Chapter 20

January 8th, 2005

I waited patiently at the pickup counter as the three baristas scrambled with the orders, keeping my eyes on one of them in particular. A sly grin slipped to my face as she finished making my drink.

"Grande Vanilla latte extra whip for…"

The barista paused and squinted at the name on the cup.

"The… cutest… girl in the house…"

Emerald looked up at me, her lips pursed.

"Really, Weiss?"

I nodded, grinning.

"Uh huh."

"You're gonna make me do that every time, huh."

"Damn right I am."

Em let out a sigh. One of those long, drawn-out sighs that has a hint of growl to it, the kind usually reserved for absolute abject rejection. I mean, to be fair, that was pretty much common for her. She set my drink down on the counter and circled around, untying her green apron and pulling off her matching brown baseball hat.

"The hell are you doin' here, other than making my life difficult."

"I'm pickin' you up, hot stuff. What's it look like?"

She furrowed for a second.

"Where's your sister?"

"I came by myself in the blue truck."

"Oh, what, you got your G2?"

I nodded, gleefully.

"Yesssss, ma'am! Got it back in December. I can drive all by myself now."

"Huh. Well, alright, I could just call my dad, but I 'spose you'll do."

"What do you mean, 'you'll do'?!"

"My standards are a lot higher nowadays. You gotta do better than short and skinny, babe."

I smacked her in the arm.

"Oh, please, we both know I'm exactly your type."

For a change, she smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme a minute to go hang up my apron and get my coat."

"Take your time." I mused.

I took a sip of my coffee. It was a new taste, I'd never had vanilla flavoured coffee before. The barista on cash had suggested it, and not wanting to sound like the kind of snob who only drinks expensive imported tea, even though that's exactly what I am, I went ahead and ordered the latte instead. It was good, I'm serious. Very thick, though, much more foamy milk than I was expecting. But I mean, you know what they say about making a latte, you take a regular coffee, replace half of it with milk and then add seven dollars to the price. But I was used to Starbucks's inflated prices. Second Cup was arguably better, and Tim's was my body and soul, but Emmy didn't work at either of those places. Speaking of, she came back into my view around the corner, sporting a rather gorgeous double-breasted grey peacoat.

"Kay, I'm ready."

"Wow, I'm in love with your coat."

"Thanks. It was a Christmas present."

I frumped. "You don't celebrate Christmas."

"No, but… it's a good day to receive presents. And my dad was home for once, and you know, you wake up on the twenty-fifth of December, and your dad hands you a wrapped box and says 'here's a gift, you earned it', it's perfectly acceptable."

"It's beautiful."

"It's Isabel Marant. From Paris."

I reached out to touch it. The light grey wool was very rough to the touch, but incredibly thick.

"I want one. But I know I can't afford it."

"That's okay, me neither. But here I am."

"Your dad is stupid rich."

"Yeah. Airline pilot. Makes a lot of money."

"Damn. It looks really good on you, though."

"Thanks, Weiss."

I nodded.

"Let's bounce."

"After you."

I pushed out of the store, coffee in hand and well dressed best friend in tow. The crisp January air stung through me, since I did not have a thirteen hundred dollar coat on, and we crossed the narrow parking lot to the crumpy blue truck I had borrowed for the day. It was too old and basic to have central locking and a fancy button key fob, so I had to unlock it with a damn key, my fingers freezing against the cold metal. I clambered in, and leaned waaaay across the front bench seat to unlock the passenger door to let Emmy in. I personally would have bought a smaller truck, but since my sister is six foot too many, she wanted something she could fit her eight-mile-long legs in.

"Alright," I mused, fiddling with my seat belt. "Back to yours, then?"

"Make it so, Number One."

I scoffed and cranked the truck to life.

"Since when do you watch Star Trek?"

"My dad watches Star Trek. I just happen to be in the room a lot of the time."

"RIght, sure. Nerd."

"Nuh uh."

I chuckled and flexed my body around to see out the back window. I have to say, since I was so small, it really felt precarious to be trying to reverse such a massive automobile in such a miniscule parking lot. But you know, I got it out. No scratches, no funky noises, nothing. I'm good like that. The truck dinged at me.

"What was that?"

I shrugged.

"I 'unno. It's an old truck." I looked down at the gauges. "...without any fuel in it."

Em chuckled as I pulled out into traffic, remembering to use my blinker and give plenty of space around me.

