- Clay -
We ended up at the Chinese restaurant down the street. I looked over the menu, even though I always ate one of three things when I got Chinese food. "Do you ever want to try something new, but you're not sure where to start?"
I was taken aback by how relevant my statement was to my life recently. There was a huge new thing I wanted to try, but I did not know how to go about initiating it. Not that I even could, since it heavily involved Emmett, who had made it abundantly clear that he had no interest in going down that road with me.
"How about you get your favorites, and I'll get mine, then we can share?" Emmett offered.
I smiled at him. "Sounds perfect."
We each picked out three dishes we loved, along with a few items we both enjoyed, for a smorgasbord that left us both stuffed and slightly nauseous.
In the car I stretched out my belly, which was already swollen from eating so much. I laid my hands on it and looked over at Emmett, who had closed his eyes. "Emmett."
Emmett rolled his head across the headrest to face me, opening his eyes. He laughed. "Have you got something to tell me, Clay?"
"Yes. I do." I feigned a sniffle and wiped away an imaginary tear from beneath my eye. "My child needs a father, Emmett. I can't be a single parent."
Emmett reached over to rub my stomach. "We'll get through this together." He stared into my eyes, trying for a serious expression, but his lips kept quivering, like he wanted to smile.
My smile fell away as I wondered what Emmett would do if I just leaned forward and kissed him right now.
I shook off that thought and faced forward, shifting in my seat uncomfortably. "Um, so what do you want to do now?"
Emmett settled back into his seat. "Have my stomach pumped, for starters. I ate way too many potstickers."
"Dude, I had like seven. And three egg rolls."
"I ate almost all the sesame chicken by myself."
"Well, I ate most of the pepper steak."
"You want to just go home and crash?" Emmett asked.
I was deeply disappointed, assuming he meant we should go to our own homes separately.
Then he said, "We could watch TV or a movie."
I forced my body to stay still, withholding my excitement. "Sounds perfect."
As I drove back to our neighborhood, I asked, "Can we go to your house? My parents are home, and they're so weird."
"Your parents are awesome."
"That's because you're not their son. They'd be all nosy. And my mom will come in every ten minutes to make sure we don't want snacks or drinks."
"That sounds amazing."
"It's annoying as hell."
"Fine." Emmett placed a hand on my forearm, giving me a thrill. I swear the hairs on my arm stood on end at his touch. "For the sake of your sanity and our unborn child, we can go to my house. My mom will be so stoked to hear the news."
I laughed. "Okay. We're done with that joke now."
"And I was so looking forward to being a teen dad."
I rolled my eyes. I picked up my phone and removed the aux cable, handing it over to Emmett. "Here. Play me some of your music."
I was not at all surprised when "Cruel Summer" by Taylor Swift started playing. But I loved that song, so I turned it up, feeling the rattle of the bass in my bones. I rolled down the windows, cranking the volume. The wind whipped through our hair as we both belted out the lyrics at the top of our lungs.
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Back at Emmett's house, we laid in his bed, side-by-side (with two inches of empty space separating us), and watched through a couple movies. First up was Kiki's Delivery Service, which Emmett remembered me mentioning that first day I came over. Watching it now, I understood why I loved it so much as a kid. Rachel and I used to wrap dark colored sheets around ourselves and tie red ribbons in our hair to run around the house with a broom between our legs, "delivering" random objects to our parents.
Although, I also remembered why I stopped watching it. I tried to get Jackson to watch it, but he said it was boring and needed more action. I felt embarrassed for having ever liked it in the first place. I guess that tainted my memory of the film. The next time Rachel wanted to play delivery service, I said it was a dumb game for babies. That I never wanted to play it again.
Next, Emmett insisted we had to watch Clueless, after he scrolled past it and I mentioned I'd never seen it. For a 90s movie about rich, vapid teenagers, it turned out much better than I anticipated. I even kind of felt a little spark for Paul Rudd with his scruffy, grunge look. That was an exciting development.
As the end credits started, Emmett shook his head. "It's such a brilliant adaptation."
"Of what?"
"Emma. By Jane Austen."
"Oh. I've never read it. It was a movie, too, right?"
"Um, yes." Emmett almost sounded offended by the question. "There are two movies, actually, and a miniseries. I've seen them all. Multiple times."
"Is it that good?"
"I love Jane Austen. And I'd probably get punched in the face by any other Austen fan for saying this, but I totally think Emma is better than Pride & Prejudice." Emmett's eyes widened as he sat up and grabbed my arm, looking slightly nervous. "Don't get me wrong! I still totally love Pride & Prejudice. There's just something so charming about Emma."
I wondered if Emmett actually thought I would care that much if he preferred one of those over the other. It wasn't that I didn't care about his opinion, I just had no idea why that opinion might be questionable.
Still, I loved watching him nerd out over these classic novels I'd only heard mentioned at school. He really loved this stuff, and his passion for it was very attractive.
When Emmett laid back down to scroll through the selection (an inch closer than before, I might add), I stretched my leg out over his. "Is this... Is this okay? I kinda have a cramp in my thigh." I rubbed my leg, which felt perfectly fine, as part of my act. "I need to get into a different position."
Emmett shook his head. "No. It's fine. I don't mind."
I pointed at the TV as Bridesmaids came up. "I love that movie."
"It is kind of on brand for our evening of strong female characters so far."
"Okay," I said.
I didn't really understand what Emmett meant by that. I didn't get how Cher or the ladies of Bridesmaids were strong. They weren't badass action heroes or anything. Certainly no Wonder Woman or Sarah Connor. I got how Emmett could say that about Kiki. She was a witch. The others were just normal women.
When I said this to Emmett, he got really animated. His brain seemed to work faster than his mouth, so he stumbled over his words a few times. "No. They're not strong, like as in having powers or even physically. They're strong because they're well-rounded, well-developed characters who are more than just a one-dimensional set piece, just there to be pretty or to serve the male characters' development."
"I guess I never thought of it like that," I said.
"Well, I'm happy to enlighten you."
Emmett turned on the movie and laid the remote down. After about ten minutes, Emmett laid his hand on my leg. He was still staring at the movie, so I assumed he'd done it without thinking. Just that simple move caused way too much pleasure, getting me halfway hard in seconds. I didn't even know it could happen that quickly for me. Any time Summer initiated sex, it took several minutes and much cajoling to get me this far. Emmett did it in two seconds flat by touching my fucking thigh.
I grabbed a throw pillow to cover my lap, propping my arms on top of it to make it seem as though I was just trying to get comfortable.
Emmett glanced over for a moment and smiled before turning his attention back to the movie, laughing at the scene.
I kept thinking about trying something. Something simple and noncommittal, maybe taking Emmett's hand. My heart pounded, imagining lacing my fingers with his. But I couldn't do something that bold. Instead, I started slowly leaning towards him. Every couple of minutes, I got just a little closer, closing the gap until I finally rested my head on his shoulder. My whole body was on high alert, buzzing with a mix of terror and exhilaration. I expected Emmett might say something or buck me off, because any of my other friends definitely would have if I tried this with them, but not Emmett. Emmett just laid his cheek against the top of my head, continuing to watch the movie as if this were the most natural thing in the world. And it truly felt like it was.