6. Emma
6
EMMA
“ I t’s bullshit! It’s complete and utter bullshit. I can’t believe this happened to me, of all people. What the fuck did I do to piss off the karma gods, huh?”
Frustration swells in my chest and the once neat sugar packet between my fingers quickly gets torn into paper confetti.
“I’m so sorry,” Ana says.
She sits across from me with Meghan, each of us balanced in the uncomfortable, white plastic chairs that surround the few wooden tables near our favorite coffee cart. The sun bakes down from above and the pink umbrella stretching up from the table does absolutely nothing to provide cooling shade or protection. It might as well have been made of paper.
“My seats were destroyed, my laptop is gone, and my bag of spare clothes is gone!” I puff out a breath and remove my glasses as the warmth from my cheeks begins to fog the bottom of the frames. “They even took my air freshener.”
“Oh babe.” Meghan loops one arm around my shoulder and pulls me close for an awkward half-hug. The warmth of her arm is almost too much against my bare, sun-warmed shoulders, but the affection is appreciated.
When she releases me, her hand rises to my cheek, and she cups my face. Her thumb slides under my eye and she meets my questioning look with a smile.
“Your eyeliner is running.”
“It’s supposed to be waterproof!” I wail, slumping back in my seat once she’s tidied up my face. The remains of my coffee taunt me, fueling my craving to get up and have another, but so far the line is long enough to keep me seated.
“What are you going to do?” Ana asks sympathetically.
“What can she do?” Meghan snorts. “Hunt down the asshole herself?”
Ana flicks an empty sugar packet at Meghan. “I was talking about the missing stuff you ass, not the culprit.”
Meghan rolls her eyes while I force out a deep sigh to try and calm myself down.
“I have no idea. Luckily, I have a backup of everything important on my laptop, like my pictures and assignments and everything. But the cost of repairs alone is going to kill my bank account.”
“What about your insurance?” Meghan tucks some of her auburn hair behind her ear and adjusts her wireframes. “Surely that has you covered.”
“In an ideal world, sure,” I reply, running my fingers along the edge of my empty coffee cup. “But my insurance won’t lift a finger until the cops are done with the case and who knows how long that will last. I need my car fixed now. I did ask my father but…” Trailing off, our earlier conversation floods back to me.
He’d been irate at me even asking for that kind of help, but I had told my mom that without my car, I couldn’t make his birthday. With any luck, that will be enough to persuade him to help.
“But?” Ana prompts.
“Well,” I groan softly. “He blames me for leaving expensive things in my car, so he doesn’t think I deserve any kind of help for something that’s obviously my fault.”
“Bullshit,” Ana retorts. “You don’t blame the victim and even if you have something valuable in your car, that doesn’t give someone the right to take it.”
“I’ve heard of a few break-ins recently,” Meghan says, wiping a smudge of whipped cream from her upper lip after she drinks. “Maybe this is connected and the cops will solve things faster than you expect.”
“But you agree, right?” Ana fixes Meghan with a steady stare. “It’s not her fault, regardless.”
“Oh, of course! I just meant that maybe you could explain that to your father and he’ll be more understanding.” Meghan lifts her brow and the hope in her eyes is clear. She speaks from a place of security, knowing her own parents adore her and would do anything to help her.
My parents simply see all the things I do wrong, and having to tell them about the break-in after such a wonderful dinner was just the cherry on top of a truly terrible evening.
“Maybe.” I don’t want to burst her hopeful bubble, more inclined to make her feel like she is helping me than tell her the truth. “Either way, the cops have my car right now and won’t be releasing it for a few days. I can’t imagine there’s much in the way of evidence but who knows.”
“I can give you a lift to campus,” Meghan assures me, flashing me a brighter smile even as I shake my head.
“That’s so far out of your way though.” Meghan lives much closer to campus than I do and I don’t want to put her out, but she shakes her head quickly before I’ve even finished trying to turn her down.
“Nonsense. I like driving so a few extra miles won’t kill me. Ana can get you on days I’m off.”
“For sure,” Ana agrees.
“Thank you.” Just behind Meghan’s head, the line finally depletes enough that I can no longer deny my urge for more coffee. “Be right back.”
Standing, I toss my empty cup into the nearest trash can and hurry into line before the next swarm of students out of class can take over. With how little I slept last night, this coffee needs to be strong and sweet. Anything to keep my bubbling frustrations under control.
“Emma?”
Pulling my attention from the menu, I turn to Mike, who appears at my elbow like a ghost. His presence surprises me and a flush of goosebumps dart across my skin as we come face-to-face.
“Mike! Sorry, were you in line? I didn’t even see you.”
“No.” He shakes his head quickly. There’s something unsettling about how his hair doesn’t quite move. “Did I overhear correctly? Someone broke into your car?”
“Oh.” I bite back a groan, unwilling to hash out the details with yet another person. “Yeah, it’s a whole thing but the cops are dealing with it so.”
