Note: Some of you might want to know that Chris(Tina) is Tink.
Chapter 2
Throwing her keys on the table, Emma tiredly trails to the kitchen.
"Emms? You home?" Lily peeks out of the bedroom. She's already changed into her camouflage T-shirt and sweatpants. "I ordered us some Chinese takeout."
Emma automatically kisses her girlfriend on the cheek, fishes her phone out of her jeans pocket, and throws it on the table. Plopping herself onto the nearest chair she feels as if she was a shapeless jelly-like mass.
"What's wrong? Tough day?" when Lily approaches from behind and starts massaging her shoulders, Emma's heavy eyelids flutter shut.
"It's nothing, it's just... The mood is just kinda dull," mutters Swan enjoying the feeling of soft pressure upon her stiff muscles. Lily remains silent, just breathes noisily with concentration, so Emma clarifies knowing if she keeps the reason for her bad mood to herself, it means there is something to hide. "I've been to the town hall today."
"Have you been to see your bestie? " there's a hint of a strong interest in her girlfriend's voice.
"I went to see Regina, yes," corrects Emma, wincing internally at her choice of words. "Well, I can tell you it's gonna be fun. She's... a piece of work."
"Is she the bitchy one?" smirks Lily knowingly.
"More like nerdy than bitchy, I'd say, although... she is kinda bitchy in a way, yes," she shakes her head. "Okay, I'd better go have a shower," reluctantly moving away she gets on her feet heavily and heads to the bathroom, unbuttoning her shirt and sending it into the laundry basket. "Don't you dare eat it all up without me," she shouts over her shoulder and closes the bathroom door.
Lily says something back, giggling, but Emma has already turned the water on, and after ridding herself from the rest of the clothes, she lets the hot flow wash away the heaviness of the long day. Damn Regina Mills…with her damn reports and damn list of demands, three pages long. Why bother with all that when nobody will actually read it?! Which will be left forgotten in the archives until it's sent for recycling after the file expiration date. Nothing but a whim, a Regina Mills' way to keep her under her thumb. Gold, their former Mayor, didn't give a crap for that wastepaper. He was a practical man. Everyone knew about his scheming and fraud, but at least he wasn't so sickeningly anal retentive.
But here Regina Mills showed up, and the first thing she did was ruin her day and the fragile balance that finally settled in Emma's soul for the first time in ages. And treats her as if she, at the very least, had dismembered all her family.
Why did she burst into her life again? She left Storybrooke once, so why on Earth did she have to get back? Emma got over it. She made peace with the loss, with the fact that Regina wasn't part of her life anymore. And never would be. And yet, here she is, the embodiment of the bitterness Emma couldn't banish for such a long time.
And the most ridiculous and outrageous thing is the effect all of it still has on her. Why hasn't she managed to move on and live with the fact that even the most loved ones may go away, may become strangers? That it's just a part of life, something that should just be accepted?
Somewhere behind the door rings her mobile, and Emma lifts her head, feeling the drops flowing down her face and off her chin.
Soon the melody stops, and she hears Lily's muffled voice. It's probably someone both of them know, so she decided to pick up the phone. When Emma appears in the kitchen again with a towel wrapped around her body, Lily informs:
"Mary-Margaret's just called. She wants us to come over for the family dinner at seven. Said something about Kathryn coming in?" she adds with a shrug.
"Oh, yes, right," her sister with her fiancé is coming home this week from a long training tour in which she was promoting her new book. "Did she tell you to bring anything?" Emma takes her Chinese takeout from the counter and focuses her attention on the pair of chopsticks she is now trying to separate.
"Well, we always bring a bottle of wine. And she told me Regina Mills is going to be there as well."
Snap! With a loud crack the chopsticks are finally separated. Emma winces – but not because of the sharp sound, and she knows Lily gets it.
"Emma?"
"Huh?" Emma echoes, not looking up at her just in case.
"Why did Mary-Margaret ask Regina Mills over?" asks Lily, cautiously stepping closer. Emma shrugs and finally turns her face towards her girlfriend, leaning her thigh against the counter and pretending that she's extremely busy with her food.
"Mom was her first teacher. Regina was my classmate. And she's still friends with Kathryn – they used to play tennis on the weekends."
