❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
chapter eighteen: bless you, calvin klein
tw(s): post-breakup emotional mess, but it's short-lived.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
A TAP, TAP, tapping distracts Emma from her gourmet Froot Loops dinner and Melrose Place reruns. She's sulking, kind of. By now, it's been a little over a week since she and Charlie split. Connie and Julie sit uncomfortably on the edge of her window on the porch overhang, wearing fancy attire.
"Okay, you guys are going insane. Why are you on my roof, and why are you all dressed up?" Emma asks, her hand above her, holding the window open.
Julie is wearing her hair clipped back, with a violet velvet dress and silver heels. Connie has her hair in a messy braid, with a sage green chiffon dress and white clogs.
"We're going to a party. And you are, too," Julie says, hopping through the window.
"Wait, okay, I didn't necessarily let you in. I could call the cops for trespassing," Emma says, stepping aside as Connie follows Julie through the tight opening.
"Aw, but you wouldn't. You love us, and this party'll do you good," Connie says, patting her cheek.
Julie is sifting through Emma's closet, tossing options out onto the bedspread. Connie sits Emma down at her vanity, looking through her products and setting to work.
"I don't know, I'm kind of tired. I wanted to watch Melrose."
"Shut up, I need to do your lip gloss," Connie says, pulling a white applicator out of a clear tube of pink gel.
"Calvin Klein navy blue dress, black Mary Janes!" Julie says with glee, swinging the hanger over the front of Emma's body to test out the colors.
"Yeah, but I still haven't agreed to this party," Emma whines.
"Well, we didn't ask, did we?" Connie says, already out the door. "Change, and we'll meet you downstairs. Your mom isn't awake, is she?"
Emma sighs. "No. I'll be out in a minute."
"This is my revenge dress. Bless you, Calvin Klein," Emma says to herself once she's changed, twirling in her outfit.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
"Rick Riley's house party? Really?" Emma asks in disbelief, gesturing to the sprawling hillside mansion in front of her.
"Yeah," Connie confirms. "We figured we'd let ourselves in and help ourselves to the rich people party goods."
"Alright, and who's we? Are the rest of the Ducks here?" Emma asks. She didn't think through her sentence, so she cringes internally at Ducks.
"Um, yeah. But it's a huge house, you don't even have to look at Charlie," Julie says, opening the door. It's unlocked.
Emma scrunches her nose. "I hope not. We haven't talked since the whole thing."
"It makes sense. He's being a jerk. Russ said he and the rest of the boys would talk to him about it. But they're kind of scared of him, too," Connie murmurs, shaking her head.
Emma walks inside, and the volume of the radio is cranked up so high that she can feel the vibration beneath her feet. She, Connie, and Julie separate, and she makes a beeline for the drinks, and grabs herself a glass bottle of Sprite.
"Hey! I didn't think you'd be here," Jude says, pulling a Coke out of the cooler.
"Oh, Jude! Hey! Yeah, my friends dragged me here."
"Same here. Damn, I was in the middle of watching Melrose," Jude says, pulling the tab on his soda can.
"Same! My goodness, it's almost as if we're identical people."
Charlie watches from afar, as Dwayne and Kenny chat loudly over the noise of the music next to him. Emma is talking to some blond boy from Varsity, laughing and smiling a genuine smile. She's wearing one of her fancy dresses, and God, she looks beautiful.
He gulps.
"Hey, Charlie, what are you looking- oh," Dwayne says, twisting his mouth in sympathy.
"Man, you fumbled real bad, didn't you?" Kenny says, sucking in a breath through his teeth.
Charlie doesn't respond.
"But, Charlie, take a look at 'er," Dwayne says, gesturing his hand towards her. "Did you really think people would notice a lady like that is single and not jump at the opportunity to talk to 'er?"
"I know, I know," Charlie says, finally speaking up. "But that guy's on Varisty. I mean, of all people. This sucks."
"Look, maybe what she needs is just a good old fashioned apology. You need to make up for what you said that night," Kenny says.
"But what if she tells me she doesn't want me back? That she wants Blondie over there?" Charlie says, putting a hand on his forehead in distress.
"Well, then, at least you tried. Look, if she means that much to you, you need to overcome some hurdles," Kenny says.
"And don't you think that even if she doesn't forgive you, she still deserves to get a little bit of respect?" Dwayne adds.
"Yeah, I guess you guys are right."
"Of course we are," Dwayne says, tipping his hat.
