Her hair was predictably perfectly coiffed, her raven locks curled and falling on her shoulders. Her feet were crammed into dainty high heels, and her body was zipped tightly into a dress that was already laid out on her bed when she arrived in the UK.
Emily looked good. Polished. Like she belonged.
But Emily wanted to be anywhere but here. London was suffocating her, and she longed for the warm embrace of campus. The only place that ever felt like home was unfortunately over three thousand miles away.
JJ was even farther.
Emily didn't mind flights. She was a trooper, used to the bustle of airports and the uncomfortable seats (even first class made Emily's back hurt sometimes) but there was something so uniquely depressing about dreading the Christmas holiday, when it was supposed to be the most magical time of year. Well, it was magical back in the US, where the snow fell down in pretty snowflakes instead of the sleet that covered London. It was magical when she had her first date with JJ in the holiday market, skating under the glowing lights. It was magical when she and JJ shared a chaste kiss as Emily left in her taxi on the way to the airport. Now, it felt like the last few weeks had been a fever dream as she was once again trapped in her old life.
She sipped her wine and tried to remain invisible. She wasn't good at it. She always felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb, the one interloper in the world of politics and high society. As a high schooler, she leaned into it. Rebelled. Eyeliner. Black clothing. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. The usual stuff. She was good at making a scene and liked the attention, especially at her mother's expense. But Elizabeth Prentiss was good at wearing a person down.
Tonight, Emily would behave. At least, Emily vowed to try.
Emily flagged a server down to get her fingers on the hors d'oeuvres. She had no idea what they were, but they were delicious. She grabbed five.
"Emily," a stern voice came from behind her as soon as she placed the morsel in her mouth, "enough of that, you must watch your figure."
"Whatever mom," Emily replied flippantly, despite her mother's words making her wince internally.
"Come with me," her mother instructed before turning on her heel, leaving little room for debate.
She followed her mother into the other room of the extravagant apartment, stuffing the finger food into her mouth quickly before she had to make nice to whichever diplomat her mother wanted her to kiss up to.
This area had a pianist playing something by Vivaldi and the open bar, which probably had the most people milling about. Elizabeth walked up to two men, then looked back to ensure that her daughter had kept up. She gave Emily a look that said "behave or else" before smiling at the pair.
Some part of Emily hesitated, wondered if playing along, if behaving , was really what she was going to do. She compromised by rolling her eyes behind their backs.
"Mr. Easter," Ambassador Prentiss greeted the older man, "this is my daughter Emily. Emily, this is Mr. Easter and his son, Clyde. He's attending Cambridge but is currently on exchange at your little school this year."
Emily didn't react to the slight dig her mother put in at her school, knowing the Ambassador was just bitter that she didn't choose her own alma mater like she always intended.
"Pleasure," Emily said politely, shaking his hand and noting his strong grip and pale grey eyes.
"Happy to make your acquaintance, Emily," he replied. He had an intense stare and a ruthless aura about him.
Emily shook his father's hand next, smiling tersely. She wanted to escape whatever this was—a playdate, a set up, or simply something to further her mother's career—and go back to guzzling champagne and leaving around midnight, but it didn't seem like she was getting out of this any time soon.
"You'll be seeing a lot of each other this year," Mr. Easter said. "I was so thrilled to find out that my son would be working with the daughter of Ambassador Prentiss."
"Working... with?" Emily stuttered. She froze. She knew it, her mother had some scheme, and Emily had just walked right into it.
"Yes, it is such a treat," Elizabeth said with a grin. "Emily is so talented and she's so excited to be working on the campaign with Clyde. Aren't you dear?"
Emily furrowed her brow. Campaign? What campaign? Was she running for President now?
Clyde was wearing a navy suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. He held his own glass of champagne loosely in his hand and took in Emily with squinted eyes.
"Student elections are simply a microcosm of a real political campaign," Clyde commented amiably. "The same rigour and complexities apply. I'm sure you're up to the challenge with all of your experience growing up in politics."
Emily made a noncommittal noise. She was still trying to figure out what was going on.
"With you on the campaign team, we're sure to make a splash on campus," he continued. Campaign team? For what?
"Emily was so enthused when she heard about this opportunity," Elizabeth answered for her.
Emily was definitely not enthused. She was piecing it together, though. That corrupt student government role? Clyde and Emily were to manage the upcoming election. Who was running? Unclear.
"But she turned down that role at the governor's office, why?" Mr Easter inquired.
I didn't want to, Emily answered internally.
"Emily is so studious ," Elizabeth explained, "I could barely pry her out of the library. But extra curricular engagements are vital to any college experience."
Emily nodded, tempted to explain exactly how she had spent her last semester, but holding her tongue.
"And your candidate is impressive indeed. Emily couldn't resist joining such a team," Elizabeth replied, nudging Emily to participate in the conversation.
"Of course," the elder Easter said, "my boy wouldn't put his name on any loser."
