"Yes," I responded, finally finding a reason to smile for the first time all day. "That sounds perfect." It was still all about waiting for Friday―for my date with Evan, and for Jonathan to come home to... tell my mother he was moving to California. But I refused to think about that part. I would deal with the repercussions of his talk with her after my date with Evan.
I kept Jill and Sara in between Analise and me during Evan's game. But it was hard to ignore her gleeful yelps whenever he'd block a shot or rebound the ball. Sara cocked her head toward Analise after a particularly enthusiastic round of cheering. She looked to me, about to say something, but I shook my head with a roll of my eyes. Sara laughed, reading my thoughts without a word.
"Are you coming with us for pizza?" Analise asked me as we made our way down the bleachers.
"I have practice," I told her, not thrilled that she was a part of the "we" Evan mentioned.
"Don't worry, I'll be there," Sara gushed in return, her smile a little too forced.
"Oh," Analise replied, her joy faltering slightly, "great."
Sara turned to me behind Analise's back with a wide mimicking smile, "Great."
I laughed and swatted her arm, "Don't be mean."
"Yeah, you're right." She groaned like it was difficult. "I'll be nice, I promise."
Sara was the easiest person in the world to get along with, and most people loved her instantly. But if she didn't like you... she could be vicious. She and I both knew that there was nothing particularly unlikable about Analise, but for some reason, we both found ourselves not exactly fond of her. I was actually kind of relieved that I wasn't the only one to harbor these inexplicable feelings toward the spritely girl who was eternally smiling.
"Evan, you were amazing," Analise praised merrily.
"Thanks," he responded. Finding me behind her, his eyes locked with mine. I squeezed by her and kissed him on the lips, despite the sweat that pressed against my cheeks. He exhaled slowly when I pulled away, "Thanks," he grinned, squeezing my hand.
"I should get ready for practice," I told him. "See you tomorrow?"
"I'll wait for you in the lobby," Analise told him, interrupting us.
"Okay, sure," Evan responded, glancing at her quickly. "I'll be a few minutes, but I'll find you."
I looked from Analise's blonde curls to Evan.
"I drove her," Evan explained, noticing the confusion on my face. I could only nod, afraid of what might spew out of my mouth if I opened it. He leaned down and kissed me again, "I'll see you tomorrow."
When I walked toward the locker room, my phone beeped.
Pathetic me going out with the girls after work. So so sorry about last night. Jonathan's back tomorrow―Yay! Promise to be good tonight!
Yup. Friday couldn't come fast enough.
20. No Such Thing as "Normal"
Nothing was going to keep me from enjoying every second of our date―nothing. Not Analise and her adorableness, or the fact that she had to sit next to Evan throughout my entire game―yes, I'd noticed. Not the fact that I hadn’t slept last night because I stayed up listening for my mother to come home. And when she finally did, she was staggering and giddy. And not even the fact that I was running late because I left my lights on in the parking lot and Jill had to jump start my car. I was determined to have an amazing night.
I jiggled my key free from the front door and slammed it behind me, barely noticing as I raced up that my mother had left the lights on at the top of the stairs. I flipped off my sneakers and flung them across my room, peeled off my socks and left them on the floor, then threw my sweaty game jersey in the hamper. I was struck with déjà vu―recognizing how similar this felt to the night Evan took me to the concert. All that was missing was Jonathan walking through the door unexpectedly.
I ran to the bathroom in my shorts and a sports bra, pushing open the door and shutting it behind me in one swift motion. And then I stopped in my tracks. Irony punching me in the face…
"Hey?" Jonathan stood in front of me gripping the waistband of his running pants, his dark brown eyes staring at me in shock.
"Uh, sorry," I gaped, instinctively crossing my arms over my chest as I stood immobilized in front of the door. Sweat ran down the side of his face, along the tendons of his thick neck and over the grooves of his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His face was still flushed and his sweaty t-shirt was crumpled on the bathroom floor. I clamped my mouth shut―it had inadvertently flopped open. "I didn't know you were here."
I quickly turned around and gripped the handle of the door. I had started to open it when Evan called out, "Em? I'm here."
I clicked the door shut. "Shit," I said through clenched teeth, banging my forehead against the frame. "Uh, I'm running late," I hollered through the door. "I'll be down in a little bit."
"Okay," he responded.
I breathed with my head still pressed against the wood, trying to figure out what to do.
"Wow," Jonathan breathed behind me, "this is awkward."
I spun around and glared at him. "You think?"
"So... you have a date?" he asked casually like we weren't standing in front of each other half nak*d and sweaty.
"Jonathan!" I scolded with wide eyes. "What am I supposed to do? How do I explain you coming out of the bathroom while I'm supposed to be taking a shower?!" I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
"It's okay," Jonathan soothed. But his comical expression lingered. "Just take a shower."
