CHAPTER FOURTEEN Joshua
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Joshua
I can’t sleep. My body is stuck in New York time, and it’s used to doing physical work by now. I’ve been in my bed for hours, waiting for exhaustion to come. Emily and I were convincing at dinner earlier. And if it’s gonna be as easy as that, then I have nothing to worry about.
I look at my phone and notice a notification I wasn’t able to acknowledge earlier. It’s the shared note Emily sent me in the car. Opening it, I grin at what she wrote there.
I prop myself up, and make my edits to the notes, and wait for her to notice. But she doesn’t. Instead, I receive a text.
TANTRUM EM: You up?
A smile tugs at my lips at the sight of her nickname on my screen, already feeling more awake as I reply.
JOSHUA (ME): You know I am. To what do I owe the pleasure? ;)
TANTRUM EM: Can't sleep. Walk with me?
JOSHUA (ME): I'll be out in 2 mins.
I don’t know why the thought of walking excites me, but I put on a shirt and change into gym shorts, slip on my shoes, and head out the door. When I see Emily step out of their house, she spots me instantly and flashes a smile. The kind that lights up her whole face and does something to my chest I can’t quite explain. Suddenly, being awake doesn’t seem so bad.
“Miss me already?” I say, trying to keep it cool.
She rolls her eyes as usual, but she says, “Honestly? Yeah.” I look at her in obvious shock, but she simply just chuckles as she adds, “Apparently you’re the only one I don’t have to lie to. I needed a reset.”
She stretches her arms and proceeds to walk forward. She’s wearing a tank top and her hair is up in a bun. I can’t help but comment on the rose tattoo peeking from her back. “Nice tattoo.”
She whirls around to face me. “Thanks, it used to only be the rose. I got it with the girls,” she says. “When I got to New York, I had the thorns added. Thought it gave it more meaning. Sometimes I regret it, though, it feels a bit tacky now.” She lets out a self-deprecating laugh.
“No, it’s not,” I say. And before I can stop myself, I add, “It’s beautiful.”
Her eyes flick to mine, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve gone too far. I should really stop voicing my obvious physical attraction to her. In no way will this benefit us both. My beliefs haven’t changed and she just got out of a serious relationship. Oh, and we’re just faking it.
Emily smirks. “Of course you think that, you’re a human coloring book,” she says, gesturing to my arm. I laugh at her statement and continue to walk beside her.
I don’t know where we’re going, but this moment reminds me of that time we went on a mystery date in Manhattan. The streets couldn’t be more different. New York is noisy and chaotic, even at two in the morning. Here, it’s quiet. The only things we hear are the rustling of the trees and the hum of insects at night. However different the places are, the feeling is all the same. It’s easy, effortless. Like nothing else exists outside of this.
And as if she’s reading my thoughts, Emily says, “It’s like that night in New York all over again.” She looks ahead, her eyes staring at the neon sign from a distance. It looks like we’re headed to Lily’s—our neighborhood convenience store and hangout spot that’s open 24/7.
“Yeah. And again, we’re escaping reality. A reality that we created, by the way,” I say with a chuckle.
“Looks like we’re back to being…” Emily trails off.
“Whatever this is?” I finish for her.
“Yeah. Exactly,” Emily smiles at me. “Thanks for being my escape person.”
“Always a pleasure,” I say.
The bell jingles as we enter inside, the sound almost nostalgic. The store is as empty as the streets outside, not that I expected any company at this hour. I look around, taking in the scene. It’s been years since I saw this place last, but it’s as if nothing has changed much, except for the flatscreen TV that used to be a large box type. Nostalgia is making its way deeper into me as I observe the worn-out linoleum floors, the rows of shelves filled with snacks from our childhood, and even the familiarity of the smell. It smells like old books and coffee and instant ramen combined. I know it doesn’t sound like it smells good, but it does. It’s that Lily’s scent.
I glance over to Emily to see her do the same. Her eyes are sweeping all over the place as if she’s trying to memorize every detail. The aisles line up on the right side of the store, and the left side is a lounge filled with mismatched furniture that is either faded or scratched up.
Normally, there’d be a cashier here, but instead, there’s just an honesty box on the counter, a handwritten sign taped above it: ‘Take what you need. Pay what you can.’ Manang Linda, the store owner, never did care much about profit. She probably hasn’t changed her system in years, and I bet she wouldn’t mind if we took a soda or two without paying. Not that we’d do that, of course, but it’s the beauty of small villages—everyone trusts everyone.