"Sounds like your problem."

"Ahh, I'll fill up on my way home. It's not pertinent."

"Are we gonna run out?"

"If we do, sucks."

"Wow, rude." Em crossed her arms and played with the glove box with her foot. It opened, and my collection of CDs spilled out onto the floor. "What's this?"

"Uh, it's Nena. I think. Which one have you got?"

"Uh, it says… ninety-nine… luft… balloons?"

"Oh yeah, that's her first album. Got that at Legend before the break, man. They wanted like two dollars for it. Had to have it."

Em flipped it over to read the back. Which, of course, she was unable to.

"Oh, is this that one song that comes on sometimes that's completely in German?"

"Yeah, it's about the Cold War."

"Ugh, I hate that song."

"That's fine. You like Du Hast, so we can still be friends."

"Sometimes I forget that you can speak German."

"I was born in Hamburg." I quipped, musically. "I don't remember, can you see if the Scorpions are in that pile?"

She grabbed the loose CD cases and flipped through them.

"Uh, you got two of them here. Crazy World and Still Loving You."

I chuckled to myself.

"Crazy World has that other song about the Cold War on it."

"Why the fuck d'you got so much Cold War music?"

I shrugged.

"I was born in Germany, I tend to favour German music, and for, what, like forty-five years there was this global bilateral conflict involving Germany that may have had a slight impact on the… cultural landscape of the people living there."

"Okay, that's fair."

"Remember, West Germany is the good guys. Or, was. It's just one country now."

"Yeah, I'm aware, I pay attention in Mr. Sharp's class."

I relented.

"I'm just sayin'. You do know someone who was born on the right side of the Iron Curtain."

"Yeah, and I was born in England, under the rule of a tyrannical dictator."

I laughed.

"You mean Margaret Thatcher?"

"Yeah, what didn't you understand about that?"

"I don't think she was a dictator, Em."

Even though I was watching the road, I could feel her raise her eyebrows at me. Those beautifully sculpted chocolate-brown eyebrows.

"Alright, whatever you wanna believe."

"I'm from Germany, I think I understand what a dictator is."

She broke a small smile.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Say, you uh, you remember to bring your PJs?"

"Yeah, they're in my bag."

"Did you bring the popcorn?"

I nodded. "Yeah, there's a new box back there. Orville Redenbacher, just like you asked."

"Good. 'Cause, I forgot to buy some."

"Oh, jeez. Did you remember to organize dinner?"

"Yeah, mom left some cash for us, so she said. We'll order in."

"Okay. Chinese?"

"I'm feelin' like Chinese today. I could go for some fried rice and some soup. I absolutely destroyed myself with chicken curry yesterday because apparently there's a difference between 'following the recipe' and 'throwing half a box of curry powder into the pot'."

"I feel bad for your lower digestive."

"Eh, my dad said he liked it, and he hasn't shown any signs contrary to this, so I'll say I added exactly the right amount of spice. For him. Turns out I can't handle spice like I thought I could."

"Maybe it's because he's a pilot."

She looked at me sideways, making a face..

"What does that have to do with it?"

"See, here's the deal with airline food," I joke, raising a finger and receiving a dramatic eye roll in response. "See, the dry, low pressure air inside airplane cabins suppresses the sense of smell, and represses the ability to taste sweet and salty foods."

"Okay, now who's the nerd?"

I made my favourite pouty face.

"Shut up."

/… /

Em chewed on a bobby pin and leaned against the window.

"I'm impressed you made it through the snowbank."

I chuffed, crossing my legs and bouncing on her comforter.

"Four wheel drive, baby. It's not like your dad was gonna get the Mercedes through it, it was two feet thick!"

"Yeah, they don't plow our road very often. We get really high banks which I then have to clear 'cause my dad's always away."

I shoved another forkful of egg fried rice into my face.

"Yeah, but you work out, I'm sure you can lift it."

Em sipped the remains of her wonton soup from the bowl.

"Oh, I'm not upset about the weight of the snow, I'm upset that they don't plow the goddamn street, which means I have to lift the snow. And how do you know I work out?"

"Jaune told me."

"That bastard knows too much. He has to die."

"Aw, c'mon, he's not that bad. He mentioned it in passing. Don't give him hell."

"I absolutely will. Do you think me some kind of person who lets bygones be bygones?"