"I see," drawls her girlfriend, looking a little calmed down.
Mary Margaret is in her usual high spirits, feverishly bustling around the kitchen, giving orders to Kathryn, who is pouring marinade over the already golden-crusted chicken, and to David, who sets the table. Fred is in the living room, setting up a satellite dish – it started to act up after a recent thunderstorm. Setting the bottle of wine on the counter, Lily volunteers to cut vegetables for the salad, and Emma, after hovering around the crowded kitchen and finding nothing to do, slips out to help her father arrange napkins and discuss yesterday's Boston Red Sox vs. New York Yankees game. When it's almost seven o'clock, she goes up to her old bedroom – somehow, she knows, when Regina Mills rings the doorbell, she would be the one who gets to greet her. In her parents' minds, Regina is still associated with Emma, not Kathryn. No wonder – they were best friends, joined at the hip since elementary school. Who cares if they haven't spoken to each other for fifteen years. Mom still firmly believes that they keep in touch regularly and wish happy holidays as Regina and Kathryn do. Emma doesn't try to dissuade her because then she would have to explain why they don't do that and what had happened between them that scattered them apart. Emma doesn't want to talk about it. With anyone whatsoever. The only living soul she'd ever let into all of it was KJ, her best friend, and her Deputy.
It's strange to see this bedroom now and realize that she spent almost every exciting moment of her life here with Regina. At this very desk, they were writing a fake love letter to Billy Collins in seventh grade – he was rude to almost all the girls, but he was into Tiffany Sanders, the most popular girl in the class.
They were sitting cross-legged on this carpet, checking each other's test answers, their backs to the bed. In this same bed Regina slept when she was sleeping over (they couldn't have been more than thirteen at the time), and Emma's mother made a bed on the floor, but Regina talked her into sleeping together. Heads covered with a blanket, they shared secrets conspiratorially and made up scary stories.
And from this window, Emma had to shine a laser flashlight into her neighbor's glasses, when she lost a bet to Regina in a card game. They both got reamed for that one. Regina's mother had grounded her for a week, and since then Emma was thought to be a bad influence. And it was in this very room that she and Regina were there for each other as friends. For the last time.
The doorbell rings downstairs, and Emma startles. She wants to stay here, where in her memory she and Regina are still best of friends.
"Emma!" of course. Her mother's first impulse is to send her to meet Regina. Emma stands very still and listens intently. There is some kind of a bustle downstairs, excited voices (presumably her parents' and Kathryn's), the sound of the door closing, and more voices.
"Emma, come down, Regina's here!" it seems she'll never be left alone in this house. With a mournful sigh, Emma creeps out of the room and into the hallway, peering cautiously down. The procession's already moved into the dining room, for the hall was empty.
She creeps down the stairs and approaches from behind, hoping to remain unnoticed for as long as possible.
"Well, you already know David and Kathryn," Mary Margaret chuckles a little nervously as she introduces everybody to Regina. "This is Frederick, Kathryn's fiancé..."
"Call me Fred," the man smiles as he shakes Regina's hand.
"This is Lily, uh... Emma's girlfriend." Emma notices Regina's head twitch. She can't see her face, but her hair flutters for a moment. Lily doesn't approach, just nods stiffly and smiles. Her eyes immediately dart to Emma, who now stands behind Regina and Mary Margaret.
"Emma, are you co..." her mother's suddenly loud voice sounds indignant.
"I'm here," she says from right behind Regina, who turns short to face her, causing her hair to fly up again. With a nod of greeting, Emma walks past her to sit down at the table next to Lily.
"Regina and I have already met," she explains. "The other day."
"Oh, that's right..." Mary looks a little taken aback. She probably expected they would exchange kisses and give each other a big hug.
"Take a seat, Regina," David pulls out a chair for her at the head of the table, not far from Emma. Of course, the guest of honor.
Fred pours wine for everyone. David slices the chicken and fills everyone's plates. Mary stands up, raising her glass, and everyone follows suit.
"Here's to all of us are here today together," Mary Margaret says, her voice trembling with emotion. Everyone nod and clink glasses.
"And to Regina's victory," father interjects.
