I'm kicking myself right now because I know the last thing I need is another project. I have so much summer work for school and a million other unfinished projects going. And yes, I know I said I was done writing for this fandom, but I could not resist adding some Jemily to the mix. I'm not sure how far this will go, but for now I'll place it at a minimum of five chapters. I also solemnly swear that in future installments, there will be kisses and cuddling and angst and more lovely femslash. I love these two girls so much, god help me. Until next time, please enjoy.
"… and that is why unfunded government liabilities are harmful not just to our nation's debt crisis, but also to our natural rights as citizens of the United States. Thank you."
Emily stepped down from the podium, her fingers sliding along the smooth mahogany wood as she retreated to her desk. The class was deadly silent. Strangely silent. She risked a glance upward.
Over half of the students were slouched in their chairs, heads bobbing forward in slumber. The other half was wide awake, but hunched over their phones. The insistent tapping of fingers on tiny keyboards was annoying like nails scraping against a chalkboard. Emily swallowed a furious outburst and collapsed into her seat.
"That was an excellent point, Emily," the teacher— a guy in his late fifties with a few wisps of gray hair at his temples— said as he circled back to the podium. "Would anyone else like to present a counterargument to that?"
Nothing. Emily almost expected to hear the sound of crickets. She could definitely hear the chirping in her head, and it was humiliating. Right then, her savior the bell rang and she was able to escape that hell. She sprang up from her chair as if she'd sat on a thumbtack and was the first one out of the room.
The hallway bustled with teenagers and beeping phones and general murmur. Emily pushed her way through the clamor until she reached her locker. She plugged in the combination and cursed softly as the cheap metal door swung open, allowing a haphazardly-placed stack of textbooks to fall on her foot.
"Son of a bitch," she groaned, leaning down to reorganize the mess. When did she let her locker become a disaster zone? It looked like a tornado had ripped straight through it.
It took a solid five minutes to get the plethora of textbooks organized into a take-home pile and a stay-at-school pile. Emily heaved the former set of books into her book bag, checked her makeup in the mini magnetic mirror on the inside of the locker door, then slammed the stupid thing shut and made her way down the emptier hallway.
It was a miracle she had AP Government & Economics last period. It was always the most tiring class of the day, so getting to leave school the moment that class had sucked the last ounce of energy out of her was great. She enjoyed the class well enough, even if, at this late in the school year, none of her classmates cared about the end-of-the-year debates. They'd all taken the final a month ago, and the grade for debates was just extra credit. Emily was, apparently, the only one interested in taking advantage of that little boost for her GPA. Everyone else was just counting down the days until graduation. At this point, they only had to count on one hand.
There were a few stragglers in the schoolyard as she jogged down the front steps, but the majority of the student body had taken off in buses and cars by now. Emily continued her trek towards her waiting Volvo in the parking lot, but slowed to a stop when two boys ran right in front of her. One of them stepped on her toe.
"Yeah, sure, of course you're excused!" she yelled after them, following their receding forms with eyes like daggers. "Assholes," Emily mumbled as an afterthought. She continued onward to the parking lot, only to be cut off by another gaggle of students.
She halted again, confusion making her forehead scrunch up like tissue paper. She glanced behind her and spotted more people heading in her direction, then going right past her. It was like a bunch of iron shavings attracted to a giant horseshoe magnet. Everyone was clearly headed for the same destination.
"What the hell…?" Emily sighed, spinning back around and tagging along with another small group. She tried to tune in to their excited chatter, but nothing they said gave her any clues as to what all the commotion was about.
They turned around the edge of the school building, and at last it was apparent what was exciting so many people.
At the edge of the lawn, in full view of the busy street the front of their school faced, was the cheerleading squad. Most of the girls were decked out in very tight and very revealing white halter tops and blue shorts— their school's colors. A few had their pom-poms and were swishing them around eagerly. Others were handing out fliers to the masses they'd attracted. Two girls were holding up a large poster board sign decorated with big bubble letters and a smattering of glitter. It was emblazoned with the words:
CAR WASH TOMORROW! 12-3
ONLY $5.00 PER CAR
PARKING LOT OF VAL'S DRUGSTORE
COME SUPPORT WEST LAKE HIGH'S CHEERLEADERS!
