The Red String | ONC 2024

2. Emma

The bell rang, signaling the end to not only Emma's grueling AP Calculus class, but to her entire exhausting day. Now, she was looking forward to nothing more than going home and maybe taking a short nap before she dug into her mountain of homework; today was one of the few days she didn't have any mandatory after-school activities, and she planned on taking full advantage of it. But first, she needed to stop by her locker and change out her books.

Emma's locker was on the other side of the gym from where she currently stood. Normally, that wouldn't have been a big deal – she passed by the gym every day before going home. She didn't even think twice about it. Why would she? But today, things were going to turn out a little different than she'd planned. And it would all start with that stupid gym. Really, with the way her day had been going so far, she should have known.

She was only a few feet away from the gym doors when she saw Logan Harris sauntering down the hall, coming right towards her and acting like he owned the place. Still, the hallway was crowded enough that he should have been easy to overlook. Of course, she'd never be that lucky. That just wasn't how things worked for her.

She'd had every intention of ignoring him and just sailing right on by. But there was something about him today, something that she'd never noticed before. She couldn't say what it was, but there was a strange, almost-pulling sensation that she felt when she looked at him. It wasn't enough to make her want to stay anywhere near him, but it was enough to get her to hesitate a fraction of a second. That was all the time he needed to lock onto her.

"Well, if it isn't good ol' Emma Malik." Logan said, grinning in that stupid way of his.

"Logan." Emma replied coolly.

Logan had been in her class since the sixth grade, and he'd only gotten more annoying with each passing year. She didn't really know him; she'd never been able to stand listening to him talk for more than about five minutes before wanting to pull her own hair out. At least, not since that time in eighth grade when he—

No. She shoved that thought out of her mind, refusing to even acknowledge it. Better to keep thoughts like that buried deep down inside. Besides, how well did she really have to know someone before she could confidently say that she hated them?

"Can I talk to you a second?" he asked, pulling her back to the present. He had a weird expression on his face that she couldn't quite read. Did he feel that weird pulling sensation too?

"...About what?" She narrowed her eyes just slightly. He'd never talked to her before, so why would he start now? Her suspicious mind was already running, trying to figure out what his angle could be.

"You're on the student council, right?"

"Yeah... so?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could talk to them. See about getting Homecoming pushed back like a week." He grinned widely, looking at her like it was already a done deal.

"What?" Emma blinked, the stupidity of the statement surprising her.

What was he talking about? He knew that the students didn't actually decide things like that, didn't he? Really, being student body vice president only meant that she had something impressive to put on her college application and a quiet little office she could hide in to study on her breaks.

"Well... I just thought it'd be better to have it the day after we played Westfield, instead of the week before, what with that being the big game of the season and all. Right?"

"You know the reservations were made weeks ago, don't you?"

All the catering, all the planning – what kind of an egomaniac was he? Asking to change the date of the biggest dance of the semester less than a month out? Did he really expect everyone to abandon all of their hard work on his personal whim?