"Wait, it deserves another toast!" his wife shushes him. "So, Regina," Mary Margaret says to her as everyone is about to eat. "Just to clear this out, all of us here voted for you," she gives a demanding glance around everyone at the table. "Didn't we?"
If everyone voted for Regina, it was mostly because they didn't have much of an option. Gold put himself in, but everyone's already had enough of his shit. Regina's main opponent was Sydney Glass, but there was something fishy about that guy, so the choice was obvious.
Regina smiles politely. Today, she wears an elegant maroon knee-length dress that shows off her figure perfectly.
"He was totally outnumbered. How many did you get again?" Kathryn asks. "Eighty percent of the votes?"
"Eighty-three," Regina specifies.
"I don't know what that Glass person was hoping for," David says, shaking his head. "He's not even from Storybrooke. He came here when he was what, eighteen?"
"Sixteen," corrects Regina. "He went to the same high school with Emma and me," Regina gives her probably the first glance of the evening. She stubbornly didn't look at Emma until now (Emma knew because she glanced at her surreptitiously now and again). And it was convenient – it was easier to ignore her altogether than to make a semblance of interaction for everyone here. "Then he went to Yale, as I did. Although, he was in the Division of Humanities whereas I studied at Social Science."
"Well, never mind, Regina was born and grew up here in Storybrooke, and she knows exactly what this town needs," Mary Margaret says, reaching for her glass again. "Here's to fulfillment of our desires! Regina became a Mayor, Kathryn released a book which has topped the best-seller lists for weeks," she looks around helplessly, trying to think of anyone else to praise, and then her eyes fall on Emma and Lily. "And Emma..."
"...hasn't been screwing anything up for almost a month," Emma finishes with a crooked grin. For some reason, she doesn't want her and Lily to be the topic for further discussion right now.
"It's a success," Kathryn gives her a thumbs-up, smiling good-naturedly, and Emma winks at her. "I have to admit, Regina, you were my best tennis partner of all time."
"What about me?" David feigns to be offended.
"Can I not answer that question?" her sister smiles guiltily.
"Well, shoot," David sighs.
Emma casts a furtive glance at Regina, who smiles politely and distantly. All evening she's been acting as if she is still at work. Madame Mayor, who paid a friendly visit to her old friend's family.
"Tell me more about your book, Kathryn," she says, adjusting the napkin on her lap. "What's it called?"
"Life After Thirty, Or What To Do With Your Life After Your Rose-Colored Glasses Have Broken Inwards," her sister chuckles. "My audience is mostly women in their thirties, as you might have guessed," she flashes a crooked smile. "You'd be surprised how many people don't know what to do with their lives when they finally give up their adolescent illusions. Tickets to the book signings have sold out with lightning speed. It seems that enlightened gurus have had their days now. More and more people want to listen to ordinary people like themselves."
"I also would love to listen to you, are your seminars fully booked already?" Regina inquires.
"I can arrange a private event for you, my dear," Kathryn assures her. "And we'll summon Emma and Lily as well."
Swan nearly chokes on her fries. "I think I'll pass, thanks," she grinds out, using a napkin to wipe away a piece of food that fell out of her mouth on the tablecloth. "My rose-colored glasses were broken ages ago."
Lily pats her on the back with mock concern. "And I'll stay home and comfort this drama queen."
Emma nudges her in the ribs, but Lily only smiles mischievously.
"You'd better tell us when you and Fred are planning to get married," Emma says, casually steering the conversation towards a safer topic.
"Spring, probably," Kathryn glances at her fiancé, who nods. "The apartment still needs to be renovated so it can wait."
"What do you mean it can wait?" Mary protests feigningly. "What about my grandchildren?! I don't want to be an old-aged granny! Besides, you and Fred are the only hope..." she glances cautiously at Emma and Lily. Emma rolls her eyes inwardly – discussing her hypothetical children is the last thing she wants to do right now, sitting across the table from Regina Mills.
"No pressure, of course," her mother is quick to reassure. "Besides, there are other ways, you know..."
"Mom," warns Emma shooting her a sullen glance. Fortunately, her father gives a jump to fill everyone's empty glasses.
"Let's drink to you, young folks! Stay well, y'all!" everyone agrees, but as soon as the glasses are lowered, Mary Margaret, however, starts talking again. God knows why she thought it's the right time to discuss Emma's personal life.