"What?!" I snapped, a little too loudly, then covered my mouth with my hand and listened, praying my voice hadn't carried downstairs. I heard the squeak of the front door and the rattling of the glass when it closed.
"Evan?" my mother acknowledged. "How are you? Where's Emily?"
My eyes couldn't stretch any wider without popping out of my head. Jonathan let out a small laugh, and my mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"She's taking a shower," he told her. "I guess she got held up after the game and she’s running late."
"Emily!" my mother bellowed, the creaks of the stairs drawing closer. "Are you almost done?"
The handle jiggled, and the door started to push open. I thrust my back against it, slamming it in her face.
"Hey!" she cried out.
"Sorry," I grimaced, latching the door so she couldn't open it. "I'm about to get in the shower. Do you need to get in here?"
"I can wait," she told me. "Have you seen Jonathan? He was supposed to be here by now."
I stared across from me as he pressed his mouth into a smile to keep from laughing. I was so annoyed I wanted to throw something at him.
"Uh, no," I replied, "but I didn't really look for him either."
Jonathan couldn't hold back and let out a constrained, breathy laugh.
"Stop!" I mouthed, my brows pulled together in warning. He only smiled wider.
"Okay, well, Evan's waiting for you."
"I know. I'll hurry." I closed my eyes and shook my head, knowing I had no choice. When I heard her walk away, I whispered, "Fine. I'll take a shower, but you have to stand by the door."
"Don't worry," he smirked, "I won't peek."
"Funny," I snapped sarcastically. "We have to switch spots so I can get to the shower. Please don't make this any more awkward than it already is."
In order to exchange places in this closet of a bathroom, I had to shimmy past him, pressed between the bathtub and the sink.
I turned my head to the side, inching past him with my stomach sucked in to avoid touching him. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and inhaled the mix of sweat and a crisp cologne that reminded me of the ocean. His slick skin slid across mine, despite my efforts to be as small as possible.
Jonathan chuckled from above me. I tilted my head up, our faces inches apart. "We have to stop meeting like this," he teased. I pulled past him quickly, my heart racing.
I picked up his damp t-shirt and threw it at him, making him laugh even more. I shook my head in exasperation and stepped into the tub just as Jonathan turned toward the door. I secured the shower curtain and stripped off the rest of my clothes, my heart beating so fast I was still sweating.
I cracked the curtain enough to drop my damp clothes in front of the toilet before turning on the water. It was the fastest shower of my life―and I'd been forced to take some pretty quick showers. I somehow managed to wash my hair and body at the same time.
When I turned off the water, I peeked out from behind the curtain, but Jonathan was gone. The door was closed but the latch was undone. I took a deep breath and grabbed for the towel.
"Jonathan?" my mother's confused voice trailed up the stairs. "You've been here this whole time?"
Realizing I hadn't brought any clothes in the bathroom with me, I took my mother's bathrobe off the hook on the closet door and secured it around me.
"I was using Emily's computer," he explained calmly. He was a very convincing liar, I almost believed him. "I was on a video chat with the office, so I couldn't get off when you came in. Sorry."
Without listening to whether or not my mother bought his story, I opened the door and scurried to my room, catching a quick glimpse of Jonathan watching me out of the corner of my eye. I thought I noticed him grin. My face continued to radiate heat.
"I'm out of the bathroom," I called behind me, shutting my door.
"I'm going to take a shower, okay? I didn't get to after my run," I heard Jonathan tell her from outside my room.
I plugged in my hair dryer and let the hum block it all out―the lying, the hint of suspicion in my mother's tone, the racing beat of my heart that hadn't quite recovered from being stuck in the bathroom with Jonathan.
I could hear music playing downstairs when I turned off the hair dryer, and the water was running in the bathroom. I gathered my hair and pinned it into a bun at the nape of my neck―the only design of Sara's I was able to replicate fairly well. I retrieved the dress from the back of my closet and removed the plastic cover with a smile. I knew this was going to be perfect for our normal date.
I took a deep breath, inspecting myself once more in the full length mirror, swishing the hemline of the red empire dress as I turned side to side. I tried to find the calm that would return the shade of my skin to its natural tone. As long as I didn't see Jonathan before we left, I thought I should be okay.
I finally emerged from my room, somewhat composed. I could hear Evan and my mother talking in the living room where the music was playing. From the sounds of it, she was providing her own version of Storytellers, with animated tales of the bands she'd seen and the insanity that had ensued.
The skirt of the dress brushed against my thighs as my hand slid along the railing. Hearing my footsteps, Evan stepped into the foyer. His eyes lit up, calming me instantly. Then I heard the sound of the door opening behind me. I refused to turn back, fearful of being enveloped in flames.
"You look so beautiful, Emily," my mother sung with a smile on her face.
"Yeah," trickled through the air, barely audible. I'd expected it to come from Evan, but the word drifted down the stairs, and I almost faltered on a step.