I laughed.

"Of course not. Just don't kill him, I'll eventually need him."

"I know, I'm just yanking your chain." she put down her bowl. "Say, speaking of chain-yanking, I got a rowing machine for 'Not Christmas', and oh my god is it slowly pulling my back apart."

"Man, you are really up on this fitness kick."

"I have to be. To be a pilot you have to be able to fly a plane with no hydraulic assist on anything. And you don't want to not have the muscular ability to pull out of a nose dive in a dire situation."

I gawked.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Well, let me put it like this. Let's say you're flying in a…" she looked to her desk, and grabbed a model plane off it. "...Twin Bonanza. And you're in a nose dive. This plane weighs just the skinny side of three tonnes, fuelled and loaded. You've suffered a flame-out on both engines, and you've got no hydraulic assist. You're flying dead stick."

"Uh huh." I nodded, pretending to know what any of that meant.

"So, the plane rotates around… here-ish, just behind the lift plane of the wings, and you've now got to rotate a three-tonne plane around its axis as it is falling out of the sky. You're gonna need a bit of upper arm strength when you plant your feet against the firewall and try to pull that yolk back."

"Right, duh."

"Of course, a small plane like a Twin Bonanza would be very easy to dead stick, compared to, say, a 747. But a big commercial plane like that doesn't have a cable backup on its control surfaces, so if it loses all of its hydraulic pressure, it falls out of the sky like a four hundred tonne rock. But in the case where it does still have functioning control surfaces, you then have to wrestle four hundred tonnes of airplane through the sky. And that will require a little bit of strength."

"Of course it would." I continued to feign understanding.

"Also, having good cardio helps with the thin, crappy air you have to breath at thirty thousand feet."

I had some more of my chicken and rice. "I thought planes had… pressurized… insides?"

"Yeah, cabin pressurization is a thing, but I meant more for planes like the Twin Bonanza or a One-Seventy-Two, or a Piper Cherokee. Little planes that fly high enough to feel the difference in pressure."

"Oh. Okay."

She shrugged and set the model back down on her desk.

"I mean, it's also good just to stay fit. Heart health and all that."

"Aren't you way too young to be worried about your heart health?"

"You're never too young to worry about health. I like to stay active. Makes me happy."

I suppose that was also a good reason.

"Whatever you say, Em."

"Yeah." she paused, pulling her knees up to her chest. "You know, my dad said he's gonna start teaching me to fly this summer."

I perked up.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, he's gonna help me find a good flight school to go to."

"That's cool. Where did he learn to fly?"

"With the Air Force in Iran. He told me not to join the Air Force, that that wasn't a good use of my time."

"It's not?"

"No, it's like ten years of service, and I don't wanna be a fighter pilot. I mean, it would be cool to fly the CF-18 once, but I don't want it to be my job."

I put my empty plate down and brushed off my lap.

"So… instead of the Air Force, what are you going to do?"

"Learn to fly a plane the old fashioned way, by being in a plane for fifteen hundred hours. Then I'm gonna get my instrument rating, apply for my IFR, do all the necessary steps, then go be a pilot. Simple."

"Doesn't sound very simple to me."

"It's not." she sighed. "But that's what I gotta look forward to. He said he was gonna take some time off and take me up in his One-Fifty-Two. Obviously not now, cause it's snowing and he has to go back to work next week. But in the summer."

"That sounds like a lot of fun."

"I certainly hope so. I mean, it's gonna suck if I find out that I have a fear of heights or something."

I snorted into my drink, trying not to choke. She snorted as well, cracking a smile.

"Don't laugh at me, bitch."

"Don't make me fuckin' choke on my drink."

She laughed at me. Some best friend she was.

"Hey, you know what we should do right now?"

"Whassat?" I asked, wiping the purple Crush off my chin.

"We should go sit in the hot tub."

I frowned, wide-eyed.

"Since when do you have a hot tub?!"

"Since just before Not Christmas. My mom was complaining about all the time she spent on her feet at work, so my dad bought her one. He won't tell me how much it was, but I found the brochure in the garage. From what I can tell it's the second most expensive one."

I gawked.

"We gotta hang out at your house more often. My apartment does not have a hot tub."

"It's got a pool in the summertime, though."

"Yeah, I would not go in that pool, even if you paid me."

Em shrugged.

"Well, you can go in my hot tub."

