Paige sat hunched forward slightly in her seat at the end of the table, shoveling forkfuls of food into her mouth one after the other. She was rushing, she knew. And she knew that eating so fast was bad for her.
It was her own fault. She had let her phone die, and, as a result, she didn't have anything to occupy her while she sat there and ate all by herself. There was nothing to make her feel less conspicuous - the sad girl sitting all alone in the middle of a crowded cafeteria. So, she was manically force-feeding herself, eager to get through the ordeal as quickly as possible.
"Hey," she heard in a calm, confident, friendly voice. She let her head pan upwards slowly, from the loose-fitting navy sweats that were almost touching the other side of the table where she was sitting, past the hands holding onto one of the bland, bisque-colored cafeteria trays, up to the collar of the girl's Drexel Swimming jersey. That's where Paige's eyes stopped, momentarily distracted by the display of the girl's collarbone, visible because of the way the jersey had shifted just off of her shoulder. The girl, feeling Paige's eyes, gave a nervous chuckle, taking a hand off of her tray to secure the strap back in its place. Paige guiltily snapped her focus up to the woman's face; her eyes distracted this time by the lips there, curled into a welcoming smile. "I'm Emily." Emily's arm spasmed, as if she were about to extend it to Paige for a handshake but thought better of it at the last second.
Paige didn't need to be told what her visitor's name was. She had seen Emily at practice and in the locker room a few times, but they had never actually spoken to each other. Paige was, frankly, astonished that Emily was speaking to her there in the cafeteria.
"Oh. Yeah. Em…" Paige got lost in Emily's big brown eyes for a moment. "ily," she blurted out quickly, not certain that she should admit that she already knew Emily's name. They had never been introduced, and she didn't want to seem like a stalker.
"You can call me 'Em,' " Emily offered pleasantly, thinking that uncertainty about the appropriateness of the nickname was the reason that her name had come out of Paige's mouth all disconnected and awkward. "That's what my friends called me back home. I kind of miss it," she concluded with a shrug.
Paige nodded her head, the way that a schoolgirl would upon learning a new fact that she was trying to seal in her memory.
"… and you're… Paige, right?" Emily coaxed.
Paige realized that she had been too caught up in the fact that Emily Fields was speaking to her to have replied to her introduction. She chuckled nervously, still unable to find any words.
"Is it okay for me to sit?" Emily asked, suddenly worried, from the way that Paige was reacting, that she was intruding.
"Oh, yeah!" Paige came back to herself. "Yeah, sit! Sit!" Paige realized that she had stood up while she urged Emily to sit down. She chuckled nervously and sat again. "Yeah, I'm Paige," she said, patting her chest as if to indicate whom she was talking about. "I've seen you at practice," she admitted, dipping her head for a moment.
It was Emily's turn to chuckle nervously, arranging the food on her tray as she settled in. Paige's head worked its way down again, away from the danger zone of Emily's angelic face; opting to look at the few crumbs of croutons left over from her salad instead. She mashed them up with her fork, just to have something to do. There were a few moments of awkward silence before Paige, feeling eyes on her, looked up, confused.
"Oh, sorry," Emily said, hitting Paige with that warm smile again. "I was just looking at your hair." Emily reached across the table, combing her fingers through the auburn waves. "It looks so soft. My hair's always such a wreck after a couple of hours in that chlorine bath," Emily complained, pulling out a strand of her dark, flawless hair, to illustrate her point, but it only served to show how false the statement had been. She laughed lightly, so Paige did, too. Paige wanted to tell Emily that she was crazy – that her hair was perfect – but she couldn't get her tongue to form the words. Actually, she really wanted to return Emily's gesture; to reach out and feel the softness of Emily's hair for herself, but there was no way she could conjure up that kind of courage.
Emily laughed again and shook her head, turning her attention to her food. She tore a dinner roll into two pieces, holding one between her thumb and forefinger, with her other fingers floating delicately in the air as she pushed the bread against the salad on her on her fork before parting her lips and lifting the fork up to them. Paige cursed herself for the thoughts that were going through her head as she observed the coordinated movement of Emily's fingers and lips. She swung her head from one side to the other, trying to find something less pervy to focus her eyes upon.
Emily set down her fork and the remains of the roll, slumping her shoulders slightly. She could tell that she was making Paige uncomfortable. "You don't have to stay," she told Paige softly and earnestly. She didn't sound upset. "I know what it feels like, when you're almost finished eating, and someone comes and sits down next to you." Emily smiled weakly. "And then there's that whole awkward, forced socializing."
Emily's smile was like a cozy fireplace. Paige, in fact, could actually feel her cheeks warming.
She hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to do. In the end, not wanting to go but not knowing how to stay, she picked up her tray and, with a sad smile, but without a word, walked over to drop it off at the conveyor belt. She waved at Emily as she walked by her again, on her way to the exit.
Idiot! she thought as she pushed through the heavy wooden door. I should've said, 'Actually, I was about to hit the salad bar again – can I get you anything?'
Paige hadn't meant to be rude. And she definitely would have enjoyed spending some time with Emily Fields. It was just the curse of being Paige McCullers: She wasn't good with new people. She could never come up with the right thing to say or do until it was too late.
Paige zipped up her hoodie and pulled her hair up, tucking it into the hood. Emily was crazy. There was no comparison between that limp, lifeless mess and Emily's gorgeous mane.
