.EMERY'S POV.
"We're studying today. No matter what," he whispered to my right side as I shut my locker that Tuesday afternoon. We hadn't had the chance to study yesterday. I sighed and nodded, dreading Red Cross. That was a first, because I'd always loved it there. The RCC was my haven... and now with Nina acting weird and Fox and I having to do more maintenance than anything else... it was just different.
"What if Nina makes us clean again? And post more signs?" I asked, causing him to turn around and walk back to me.
"I'll snap if she does, because we've cleaned every inch of that building. And I've seen those Blood Drive signs plastered on every other, if not every, damn building in town... there's nothing left for her to whine about," he stated. And thus concluded the conversation. I could feel him watching me watching Teresa and her gang of girls as they snarled at me. My eyes tore away from them as soon as I felt a strong arm wrap around my neck and pull me forward. I looked up, my chin resting against the soft white material of Fox's dress shirt. In that moment I wished guys didn't smell so good.
His cologne paralyzed me, and it took me a moment to regain complete consciousness and take control. My initial reaction was to shove him away, but he saw that coming. He pressed me closer to him, and my reflexes stood no chance against his. "Would you mind sharing why you feel the need to suffocate me?" I asked in a sarcastically nice tone.
He smirked and let me go; taking a step back while I glowered at him menacingly. I raised my brow and crossed my arms. "You should've seen the look on their faces," he chuckled, leaning against a locker. Heat rushed to my cheeks as the realization hit me. He hugged me – in the casual friendly manor – to piss the girls off.
"So you did that to make them jealous?" I asked just to confirm.
"Yeah," he shrugged. "They'll hate you, and then they'll ask you to go shopping with them." When I didn't speak he added, "Or they'll ask to visit the convent." I shoved him, or made a pathetic attempt to. He started laughing, and I headed for home to change.
***
Nina stumbled out of her office, rubbing her temples. "Nina, are you ok?" I asked quietly, stepping toward her, "Is it cramps or something?"
"Uh – yeah, Emery honey I'm so sorry, I've been making you do so much lately. I feel terrible to put so much responsibility on you-" she mumbled, but I jumped right in.
"Nina, it's fine, you're not feeling well. I can take it from here," I assured her.
She nodded, a little unsure. "I hate canceling my appointments, but I won't be able to teach this afternoon's CPR class... I hope it's not too late to call every-"
"Nina, I'll teach the class. It's fine," I told her.
"No hun, you've done enough, I just need a day to get some rest," she sighed. "You should go home and enjoy a little time off."
"I will teach the class, and then I will lock up. It's final, Nina," I laughed, leading her to the front door.
"I don't deserve such an amazing volunteer, Emery," she smiled. Just as she exited the glass doors and took a right, Fox came jogging in from the left.
"Hey, was that Nina that just left?" he breathed, running a hand through his matted hair.
"Yep," I sighed, "She wasn't feeling well."
"Oh," he paused, taking a few gulps of water, "Wait, she left? So we can leave too, right?"
"You can," I stated, "I have to stay to teach a class. And lock up."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, Fox. I offered to help her, cause she obviously needs some," I retorted, "Friends help each other out."
"Will you stop treating me like I'm retarded?"
"Only if you stop asking stupid questions and using inappropriate words," I quipped.
"Um, am I interrupting something..?" a third party asked. Both Fox and I turned to the front door, and I couldn't help but blush at the hunk standing in the doorway.
"Not at all," I lied with a grin, "Are you here for the CPR class?" He nodded, and I ran a hand through my hair as his blue eyes smiled back at me.
***
.FOX'S POV.
I escorted an old lady to the room where Emery and the creepy gay guy were setting up the blow up dolls and mats and other stuff. "What's your name young man?" the senior citizen asked.
"Fox," I said, "And yours?"
"Fox? How lovely, I'm Deirdre," she smiled and pointed to the girl next to her, "And this is my granddaughter, Linda."
Linda was drooling as she whispered, "Hi." Oh, God. Remind me again why I stayed for the class? Studying.
I saw Emery smirk in my direction before turning back to Mr. Baby GAP. She was so oblivious. "Right, so how does this work?" I asked Emery, leaving Deirdre with her granddaughter.
"Well. I work with Tommy, and you work with those lovely ladies over there. The instruction guide is on the doll, so it shouldn't be too hard," she told me.
"Tommy? Listen Em, there is no way I'm teaching those ladies how to blow on a doll, they're freakin' creepy," I told her, and she smirked.
"Why can't you just teach all of them at once? I'm sure Mr. Baby GAP wouldn't mind, and the Golden Girl would love to learn from a professional," I added.
She laughed this time. "Golden Girl? That's mean, Fox, she's not that old," she said, taking another look at the granny in the corner. "And Mr. Baby GAP? What the hell's with that? Tommy is a firefighter."
"A gay one," I smirked.
She frowned, and glared at me, "Fine. I'll teach the whole group, on one condition."
"I'll do anything," I said, immediately wishing I had chosen other words.
"Okay," she said, raising her voice to get everyone's attention, "Ladies and gentleman, I'm Emery, and this is my lovely assistant, Fox," she smiled. She's good.
"You do exactly what I tell you," she whispered as we both sat down on the mat by the blow up doll on the floor.
"If there is ever someone who needs CPR, this is what you do," she started. I did just as she instructed, pretending to check a pulse, pumping the chest, blowing into the mouth. It was pretty weird, but I was desperate for the A in creative writing. My dad would probably neuter me and then send me to some military school thousands of miles away if I failed again. He even considered sending me to my mother's. I almost lost it. We moved on, giving them each their own doll to practice on.
Emery wrapped up the class and gave them each a certificate, congratulating them on their 'immense accomplishment'.