"I didn't bring a bathing suit, though."

"That's fine, I'm sure I have one that fits you."

I scoffed.

"Pfft, no you don't."

"I mean, probably." she sprung off the bed. "I was your height and bust once."

"Yeah, when you were twelve."

She nodded, not even trying to make me feel less short.

"Yeah. That's what I'm looking for."

"Asshole."

She ignored me and dug into the bottom drawer of her dresser, rifling through a rather unnervingly large collection of swimsuits that I was unaware she even owned. I was then hit in the chest by some cloth, which fell into my hands. I held it up. It wasn't even the Pratt and Whitney logo across the chest that got me the most about this.

"When did you even have a chance to wear this?" I questioned.

She pulled out another one from the drawer and kicked it closed.

"I used to go swimming a lot as a kid. When you're a kid, it doesn't really matter what you wear. When you become an adult, then you start wearing less… show-offy stuff."

"That's not at all how you dress now, Emerald."

She was very much a show-offy person. Which I liked.

"Okay, fair. But, you know, don't say anything. If you ever meet my extended family, don't mention this drawer. I'm a good girl, I promise."

"But… wearing bikinis doesn't make you… a bad person. Does it?"

"Well, no… but actually yes. In some cultures. Namely, mine."

"Actually, that brings up another good point, what about the whole modesty thing and owning a hot tub?"

She winked at me.

"You'll see. I'll go change in the bathroom, you can change here. My robe's just inside the closet, you can snag that."

"O-okay."

She left, closing the door softly behind her. I was still having difficulty wrapping my head around the whole 'Emerald has a hot tub' thing, but I decided it was in my best interest to just amuse myself and go along with her silly ideas anyway. I mean, it wasn't going to do me any harm, her parents weren't home, and it's not like her cat was gonna be judging me for this. I mean, Stripes was a nice cat, but I mean he could be judging me, I don't know. I don't speak 'meow'.

So as it turns out, the swimsuit on offer was indeed from when she was twelve. It was very high-necked, and even though it was two-piece, there wasn't a lot of gap over my stomach. Now, I understand that Em was a little bit taller than me, even then, so maybe the suit would have fit her better. But what really kind of offended me about this outfit was that both the top and bottom had a frilly, pleated ring around them, which made it look to me like I was wearing two skirts, one around my hips and one around my chest. Kinda silly, and very juvenile. I wasn't going to complain out loud, mind you. Emerald came back in the room just as I was slinging her Air Canada branded bathrobe around myself.

"Oh good, you're ready. Comfy?"

I shrugged.

"I guess so. I-"

I was cut off, by myself. As I turned around, I noticed she had the front of her bathrobe opened up, showing off a not exactly culturally appropriate navy green bikini on, complete, of course, with the Winged Globe of Wright Aeronautical logo sewn onto her left boob. My eyes were drawn quickly down to a very chiseled and very flat stomach. I went a little cross-eyed as my mouth hung open.

"Yeah?"

"Oh my god, you could scrub laundry on those."

She looked down to where my eyes were pointing, and smirked.

"Yeah, a hundred situps a day for nearly a year will do that to you. Fifty in the morning, fifty at night. Part of my routine, see there?"

She pointed behind me to a whiteboard, nestled between two posters of world war two airplanes. It had a fairly rigorous workout program scrawled on it in her messy, no-cares handwriting. It included pushups, lunges, dumbbell working, burpees, and of course, the aforementioned situps, with little check boxes beside each one. So far, it showed that she had only completed half of the list, and I assumed she would finish the rest before bed. I looked back to her, a little disappointed that she had tied up her robe.

"Yeah, that would kill me."

"Of course it would, you've never done it before. You gotta start small. Fifteen a day, not a hundred. Or ten, if you're particularly muscularly challenged."

I rolled my eyes and stood up off the bed.

"Bite me."

"With pleasure. C'mon, we've got important things to do."

I begrudgingly followed her out of her room. For me, 'begrudgingly' in this case meant 'with baited anticipation', because as much as much as I would consider myself probably a heterosexual, any opportunity I had to see an attractive woman in a bikini, most especially Emerald, I was going to take. I followed her down the stairs, careful not to step on Stripes, who was napping in the middle of the damn staircase, and since he was a brown cat on a brown stair, he was nearly flattened. As we passed into the kitchen, I was able to notice perhaps the answer to one of my questions from earlier.

