finally made myself look away. I pushed open the door and got out to go face some demons.
Chapter Six
I kissed Emmet again the night of my dad’s funeral. My mom had locked herself in her bedroom and my dad’s siblings and a few other random relatives were sitting in our home saying terrible things about my mom and my dad. The things they were saying were true, but they weren’t trying to be helpful. They were putting themselves on pedestals, separating themselves from us as if they were somehow better people. There aren’t better people. Just better circumstances. I was only nearly fifteen and I got that. Why didn’t they?
“I’m going out for a walk,” I had said as I walked through the living room with my board under my arm. “And when I come back I want you all out of my house.”
“Who she talking to?” I heard my Aunt Amanda snap. “Oh, I know you’re not talking to me, little girl.”
I whirled around and looked at the gossipy, hypocritical bunch.
“None of you ever came over here to help before,” I snapped. “Don’t sit there and pretend that you give a shit when you don’t. No one ever came over here to make sure I was okay or to make sure mommy was eating and none of you ever came over to check to make sure she was still breathing. Get out of our house. You don’t belong here.”
I slammed the door behind me and before I could skate away, my aunt was in the door yelling at my back about how she was going to kick my ass if I ever spoke to her like that again and that I was in no position to tell her what to do and I’m just as crazy as my mom. With restraint I barely had, I skated away without looking back.
I had found myself back at that parking lot where I had kissed Emmet. It was dark at nearly eight-thirty in late October. There was a soft hum from the tall lampposts that bathed the lot in soft light. I really shouldn’t have been out there by myself in the dark. It was set back away from any main roadways and there were few houses or open businesses in the vicinity, but I really wanted to clear my head.
I had been moving in slow lazy arches for some time when I saw the headlights of a car. I started to worry that it was going to be some psychopath out for his nightly killing and raping, but when the car stopped a few yards from where I stood on my board, I realized that it wasn’t a psychopath at all. It was just Emmet. I looked on with curiosity as he got out of the car, reached inside and then produced his board. Did he know I would be there, or was it a coincidence?
“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself in the dark,” he said, stopping in front of me.
“I’m not by myself,” I said pointedly.
“You were before I got here,” he said, dropping his board to the pavement.
I gave him a little shrug and pushed off and away from him. We rode in a comfortable silence for a long time. It was getting very cold and I was mad at myself that I had forgotten my gloves in my haste to get out of the house. I pushed my hands into my pockets but it wasn’t quite enough to keep them warm. Every few minutes I would take them out and rub them together and blow warm air onto them before pushing them back into my pockets. I stopped for a moment to adjust my jacket and pull my knit cap over my ears. Emmet stopped in front of me just as I started to rub my hands together again. Startling me, he grabbed my hands. He put them together as if I was about to pray and then he rubbed his hands over mine. I sighed happily as my hands began to heat up under the friction of his hands rubbing on mine. He bent over slightly and cupped his hands around mine and blew. My hands warmed, but so did my whole body.
What the hell was this feeling? What was with the tingling that started in my fingertips and radiated throughout my entire body?
“Better?” he asked softly as he slowly rubbed my hands.
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. Not with the way he was looking at me. Why did he have to have such
Chapter Six
I kissed Emmet again the night of my dad’s funeral. My mom had locked herself in her bedroom and my dad’s siblings and a few other random relatives were sitting in our home saying terrible things about my mom and my dad. The things they were saying were true, but they weren’t trying to be helpful. They were putting themselves on pedestals, separating themselves from us as if they were somehow better people. There aren’t better people. Just better circumstances. I was only nearly fifteen and I got that. Why didn’t they?
“I’m going out for a walk,” I had said as I walked through the living room with my board under my arm. “And when I come back I want you all out of my house.”
“Who she talking to?” I heard my Aunt Amanda snap. “Oh, I know you’re not talking to me, little girl.”
I whirled around and looked at the gossipy, hypocritical bunch.
“None of you ever came over here to help before,” I snapped. “Don’t sit there and pretend that you give a shit when you don’t. No one ever came over here to make sure I was okay or to make sure mommy was eating and none of you ever came over to check to make sure she was still breathing. Get out of our house. You don’t belong here.”
I slammed the door behind me and before I could skate away, my aunt was in the door yelling at my back about how she was going to kick my ass if I ever spoke to her like that again and that I was in no position to tell her what to do and I’m just as crazy as my mom. With restraint I barely had, I skated away without looking back.
I had found myself back at that parking lot where I had kissed Emmet. It was dark at nearly eight-thirty in late October. There was a soft hum from the tall lampposts that bathed the lot in soft light. I really shouldn’t have been out there by myself in the dark. It was set back away from any main roadways and there were few houses or open businesses in the vicinity, but I really wanted to clear my head.
I had been moving in slow lazy arches for some time when I saw the headlights of a car. I started to worry that it was going to be some psychopath out for his nightly killing and raping, but when the car stopped a few yards from where I stood on my board, I realized that it wasn’t a psychopath at all. It was just Emmet. I looked on with curiosity as he got out of the car, reached inside and then produced his board. Did he know I would be there, or was it a coincidence?
“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself in the dark,” he said, stopping in front of me.
“I’m not by myself,” I said pointedly.
“You were before I got here,” he said, dropping his board to the pavement.
I gave him a little shrug and pushed off and away from him. We rode in a comfortable silence for a long time. It was getting very cold and I was mad at myself that I had forgotten my gloves in my haste to get out of the house. I pushed my hands into my pockets but it wasn’t quite enough to keep them warm. Every few minutes I would take them out and rub them together and blow warm air onto them before pushing them back into my pockets. I stopped for a moment to adjust my jacket and pull my knit cap over my ears. Emmet stopped in front of me just as I started to rub my hands together again. Startling me, he grabbed my hands. He put them together as if I was about to pray and then he rubbed his hands over mine. I sighed happily as my hands began to heat up under the friction of his hands rubbing on mine. He bent over slightly and cupped his hands around mine and blew. My hands warmed, but so did my whole body.
What the hell was this feeling? What was with the tingling that started in my fingertips and radiated throughout my entire body?
“Better?” he asked softly as he slowly rubbed my hands.
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. Not with the way he was looking at me. Why did he have to have such
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