12. Emma
12
EMMA
“ E mma? Are you alright?”
Holding the door open, warmth from outside sweeps past my bare ankles and highlights in the back of my mind that my apartment is much cooler than the outside world. It suddenly becomes preferable as I try to catch up with what Finn is saying and why he’s even here.
“What?”
Finn’s brow dips and the deep concern brimming in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Emma,” he says slowly. “Are you alright?”
“Um…” I can’t find an answer, not fast enough to ease the worry that rolls off of Finn. “What are you doing here?” I repeat my question as, for some reason, my thumping mind can’t move past it.
Finn’s lips press together and he shifts his weight to his other leg. “When you didn’t turn up to class today, I was concerned that I had crossed a line with you. That I had…misread our signals and offended or hurt you in some way.” He pauses and a faint flush of color rises across his cheek. “Then I overheard your friend, Ana, on the phone quite distressed about not being able to get in contact with you, so I got your address from administration and came to see you.”
“Ana…” I breathe out, my thoughts turning back to my phone. “I should call her.” Turning, my grip slips from the door and I head back into my apartment. Behind me, floorboards creak and the door clicks closed. Before I can head for the bedroom, Finn’s hand is on my arm and he guides me toward the tattered couch in my living room. It takes no encouragement at all for me to sit, then Finn steps back far enough so the space is clear.
That bothers me suddenly. Why won’t he sit next to me?
“Emma, have you had anything to eat today?”
My stomach immediately aches at the thought of food, so I shake my head and clutch at the edges of my robe. “I’m definitely not hungry.”
“Water?”
I nod. Water sounds cool. Cool and clear and crisp. My mouth is suddenly as dry as the desert and my throat aches. Finn moves through the archway into the kitchen, and I focus on him as he hunts for glasses. It’s sweet that he’s here, I think. Although my mind runs like wandering through quicksand, it’s difficult to concentrate on so many things at once.
The kettle hums to life and cups clink together, then the tap rushes and in a blink, Finn is back in front of me with a glass of water. The glass fogs up except around his fingertips and when I take it, an odd chill shoots up my spine.
“I’ll make you some tea too,” Finn says. “Hot and sweet.”
“Like you,” I murmur weakly, then I drink. The first drop of water is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted and before I know it, I’m gulping hungrily like it’s the first time I’ve ever hydrated myself. When the glass is half empty, Finn’s fingertips land on the back of my hand and he coaxes the glass away from my lips.
“Slowly,” he says in a low voice. “You’re clearly dehydrated so drink slowly.”
My chest clenches and I want to ignore him. I want to drink the entire thing just to spite him but that feeling alarms me. He’s done nothing to me, so I’m not sure where the sudden hostility is coming from. Tiredness, perhaps?
“Emma…if this is about what we did yesterday?—”
“Oh God, no.” I shake my head, causing stragglers of my hair to brush quickly against my cheek. “Yesterday was amazing.” Another sip of water and the chill cuts through my mind fog. “I really enjoyed that, and I’m not mad about that at all, trust me.”
The relief is clear on Finn’s face and even his shoulders slump slightly while he watches me.
“So, what’s wrong? Just looking at you I can tell something isn’t right.”
The kettle behind him comes to a boil, but Finn doesn’t move.
“Honestly, I think I just had too much to drink last night. It was a good night and I—” I stop myself as the ache behind my temples flares when I try to remember.
“Just too much to drink?” Doubt lingers in Finn’s tone but the relief is clear, and I focus on that. Was he really so worried about what we did that he came to check on me, or was he concerned he was going to get caught?
I study him as he steps back into the kitchen and makes the tea. After a few minutes, his soft humming reaches my ears and warmth pulls at my heart. He was definitely worried about me, not himself. With each slow sip of water, I start to feel more like myself and by the time Finn is back with two mugs of steaming hot tea, my chest no longer feels stuffed with wool.