“Do you want some wafer sticks?” Emily asks as she walks toward the aisles, already on her way to the wafer sticks.
“Do I want them or do you want them?” I chuckle as I drop money in the honesty box. “I’m in the mood for something salty. Maybe some corn chips.”
I remember being a teenager here. I’d hang out here with Ryan since he’s the only one close to my age. I’d bring over some friends from school and we’d just chill.
This was also where I had my first real dates. Looking back, it’s funny how grand those dates felt at the time—sipping sodas and eating chips like it was the most romantic setup in the world. I remember one date in particular. I was sixteen, and Emily and Bon were just eleven. They showed up out of nowhere, both of them with scraped knees from some biking adventure gone wrong. My date ended early because I had to clean them up and make sure they were okay. I didn’t even mind. It felt like second nature to protect them and watch out for them.
Emily’s presence right now reminds me of those simpler times. When life was all wafer sticks and scraped knees.
As we get snacks and cold drinks from the fridge, we settle onto the couch. I take a sip of my beer and glance at Emily. She’s poking a straw through her choice of beverage: chocolate milk.
“I’ve had enough wine tonight, thank you very much.” She takes a sip.
“Then how come you’re not knocked out like everyone else? And don’t tell me it’s jet lag,” I say.
“Okay, fine. I know my alcohol limit. And I never really drink too much with them,” she admits. “Or anyone, really.” She reaches out toward the other couch and grabs a pillow as she crosses her legs comfortably.
“Why?” I ask. I know it’s none of my business how Emily takes her alcohol, but I know it’s not just about that.
Emily pauses for a while, as if contemplating how to tell me. “Because someone has to stay sober to keep everyone in check,” she says with a laugh. “Bon vomits like a madman. Haley sings more often than she does on stage. And Kate… clings to whoever’s closest. Who will take care of them?” She jokingly points and wiggles both her thumbs to herself.
I chuckle at the way she describes her friends, but something about her tone makes me pause. “And you?” I ask. “Who takes care of you?”
Emily stops mid-bite, the wafer stick between her lips. She takes a bite and slowly lowers the wafer, chewing thoughtfully before responding. Her eyes dart to me as she mutters, “I make sure no one has to.” There’s a smile on her face, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
The way she says it hits me in a place I wasn’t expecting. There’s strength in her words, but also a kind of loneliness. I know that it isn’t about her alcohol intake, it’s about the need to always be the one holding things together, the glue that keeps everyone from falling apart. I know because… I feel the same way. All the responsibility and no one to share the burden with.
“That sounds exhausting,” I say, trying to keep things light. It’s starting to hit closer to home, and I can’t have that. I don’t think of stuff like that.
Emily shrugs, looking away, her eyes wandering around the store like she’s searching for an escape. “You get used to it,” she says, like trying to convince herself more than me. She starts fidgeting with the edge of her tank top.
Damn it. She doesn’t know that she’s an open book. I can see that this obviously bothers her, and I know I could stop here. I don’t have to push any further or go any deeper. It’s what I always do anyway. Deflect. But tonight feels different. She feels different. There’s something in the way her shoulders carry that invisible weight, in the way she brushes it off like it doesn’t matter, that makes me want to meddle. Something in me wants to reach out and be the person she doesn’t have to pretend around.
I prop my leg up on the couch and put my arm on the backrest to face her. “Tell you what,” I say. “Let’s make a deal.”
Emily raises an eyebrow, curious but wary. “What deal?” she asks, tucking one leg under her as she turns toward me. Her bun is starting to unravel, strands of hair falling loose around her face. She reaches up to pull the hair tie free, slipping it onto her wrist before running a hand through her hair.
It’s the simplest gesture, but it’s so incredibly attractive. Yes. That’s exactly what this is. I’m just physically attracted to her. Whatever this thing in my chest is, it’s just an itch. One I won’t ever scratch.
“Hello?” Emily asks. Looks like I’ve been staring at her for a while, so I flash a smile and continue.
“While we’re here in Manila, doing… whatever this is,” I chuckle, gesturing to the two of us. “Let me help you.”
“Help me how?” she asks.
“Next time you feel like you have to take care of everyone else, let me step in. I’ll take care of them…” I look at her intently, the store suddenly quieter than it was. “And you.”
It’s quiet, and Emily is staring at me like I said something weird. She leans closer and says, “Why?”
“Because…” I don’t even know what the answer is, but I say, “it’s what a good fake boyfriend would do.”
Emily blinks, then snorts, the corners of her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You’re ridiculous,” she says.