Emily snorted in disgust and started to turn away. "I'd rather support literally any other cause," she muttered to herself as she marched back across the lawn. "What could those primadonnas want to raise money for anyway? Brand new uniforms that are three sizes too small instead of two?"
She slid into the plush leather driver's seat of her Volvo and turned the key in the ignition. The young engine rumbled to life, and within a minute she had pulled out of the parking lot on her way home.
The car had been a gift for her sixteenth birthday from her very stoic stepfather. It was the nicest thing he had ever done for her. Otherwise, he had made absolutely zero effort in trying to incorporate himself into the lives of Emily and her sisters. Sometimes, it still felt like he was a near-stranger sitting with them at the dinner table. Ever since Emily's two older sisters had been shipped off to faraway Ivy leagues, it was even more lonely at home. She almost wanted to turn the Volvo in any other direction besides home. But she went there anyway.
The next morning was a Saturday. The sun seemed particularly annoying and bright as it sliced through a gap in Emily's otherwise firmly shut curtains. She rolled over in her bed and spied the time on her alarm clock, which had been silenced for the weekend.
It was almost noon. She groaned softly, sitting up and stretching. She grabbed her outfit of the day— a rather unimpressive t-shirt with an old pair of jean shorts— and trudged like a zombie down the hall.
A small number of minutes later, Emily was in the kitchen idly eating cereal. She was just about to shovel another spoonful of tasteless bran flakes in her mouth when her younger sister Rebecca came rushing in. She was a sophomore to Emily's senior, and she also happened to be the least "intellectually gathered"— their mother's words— of the four Davis sisters. Becca hadn't needed a ride home from school yesterday because she had caught a ride from one of her friends' parents. Oh, and the topper for this sugary sweet cake? She was a member of the cheer squad.
"I need you to drive me to the fundraiser," Becca said, completely forgoing any greetings as she flounced up to the table. She leaned forward in order to catch Emily's stink eye.
"Fundraiser for what?" she grumbled after swallowing a mouthful of bran mush.
"For cheer," Becca told her shortly. She tugged at the collar of her shirt to reveal a bikini strap. "We're doing a car wash. Not that you would know, anyways."
"Or care," Emily added. "Steve's home. Ask him to take you."
The other girl shook her head. "Stepdaddy said you would drive me. So come on."
Emily suppressed a shudder at her sister's name for their stepfather. Without a word, she dumped her dishes in the sink, grabbed her keys out of the dish by the front door, then headed out to her car without holding the front door for Becca, who struggled to catch up.
"Looks like your car could use a good washing," Becca noted. Her nose was scrunched up in disdain as she gingerly took hold of the handle of the front passenger door. "Did you drive it through, like, a mud storm?"
"Could you, like, not talk until I drop you off?" Emily asked, checking her mirrors before backing out of the long driveway. "No need for you to waste your breath, because I won't be listening to any of your high-pitched babble."
Becca slid down in her seat and glared out the window. It was a short drive, luckily. Emily remembered where the stupid event was taking place, but even if she had forgotten where it was, the girls stationed every few feet along the curb with flashy signs would've given her plenty of directions. Becca waved out the window excitedly at each one.
Emily had barely pulled into the parking lot of Val's Drugstore when Becca had unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out of the car. Emily couldn't help but let her jaw drop as she took in the collection of streamers, posters, people and cars clustered in the parking lot. It looked like the goddamn president was visiting or something.
Her sister had already stripped down to her skimpy swimsuit and taken ahold of a sponge. Emily manually shut her jaw, watching as the numerous high school girls dipped soapy sponges in buckets, slapped dripping rags onto windshields, and sprayed hoses over grubby bumpers. She was sitting there idling in the parking lot for so long, she didn't even realize that a smaller group of cheerleaders had broken away from their pack to walk over to the Volvo.
One of the girls tapped on Emily's window, and she rolled it down with a gulp.
"If you want service, miss, you're gonna have to move to the back of the line over there," she informed her while pointing to the other end of the lot. The line stretched around almost the entire perimeter of the lot.
It took a second for Emily to recompose herself. "Ahem, no, I'm not here for your porno car wash. I was just dropping my sister off." She got a closer look at the girl, then laughed scornfully. "By the way, 'miss,' we've had classes together since second grade. I would've thought you had space in your brain to remember my name, but I guess not."
