not really."

We watch for a moment as the iconic mouse ran back into his hole, trapping the cat's nose in it as he ran to chase his enemy.

She starts the conversation up again.

"Aug, baby, wake up."

Huh?

Her mouth isn't matching up to the words I'm hearing- like in those badly dubbed Kung Fu flicks I would rather eat worms than admit to anyone that I love so much, I devour them like popcorn.

Then another voice I certainly didn't invite here interrupts.

"If she doesn't want to get up, let her sleep. Leave her a note or something. "

"I don't want to," replies Emily, her words making the room around me shimmer like the road ahead on a scalding hot summer day. It completely falls apart as I feel a hand on my shoulder, shaking me to reality.

As is normal when I wake up, I gasp and jerk upwards- which is not as good of an idea right now as usual. Somehow, I'd fallen asleep on my desk, and the shelf above it that held my reference books as well as some of my all-time favorite films greeted the crown of my head with a sharp crack! that had my eyes streaming with a few useless tears.