"This is the kind of experience that you couldn't even pay for. It will kickstart both of your political careers," Elizabeth assured her. Emily nodded, still dazed.
My political career? Emily gulped down a sip of her champagne to stifle a litany of choice words a younger version of herself would have unleashed on her mother.
They continued to discuss the first steps of the campaign, the candidate, strategy, the platform, but all Emily could hear was a roar in her ears.
It was too late. Her semester had been decided. She moved thousands of miles away from her mother, got into a prestigious university, built a life for herself on campus, and her mother still pulled the strings.
"Clyde, Mr. Easter, mother , please excuse me for a moment," Emily blurted, before turning on her heel and making her way to the door.
The music was reduced to a dull noise as Emily shut the door behind her and emerged onto the balcony. She looked out into the city and sighed. The party was suffocating.
She wrapped her cape around her for warmth. Hand it to Elizabeth Prentiss to make Emily wear some obnoxious fur-lined get up in sub-freezing weather over her cocktail dress.
It was exhausting being back in her mother's world, and in that moment, Emily vowed that this was the end. She leaned on the balcony and sighed. Her face hurt from keeping a pleasant smile on her face, the fight of teenage Emily had long since left her, and the young woman had resigned herself to keeping the peace at these events.
Her chest still was tight with anger at her mother's meddling. Clyde seemed nice enough, and she was sure whatever candidate she was expected to help was a nice enough girl but her head was spinning from the ambush. She hadn't even been warned. Probably because her mother knew she would say no if asked. Better spring it on her so she couldn't say no.
At least the view was nice, Emily thought, as the River Thames stretched out to her right, reflecting the light from the old London buildings. While snow fell from the sky in tiny snowflakes, it seemed to be melting when it hit the ground, as the city beneath her looked damp rather than snowy.
Just as she braced herself to go back in for the countdown to midnight, Emily's phone buzzed in her pocket. She retrieved her phone and the screen filled with JJ's silly contact image, a photo of the blonde holding up the stuffed bear at the fall fair with a goofy grin on her face. Emily accepted the call.
"Happy New Year!" JJ's voice came through the line, sounding very far away and tinny.
"JJ!" Emily replied, her voice sounding a touch drunker than she had expected it to. Champagne had that effect on her. A smile crept on her face, the first real one all evening.
"Having fun?" JJ teased with a soft laugh. They had texted regularly over break, but their phone calls were few and far between, with both girls busy with the holidays. The time zones also got in the way, as JJ had attempted to call Emily in the middle of the night, London time.
The couple's Christmas celebration had actually taken place on Boxing Day, when JJ (who was at her father's new apartment) and Emily (who was holed up in the spare room at her mother's London flat) finally unwrapped their Christmas gifts over FaceTime.
"Not at all," Emily said, "I've escaped to some balcony so no one tries to get handsy at midnight. It's only seven there, right?"
"Yup," JJ said, "I'm getting ready for a party with my old teammates. Time zones are weird."
Emily took a sip of her champagne and sighed. Her free hand gripped onto the necklace around her neck, the one that matched JJ's. She imagined JJ holding onto her own, their actions mirroring each other from across the globe.
"I miss you JJ."
"I miss you, Emily."
"Eight more days," Emily said wistfully, "until I get back to you."
"You can make it," JJ said, "I believe in you."
Emily laughed, JJ's sense of humour kept her going despite the distance.
"So..." JJ drew out the word in a flirty tone, "kissing anyone at midnight?"
"As if! I have no desire to play grab-ass with any of these gross private school dropouts."
"Good! Save all the kisses for me when we get back," JJ said. "We'll have our own new year party or something."
"It's a plan."
She sighed. The very sound of JJ's voice calmed her down.
"Have any New Year's resolutions?" Emily asked.
"Ugh," JJ's eye roll was clear over the phone, and Emily laughed. "I resolve to spend more time with my pretty girlfriend and eat more cheetos."
"I like that," Emily said with a smile. "Practical."
"I'm nothing if not... practical," JJ giggled. "What about you?"
Maybe not letting my goddamned mother control my life anymore? Maybe growing a backbone? Emily said to herself.
"What's wrong?" JJ asked, as if she could read Emily's mind.
"Nothing, it's just my mom," Emily huffed.
"The Ambassador is up to her old tricks?" JJ asked, a knowing tone in her voice.
"Always," Emily said, finishing up her champagne in a very unladylike swig. "Nothing I can't handle, though."
"You can take her," JJ said, "just give her the ol' one-two."
Emily could almost see JJ acting this hypothetical boxing match out, punching as she said "one-two." She giggled at the mental image.
"I think I love you," Emily blurted.
There was a long pause on the phone. Emily's heart beat loudly in her ears, the silence of the night was deafening. A moment passed, then the clock must have struck midnight, because the world around her exploded with noise. Fireworks went off over the river.
The sound of her own heart rivalled the explosions.
Then JJ's voice came through the phone, barely making a sound over the cacophony: "I think I love you too."