An offended look quickly formed on the girl's face, and she rested one hand over her wet chest as she stepped back from the car. Emily set the car back into drive and was beginning to press down on the gas pedal when another girl came up to her window.
"Emily Davis, right?"
Emily moved to roll up the window, but the girl had placed her hands over it, preventing any movement. She was walking along with the car as it rolled slowly forward, until the driver set it back into park. Reluctantly, Emily glanced up and immediately regretted it.
A lacy black bikini clung to the girl's tanned skin, slick with sweat and water. Emily's eyes trailed upward to find an inquisitive face framed with strands of blonde hair darkened by moisture. The rest of her locks were tamed into a braid that trailed past her left shoulder. The girl's eyes were such a striking shade of blue-green, and Emily couldn't tear herself away from them.
There was no way she could leave now.
"Um…" Em coughed, awkwardly leaning her elbow against the armrest in the door. "Yes. That's me."
"Well, then." The girl chuckled as she drummed her manicured nails against the car's open window space. They were painted a dark magenta, which Emily could only hope didn't match the color of her cheeks at the moment. "How about we just give you a quick wash. I can give you a discount."
The first girl stepped forward, her eyes narrowed into angry slits. "Uh, what the hell are you doing? Lacey said no discounts—"
"Lacey," the blonde interrupted, twisting the upper half of her body to face her companion, "can go suck a fat one. I want to give Emily here a discount, and you know I do what I want. Isn't that right, Katie?"
The other girl gritted her teeth and pulled her fingers into tight fists, but didn't argue any more. She whirled around and stormed back to the rest of the squad, wordlessly fuming.
The other two girls who had walked over still stood behind the blonde, and showed no signs of leaving. "So," the new ringleader drawled as she rested her elbows against the door and placed her face between her forearms. "How about three dollars?"
"I mean… well, I guess… sure. What— what the hell," Emily replied. At last the girl moved out of the window, and Emily was able to roll it up. The trio wasted no time getting to work.
The other two were attractive, sure, but Emily was fixated on the blonde. Her every movement was silky; not one misstep or stumble. Her bare feet tiptoed over the hot asphalt, slender legs twirling around the car. Sponges squelched and bubbles slid down the Volvo's navy hood. The suds-infused water glinted off the car's paint, dazzling Emily's vision with sunlight. The girl's plaited beige blonde hair was still brighter somehow.
Emily couldn't understand it. The girl looked old enough to be in her grade, but Em was familiar with almost everyone in her class. She must have been a junior, then. But how did she know Emily's name? Emily loved the mystery of this girl. She loved trying to figure her out while watching her through the tinted glass distorted by the gushing hose aimed at the car.
When the Volvo was cleaned, rinsed, and scrubbed dry, Emily rolled down the window again. The girl poked her head through the window, arms dangling in lazily and perky breasts at eye level for Emily. She snapped her head away and began digging through her purse with shaky fingers, hoping to scrounge up the money. Three dollars. Three measly dollars. She lived in a four-hundred-thousand-dollar house, and she couldn't find three bucks?
In the end, all she could manage to find was a crumpled ten-dollar bill. She offered it to the blonde, who took it hesitantly.
"Th- there, just…" Emily swallowed, stuffing the money more into the girl's palm. "… keep the change, okay?"
Then she peeled out of the parking lot, every nerve in her body tingling as thoughts of the girl swarmed her mind. The girl with the sun-kissed shoulders and the healthy blush in her cheeks. The girl reaching up to glide the soaked sponge over the car's hood. The girl with the eyes accentuated with waterproof mascara, with the eyes that glimmered like pebbles in a sunlit creek. The girl with the confused smile on her face as she clutched Emily's ten-dollar bill in her slim fingers. The girl with the blondest hair Emily had ever seen.
She pulled back into the house's driveway, stepping out of the car with legs like jelly. It was as if her kneecaps had disappeared completely. She was ready to cave in on herself. There was a hazy filter over her vision as she circled around the Volvo to the front door. She didn't even ask for the girl's name. In four days, she was graduating high school, and she would never see this girl again.
Or maybe not. Emily froze like a statue, her nerves suddenly fizzing out like a cheap sparkler. She gazed at the rear window of her car and felt a smile stretch her elastic cheeks.
Written in white chalk marker with hasty letters and a few smudges were two things.
Jess.
Underneath that was a phone number.