Taylor’s voice continued over the phone, but Emma felt her dad’s hand on her wrist, lowered her phone to pay more attention to her surroundings. “…and I wish I’d listened to my dad, because he suggested at least ten times that I might want to take more books, and I only brought three, and I’ve read each of them twice already.
It gave her hope that things could get back to normal. This? This inane, aimless, stupid, one-sided conversation where she’d said one word? This was the good stuff. Not that Taylor was a wet blanket, but, like, maybe she was a damp blanket? Sometimes she’d call, they’d do their customary hanging out, and she’d feel like the time was wasted, afternoons and weekends spent with her best friend that she didn’t enjoy. It hadn’t been easy, Emma mused, as Taylor yammered on. Lately there had been too many movies, too many activities and topics of conversation, that Taylor preferred to avoid. Anything went, however they wanted to amuse themselves, whatever they wanted to talk about. Before, it had been almost no holds barred. Her smiles not quite as wide, she was a second later to laugh, as if she had to wait, to give herself permission to do it, had to hold back. She’d lost her mother a year ago, and hadn’t bounced back, not entirely. It was something of a relief, to hear Taylor getting excited about something, to hear her getting excited over nothing. We rowed across the lake this morning to this waterfall, only it wasn’t exactly a water fall, more like a water stair, and we were all taking turns sliding and falling down this set of slick rocks, and Elsa, she’s this girl wearing a bikini, she’s been spending the last three days acting like she’s hot stuff, she slides down the wrong part, and it catches on the strap, right? It doesn’t tear it off, but it stretches, so it doesn’t even fit her anymore …”Įmma laughed, leaning back against her car seat. “Ok I gotta talk fast because I only have two minutes and I need my other fifty cents to call my dad. She could imagine the other youths lined up to use the pay phones. There was a babble of other voices in the background. “Emma!” The voice on the other end was breathy, excited. Like, I could never have my hair short, but-” She stopped mid-sentence, answering her phone mid-ring. “Why not call her Christine? Perfectly nice name.” “Christine,” Emma injected a note of condescension into her voice, “Last weekend? Or did you forget already?” “Not every house! Like, when I went to Chris’ birthday party? I-” “Every house has something wrong with it.”
It’s like… show me any house, and I can point out ten things that are wrong with it.” My lifestyle, specifically, is owning the house I’m going to live in until I die.”Įmma frowned, turning to look out the window. I can foist the first two off on your mom, but the third is a lifestyle choice. One is matching socks, the second is ironing, and the third is moving. “There’s three jobs I absolutely despise in this world. “Maybe you give a second thought to moving? There’s really nice places just a little way South, and I’d still be going to the same school, and-” A bag with assorted tubs of ice cream sat on the divider between the pair of them. He checked over his shoulder and then turned the car into a side street. “And?” she could hear a weariness in her father’s voice. “Or, or, or, maybe I don’t pick any, and…” “Ballet, horseback riding, modeling classes or violin.
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