emery
"Who the hell . . ." I mutter as I heave myself off the floor.
Lenora just stares at the door, fists clenched, like she's ready to box whoever is on the other side. She can't possibly know who is knocking though. Can she? Is that why she pulled away?
Adjusting my shorts, I stomp over to the door and lean way up onto my tiptoes to see through the peephole. My stomach drops. Calla stands on the other side with crossed arms.
"Em, it's me!" she says. "We need to talk."
I rub my temples and glance back at Lenora. "You should probably go sit in the bedroom."
Her eyes widen. "And why should I do that?" she snips, clearly pissed.
"Because she's going to flip if you're here."
"And I should care because . . . ?"
She's too stubborn for either of our goods. I open the door and prop it open with my elbow. Calla's face changes to surprise. Then back to angry.
"What's up?" I lamely ask.
"What's going on?" she demands. "Why are you ignoring me?"
I slowly shake my head. "It's not a good time."
"Apparently, it's never a good fucking time for you. I'm not going to text or call again. We'll never hang out. Unless you tell me what's going on."
Honestly, I can't see how it's any of her business. I want to tell her about Lenora—I don't want to lie to her—but I also don't know why she thinks she can be so demanding. We're hardly even friends. Even so, I know how hard it'll be to make new ones if Calla and her whole crew exile me. This town isn't that big.
"It's complicated," I tell her.
Her lips part but before she speaks, her gaze flicks over my shoulder. I sigh. Dammit.
"What the hell is that bitch doing here!" Calla yells.
Lenora comes forward until I feel her against my back. Her body is vibrating with a barely-contained growl.
"She's not a bitch," I say automatically.
Calla scoffs. "Are you kidding? Are you fucking kidding? You know her! She choked Deja! She could have fucking killed her!"
My jaw feels wired shut. I don't know what to say, but I know anything I do will come out wrong.
"She was in my way," Lenora says. "I hope she learned her lesson."
Well shit—
"Learned her lesson?" Calla laughs harshly. "You're a literal psycho. And you," she says with a venomous glare directed towards me. "You're pathetic."
Her words slice at me, cutting open a nice big hole in my mood and confidence. As Calla turns and stomps off down the hall.
An arm snakes around me, tugging me into the room. She shuts the door and turns me around to see my face. The agitation has softened into concern. It's so hard to be mad at her. Especially when she looks so damn hot. I breathe forcefully out of my nose and turn away.
"Emery, talk to me," she says.
"I think we've done enough talking." I dig my fingernails into my palms. "Did you have to say that about Deja?"
My face feels hot and flushed. I want to be alone.
"It was the truth." Lenora's fingers brush my elbow, but I put away from the static rush of her touch. "That rogue was a threat. Not only to this community but to you."
"That rogue? You mean Brian?" I angrily face her again. "Brian didn't do anything wrong! He was friends with everyone! What could he have possibly done to make you treat him like that? Or Deja?"
She glares with those impenetrable eyes.
I wait for her to say something. To defend what she's done—for any of it. But she says nothing.
"Just . . ." I turn away from her, pressing a hand to my temple. "Just leave. Please."
There's still silence. Her warmth materializes behind me, infiltrating my pores, but I pull away. She can't seduce me out of this. I have enough troubles of my own; her mysteriousness is clearly more problematic than sexy.
"No," I grit out. "If you can't tell me what he did or see why choking Deja was such a bad thing, then I don't want to see you. Please, just go."
Her frustration feels like wool over my skin. I force my breathing steady to keep a sob from escaping. Finally, after eons of our stalemate, the door closes with a soft bang. I look back to be sure she's gone before crumpling to the floor.
I wish Calla hadn't come today. I wish we'd never moved beyond indifferent coworkers. I wish Lenora hadn't choked Deja or been so unrepentant about it. Most severely, most regrettably, I wish I never moved to this goddamned town.
—(—)—
The house smells just like a remember it: cinnamon roll candles and lavender potpourri. I set my weekend bag at the foot of the steps and close the door. Momma is probably napping, so I head to the kitchen to brew fresh coffee. The drive was long and I'm tired, but not enough to sleep.
As the coffee machine grinds the beans and does its work, my phone buzzes. I've been avoiding it for the better part of two days. The night Calla visited and Lenora left, I stopped reading texts. I swallow and pull the device out of my sweatpants.
2 text messages - Lenora
My teeth nibble at my lip. I'm three hours away now. It isn't like she can seduce me from here. Besides, she might want to talk now. As much as I can't be near her, I haven't given her up since then. Her face is a permanent portrait living in my eyelids.
I unlock my phone and open her texts.
Lenora: please call
Lenora: we need to talk
Sighing, I dial her number and listen to it ring.
"Emery," she answers immediately, intense as always.
"Hi," I reply. "What do you wanna talk about?"
She's quiet for a moment and I immediately fear this is melting into our last conversation.
"I wanted to check on you."
I bite my tongue and take a long breath. "Have you thought about our last conversation?"
"Of course. I haven't thought of anything else for two days."
"Why didn't you talk to me that night?"
"Because there are some things I just can't tell you, Emery. That's just how it has to be for now."
My body viscerally reacts even before my tongue, shaking my head. "I'm not doing this. I'm not doing secrets." I lower my voice. "My life is messed up enough and unmanageable as is."
"It won't be like this forever, baby girl. I need you to understand—"
"Call me when you're ready to apologize or explain. Until then, I don't want to hear it."
"Emery!"
"Those are my terms."
She sighs. "I'll come over now. It has to be in person. Those are my terms."
"I'm not at the apartment now."
"Well, where are you? I'll meet you."
"I'm at my parents'."
Her sharpened breath cuts through the line.
"Honey?" momma calls from upstairs. "Is that your car I see?"
"Shit. I have to go, okay?" I say.
"Why didn't you tell me—"
Momma appears in the kitchen doorway.
"Later!" I whisper and hang up. Just as she sees me, I stuff my phone in my back pocket. "Momma, hi."
"Honey!" She runs up to embrace me. "This is such a surprise! Not that I mind, but you could've called, you know."
Squeezing her back, sinking into her squishy motherly love, I sigh, "I know. I know. I just . . . it was a spontaneous decision. I figured I was due a visit."
She holds me out at arm's length. "Is something wrong?"
"No." I bite my cheek and avoid her eyes.
"Emery Leigh."
Drawing in a deep breath, I rub my eyelids with the butts of my palms. "Nothing is wrong. I've just been disagreeing with my new friends."
"Oh. I'm sorry, honey. Anything I can help with?"
"I don't think so, momma."
"Well, I have just the thing to cheer you up at least."
"Hmm?"
"There's some leftover chocolate ganache cake from Aunt Sara's birthday."
My stomach growls. It's not like I came home to lose weight.
I shrug. "I think that sounds like a great idea."