"What's with the gazebo?"

"Ah, so you've noticed." she pointed, coyly. She unlocked the back door and swung it open. "This is where we hide the hot tub."

"Doesn't it get awfully steamy?"

"C'mon. I'll show you."

The five steps out on her back deck were frozen since nobody had bothered to shovel a path from the back door to the gazebo, and I ended up standing in shin-deep snow for a few moments as Em fought with the zipper on the front flaps on the little structure. She did get it open, after a moment, and pulled it aside to usher me in.

"Ladies first."

"Thanks." I responded automatically, completely missing what she had just said.

"Plug in that cord there."

I saw where she was pointing and grabbed the orange extension cord, plugging it in to the little plug hanging from the ceiling. A pair of light strings lit up around the perimeter of the wide canvas ceiling, illuminating a large brown tub in the centre of the gazebo, covered in a huge fabric lid.

"Ooh, I like the lights."

"Yeah, they're great. Old-school incandescent."

"So why is it in a gazebo?"

She chuckled and reached for the lid, peeling it back to reveal the top of the water.

"Well, since you were right earlier, this isn't exactly the model of modesty, my dad figured it would be acceptable to hide it away in a fully-curtained gazebo. That way, when my mom wants to relax, she doesn't have to worry about the wandering eyes of our neighbours. Besides, Islam aside, do you really want anyone watching you while you enjoy the hot tub?"

"I guess not."

"Exactly. Now get in, I'll turn it on."

"If you insist."

I peeled off my robe slowly, ignoring the chill, and folded it neatly onto a nearby chair. I had to climb up the plastic steps on the side of the tub to step in, gritting my teeth as the very hot water clung to my freezing ankles and shins. The bubbles started to swirl around me, and some rather colourful lights started to glow under the water.

"Hoooo-my that's hot."

"Hundred and three degrees. Nice and toasty."

Em shed her rode as well, showing off her suspiciously well-toned body to me again, and climbed up the stairs on the side of the tub. She reached way up to the middle of the ceiling and switched on a large black device I hadn't noticed was installed right over the middle of the tub.

"What's that?"

"Box fan. We installed it with zip ties so it vents out the steam. First night we had the tub it got really hard to breath in here with the curtains closed."

"That's really smart."

"Sometimes I am that." she winked, slowly lowering herself into the water as well, sinking down to her chin. "Not often, but sometimes. Ah, this is good."

"This is very good. I approve of your idea to do this."

"Cheers, babe."

I chuckled, noticing how the bubbles were pooling around me and beating into my lower back underwater. Em seemed to be somehow sinking lower and lower into the water, despite being much taller than me.

"How the hell are you so deep over there?"

"This is my dad's spot. It's like an underwater lounge seat. I never get to sit in this spot."

"I'd probably drown in that spot."

"Wouldn't doubt it. You need to get taller."

I pouted, sinking my shoulders down.

"I've been this tall for two years. Probably not gonna get any taller."

"Good." She chuckled. "I prefer you this height. You're a good armrest."

"Rude."

"Your opinion."

We chuckled together, enjoying the serenity and steamy comfort of the tub for a few moments more. Emmy kept adjusting her seating position, as she was clearly far too buoyant to be almost lying down in the water. Not surprising, with the size of the life preservers growing out of her ribcage, honestly. I watched her struggle for a few moments more before giving up and scooting to a slightly higher seat.

"That better?"

"I kept floating. Poor design."

"And you were excited to sit in your dad's seat."

"I can change my mind about stuff."

I scoffed, receiving a splash in the face. The audacity of some people! Emmy leaned her head back against the edge of the tub and closed her eyes, relaxing. I tried to do the same, but again, very short. See, from experience, these were usually the times Emerald would like to pounce on me with left-field questions. And so she did.

"So have you and Jaune kissed yet?"

I coughed and slipped off my seat, falling briefly underwater. I surfaced, spitting water and wiping my face.

"What the fuck, Emerald! No!"

"That's a shame."

"He's not even my boyfriend!"

"Have you even kissed anybody yet?"

"Yeah." I lied. Emmy opened one accusatory eye. I pouted. "No."

"I mean, I could come over there and we could change that now."

I flushed a deep red. She puckered her lips in my direction.

"Uhh…"

"Jeez, I'm kidding" She laughed at me. "Or am I?"

I scooted as far away from her as I could in the tub.

