The romance is here. Kind of. This is one of my favourite chapters so far :)
Dedicated to liaaaaaaaa.
I yawn as I stare into the barren refrigerator. Cheese. Butter. I glance to the open breadbin. No bread. Great.
"I'm going shopping," I call to no-one in particular.
Vince is out on a date with a girl who'll probably look the spitting image of every other girl he brings home. Ollie's playing bass in his room, the chords travelling underneath the door and into my ears, making me smile. I don't know, or care, where Emmy is.
I cross to my room, grabbing a hoody and slipping my phone into the back pocket of my chinos, before I head to the front door. I stop dead when I see Emmy waiting by the door, holding my car keys like they're a trophy.
"I'm coming."
I roll my eyes. "Do you have to?"
She nods. "Yes. I don't trust you to buy my food. Besides, you don't know what I like."
"Don't care either," I mumble, striding to the door to meet her, holding out my hand to take the keys from her.
She drops them into my palm and follows me out into the hallway.
"Don't you ever dress normally?" I ask as we wait for the lift to reach our floor.
She looks down at her purple ripped jeans and Converse before pulling at the fabric of her MCR t-shirt. "This is normal."
I don't answer, walking into the lift. She takes the space beside me and we both reach for the button pad at the same time. Our hands brush and I tear mine backwards like I've just been shocked.
"Sorry," she mutters, jabbing the button with a smile.
The doors close and we stand in an awkward silence. Emmy's perfume fills my nose as she twirls her hair in her fingers, her bracelets clattering against each other on her wrist. I give her a sideways glance and my pulse leaps when I notice she's doing the same.
"You can look at me, you know. It's not a crime."
I struggle with a comeback, fortunately being saved having to answer by the doors opening again, leading us into the foyer.
We reach my car without another word. Emmy quirks an eyebrow as I point the key fob at the car, making the lights flash as it unlocks.
"Green cars are supposed to be unlucky."
I pause, my hand on the driver's door handle. "I like green."
"So do I," Emmy replies. "It's actually my favourite colour."
My eyes fall to her t-shirt again, which is in fact emerald, before I shake myself out of a stupor and get into the car.
Emmy lingers by the passenger's door for a second before she leans down to look at me through the window. I roll it down and she cocks her head at me, looking at me from beneath her side fringe.
"Can I sit next to you, or do I have to hide in the back?"
The fact that she's taking the piss out of my dislike towards her causes me to let out a laugh before I can disguise it as a cough. "Whatever."
"Awesome!" She grins, opening the door and sliding in beside me.
I shift the car into reverse, backing it out of the parking space across the road from the flats and I notice how close my hand is to Emmy's leg. My lips twitch with a smile as I pull onto the main road. Before I've even steered the car onto the next street, Emmy's playing with the car radio. Static fills the car as she flicks between various stations; pop, rock, classical. She laughs at the sound of a man warbling before she gives up, pressing the button for the CD function instead.
I rack my brains, trying to remember what I'd been listening to last time I'd been in the car. I pray it's something good and when All Time Low pumps out of the speakers I grin at the windscreen.
"Weightless!" Emmy says. "I love this song." She starts singing along and I enjoy the sound of her voice.
When the song finishes she turns to me with a smile. "Sing 'Stella' with me?"
I raise my eyebrows at her as we stop at a red light. "Why?"
She shrugs. "I wanna see what we sound like together."
The traffic starts moving again and I pause before giving her an answer. "You'll have to keep waiting."
She frowns and punches my arm. I jolt at the contact. "You suck."
"Not bothered," I reply, indicating into the supermarket car-park. It's only a short drive from the flats but there's no way I'm carrying shopping home again, not when I could win an Olympic gold medal for breaking the most shopping items on a fifteen minute walk.
We park up and head to the main doors, Emmy still humming All Time Low under her breath.
"Big trolley or little trolley?"
"Seeing as we have no food in the house, I'd say big trolley."
Emmy nods and skips off, literally, to grab a trolley. When she comes back she pokes my arm.
"You answered me straight then. No jokes or insults."
I fall into step with her as we head to the first aisle. "So?"
She shrugs after dropping a gossip magazine into the trolley. "Just saying."
I point to the magazine. "We came here for food, you know."
"I know," she replies, tossing in a giant bag of crisps and a bottle of soda that's on special offer.
"Real food," I add.
"This is real food," she insists before gasping dramatically. "It's not imaginary. You can see it too, right?"
I snort. "Weird."
"Interesting," she corrects. "Besides, it makes for a fun life."
"How so?"
She stops the trolley next to a stack of bananas and waits for me to deposit a few bunches next to the junk food. "Well it makes you laugh, for one. And it means you'll fall for my charm."
I stare at her, taking in the way her innocent eyes are glinting with humour. "Right."
"Right." She nods. "Oh, we need potatoes." She dances over to the vegetable section. "My sister and I have a potato dance."
I raise my eyebrows though I'm not at all surprised. This girl really is weird.
"Do you wanna see it?"
"Do you wanna get thrown out?"
She waves a hand at me. "Wouldn't be the first time."
I believe her too.
Twenty minutes later and we're only halfway round the shop. I'm beginning to get bored. Emmy's chattering away beside me, something about eggs, and I stop the trolley to ask her what she's on about.
"For tea," she says. "I feel like boiled eggs and soldiers."
I can't remember the last time I ate that. "Sounds good."
She grins at me, making me smile in response. She catches my expression and laughs.
"You like me, don't you?"
I turn away, picking up a tray of eggs. When I face the trolley again she's standing between me and the handle.
"Don't you?"
I stare her down but she doesn't blink. I step closer, closing the gap between me and her, stopping when our shoes touch. I hear her take a sharp breath and I smirk. The expression, however, is knocked clean off my face when a little old lady pushes her trolley into ours, causing Emmy to stumble into me as the handle hits her back. She puts her hands up as she crashes into my chest. My pulse immediately rockets and Emmy blushes.
"Sorry," she mutters. Her breath is hot on my face and she smells of mint.
I look down at her hands on my chest and she seems to realise they're still there at the same time as me.
"Sorry," she repeats, removing her hands to push at the handle behind her back. Once the trolley's moved she steps away from me.
I stay where I am, hoping she couldn't feel my heart racing when her hands had been raising goosebumps on my skin.
I force out an awkward laugh. "Old people should have to take trolley driving tests."
My attempt at humour seems to succeed in bumping the dazed look out of Emmy's eyes and she grins at me.
"We should call an accident helpline."
I snigger before pulling on a business like tone like the guys from the annoying insurance adverts on TV. "Have you been injured?"
She laughs. "My dad always says ninja-ed instead of injured."
"He sounds like a cool guy."
"He is," she replies. "I'd say he's almost as cool as me. Now, where's the chocolate cake?"
And just like that the awkward moment is gone. Forgotten for now at least.