“I think it’s sweet that you’re here.” I smile at him, and the side of Finn’s mouth pulls sharply upward almost like he’s trying to contain his own smile but can’t.
“I was worried something had happened to you. Not just because of yesterday but when I was driving over here, I was trying to plan how I would break into your apartment if something was wrong.”
I scoff lightly. “You’d break in here just to check on me?”
Finn meets my gaze. “I was really concerned.”
“Aw.” Heat bubbles up my throat and prickles behind my eyes, trying to wave off his words. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone to care about me that much. “That’s so sweet.”
“What can I say, I’m a sweet guy.” He wraps his hands around his own mug and stares at me, his eyes darting all over my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am. I mean, I feel hungover to all hell but I’m fine. It’ll pass.” As his smile softens and he sets his cup down, Meghan’s comment yesterday about cheating pops into my mind like a dagger.
“Does this mean we’re an item now, since you fingered me on your desk?”
Finn almost chokes as he swallows, then he laughs. “Don’t get me wrong Emma, I am painfully interested in you. I can’t even begin to explain how hard it’s been not giving in to you all these months, but labels?” His warm, hazel eyes meet mine and they’re filled with such sparkle that I want to lean into him. “I’m too old for things like that. I like you. And you like me, right?”
I nod quickly. Oh boy, yes I do.
“Then we can have fun and no one needs to worry about rules or labels.” He pauses, angling his body toward me. “Unless you want to discuss something like that?”
“No,” I decide with a smile. “I like this approach.” Deep down, I knew he would understand.
Take that, Meghan.
With Finn this close, it’s difficult to resist the pull in my chest to be close to him, so I lean forward. His eyes immediately drop to my lips, and even in my hungover state, I’m very aware of what I must look like. He doesn’t pull away though, and our lips meet in a gentle, lingering kiss. Finn’s hand moves to my thigh, squeezing firmly and he starts to slide it further up my?—
Suddenly, it’s not Finn. I’m back in my bed trying to reach something with my hand but there’s another set of hands on my thigh, pulling my leggings down. It’s dark and I can’t tell who it is, but someone is definitely with me, undressing me.
“Emma?” Finn’s distant voice cuts through the flashback and I jerk back to reality. Every muscle aches as I sit completely rigid, and Finn is leaning away with his brow pulled together. “Emma, what’s wrong?”
“I just—” How do I even explain this? Am I confusing a dream and a reality? “I keep having these…jolts. Back to last night, flashes of things I can’t remember, and I think someone was here with me last night but I don’t…I don’t remember.” I shake my head and coldness trickles through my chest like I’ve just gulped the last of my water.
“Emma.” Finn’s voice is suddenly very serious, like when he’s in class and he’s trying to get everyone to understand just how important certain grades are. “What do you remember from last night?”
“I remember drinking here with Ana and Meghan, then we went to the club and it was, I dunno, it was a usual night out.” Anxiety fuzzes in my chest like static, and the room around me suddenly expands, making me feel very small. “And then I came home and fell asleep.”
“How did you get home?”
“What?” I fix him with a steady stare.
“Did you come home with Ana or Meghan?”
“No, I…” There’s nothing. Just a giant big gap in my memory. The last thing I remember clearly is Ana wanting us to do shots. “I can’t remember.”
“How do you feel?”
“I already told you?—”
“Physically, Emma.” Finn’s voice deepens to the point that it’s no longer as comforting as it was before. “How does your body feel? Are you hurting anywhere?”
“What? No, I feel fine,” I insist. “Finn, what are you going on about? You’re starting to freak me out.”
Finn stands, his lips pressed in a firm line. “Have you showered since you woke up?”
“No, Finn, what’s wrong?”
“Come on. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
I was drugged. The doctor’s words don’t seem to match the motion of her lips as she stands in front of me, explaining the lingering traces of sedatives in my bloodstream. There were, thankfully, no signs of sexual assault but I have to wait on the result of some blood tests just in case.