Still on a high from the encounter, however brief, with her beautiful, friendly teammate, Paige made it back to her apartment. She tried to convince herself that Emily hadn't meant anything by coming over to sit with her – or by staring at and playing with her hair. There was nothing unusual about that, was there? From the few times she'd seen Emily, she knew her to be an outgoing, friendly, hands-on kind of person. It was foolish to read too much into things like that.
Her head knew that there were no motives behind it, but she was having a hard time convincing her heart.
Back in the cafeteria, Emily sighed quietly as she reached into her backpack for a book to keep her company for lunch. Well, I gave it a shot. Paige wasn't interested. Maybe she wasn't interested in girls in general, or maybe Emily just wasn't her type. Maybe she had come on too strong with the hair thing, but she didn't regret it. She had learned that you don't get anywhere without taking some risks. She only hoped that she could rebound, somehow, from that first impression and get to know Paige as a friend, if Paige wasn't interested in anything more.
"Hey, Emily."
Paige was already in her warm-up suit when she sat down on the bench next to Emily. Emily smiled at her, but didn't say anything.
"Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday," Paige said, trying her best to look Emily in the eyes. That in itself was a hard enough task, but Paige had to contend with the extra distraction of Emily applying moisturizer to her bare, toned arms. "I just…" Emily shot Paige such a sweet smile that Paige lost her train of thought. "I just had to get to a… you know," she eked out with a shrug of her shoulders, her voice trembling slightly. She cursed herself for not having come up with a cover story, but, to be honest, she didn't think that she'd actually be able to summon up the courage to go over and talk to Emily in the first place.
Emily nodded, still smiling. "I understand," she said pleasantly as she extended her arm and rubbed more moisturizer in. Paige, still feeling guilty, tried to return Emily's smile, but it wasn't working. She dipped her head. Emily leaned in a bit and risked laying her hand on Paige's wrist. "Paige, it's fine. I wasn't offended." Paige nodded, and Emily, emboldened by the fact that Paige hadn't recoiled at her touch, squeezed her wrist gently, in a friendly gesture. "Oh, oops!" Emily used the corner of her towel to wipe some moisturizer off of Paige's arm. "I didn't mean to slime you!"
"That's okay! I needed some moisturizing!" Paige's eyes darted over to check Emily's response quickly, and then darted back down to her lap. Her heart was beating wildly. She couldn't believe that she had actually come up with an appropriate and even mildly amusing response to what Emily had said. She was half-terrified that Emily would take her seriously and start applying moisturizer to her arms.
Instead, focusing on a tiny blemish on Paige's forehead, Emily asked, "How'd you get that scar?"
"Oh, yeah." Paige touched her forehead on the right side, and then on the left, feeling for the scar. "I... I was being stupid. I thought I was a ballerina..." Paige smiled nervously as she looked just over Emily's shoulder, not into her eyes. "I was three, by the way. So, anyway, I was trying out some moves in front of the mirror in the bathroom, and I slipped and banged my head on the tub." Emily winced at the thought of it. "My Mom heard me screaming and freaked out, you know, 'I'm such a horrible mom... I should've been watching you more closely...' " Paige chuckled at the memory and then shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't even notice it when I see myself in the mirror anymore, to be honest. I even forget what side it's on."
Emily reached out her right index finger and traced the scar on the left side of Paige's forehead. Paige would never again forget what side the scar was on, the touch of Emily's finger leaving an impression more indelible than any scarred-over skin.
"Yeah," Emily confirmed, "it's not really noticeable, unless you're..."
Oops.
Emily couldn't believe that she had almost admitted to staring at Paige. And she couldn't believe that history was repeating itself so soon. Once again, Emily had made her improper staring even worse by following it with fingers all up in Paige's face. She quickly retracted her hand and cleared her throat, turning her eyes away from Paige's scar.
Paige shook her head to clear her thoughts, and then summoned the courage to look Emily in the eyes again, determined to get to the reason that she had joined Emily on the bench to begin with. "We should… um…" She cleared her throat. "We should get lunch sometime, though."
"Okay," Emily said, smiling in a way that she hoped would be non-threatening. She didn't dare say, "I'd like that." No use scaring Paige off again. Paige was being friendly, like a human being, but it was obvious that she was still uncomfortable about Emily's flirty behavior from the day before - undoubtedly made worse by her flirty behavior from just a moment before.
"Okay," Paige confirmed, letting her shoulders relax. The silence that followed was painful. "Okay, so, I'll see you... sometime."
Emily nodded, feeling guilty that her eyes followed Paige all the way out of the locker room. Why did Paige McCullers have to be so damned cute?
A/N - Thanks so much for giving this story a chance.
The working title was, "The Story of my Life." I tend to put anecdotes from my life into all of my stories, but this one, more than any of the others, is pretty much a synopsis of the many miscues and follies of my younger days. If there's any moral to the story, it's what people always used to tell me (but I was too clueless and scared to believe): Take a chance! She likes you! Be brave!
So, when you read something and think, "No way, no one could ever be that clueless!" just remember that these experiences are based on true stories.
And I apologize to the many of you out there who hate it when I write a non-badass Paige... This probably isn't the story for you - at least not in the early chapters. :(
Apologies also to those who hate how short my chapters are... As I've said in the past, I post every day (guaranteed!), so, if you hate the short chapters, my sincere suggestion is that you pretend that I only update once a week, and read 7 chapters at a time. :)
Thanks again! :) Much love!