"Girls, tell us how you met. I don't remember Emma telling me."
Emma squints at her mother, who watches her with that slightly obsequious look that has been on her face ever since she found out that Emma preferred girls. She's always been a little too eager to claim that she would support her daughter's choice, but Emma remembers how frighteningly unnatural her smile was when Emma had brought Lily into her parents' house. As if someone had pinned invisible clothespins to the skin behind her ears. She also remembers the sound of the spoon clattering to the floor, spattering chunks of mashed potatoes on her feet and the floor, when she arrived in Storybrooke during summer holidays, and her mother unobtrusively asked if she had a boyfriend. To which Emma replied: "Does a girlfriend count?"
Emma realizes – what she has been dreading most is about to start. She can't help glancing at Regina, but the other woman resolutely refuses to look at her. Swan hesitates, but Lily says with false enthusiasm, "Oh, that's just a hilarious story."
Emma tries to catch her eye, to let her know that she'd better stop talking, but Lily doesn't look at her. So Emma kicks her shin under the table. The girl looks at her then but keeps on nonetheless. Her eyes twinkle with such a maniacal gleam that Emma knows it won't do any good.
"Oddly enough, we met in the library. But don't jump to conclusions – Emma just wandered in by mistake, looking for the canteen," she grins approbation, as others giggle.
"That is more like our Emma," Kathryn says, winking at her sister over the rim of her glass.
Emma gives her a bored look. Lily, meanwhile, continues: "She was still an innocent freshman back then, or not too innocent, you tell us, Emma," she smiles slyly at Emma, who has been giving her a long hard stare the entire time. "I was already in my third year. I knew right away which team she was playing for, but I wasn't a hundred percent sure. But still, I had my eye on her right away because – c'mon, you've seen Emma, right?" she tweaks her on the cheek teasingly. "And those arms of hers... So, long story short, for the first couple of years we hardly knew each other. Until one day I saw her at a party with a hot brunette. She's always been a sucker for brunettes, right, Em?" Lily's smile is innocent, but Emma can see the dangerous glint in her eyes, and it makes her uneasy.
"Not always," Regina's cattish voice makes Emma look up. The woman immediately looks away, as if annoyed with herself for even choosing to get in this discussion.
"Is that so?" Lily turns her curious gaze from Emma to Regina.
Clearing her throat, Madame Mayor explains reluctantly, running her finger along the stem of her glass: "She used to date blondes in high school."
"One blonde," Emma points out a little too sharply. She doesn't like having her personal life discussed in front of her as if she wasn't there.
"How wonderful it is to discover something new about your girlfriend, even after three years of dating," Lily coos in mock delight, earning another hard stare from Emma.
Mary Margaret says good-naturedly: "If that's what Regina says, then it's a true story. I don't think anyone knew Emma better than Regina, " she gives Mills, who maintains a deadpan expression, a warm smile, and Emma just has to let her mother talk through, praying that her trip to yesteryear will end sooner rather than later. "It always delighted my heart to watch you guys. Although you were always messing up with something, which ended up with me having to go down to the school," she giggles. "I remember Mr. Robbins, the one who taught geography, calling me in because these two had two identical test answers. They both got themselves a week of detention then," she shakes her head, but it was more adoration to it than disapproval. "And when I got called down to the Principal's office because Emma broke Patrick's nose, what was his name again? Gerkins. The one with braces. By the way, why did you break his nose, Emma? You never told me."
"He called Regina names... I'm not gonna repeat that word," Emma mutters, looking straight ahead. Lily listens without missing a word, casting glances at Emma, with that highly irritating expression on her face as if she knew something Emma didn't, and Emma hates it.
"And remember Regina used to come over after school every day when you were sick and would explain everything they learned that day?" Mary chirps, oblivious to the heightened tension between the two women. Emma stands up abruptly, and everyone looks at her in surprise.
"Looks like we're done eating, it's time for dessert," she explains dryly, taking away Lily's empty plate.
"I'll help clear the table," Regina volunteers, and Emma curses under her breath.
