Make It Without You (Healing in Cincy #2)

1. Emily

Emily

2007

The First Meeting

“ E mily, sweetie! You’re going to be late for your first day!” My mom’s muffled calls out from downstairs and travels through my closed bedroom door.

I blow out a nervous breath as I stand in front of my floor-length mirror Mia Thermopolis style. My chameleon persona has me dressed in simple clothing. A dark navy cotton dress that hits right below my knees with cap sleeves and white Keds. My thick hair falls down my back and is pushed back with a navy-striped headband.

It’s my first day of high school with a new backpack, a fresh packet of ink pens, and never-used erasers on mechanical pencils. Really. It should be what dreams are made of.

Not my dreams.

I’ve been a loner in school for as long as I can remember. Add being in a new environment and my nerves shoot through the roof.

When I was in middle school I could handle it. Only three grades were in that school and I excelled amazingly well. I had the same kids in each of my classes, so I was able to get used to the familiarity of seeing them every day. But, high school? Where everyone has known each other since grade school? And I have to warm up to different kids in each of my classes. The thought that I’ll be alone until graduation has me considering begging my mom to have me home-schooled.

It’s not easy being a little fish in a big pond. But my parents always told me that people can smell fear. Like sharks in the ocean when they can smell blood.

Here goes nothing.

I grab my backpack from the back of my desk chair and pick up my violin case that’s right next to it. See, loner. Nerd. Music geek. But as long as I have a book or my violin with me, I don’t consider myself to ever be alone.

With one last longing glance at my room, which provided me with solitude for the majority of the summer, I heave an exaggerated sigh as I walk downstairs into the kitchen where my parents await. Should I join the drama department?

“Oh, honey. I can’t believe we have a high schooler among us. Can you believe that Mark?” My mom gushes when she sees me.

My Dad looks up from his newspaper and gives me a wink. “It was bound to happen sometime, Christie. Next thing you know, she’ll be off to college and married with kids.”

“Mark!?” My mom says with mock shock. “None of that. I just want her to stay my baby forever. Can you do that sweetie?” She asks with a little smile on her face.

“Does that mean I get to stay in my room forever?” I counter-offer.

She shakes her head and her smile vanishes. “No. Now eat some breakfast, you don’t want to be late for the bus.”

Gloria, our housekeeper, places some toast and bacon in front of me.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweet girl.”

Gloria has been with my family since before I was born. While my parents were getting their careers started in New York, she was with them. When I was born and got older, my parents decided they wanted to raise me in a more home-like environment and Gloria came with them. She taught me a lot when Mom and Dad were too busy building up their portfolios to get ahead in their jobs. They work as lawyers with the public relations teams for celebrities in New York. I don’t begrudge them for it because I was able to build a pretty solid relationship with her.

Once I finish breakfast, with my stomach in knots, my family walks me to the front door to see me off. Mom was way more emotional than I expected her to be. And I understand as I’m an only child about to start high school as the new kid. But I know Dad and Gloria will reassure her that I’ll be fine at school.

I’m walking towards the bus stop when I see a lone figure there. My nerves come alive again.

My hands start to sweat.

It’s too early to talk to new people.

Is he a freshman? Does he even go to school? Maybe I should keep a safe distance from him just in case.

“Hi,” the lone figure says to me when I come to a stop a foot away from him.

I give him a half-wave. “Hi.”

“I’m James,” he volunteers when I say nothing else. “What’s your name?”

After a pause, I respond, “Emily.”

“Are you a freshman?”

“Yes. Are you?” My conversation skills are lacking. But it’s hard to talk with kids my age when I grew up being treated like an adult.

He shakes his head. “No. I’m a sophomore.”

Disappointment ensues. Wait, why am I disappointed?

“Oh.”

“I think we’re neighbors,” James observes.

“We are?” I perk up at that.

“Yep. My family’s house is right next door to yours.” He points down the street towards the direction of our houses.

“Oh…” I’m sure my parents would have mentioned kids my age living in the neighborhood.

“We were out of town for most of the summer. So that’s probably why you didn’t know.” He says matter-of-factly with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I was out of town too,” I say, wondering why he keeps talking to me and questioning why I can’t string a full sentence together.

The roar of the bus turning down our street has my heart rate kicking into overdrive. My hands begin to sweat again and I have to adjust my hold on the handle of my violin case.

“Did you want to sit next to me on the bus?” His offer is so kind it makes me want to cry. Right here on the sidewalk.

I should say no. My loner status and all. But maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to have one friend at this school.

I find my head nodding in quick motion. “Okay.”

The bus pulls up, and James lets me on first. I pick a seat that’s not in the middle of the bus, but not in the front and slide in. My violin rests against the bus frame while my backpack comes to rest on my lap. James slides onto the seat next to me and puts his backpack on the bus floor. The jolt of the bus pulling forward to pick up more kids is terrifying, but also what a normal school experience should be like.

I never experienced this in New York. We lived a street over from my school so I either walked or my parents had a car drop me off and pick me up. A little part of me was envious of the kids who got to experience an early bus ride to school and a boisterous ride home at the end of the day.

The bus makes five more stops, filling up fairly quickly with the rest of the kids. At that, my knee starts bobbing up and down. It’s a nervous habit that I’ve had forever.

“Nervous?” James asks from next to me.

My gaze collides with James’s and my voice comes out soft, as it always does when I’m in an unfamiliar setting. “A little.”

“Don’t be,” he tells me like it’s that simple.

James does his best to make conversation with me. But my nerves have taken over my brain so conversation is short at best. And sooner than I hoped, we’re pulling up to the school.

“Where’s your first class?” He asks me when we’re both off the bus.

I unzip my backpack and pull out my class schedule, handing it to him wordlessly.

“Oh, that’s right down the hall from my class,” he exclaims. “I’ll show you where it’s at.”

“Don’t you have friends to get to?” I’m grateful but also confused as to why he’s helping me out.

He hands me back my schedule and I tuck it back into the front pocket of my backpack. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Well, two friends. Which I guess is all you need.” He admits with a shrug of his shoulders and I instantly feel bad.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. They’re plenty of friends for me.”

“But don’t you play sports?” He looks like the kind of boy who plays sports.

“Yep!”

“Oh.” My observation of him is correct. Because he’ll have his jock friends and I’ll have no one. Despite my loner status, the thought of having one friend made me happy.

I’m such a contradiction it’s annoying.

James walks me to where my class is supposed to be. I finally get a better look at him. He’s cute for a boy, tall, if not a little too leggy, his pants are a teensy bit too big and short on him, and he’s still got his baby fat on his face. His blond hair is overdue for a trim and his brown eyes are bright and alive. It’s as if he glows sunshine even on the cloudiest of days.

“Well, hopefully, we can have lunch together,” James tells me with a hopeful lilt to his voice as we stop in front of my classroom. “We can sit together and I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

“Yeah. That sounds good,” I say even though I’m absolutely terrified to meet more new people.

The bell rings signaling for students to get to class.

“Gotta get going. I’ll see you later, Emily.” He parts with a wave.

“Yeah. See ya.” I say with a small wave as I watch him become absorbed by the other students in the hallway until I can no longer see him.