The Daddy's have been very sweet to let Emily stay with us. Emily and I agreed it would be for the best if she and Rachel shared a room. I don't want to fall back into our old habits of just fucking to forget things. It's also funny to watch her and Rachel interact. Emily's usually quiet but will laugh when Rachel makes her stupid jokes. Most people don't do that or they treat Rachel like a leper. Emily and I do share the bathroom when we brush our teeth. It's my favorite part of the day. She gets messy with her toothpaste froth and looks adorable.
On Christmas Eve Rachel insists we go caroling and Emily and I look at each other with the same thought 'no way.' After much coaxing, Ems and I are dressed in Victorian age costumes that Rachel just happened to rent for the holiday season in our exact sizes. There are some senior citizens along with us and a gay boy or two from Rachel's community theater. Emily mouths the words while I just stand, no desire to even pretend that I am going to sing. After a few blocks of Deck the Halls and Come All Ye Faithful everyone grows tired. Rachel cuts through everyone's grumblings and insist we sing at one more location.
We trudge up to a familiar neighborhood and it dawns on me who we are going to sing to. I look at Emily and she smiles, knowing Barbie is in for a real treat. We stop in front of the apartment building and Rachel stands in front. I can see her clear her throat, looking nervous as though she has never sung before. Emily helps her by starting "Silent Night" and the rest of the troops join in. Even in her stupid bonnet, Emily is gorgeous and understands the meaning of grand romantic gestures. I haven't done many of those for her. Grand romantic gestures, I never have had to before. Maybe she's waiting for one? Another disappointment.
The apartment building's rooms light up, some residents opening their windows to look outside, others have little kids out on their balconies singing along. I wave a little at some kids and oddly enough they wave back. I train my eyes on Rachel and she is only focused on one window. The lights have yet to come on. Rachel has explained to me that Barbie is a devout Christian and the holidays are important to her. She and Jesus used to be best friends, now they are trying to get to know one another again. Between Rachel and Jesus, I'd pick Rachel. Jesus didn't save Freds. Rachel would have at least tried to.
Rachel is now looking a little desperate as we get to the second verse of Silent Night. I hold her hand and actually start singing. Her eyes are welling up and I wish her undeserving bitch of a make out partner would come to the window. Come on Barbie. I can hear Emily sing louder and the rest of our group matches her volume. She knows what it's like to convince someone to love you. I even start to sing louder now.
Then princess Peach comes out on the balcony, a soft glow behind her coming from the apartment like she's the goddamn Virgin Mary. Even I have to admit, she's beautiful. Barbie's eyes have tears that are waiting to spill and to have Rachel do all of this just so they can be together on Christmas Eve is too much for me to handle. I look to Rachel and she has the biggest shit- eating grin on her face, hitting all the right notes when the song comes to sleep in heavenly peace. I don't know why, but I feel something I am pretty sure is close to jealousy. I want her to sing to me. I rip my eyes off of her and stop singing. Shit.
I can't be here anymore. I begin to walk away and hear footsteps follow me. I don't have to guess too long as to who they belong to. It makes me ill that I wish they belonged to someone else.
"Eff. Stop," Emily says. I turn around and she is wearing a green dress with a doily collar and a bonnet that makes her look like she's a dog in a cone at the vet's. She's still so radiant. Why am I always confused about who I'm supposed to love? Just pick someone and be done with it or don't love at all.
"Sorry. Just all that show of emotion is way too cheesy," I say. It isn't a lie, that just isn't why I had to get out of there. You have Emily Fitch in front of you. She's gorgeous, brilliant, adventurous and wants to be yours. Just take her.
"It's okay. My head kind of hurts from how heavy this bonnet is," she smiles as she unties the ridiculous headdress. Her red hair unfurls and looks messy just like right after we have sex. It makes me want to take her in my arms and fuse on to her. But I would just be doing it to forget about something. Only now it wouldn't be Freds. It would be this nagging feeling of wanting to be with the girl in the next room. How the hell did this happen?
"Ems, I don't know how to feel about us. I want you but-"
"What excuse do you have this time?" she says flatly and I do believe I am rubbing off on her.