“Ridiculously helpful,” I quip, leaning back with a smirk.
“I might just take you up on that offer, you know.” Emily smiles knowingly.
“Good. I hope you do,” I raise my bottle. She lifts her chocolate milk in response, and the clink of our drinks is the only sound we hear in the quiet store.
We spend the next few minutes just talking about things, like we did during our Manhattan escapade. But this time, we didn’t have to omit personal stories. In fact, we talk about everything from the time we left Magnolia Heights.
For the first time since I arrived here, I finally feel like I want to rest, like my body is finally relaxing. So I lean into the couch, and Emily follows my lead, settling into the cushions beside me. Her shoulder brushes mine, a small, comfortable touch that grounds me more than I expected.
“Are you nervous about seeing Rob for the first time since the breakup?” I glance down at Emily, who’s fidgeting with her empty milk carton.
“Yes and no,” she says. When I raise my eyebrows, she continues. “Yes, because I don’t know what I’d feel when I see him. I’m not a big feelings person and I don’t usually react much, but I’ve also never been cheated on before, so I don’t know how I’ll handle that,” she says. “And no, because, well, I want him to be bothered by me.”
I nod, proud of her. “Did you two even talk about seeing each other again? I mean, it’s only been weeks since the breakup,” I say. My question comes out before I can stop it, though I’m not sure why I’m so interested. Maybe it’s curiosity. Or maybe I’m just trying to be prepared—researching, if you will—so I can play the part of a convincing fake boyfriend.
Emily lets out a dry chuckle and says, “Yeah. He even gave me the impression that he might propose to me soon. He talked about our future. I even bought a dress and everything.” She shrugs.
“A dress? That’s a bold move,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
“It’s a smart move!” she counters, a smile playing on her lips. “I didn’t want to be unprepared when he asked me out to dinner and proposed to me,” Emily chuckles. “But it seems ridiculous now.”
“The dress?”
“Oh, no. The dress is beautiful,” she says with a laugh.
“Pretty sure it’s you and not the dress,” I say, unable to hide my attraction once again.
“Thanks,” she says. She angles her body to face me, and squints. “You know, Josh, for someone who doesn’t want to catch feelings, you’re being purposefully charming.”
I cough, taken aback by her straightforwardness. I suppose there’s no point lying to her. “Well, you are admittedly pretty, I’m sure you know that,” I say. Her breath hitches at my revelation, like it did when we were standing in front of her apartment in Manhattan. “So forgive me if my natural charm slips out every now and then,” I say, winking at her as she rolls her eyes.
“As for the dress, it’s a shame if you don’t get to wear it. You should,” I quip.
“You’re right. I should wear the dress so I won’t have to associate it with Rob anymore,” she says. “I should wear it because I deserve to feel beautiful in it.”
“Damn right you do,” I say, chuckling, hoping to ease the heaviness. “In fact, one of these days, I’m gonna take you out to dinner, and you can wear that... what is it? Black?” I raise a brow.
She shakes her head with a playful glint in her eye.
“White?” I guess again, enjoying the way her lips curl into a teasing smile. Another shake of the head.
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s red.”
“What’s wrong with red?” she asks, mock-offended, her frown far too adorable to be taken seriously.
“Makes me weak in the knees,” I admit with a grin. There’s just something about the color red on a beautiful woman like Emily. Call it preference.
She bites her lip, clearly enjoying the moment. “Let’s just say,” she leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper, “it’s a color that makes people stop.…”
I look at her and say, “That sounds suspiciously like red.”
She laughs softly, the sound both teasing and warm. “Fire-engine, head-turning red,” she confirms with a wicked smile, her eyes daring me to respond.
“Well then,” I say, unable to resist the playful challenge, “I’ll take you out, and you can wear that red dress... and kill me right there at the table. I’ll be a goner.”
Emily crosses her arms, tilting her head as she considers. “Too bad, I kinda wanted you around a little longer,” she says, feigning a pout.
I laugh, and she chuckles with me. She smiles genuinely, and my heart swells. I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel protective of Emily again. I want to make sure she gets what she deserves. I’m definitely going to take her out and show that scumbag Rob what he missed. I can’t believe ever being loved by Emily and just throwing it all away. If I were in his position, I’d… probably mess it up in a whole different way.
“Thanks,” she says.
“Anytime, Tantrum.” I wink at her.
As we plan more ways to make Rob jealous, my mind shifts. I can’t believe something so fake can bring out something so real in me. But Emily has a certain lightness, like talking to her can cure every problem.
Too bad our whole dynamic will be over before I know it.