Emma spots Charlie from across the room, looking at her. She pinches her lips, bids goodbye to Jude, and walks somewhere where she can be alone. She finds a corner in front of the door to some kind of utility closet, where there is, without a doubt, a couple making out. But she doesn't care. She just needs some time away from the loud, drunken screaming of the party.
She puts her head in her hands and hunches over her knees on the hardwood floor. Of course, she'd known before the party that they were broken up, considering she'd initiated it. But this was the first time it was finally sinking in. When she sees him, all she's allowed to do is look at him when he's not noticing. She's not allowed to walk over with a bright smile and invite him to a weekend movie. She's not allowed to visit his house or talk to his mother or refuse to lend him books, because she is now banned from anything related to Charlie for however long this is going to last.
A few tears wet her cheeks.
She wants to punch someone. Preferably Charlie. Because why, why, did he have to be like this? Because if he wasn't like this, she'd still be here. She'd be on Rick Riley's stupid million-dollar couch next to Charlie with his arm around her with Dwayne and Kenny fake-gagging in the background.
The dam cracks, and she swallows back a sob.
That's the way it should be. So why isn't it?
Emma trudges home. Rick's house isn't actually far from hers. She feels sluggish and tired. Even more so than she did when Connie and Julie first picked her up. Speaking of whom, Emma abandoned at the party. She wasn't their ride, so her absence wouldn't be significant.
When she gets home, her mother is in the kitchen, in her robe and some slippers, wearing a perfect, motherly raised eyebrow. She is holding a ceramic mug in her hands, with little daisies that Betty had painted on it in kindergarten. A chamomile tea bag is hanging off the side of the mug, and she is stirring the steaming liquid wit a spoon.
"So...you were out and about, weren't you?" her mother asks.
"I thought you were asleep, Ma," Emma blurts out tactlessly.
"Nice opening, kiddo. You just told me you knowingly snuck out."
"Sorry."
"I'm not mad. You should have fun once in a while. And you're not swaying or slurring your words, so I suppose I should be grateful," her mother says with a grin.
"Oh, thanks, Ma."
"No problem, sweetie. Look, you haven't been to Swan Lake in a while. Always at the public rinks and whatnot. Why don't you practice a bit since the showdown's coming up?"
Emma frowns. It's a weird request, especially coming from her mother, who's mostly payed no mind to how often Emma practices.
"Oh. Okay."
Her mother returns upstairs, and Emma pulls on her skates, which are laying sideways on a metal rack at the front door.
She hobbles out to the backyard and almost falls trying to open the screen door, due to her dumb idea of putting on her skates first.
She almost really falls when she sees someone standing on the frozen lake, snow collecting on his nose and cheeks. He's wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and is holding a tin can that is very familiar. Emma's fourth grade handwriting in black permanent marker is scribbled across a sign taped to the can.
Five dollars an hour to skate on Swan Lake, creepy boy.
"What are you doing here, Charlie?" Emma asks, taken aback.
"Well, so, I could be paying five dollars or fifteen dollars, depending on how this goes," Charlie says nervously.
Emma closes her eyes and looks the other way.
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, and I shouldn't have taken my anger at Orion out on you or the team. But the truth is, I love you, Emma. I really do, and I think I will for the rest of my life. And, I mean, if you want proof, it hasn't even been a month, and it's been hell without you. But this year, things have been really tough, and I'm not using that to justify anything, but I just really need you. I can't say anything except I'm just so, so sorry."
Emma wipes tears from her reddening eyes.
"I'll give you the world if you'll let me," he chokes out. "And I promise that this time around, it'll be so different. If you'll be willing to try a second time?"
Emma and Charlie are standing face to face now, and Charlie holds out the tin to her. Fifteen dollars, sitting at the bottom of the tin.
Emma releases a shaky breath, swallows, and takes the tin from him. "This is a really nice lake, Charlie. I think I deserve a tip."
Charlie lets out a laugh of relief and wipes his eyes. Emma skates over and hugs him, her mittens warm against his middle. His hands are wrapped around her neck, his face buried in her hair. They stay like that for a while. Emma's mom watches from the kitchen window with a knowing smile on her face.
That night, Emma slips fifteen dollars in her piggy bank. Not ten, not five. Fifteen.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
CLARA'S CORNER
to be completely honest, this is hella dramatic for a one week split. but i didn't want the original timeline of the movie to be set completely off course.
i don't know if i mentioned this earlier, but i'm not very good at writing that pre-breakup cuteness, so i might go back to edit it. the story's no good if you don't see that they actually like each other, right?? so i'm currently kind of unsatisfied, but it's okay, i'll fix it.
BUT CHARLIE AND SWAN LAKE OMFG IF ONLY THIS WAS REAL.