***
"You disinfect those dolls, right?" I asked, sitting on the couch in the lobby.
"I did now, but I'm not sure if the one you practiced on was clean, since Carlos has been gone for a while," she shrugged.
"You're kidding me."
"Yeah, I am." Relief washed over me as she laughed.
"You're lucky you got a doll. I should've made you practice on Linda," she said, and when she saw the disgusted look on my face, she added, "Or her grandmother." I shuddered just thinking about it.
"I would've rather demonstrated on Tommy," I muttered, even though I wouldn't have done that either. She laughed again. A light, soft chuckle.
"I'm sure..." she commented.
"Nah, he would've liked it."
"No, he wouldn't have."
"He's gay, Em. He likes men," I told her in all seriousness.
"Just because he knows how to dress doesn't mean he's gay," she said, trying to make herself believe her own words.
"Fireman? He's tiny! I swear he shops at Baby GAP..." I smirked.
"No, he doesn't, Fox. You're so mean," she laughed.
"He does. I bet he likes sliding down the poles at the fire station," I laughed, "God, I thought girls had gay-dars. You're supposed to sense this type of stuff."
"You're such a perve," she sighed. I saw that smile, though, the one she was trying to hid.
"And you refuse to accept that I'm right." Just because I was going to study, didn't mean I couldn't have a little fun with it.
***
.EMERY'S POV.
If only Tommy had been a little scruffier, and a little less scrawny... I sighed and looked at the SAT list again, having memorized the definitions the night before. "Ok. The first word is abjure," I said, and averted my gaze to Fox who was staring at me strangely.
"Do you know what it means?" I asked.
"No clue. You're the tutor here."
"Ok, I'll give you a sentence, and you'll guess the meaning," I told him, focusing on the list.
"On the last Creative Writing exam, you abjured and settled for a failing grade," I sighed, looking up to see his reaction. He just stared at me.
"It's not that hard, Mr. Evans," I frowned, "I don't have to do this, you know? I could go home right now and leave you here."
"To give up," he stated as he peered over my shoulder.
"Hey!" I snapped, clutching the paper to my chest, "No cheating." He smirked, but sat back on the couch and motioned for me to continue.
"Ok, narcissistic," I said, peaking at the paper. "Fox Evans is the most narcissistic person I've ever met."
He smiled, "You're right," he said. I raised my eyebrows in confusion. "I probably am the sexiest person you've ever met."
"You just proved me right," I sighed. "And no it's not sexy. It means vain, egotistical, conceited, and/or self-absorbed, actually."
He pulled the paper from my hands, "My turn," he said, smiling devilishly as he scanned the paper.
"But I know all the words," I protested.
"Well then I'll practice my sentence structure," he shrugged.
"Acquiesce," he said, "Sooner or later Em, you're gonna acquiesce to the fact that I'm irresistible."
I smirked, "It means agree, or give in. And no I will not."
"We'll see about that," he muttered, still smiling as he looked over the list again.
"Do something with juxtapose," I told him, trying to give him a word that he couldn't have fun with.
"If I juxtaposed you and Teresa, the only similarity would be gender," he smirked. Asshole.
"I'd consider that a compliment," I muttered. In contrast to Teresa, I'm smarter.
"I wouldn't, but then again, it's just a sentence," he smirked again. I snatched the paper back from him and put it behind my back.
"Prostrate, meaning to lay flat," I stated. "Gimme a sentence - a serious sentence – for that word."
"Women like it when I prostrate them," he said simply, although the sentence sounded weird.
He had on his poker face, but I glared at him until he let out a chuckle.
"I said serious," I scolded.
"I was serious."
"You're an ass. And you used the word the wrong way."
"And you're... prosaic," he countered, smiling confidently. He just called me dull... with an SAT word.
"I'd rather be boring than narcissistic," I said, which wasn't a complete lie.
"I can't acquiesce with you on that one."
"You are impossible," I shook my head.
"Nah, I just hate abjuring when it comes to verbal fights," he grinned.
"I have to close up," I said suddenly, I was out of SAT words and sick of his insults. I went to shut off the lights in the building while he sat there.
"What about studying? You promised, Em," he called.
"You seem to have them down. Take my list, I know the words already," I called back, yawning as I locked the front doors and headed for the back door. He followed.
"What's up with you?" he asked, close behind me.
"Nothing, I've just got to get my prosaic-self to bed," I huffed, stepping out into the cool night. Yep, it was definitely late-September.
"Oh c'mon, you're seriously mad at me?" he asked.
"Nope, I'm fine," I said through my teeth as I locked the back door and shoved my set of keys into my bag. I turned on my heel and started walking home, hungry as hell.
"Em, I was just trying to piss you off," he said, coming up next to me.
"Yeah, well, you succeeded," I told him, pulling my iPod out.
"Well I didn't expect you to get mad, just... annoyed." I'm sure that explanation sounded better in his head.
"I'm sorry I disappointed you...?" I said in a sarcastic, purposefully awkward manner.
"Don't be like that." I turned to glare at him, narrowing my boring brown eyes. "I'm sorry, alright?" he blurted and I tried not to smile. I got the narcissist to apologize. "Can you ever forgive me?" he pleaded mock-sincerely, pouting.
"Ehhh..."
"Say yes, Em," he said, "Or else I'll prostrate you." I blushed, thankful it was dark and he couldn't see it.
"We wouldn't want that," I laughed.
"I don't know about that, I'm pretty sure you want me," he said in that cocky voice of his.
"You're forgiven, perve. Study those words," I said, walking away.
"Don't need to," he called, turning back to the parking lot. His ego was freakin' inflated, I bet it didn't fit into his car. It was almost that big and unhealthy. Almost.