Goodbye Yellow Brick Road ✔︎

11 | And The Point Goes to Emily

|photo by Sharon McCutcheon from Unsplash|

The refrigerator alarm goes off, reminding me to close the door, and No-No turns himself around in tail-chasing circles and barks. I consider changing his nickname to Dodo.

About the time I decide to pull out last night's take-out leftovers—which weren't very good the first time—Aunt Emily arrives with Chinese. "Be a darling and make me a vodka tonic?" she asks.

My parents drink but they don't keep alcohol in our house. They subscribe to the philosophy that it's best to keep temptation at a minimum when you're raising a teenager. Emily has an entire bar in her living room, fully stocked. On my first night here, she taught me how to make a vodka tonic and I've gotten pretty good at it—or so she says.

"I really don't like New York. Have I told you that?" she asks when I deliver her drink.

I just smile. She's told me this several times. I don't believe her.

"Don't wait on me," she says, waving a hand toward the bag of food as she takes an undignified gulp. "I had to eat with that dreadful Melanie Winslow."

How was your first day at school, Thea?

She leans back in her favorite chair, props her feet on the tufted ottoman and pats her lap to invite Antonio on board. He hops up, but then abandons her when he hears me prying the staples out of the take-out bag. "Did you meet our next door neighbor today?" she asks.

"He's in three of my classes."

"Oh, that's right. First day at Zachary. How was it?"

I line up four red and white boxes on the breakfast bar and get a fork out of the drawer. "I think the headmistress was disappointed that she didn't get to meet you."

Emily twists in her chair to look at me. "I sincerely doubt that," she says, smirking.

I want to ask her what strings she pulled to get me into Zachary but I decide to wait until she's in a better mood. "Have you ever met Ms. Ambroise?" I ask instead.

"No, and I don't intend to. Tell me what you think of Chase."

I am so not in the mood for this conversation. I take my time opening the boxes while I contemplate the most uncontroversial answer.

Fried rice. Sesame chicken. Beef with broccoli. Veggie stir-fry.

"He's nice," I say, stabbing a piece of the chicken and shoving it in my mouth.

Emily huffs out a sigh and stands. She scuffs into the kitchen, takes a plate out of the cabinet and sets it on the bar in front of me. "Nice is not a word I would use to describe young Chase. He's highly intelligent and extremely well-bred."

"Cool," I say. "Is he neutered?"

"His inheritance will be considerable," she adds, ignoring me. "And he's hot as Hades."

Cougar on, Aunt Emily.

"He was quite interested when I told him you were moving in."

Great. "Can I invite my boyfriend to come for a visit?" I ask.

She cocks an eyebrow. "If it's okay with your mother, it's okay with me."

And the point goes to Emily.

I slide my school handbook in front of her. "Would you sign this, please? I have to turn it in tomorrow."

She holds out her hand. I put a pen in it.

"The rules say my skirts are too short."

"And how many girls at Zachary follow that rule?" she asks. "Did you happen to notice?"