"Stop teasing me. You're so mean!"

Emmy stuck her tongue out at me, grinning like some kind of villain. It's a wonder I ever put up with her. She sighed and put her hands behind her head.

"So's your guidance counselor given you any guidance lately?" she asked, cutting the silence and calming the mood.

I shrugged. "Not really. He thinks I ought to be applying to more local universities, like Carleton and OttawaU. Or like, Cegep or something."

"Where've you applied?"

"Toronto, McGill, University of Vancouver."

She chuckled.

"Damn, you must hate this place."

"Well, other than you and Jaune, I don't really like this city. There's not much to do."

"Oh, so I'm something for you to do in this city?"

I flushed. Again.

"Emerald, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah."

I crossed my arms and tried to be frumpy. It wasn't effective.

"So where's your counselor recommending?"

"I explained to him very carefully my intentions for post-secondary. He said since my grades were so high, I should instead be considering something like engineering or some kind of science degree. And I calmly replied with 'pilot'."

"You don't want a degree?"

"I mean, I do eventually need one, says Air Canada, they want their pilots to at least have a bachelors in something. So I figure, I learn to fly, take my IFR, and all that class learning. Then, since I need fifteen hundred hours of seat time, which in my head will take me four years, take a degree program and get both my hours and my bachelors in, I dunno, women's studies or something."

"Does your dad have a degree?"

"Yeah, communications technology."

"Where from?"

"University of Tehran."

"Oh yeah."

She sniffled and readjusted, sitting upright.

"Everything will happen in time."

"Good to know you have a plan. I certainly don't yet."

"You will, I believe in you."

I smiled and let myself relax deeper into the tub, accidentally brushing my toes against Em's under the bubbly surface. I heard her sigh, drawing my attention over. Her smile had flattened out.

"Something the matter?" I queried.

She looked around, idly.

"Not really."

"Oh. Alright."

"I mean…"

I paused, and waited. There seemed to be something on her mind. And it seemed to be eating her. I had noticed since we I had showed up at her job that she'd been a little distracted. And it was bothering me a little, too. I heard her sigh again.

"Can I tell you a story, Weiss?"

Uh oh. She didn't usually use my name unless it was serious.

"Um, sure."

"It's a sad story, though."

"I don't mind."

She nodded and leaned back, slinging her arm over the side of the tub.

"Okay. One caveat here is that you do not tell anybody anything I'm about to say. Not your sister, and not Jaune. Especially not Jaune."

"Why not him?"

"Because I said so. And I get to choose who hears this story. That's sorta what it's about, too." she gestured to herself with her thumb. "Me choosing what happens to me."

I held up my right hand, palm out.

"I won't tell."

"Kay, good." She paused with another sigh. It was a long pause. "D'you remember… back like a year ago, when I broke up with Ryan?"

I frowned.

"Yes?"

She nodded slowly.

"Did I ever tell you why?"

"You said 'cause he was immature, right?"

Her lips pursed, her face scrunching up a little.

"Yeah, that's… more or less accurate, I guess. And I suppose you ought to know exactly what happened."

"I ought to?"

"You do." she swallowed, her face tightening. "It's time I come clean. It's bullshit to hide stuff from you, and I want you to know in advance that I'm sorry."

I didn't exactly understand the reason for the brusque sincerity, but I was more than willing to listen.

"Tell me what happened."

She sighed. "Ryan and I were… pretty close, you could say. Our relationship had exceeded the puppy love stage that most early high school relationships fall under and had become something… more serious."

"You mean-"

"We had sex, yes. I'll admit that I probably wasn't ready yet, but hey, I was young and impressionable, right? I had a boyfriend I considered 'serious' and we'd been together for a while, long enough that I guess I considered it was the right time for it."

I sniffled.

"Was it?"

"No, I don't think so. Fuck's sake, I was fourteen, what did I know about myself. But there I was, new boyfriend and wanting to… fuck, I don't know, maybe 'become a woman' or some stupid shit, and so when asked 'do you want to have sex', I said yes because I didn't know any different, right?"

"I… guess?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, really." she shook her head. "Now, I'm not going to say I regret it, it's too late for regret now, but you understand that I think it wasn't a good idea for me back then."

I nodded. Emmy sighed again, and continued.

"So as it happens when children are put in charge of each other's bodies, things a lot of the time can go amiss. And so they did. I got pregnant."