"Look obviously I care about you. But that's not enough. You have a life and I'm trying to figure one out for myself. I don't want to hold you back until I figure out what it is I want for myself."
"What do you want for yourself?" That she asks it so directly catches me off guard. What is it that I want for myself? Usually it was just a handle of vodka and a party to dance at. Now I want Freds to be alive so I could let him go. So he could have a life. I want Emily to get everything she deserves, even if it means getting back together with Naomi. I want to feel good about myself again. I want the school year to end so I can go home. I want to make whatever I am feeling for Rachel go away. It's just a fluke. It doesn't mean anything. She doesn't mean anything.
"I want to fuck and forget everything." It's not the answer she is looking for and I can see her physically deflate. I know she wants me to tell her I love her. I do. I just don't think it will do any of us any good. She takes my hand and we walk to Rachel's in silence. Rachel's daddy's are out at a party but I put on music after I've locked my bedroom door. Emily and I disrobe. There is nothing sexy or lovely about this. Our back are turned to one another, letting our long ugly green dresses fall to the floor. Our underwear crumpled on top. We turn around to face one another.
I take her in with my eyes. Her jutting collarbone, the way her hips look like my fingerprints never left them, the swell of her breasts when she breathes. I have missed all of it the way I missed my stuffed giraffe. They both comfort me.
"Well? Get on with it," she says. She sounds like she's about to be shot execution style.
"You make it sound like rape," I try and joke. She doesn't bat an eye.
"I'm just doing what you want. Just like we've always done." I have made Emily Fitch a sad puppy to kick around. I feel so ashamed. I look to the ground and begin to cry. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're gorgeous and wonderful and I want you. I love you, but it isn't enough! I'm never going to be enough." I walk towards her and she doesn't move away. She lets my hands caress her face, rubbing my thumb across her cheekbone.
"Effy, it doesn't have to be forever for us. I just need to know that we meant something to each other. I need to know that it wasn't just fucking. I need to know,"
"That I love you."
"Do you?" Tell her. Tell her what she wants to hear. Tell her what you should have said.
"It isn't love if you have to share it with someone else." She nods in understanding.
"I love her too. But I will forget about her. One day. Maybe if we just keep going we can forget about both of them." She looks so desperate. I urgently kiss her and hear her whimper like she has so many times before. My thigh is deliciously close to her clit and she inches forward to feel some friction. I break away from her hazy eyes full of lust and walk to the bed. I lay down and she lies on top of me. Her breasts feel so wonderfully heavy against mine and I position my thigh in between her legs. She glides down my leg and begins to rub against me. Our tongues tangle wildly with wanton abandon, and it isn't too long before our skin is soaked in cum, sweat and tears.
I flip her over and kiss my way down to her dripping cunt. It's glossy, pink and begging for me to touch it. I look up at her. She is breathing in anticipation, her eyes are full of anticipation, hurt and lust.
"I will never tire of your pussy, Ems. It's delicious." I dive in, fucking her with my tongue, lapping at her juices, slurping up her clit and licking the familiar spots. Her yelps and writhing hips grinding into my face egg me on. She coos, she shrieks, she swears. She doesn't sing. I cry. My face buried in her so she won't see.
"Effy! Fuck…don't ever stop," she yells. I add my fingers and my tongue sweeps over her clit while I feel her tighten around me. Her fingers grab at my scalp and she pulls my hair only I love that it hurts. I feel something. Even if these aren't the legs I should be between. I quickly strip my fingers and tongue away and she looks at me with complete horror. I need her to know this before she comes.
"I don't deserve you. I love you so very much. But don't wait for me. Please, I beg you don't wait for me," I say and she nods hurriedly just wanting to come. I lower my head back down, blow on her clit while I insert my fingers again. She groans in appreciation. "Promise me." I softly demand. She gasps as my fingers curve upward knowing just how to make her come undone.
"I promise. I promise. I promise." I lap my tongue at her clit again and her back arches upward, her arms laid out as though she is on a crucifix. I drink in her juices, the best kind of offering anyone could give me. Merry Christmas, indeed.