Hold My Hand

Meeting Emma

(Cover art by : JessicaEmmaCliffe)

{Chapter 1}

Rupert~

My car idled in the driveway, I really didn't want to leave. Of course, if I didn't, I would undoubtedly end up sawing and hammering all day. UGH. I didn't really mind helping my dad, Derek, out with his work, but reeking of sawdust all day was not something I wanted to do. My only alternative? Get a summer job. Just so I wouldn't have to waste every day building gorgeous cabinets for other peoples houses. Rich people's houses. Annoying, snobby rich people and their giant annoying houses. And the only available job left in town , the only one I could take, was being a pool boy. So I would be cleaning the pool of some snobby rich person.

Was there really a point? Either way I'd be working for someone who made more in one day than I probably would in my whole life.

I stomped on the gas, revving the engine till it drowned out my scream. I knew I didn't hate rich people, just one rich person. And my mom really had it coming. She didn't like me leaving London and flying overseas to visit my dad, and her last straw was me packing up and coming here for the entire summer. Three whole months on the Oregon coast. I smiled. If I had told her about wanting to live here, she probably would have handcuffed me to a suitcase and had me dropped off at the nearest ivy league college. Was it too much to ask, really? I just wanted to decide what my future was on my own.

I knew exactly what she expected. She wanted me to get bored after a week, which had been my limit on how long she would let me spend time here with my dad. Fat chance. The last time I had flown in, I had made a lot of friends, most of them the kids of the other people my dad worked with. And my dad had been ecstatic. We spent the rest of the week having barbeques every night. The beach was our backyard and we played until sunset, and on a few occasions, until sunrise.

The tap on my car window made me jump. Eric stood with his face pressed against the window of my battered blue Honda. He blew his cheeks out and slobbered on the glass. I laughed. I rolled my window down and slapped at him. "You're gonna leave a mark you doof, knock it off." He rolled his eyes at me.

"Yeah man, cause your ride is like, so awesome anyway." He pounded the door with his fist. "You know, the insides are pretty okay dude, all you really need is a paint job," And he plucked off a dull, blue flake the size of a quarter. "Yeah, sure, I'll do that as soon as I win your lottery." I laughed.

"Not MY lottery, THE lottery, don't you guys have stuff like that in England, or the UK or KU or whatever you call it?" He smiled wide, and I knew he was screwing up on purpose. "Yeah, well, in the 'KU'," I laughed, "It's not the same. Besides, I didn't really have the chance to buy any tickets, my mom thought they were a waste of time." Ugh, again, I was thinking about her. I knew she meant well, but the least she could do is tolerate the fact that I actually liked my dad.

Eric interrupted my thoughts, "So where are you off to? You're not going to help us today?" I was seriously thinking about it. Sigh. "No, I'm gonna try working a job with a boss who cares if I screw things up."

"Man, that was like, one cabinet, did you honestly think he was going to bite your head off? Who cares if it was Maple instead of Poplar, woopty doo." He twisted his finger in the air. I cared, it could cost my dad a job, and even though he wouldn't admit it, he needed it.

One mistake, one complaint, and that would mean losing clients. My dad was the best woodworker in a three hundred mile radius, and a lot of people knew it. That was the only reason he could afford the beachfront house that we lived in. It had been a splurge five years ago, when I had turned fourteen. He was tired of having to cram me into his tiny loft above the café in town, and this house was just the right size for two guys, and the two car garage was easily turned into his workshop.