“I’m so sorry.” The concern in his voice is deep but something about it makes me uncomfortable. We don’t know each other that well, but as I consider turning away, I remember what Meghan said. “Have you been a victim?”
“Of a break-in?”
“Yeah. Meghan said there’s been a few around campus lately, so…”
“No. I don’t have anything worth stealing.” Mike snorts with laughter suddenly and his somewhat stoic face lights up with warmth. It pulls a smile from me, and I chuckle.
“I’m sure that’s not true. Everyone has something someone else wants, especially if it’s hidden in a car in the middle of the street.” Joking about it doesn’t ease my frustration, but maybe in a week or so, I’ll be able to look back at this and laugh.
“I’ve heard that’s an excellent way to get rid of things you might not want. People always want to take things that don’t belong to them,” Mike says. “But it’s nice to see you again.”
“Again?” My brow furrows while I move with the line.
“Yeah, after the club?”
“Oh! Sorry.” I shake my head and brush against his arm. “My head’s been all over the place with this shit I completely forgot. Yeah, the club was fun.” And awkward. Suddenly, the warmth on Mike’s face loses all of its appeal when I remember him trying to lean in and kiss me.
“That’s understandable. You’ve been through something awful. I can’t imagine how exposed and violated you must feel.”
My heart skips slightly. When he says that, the frustration in my chest suddenly untangles and becomes cold. Violated is a good word for it, knowing some stranger rifled through my life.
“Yeah well…it’s in the hands of the cops now.”
“How about I take you to dinner?” Mike steps around me, half-blocking my next step in the line. “A nice distraction and maybe I can even be a protecting presence.”
“That’s sweet but no thank you.” Politely, I side-step him as my desire to continue this conversation fades. I can already tell where this is going, and I try to shoot an emergency look toward Meghan and Ana. They don’t notice. They’re buried in their phones, showing each other something that makes them laugh loudly.
“Okay, if not dinner then what about drinks?” Mike continues to press.
I’m next in the line and I shoot the barista a smile as I answer Mike. “No, I’m good, thanks. Uh, same again, please but can I have extra caramel with the mocha? Thanks.”
The barista nods and sets to work. Mike leans on the cart next to me, his eyes never leaving me. “Emma, I’m trying to ask you out. So, what do you want to do?”
Something about the way he looks at me, and continues to press even after I’ve said no, just unlocks something in me. It’s like the final press of a button before an explosion. The gate opens and all the frustration and fear from the disaster with my car mingles with the irritation that I’ve had to reject Mike three times now.
“No!” I snap, raising my voice much louder than I usually would. Even the barista jumps slightly. “I don’t want to go out with you, Mike. I don’t know how many different ways I can say that since the word no apparently isn’t clear enough, but no, I don’t want to date you. You’re not my type and I’m not interested in you. Understand?”
An awkward hush falls over the remaining few students lingering around the car. My heart pounds in my chest, and as I stare into Mike’s eyes, guilt begins to swell.
I could have been kinder. That was definitely fueled by the pent-up frustration of everything that happened yesterday and Mike is a nice guy. He doesn’t deserve me exploding at him in public like this but I couldn’t help it. An apology rises in my throat as Mike straightens up from the cart and tugs at the bottom hem of his shirt.
“No need to be such a bitch about it. I pitied you Emma, but I won’t make that mistake again.”
My mouth drops open as Mike turns on his heel and strides away, crossing the street and melting into the crowd on the other side.
I’m the bitch? He pities me ?
I can’t even process that fact and I’m still in shock when the barista sets down the coffees and recites the total to me. I pay him with a handful of dollars, then stumble back to our table.
“What the hell was that all about?” Ana asks before my ass has even hit the chair.
“Mike asked me out again. I guess twice in quick succession.”
“So you yell at him in front of the crowd?” Meghan gives me a disapproving look as she takes her fresh coffee. “Girl, that’s cold.”
“I’ve said no like three times. He tried to kiss me at the club last Friday, and I told him no then, too.” I pass Ana her coffee. “I didn’t mean to yell at him.”
“I would have,” Ana says. “You only need to tell someone no, once. Also, it’s gross that he only went after me in the club because you rejected him. I’m not a fucking consolation prize.”
“I think he’s sweet,” Meghan replies. “He seems genuine.”
“You date him then,” I snap immediately, then I catch myself. “Sorry. I just mean, if you think he’s so genuine, then the next time he wants to take me on a pity date, I’ll direct him to you.”
“A pity date?” Ana bursts out laughing. “Oh honey, you have the worst luck.”
“Tell me about it.” As we sit and drink and the conversation moves onto classes and timetables, Mike returns to my thoughts. I could have been kinder to him, that’s true. It’s not his fault that my interests lie with real men who are much, much older than the average college student.
Older men who don’t notice me, either.
A vibration in my pocket pulls my attention from the conversation, and a new email flashes up while sharp, bitter coffee sweeps over my tongue. In all the pain of family dinner and my car, I’d completely forgotten that I’d booked in time at the local photo studio for the weekend.
Excellent. That’s the perfect way to take my mind off things.