Chapter 3
Sam grabbed my hand and whipped around. "Let's get out of here," he grumbled, pulling me through the front hall towards the door.
I didn't want to give up this fast though. I knew that Emma came here with Nick to make me even more angry than I am, and so I wasn't going to give her what she wanted. "No, Sam. I'ts not like they're going to hurt us. If anything, we can just irritate them. We can still have fun even if we ignore them."
He threw my arm back at my side and raised his eyebrows, slowly turning around. "Seriously? You want to aggravate your ex and his fiancée? Something tells me that that's not such a great idea." He folded his arms and looked at Emma, who was doing her best to keep that Barbie smile plastered on her face. "But whatever, if that's what you want to do, then I'll stay."
I beamed at him, knowing that this could be good. I turned towards Nick and Emma, their hands still holding their towels up. I didn't even want to think about what was going on before we walked in. It's just a set up, I thought to myself. They're just trying to piss us off. Well, it's not going to work!
"I think Sam and I will just hang out here this weekend if that's alright. It was our plan anyways and its too late to drive all the way back home," I explained to Emma and Nick. It didn't shock me that they didn't seem the least bit surprised.
"Sounds good!" Nick replied. "Make yourselves at home. Would you like something warm to drink? It's chilly outside." I cringed at his sweetness, not planning on sugarcoating any of my responses. I felt that Sam was thinking the same thing.
"Why not?" I laughed. "Sam, how about you go on in and help Nick make us some apple cider. I'll bring our bags up to the bedroom." I needed Sam and Nick to get off on a good foot before I start to bitch about everything. I was content that this weekend was going to be similar to, oh, I don't know, the Hunger Games?
Sam eyed me warily while he gingerly handed me the straps to his bag, and followed Nick into the kitchen. Emma and I were all alone now. I stepped closer to her and plopped the bags down on the finely polished hardwood floor. I was actually surprised that Emma had managed to keep her filthy smirk in tact.
"You're such a hipster," Emma teased. "You think you can win over everyone with a flash of your extremely white teeth and leather combat boots."
"Well your golden hair isn't at all a charm, either," I scoffed.
Emma shrugged, not letting my comment affect her. "If you're actually planning on staying then go put your bags away. Nick and I have the first bedroom on the left but you and Sam can share the one across the hall."
I wasn't sure what to think of this. Was Emma actually being nice, or did she just want to get this over with? "Thanks," I mumbled, concluding that she wasn't being nice at all. As I climbed up the steep steps, Emma stopped me.
"Shaye," she called, "brace yourself. This is going to be one hell of a weekend." Emma then proceeded to strut into the kitchen where the apple and cinnamon scent wafting through the house was being produced. That's right, I thought, you might just regret it.
When I reached the top of the spiral staircase, I took a look around me. It was very, well, cabin-y. There were a pair of antlers at the end of a wide hallway, right above a glass bowl of pine cones. Candles lining the walls created a dim glow and the whole place smelled like christmas trees. I saw Emma and Nick's bedroom; the first bedroom on the left. Me and Sam's room was right across from it. A heavy wooden door with a brass knocker was the only barrier between the bedroom and the hallway, and when I pushed open the door, my jaw dropped in awe.