My heart sank.

"You did?"

"Yeah, right around your birthday last year, actually. Remember I was sick?"

"I… remember."

She smiled, but without any joy.

"Yeah. That happened. The next part of this story is where it gets a little more intense, just so you know."

"I can handle it." I lied. I was on the verge of tears, but the steam in the gazebo was hiding it.

"As soon as I found out, I made a decision to stop being a child. I was damn sure that in that moment, I was going to grow up and face the world like an adult. So I made a choice. Some people will argue that I made the wrong one, but I will wholeheartedly say I made the right one."

She puffed her chest out and sat up straight.

"I chose me."

"O-oh."

"I chose my own future and my own importance over an amalgamation of cells suspended in fluid that would most certainly stunt my development and my future. I also found out that Ryan was extraordinarily opposed to my choice, Weiss."

"What did he say?"

"He called me a murderer. Said I was ending a human life, how could I do that?"

"Fuck, that's not fair."

"It's not. I told him that. I told him that my life was more important. My life was far more important. I'm going to have a future, and I'm going to live my way, and if he doesn't like that, he can fuck right off."

"And that's when you broke up."

"And that's when we broke up, yes. So I went to my mom, immediately, and she told me she wasn't disappointed or mad or anything, and we went to the clinic downtown. They checked me out and said they could book an appointment two weeks later to have the cells removed and my life returned to normal. I had chosen me, and I was more than pleased to do so. Everything was coming up Emerald, right?"

I frowned.

"I'm going to guess not."

"Yeah, you'd be right about that. Cue two weeks of morning sickness and having to hide that shit from my best friends, which was already killing me that I couldn't talk to you about it. But my appointment came around, and my dad drove me to it-"

"Wait, you told your dad?"

"Yes, I told him. I trust my father to know everything about my life. He wasn't disappointed either. He said we're all just human, we all do things we regret. It helps us grow. Which was not a lecture I ever expected to receive from my muslim dad, but hey, I got it over with and he's still my dad, so that's good."

"Oh, phew, eh?"

"Yeah, a little nerve racking telling him that. Anyway, as usual, there was a protest outside the clinic, because some people, like Ryan, have nothing better to do with their time than accuse poor unfortunate souls that they're murderers. We go inside, and they take my name, my weight, my height, the usual. I get corralled into a room where they run some more tests, do an ultrasound, more bullshit. At this point, I'm tired, and sick, and done with all this, I just want to be finished and go home. That's when I noticed the gyno nurse frowning at my chart and then leaving the room."

She leaned back again and put her head against the tub.

"So I'm alone now, in a paper onesie, in a room with this chair that looks like a piece of S&M equipment, for like, an hour before someone else comes back in the room. A doctor. He says to me 'ma'am we have some rather peculiar news, you've actually miscarried. The fetus was misplaced, and will have to be removed."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah, at this point, my entire body fuckin' explodes with this misplaced joy. I'm absolutely thrilled to hear this news, which makes the doctor kind of confused. For me, this is the best news I've heard all day, because even though I didn't believe it anyways, it means in the eyes of the radical morons, I'm not a murderer anymore. Fuck's sake, it just wasn't meant to be! Hurray!"

I was shaking at this point.

"I get the feeling this isn't the end of that."

"No it is not. So I get ambulanced to a hospital, and the process happens, and then I walk out of there like seven hours later free as a bird. I'm thinking 'clean and clear', and my life can go on as planned. I never have to speak to Ryan again, and for the time being, I can check out of the dating scene and focus on being me again. 'Course, that was until I got home and told my mom about this."

"Wh-what happened with her?"

Emerald turned away for a second, biting her lip.

"She started crying a little. She pulled me aside and sat me down. Did you know I was supposed to be one of seven?"

I blinked.

"What? But you're an only child?"

"Yeah. Apparently it's a thing in my family, on my mother's side. There's a history of miscarriages and lost children. She cried because that had just started to happen to me. There's a very strong possibility that it will happen again, and happen when I don't want it to. Now, I know that Jaune told you about when he came to help me with my baby cousins, and I'll therefore assume you heard about my freakout?"

"I did."

"I was upset because I was still in the mindset that I was never going to be able to have children. I've… mostly gotten over that, with how much I exercise to distract myself, how much I read. Mostly it's to… try and mitigate how bad I feel about it now."