Regina insisted on doing the dishes, despite Mary Margaret's objections. With her sleeves, resolutely rolled up, and with an apron tied behind her back, she now scraps the leftovers off the plates and passes them to Emma, who loads everything into the dishwasher. After a couple of excruciatingly tense minutes, Regina speaks up, and the chill in her voice can make anyone catch a cold.
"I suppose there's no point in making small talk just because we're in the same room?"
"I suppose not," Emma says, matching her tone. Both of them are careful not to look at each other.
"How very nice," sums up Madame Mayor.
"You can't resist the last word, can you?"
Emma can't help but look at her, thoroughly annoyed.
Mills puts down the plate she was holding and, lifting her chin, pronounces firmly: "Sheriff Swan, just because your job obliges you to use your deductive skills occasionally, doesn't give you the authority to assume that you know people."
Emma feels her anger boils up inside.
"Oh, I know you all right!"
The sound of footsteps startles them both. "Need any help?" Lily asks airily from the doorway. Emma forces a tight smile:
"It's okay, we're doing fine."
Lily, however, comes closer.
"So you and Emma were friends at school..." she drawls pointedly. "You didn't tell me that, Ems," the fixes a scrutinizing, even prickling look on Emma.
Emma shrugs indifferently.
"Didn't feel the need."
"Tell me, Regina," Lily says, putting her arm around Emma's shoulders and locking her hands together as Emma was busy with the dishwasher. "Was she such a pain at school, too?"
Regina fumbles with the strings of her apron, taking it off, and after a brief pause, she says dryly:
"Let's just say that if she had spent even a fraction of the time doing her homework instead of thinking about girls, she'd have had a much more exciting career ahead of her rather than a small-town Sheriff."
That doesn't answer the question at all, and Emma stares at Regina, trying to figure out what was the reason for saying it in the first place. Unless it was guided by a desire to sting her.
Lily grins and begins to smooth out the nonexistent creases on Emma's shirt, now addressing her words to her: "Nothing seems to have changed since then. You thought I wouldn't notice your mini-storage of lesbian porn under the bed? Honey, if you lack something in our sex life, just tell me, I'm open to experimentation."
Emma feels her cheeks going hot.
"I'll go check if there are any plates left," Regina storms out of the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.
Emma gives her girlfriend a reproachful look: "Why don't you act your age for a change?"
Lily shrugs, unperturbed, not an ounce of guilt on her face. More like a semblance of triumph.
"Come on, she's such a prude. I wanted to expand her comfort zone."
"It wasn't at all appropriate," Emma says coldly. She doesn't know what kind of game Lily was playing, but now she showed an unfamiliar side, and that side Emma definitely didn't like.
"Oh, come on, why are you being so tense, for God's sake?"
"I'll go check if there are any plates left," not looking at Lily, Emma starts to move towards the door, but her mother's concerned voice comes to her ears.
"What, you're leaving already? What about dessert?" which is followed by Regina's soft voice, but Emma can't make out the words.
She steps out into the hallway and watches from a distance, David handing Regina her trench coat while her mother and Kathryn bemoan the fact that Regina has to leave.
"Emma, Regina's leaving! Come say goodbye!" Mary Margaret announces loudly but quickly notices her daughter. Emma stands leaning her shoulder against the door frame and gives a curt wave to Regina, who nods back and turns away. Emma senses Lily standing next to her but chooses to ignore her.
There is a tense silence in the car on the way home. Emma is angry at Lily, who seems to be doing everything to spite her today, and doesn't even seem to feel any guilt, at all.
"You think we should have asked her over for a threesome?" Lily drawls, and her voice feels strange. In fact, she never seemed more alien to her.
"My God, what the hell are you talking about?" Swan sighs wearily, shaking her head.
"Oh, come on," her girlfriend says. "When you're around her, you could fry an egg on your face! And don't you dare to tell me you were 'just friends'!" her voice begins to thrill with emotion, and Emma stares at her. "I won't ever believe it! There's so much tension between you two that you could provide electricity to a small urban village for a day, no less," she finishes, her lip curling.
"Okay, okay, I was in love with her," Emma exclaims, slamming her hand on the steering wheel. "A hundred years ago. So what?! Show me one person who hasn't fallen in love with a straight girl in high school?!"
Lily's voice becomes quiet and insinuating: "I wouldn't say she's the straight one. I'd assume she's a power bottom..."
