The Unsaveable Emmy Rollins

Chapter Seven: Emmy

"The point here is that you're too pretty," I said. And then froze. What did I say? How to make a fool of yourself 101! What the hell was wrong with me?

"Yeah, Chrissy! Emmy's right. You're way too pretty." cooed Hannah.

"But if I'm pretty doesn't that mean the cute seniors will want to date me?" said Christina.

"A lot of times, people don't make a move on the pretty ones because they're intimidated and afraid of rejection," I suddenly blurted. Oh. My. God. How many times did I have to make a fool of myself today? It's another human being. This shouldn't be all that hard.

"Woah... Emmy! With all the good points today!" giggled Lizzie.

"She's not wrong," agreed Craig.

"Who?" asked Hannah.

"Yes." he replied, earning a glare from Hannah. He then clarified. "They're both spot on. I mean, it took me months to even talk to you, Hannah."

"Really?" said Hannah.

"Yeah." Craig looked at her, and they had that lovesick look. Cue the shudder.

"So maybe he's just too intimidated is what you're saying?" asked Christina.

"Probably." I said, forking more food into my mouth.

"But-" started Christina, only to get cut off by Lizzie.

"No." she said curtly. "Chrissy, no speculations on yourself. You're gorgeous, and if he isn't just waiting for the right time to talk to you, then he's honestly missing out. I mean seriously, you're like my favorite person." said Lizzie. "No offense Hannah." she added. Hannah wasn't even paying us any attention anymore. It was as if she was in her own little world.

- - -

"If you love me let me gooooooo!" I sang, dancing through the kitchen towards the oven, where my freshly made chicken nuggets were sitting. I popped one into my mouth. Best way to spend my night. Chicken nuggets and Panic! At The Disco. Brendon Urie, if I didn't like girls, you would be my soulmate for sure.

"Oh would you shut up already!" exclaimed Luke, walking downstairs from his room.

"I really don't want to," I mused, picking up another nugget.

"But you sound terrible! My ears are going to fall off!"

"No need to be so rude." I muttered, stopping the music. Sorry Brendon, my straight love.

"So what's for dinner?" asked Luke, walking towards my chicken nuggets.

"I don't know. What did you make?" I said, smacking the food from his hands.

"What? You're not sharing?"

"Well, I might have if you hadn't just been so rude." I said pointedly.

"I'm sorry. Your singing is wonderful! The best! It could cure deafness!" he tried.

"Luke. It's too late. The words have been said. And I wasn't going to share anyways. There's salad and regular chicken leftover in the fridge."

"Ew."

"Then just eat the chicken, pipsqueak." I muttered, putting the nuggets in a bowl, grabbing the sweet and sour sauce, and heading to my room.

"Just because I'm thirteen does not mean you can call me pipsqueak!" exclaimed Luke.

"No, I call you that for your squeaky voice." I snorted.

"I'll tell mom you ate in your room!" his tried, voice cracking.

"I don't care. She knows I do it." I walked up the stairs, munching on a chicken nugget and wondering why our parents thought it was smart to leave us home by ourselves. Not that I was complaining.

- - -

As I was watching Pitch Perfect 3 and admiring the gorgeousness that was Brittany Snow I got a phone call. I picked it up.

"Hi, this is Emmy Rollins, what can I do for ya?" I said absentmindedly, pausing the movie.

"Nice greeting," laughed Christina.

"Oh. Hey, Christina. What's up?"

"Nothing much. I was just bored and no one else picked up."

"Oh, well I'm good for that. Picking up, I mean. Not not picking up. I mean-" I was cut off by her laugh. Her gorgeous, pretty laugh.

"I got it. What are you up to?" she asked. And I almost told her I was admiring Brittany Snow's gorgeousness. Almost.

"Watching a movie and eating chicken nuggets in my room because my brother drove me out of the kitchen." I said, and then smacked my forehead mentally. Of course I brought up Luke and the annoyingness that he embodies. Of course. "What about you?"

"Eating chicken nuggets in my room because my older sister is being bitchy..." I heard a crunch through the phone.

"We're like one in the same, huh?" I said, dipping a nugget in my sweet and sour sauce, contemplating why I was so stupid.

"I guess so," she laughed softly. "What movie?"

"Pitch Perfect 3."

"Oh I love that movie! Anna Kendrick is the best!"

"Personally I like Brittany Snow better..."

"If you're into sopranos," giggled Christina. I laughed along with her, picking up another nugget, when a sudden beeping noise started up.

"EMMY HELP!" shouted Luke from downstairs.

"Shit, my brother did something..." I said into the phone, moving my plate to the bed beside me and getting up.

"Oh, I can go if you want," Christina said, sounding a little disappointed.

"No! No, that's alright," I said, trying to not make a complete court jester of myself. I walked down the stairs, and saw the smoke. "You dipshit! Not you Christina, hold on." I pulled a chair to the wall, and pulled the smoke detector off and the batteries out. "What are you doing?"

"I was reheating the chicken!" exclaimed Luke.

"In the oven? We have a perfectly good microwave..." I walked over to the sliding glass door, grabbing a hand towel to funnel out the smoke. "I assume that you took the chicken out of the oven..." Luke just gave me a look. "What?"

"I'm scared to."

"Oh my god." I dropped the phone from it's place between my ear and shoulder, Christina's laughter fading. I strode over to the oven with the towel in hand, and opened the oven only to be met with a cloud of smoke. "I swear to god I'm never letting you cook with the oven..." 

"What?"

"Nothing. Look, I'll fix this and I'll text you when food's on, okay? Just bring me my chicken nuggets and then leave me be." I walked over to my fallen phone, picking it up.

"Okay." Luke headed towards the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"AND DON'T EAT MY CHICKEN NUGGETS I KNOW HOW MANY I HAVE LEFT! DON'T TRY ME!" I called behind him. "Sorry, this doesn't usually happen." I said to Christina.

"Hey, no worries." she said, and I could tell she was smiling. Oh, how I loved her smile. So pretty, and heartwarming, and- "Emmy?"

"Huh?" I said, snapped out of my daydream.

"I asked how you're gonna save the burnt chicken."

"Oh. Oh I haven't the slightest idea." I said, and we both started laughing.