"Oh."

I was silent for a second. I think this was just about the most sorrowful I had ever felt for another person. Poor Emerald had had such a bad experience with the whole thing, I didn't even know where to begin to make her feel better. I was woefully unprepared for this whole ordeal, so I just sat there with my hands between my knees, trying not to make eye contact.

"At this point, it's just bygones, man. Nothing I can really do. I had to grow up. I didn't have a choice for that. I may not be able to have children, ever. That's just something I have to live with now."

She shrugged.

"I'm…. I dunno anymore, Weiss. I suppose this is the kind of shit I was supposed to deal with. Here I am, delusions of grandeur, right. Like the universe wanted to knock me down a peg. RIght on down back to reality. But that's a disastrous way of thinking about the world."

"It is, kinda…"

"So I've made another choice. My life will not be defined by a series of misfortunes, but instead by the shit that I control. I'm gonna grow up, I'm gonna do what I want, I'm gonna become a pilot, and I'm gonna be okay. You understand?"

I definitely did not understand. But I was determined to be supportive.

"I think so?"

"You don't have to, don't worry."

I shivered.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, please, don't apologize. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for springing this shit on you like this. Like, 'hey, come to my house, take all your clothes off, and let me tell you a story about how I had a fuckin' miscarriage', right? No, I don't mean for you to feel bad for me, Weiss."

She sighed for a second, before scooting closer in the tub. I let her, not wanting to be that asshole who runs away when someone tells them a deep secret. She slid up next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. It was a surprisingly long arm.

"Life goes on, right? Sorry for being a buzzkill and doing this to you. But thanks for listening."

"Well, of course I'm going to listen."

"I 'unno, you coulda walked out on me."

I chuckled, dryly.

"That wouldn't have been polite."

"Since when are either of us about being fuckin' polite?"

I tried out her defeated sigh for myself, and lay my head into the crook of her neck.

"Yeah. Still. I'm sorry you felt you had to go through that alone."

"It's okay. I think I'm a better person because of it."

"Probably. I understand why you don't want me telling Jaune about this, though."

"No, he'd beat Ryan's fuckin' teeth in."

I shrugged.

"I dunno, seems like he kinda deserves it."

"Yeah. Deserves it or not, it's unnecessary violence. Keep this all between us, eh?"

"But what do I do if I see him in the hall?"

"Same as always. Just brush him off like always. He's not important. I'm important."

I smiled.

"That you are."

It was quiet for a moment. The pool pump had shut off after its timer expired, and we were left alone under the quiet din of the extractor fan whirring away overhead. I could feel her rather slow, cardio-trained heart rhythm in my ear even over my own arrhythmatic nervous one. I didn't understand how she was able to remain so composed. Perhaps that's what separated us as people.

Now, I'm not going to lie and tell you that this whole ordeal didn't immediately change my opinion of her. Of course it did. But not the way you might imagine. Before all this, Emmy was in my eyes a bit of a cynic, very made up, very much someone who put on a face of anger and aggression as some kind of complicated charade. I understand now why she did that. It was to hide a bottomless pit of sorrow caused by something that had happened out of her control. But now, I was starting to notice how she had changed in the last year. She had grown up. She had matured faster than any of us. I looked at her differently because she was a completely different person. She was so much stronger and smarter and better than I was at that age in every measurable way. She was so centered. So grounded. It was beautiful.

In that moment of quiet, I knew it would take me a lifetime to mature like she had. I was still a child, but she wasn't. She was my hero.

Of course, our cute little moment was interrupted by the sound of the back door sliding open. I of course panicked and and slid away from Emerald with a loud splash. Her dad's deep, accented voice came through it from somewhere outside the closed up gazebo.

"My gem, you are out here?"

Em chuckled, leaning over the edge of the tub towards her house.

"Yes, baba, we're out here."

"Oh, lovely. Are you and Weiss having a good time?"

She turned to me.

"Are we?"

I nodded. "I think so."

She turned back.

"She says yes, baba."

"Perfect. There's hot chocolate inside I can make for you if you like."

"I think we like very much. We'll be in in a moment."

The door slid shut, leaving us quiet again. Emmy glanced over and me, and once again wiggled those beautiful eyebrows at me.

"Shall we?"

I shrugged.

"Guess so."

So we did. Myself and the woman with the impenetrable will went inside for hot chocolate.

It was a good day.