It’s not real. Her words don’t feel real, so I watch her in a daze as she presses a pamphlet about counseling into my hands and leaves the room. Finn takes the space she left, a frown gracing his face.
“Emma?”
“I don’t understand,” I murmur. “We’re always careful. We cover our drinks, and someone always watches it when the other has to leave. And we only accept drinks from other people if we get to watch the bartender make it. I don’t understand.”
Finn’s hand lands cautiously on my shoulder. He’s wary of touching me, I can tell, but his comfort is something I ache for so I immediately clutch at his wrist. It’s the permission he’s been waiting for. He sits beside me on the bed and pulls me into a tight, crushing hug. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, drowning in the comforting scent of his warm bookish smell.
“However it happened, and whatever it was, it was not your fault. Do you understand?”
I nod against his chest, my cheek sliding against the soft cotton of his shirt. “Maybe I was drugged at the club and one of my friends helped me home. That’s…that’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“It’s possible,” Finn replies, his chin resting atop my head. “I won’t tell you how to feel, or what your truth is but the doctor may have been right. This shadow in your memory could just be a lingering dream and you undressed yourself.”
“Makes sense,” I murmur, nuzzling into his chest. “It’s the only thing that really makes sense because my door was locked so…”
“Although, I do agree with her that you should report this to the police.”
I lift my head and pull back from him. “Report what? That I got drunk but somehow made it back home safe and sound and woke up tucked in my bed?”
Finn’s eyes narrow slightly. “Hey. At the very least, someone slipped you something at the club. At worst, someone took you home and was inside your apartment. Whatever the truth is of what happened last night, calling the police and alerting them might help.”
“Because they were so helpful when my car was fucked up,” I snap at him, then catch myself. The anxious bubble in my chest is building, along with a sense of stupidity no matter how often I’ve been told that it wasn’t my fault.
“Sorry. I’m just a little freaked out.”
“Hush,” Finn says softly, lifting one hand to cup the back of my head. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not easy news to learn you’ve been drugged. I do think you should go to the police but it’s your choice, and I’m here to support you.” Finn leans up and presses a light kiss to my temple.
“Really? You’re not going to march me down there and make me file a report?”
“What?” Finn’s brow lifts sharply. “Of course not. Emma…whatever happened, the next steps are yours. Yes, I would like you to report it, but it’s your choice, and I’m here for you. I don’t like it, but it’s your choice.”
“But you do like me,” I point out with a small smile, seeking any kind of distraction.
Finn rolls his eyes and laughs dryly. “Yes, I do.”
When we get back to my apartment, Finn offers to stay with me, but I send him away, insisting that he’s already done more than enough to help me. Finn makes me promise to text him the moment I wake up so he knows I’m okay, and with a deep, lingering kiss, he leaves.
My apartment is suddenly cold without him. Guilt swirls in my chest, and the sensation of idiocy doesn’t leave me, not even after a long shower hot enough to strip off several layers of skin. I’ve been on such a high from the attention of all those gorgeous men, and having a good time with my friends that I hadn’t been focused on staying safe.
As I tidy up the tea and the water and head for bed, my mind runs between excuses and fear. Maybe it was just a chance encounter, and I made it home myself. Maybe the strange feeling of someone in my room was just my own fantasies mingling with my drunken mind.
Or maybe it’s nothing at all, and I just worried Finn for no reason. Maybe I just took some pills without remembering to help me sleep.
I text the group chat and apologize, telling Ana and Meghan that I’m okay and will explain everything in person. Then I roll over and hug my pillow to my chest.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. My mind races, trying to fill in the gaps in my memory. The sky turns a soft pink by the time my eyelids grow heavy and sleep finally pulls me under.
I’m woken abruptly the next morning by a text from my mother reminding me sharply that next Friday is my father’s birthday.
That arrived far too fast.