12

zomg novel project:

9:02

My words escaped in a rush, a flood of explanation. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but my friends—they’re real assholes, trust me—told me that they’d kill me if I came inside without talking to a girl first, and so I’m sorry that I interrupted you, or whatever, but can you just talk to me really fast, ‘cause I swear I suck at lying and they’ll know, and I’m Emerson.” I sucked in a breath, mostly because I needed it, but also so that I would shut the hell up. Maybe this was the reason there’d never been any girl but Triss.



Her half-smile dropped into a real one, lips slit open by a blade of self-mockery.

“Oh, good,” she sighed, her voice light and airy—but not comically so—in comparison to mine. “That explains a lot. I’d been sure that you’re someone who I knew, but couldn’t remember, and those situations are horrible embarrassing, are they not?”

“Definitely.” Her voice was lilting, and mine was deep, and they sounded odd together, but sort of nice. She bounced up and down on her toes, as if she were cold. I couldn’t see that being the case, though—it wasn’t that cold out, and the girl had a scarf on and everything. Her white tights made her seem fragile.

“I’m Emerson,” I offered again, shifting uncomfortably, looking for an introduction. Damn, this was awkward. Things weren’t this awkward when I was asking Triss on our first date…but then again, I’d known Triss for forever, so there had never been an introduction.

The new girl tugged at her scarf. “Samantha.” It suited her.

“Awesome,” I muttered, feeling like an idiot.

A few seconds of awkward silence ensued, but then the girl, Samantha, leaned next to me against the car. “So,” she began, and I was thankful she’d started the conversation, “why do you have to talk to a girl?”

I rolled my eyes and kept my gaze straight ahead. “Because they’re assholes. And they think that they can make me do stuff.”

Her tone was bemused. “And why do you need forcing? Scared of cooties?”

I grimaced. “No. I broke up with my girlfriend.” It sort of hurt to say that. Habitually, I looked at my phone. 9:03. Sixty-five seconds, maybe, since I’d last thought of her.

Samantha hissed sympathetically. “I’m so sorry.”

I shrugged, and my arm brushed against hers. She shivered. She was going to leave soon, and then I could finally watch my movie. Steve and Mike would be off my case.

When I made no move to further the conversation—my desire to not make a moron of myself was probably my most defining trait—she offered, “I’m stuck in town until about four in the morning.”

There was an easy opening. “Why?”

A sigh and, “My best friend’s boyfriend lives here, and I’m her ride home.” She didn’t seem particularly annoyed, just sort of wondering. Wondering how she would fill seven hours, perhaps? “She’s got this party thing, and told me to pick her up at four.”

Again, she left me an easy opening. I was starting to like this girl, just on that point. “Where’s home?”

She sounded almost embarrassed, “Princeton.” I don’t know what her deal was. I’d been to Princeton once, on a school trip. It was pretty nice, I guess, with all these trees and flowers and stuff.

“Nice,” I muttered.

“Thanks,” she muttered back.

Silence again.

“So,” Samantha drawled, only the slightest edge of nervousness in her voice. “You busy for the next seven hours?”

Aw, hell. I was going to kill Mike and Steve. Kill them, and then probably scatter their entrails across a thousand cities, and then set those little bits of them in fire, and then jump on the pieces, and then spit on the ashes. It would be great. I’d have so many frequent flyer miles that I could go to college wherever I felt like it, and I’d never be in awkward situations like this again.

“It’s not a date,” she assured me quickly, head nodding expressively. “I know you just got out of a relationship and I… I’m not looking for one either. I just, you know, have a lot of time to kill.”

I felt disloyal, like I was breaking some promise to Triss, and to myself. Besides, I didn’t want to go out with this girl that I barely knew. I wanted to watch the damn movie, and then go home, and take a handful of Advil and like six tablespoons of Robitussin, for a guaranteed twelve hours of sleep, and probably a few hours after that where I was still too cracked-out to think. I could do that on Friday. Drug-induced stupor wasn’t an option on school nights.

“And you don’t seem to be too busy, and it’ll get your friends off your case, probably.”

Well, there was a good point. Getting Mike and Steve to back the hell off—note to self: get less annoying friends—would definitely be an added perk of this. Well, it would be, but I really didn’t want to. She was pretty, and seemed kinda nice, but Triss would hate me. She’d be really mad that I’d gone out with another girl so soon.

“Please?”

“Sure.”

I was suddenly sort of pissed off at my girlfriend…ex-girlfriend. Sort of pissed that I’d gotten so blindsided. Pissed that she’d dumped me for no good reason.

Samantha looked pleased, but probably, I figured, because she’d found a way to kill time, not because she actually wanted to hang out with me. “My car’s this way,” she said, nodding her head in the appropriate direction.

“This is my car,” I offered, thumping it with my elbow.

“I’ve got all my stuff in mine.”

“Okay.”

Well, I was about to do all the things they warn you not to do from kindergarten on up. I was talking to a stranger, and now I was going to get in her car. She had that oh-I’m-so-sweet look about her, but those were the ones you had to look out for. Maybe she would chloroform me and then kill me and bury me in a shallow grave. Maybe that would suck less than seeing Triss on Monday.
I sent a text to Mike. “going out w/ girl. get ur own ride home.” Served them right, to get stranded.

We stopped next to a small, neat car that looked like it had been kicking around since the dawn of time. Samantha unlocked the door, jerked her head over at the passenger seat for me, and turned it on. “So,” she asked, unbuttoning her coat as she turned up the heat as high as it would go, “where do you want to go?”