"Do me a favor, change the subject, Lily." Emma pleads.
"Admit it, she still turns you on," there's a dangerous edge to her voice, and Emma knows whatever she says will be used against her. She rolls her eyes to the heavens.
"What's the point of saying anything about it when you only hear what you want to hear?!"
"I also have eyes, you know! And I can see plenty of things!"
Swan gives a resigned sigh. It's going to be a long evening.
Fifteen years ago
Emma stands in the hallway, fiddling with the plectrum that she's just found in her pants pocket, and waits for Regina to finish attacking Mr. Ibbs with questions about whether she can retake the test if the result wouldn't satisfy her. Finally, Regina joins her in the hallway, and they both walk out into the courtyard, happy for the school day to end.
"How was your test?" Regina asks.
"It's fine. I thought it would be worse," Swan shrugs nonchalantly.
"You said you hadn't even studied for it," says Regina, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"What's there to study for?!" Emma chuckles, earning another mocking look of disbelief. "I only listen to whatever they say in class and memorize. And this is enough for me to scrape up the necessary minimum points."
"You know perfectly well that if you'd make more effort, you could easily have been one of the best in the class. And then get into any college you want."
"I guess I like living too much, you know? Spending all your time doing nothing but studying..."
They step out into a courtyard lit by the midday sun, dappled with carved shadows of still-green leaves, where students were scattered, enjoying their short-term freedom.
"Emma! Emma Swan!"
Emma flinches at the sound of her name and sees a girl wearing bright clothing who strides towards them – a flared plaid skirt, knee-high socks, black-and-pink sneakers, and blonde hair with a strand dyed acid pink.
"Oh, my God," Regina mutters to herself. "Who is this creature, and what planet is it from?.."
"Shut up," advises Emma amiably and waits for the girl to approach. Regina doesn't get too close but stays a couple of feet away from them, giving them a chance to talk but not missing a single word of the conversation.
"Uh... Chris, right?" Swan suggests uncertainly.
"Tina. But you can call me Chris if you want to," the blonde shrugs happily.
"Uh-huh... okay..." Emma adjusts the strap of her backpack.
"Cool tie, by the way," the girl reaches out and picks at the tie for a few seconds, taking a better look.
"Thanks," Emma says carefully. She doesn't fully understand what this is all about.
"How was your vacation?"
"It was okay, I guess..." Emma shrugs again, not sure if she should go into details or if the girl's just being polite.
"I've heard you're forming a band. Can I get in?" Chris gives her a stunning smile, which makes Emma uncomfortable.
"Well, that's the plan, but we haven't decided anything yet," she scratches nervously behind her ear. "But we are, yes. What do you play?"
"Keyboards. I also sing. A little. Maybe not as awesome as you do. I can do backup vocals."
"Uh, okay. I'll tell KJ, and then we'll figure out when we all can get together and listen to you. We haven't even come up with a band's name yet, but that's no big deal..."
"Give me your number so we could keep in touch. Or you can take mine," that dazzling smile again.
"Uh, okay, what's your number?" Emma says, fishing her phone out of her pocket and notices Regina watching the girl with a mocking look. She squints a little in the sun, which makes her eyes amber instead of the usual chocolate color. Christina, in turn, prefers to ignore her, focusing her attention exclusively on Emma.
After exchanging phone numbers, the girl says: "Oh, by the way, are you going to the Boston Rock Festival this weekend? I'm totally going. I bet, it's gonna be so cool!"
"Oh, I want to go, yes. I have to ask my parents first. 'Paramore' might be there, you know, they released their debut album this summer."
"It'll be awesome if you go too!" the girl is so excited that she almost bounces on her toes. "Oh, we can go together! My dad can take us there! If I ask, he can talk your folks into letting you go with us, too!"
"Wow, that would be amazing, but I don't know really... our parents don't even know each other..." Swan bites her lip in thought.
Regina stands with her arms crossed, and Emma is struck yet again by her ability to keep her face impassive and still radiate so much skepticism.
"My dad works as a driver for the fire department where your dad used to work," Chris pats her lightly on the shoulder, then straightens her tie, which is slightly askew after she has touched it.
Emma wonders what else this girl knows about her that she doesn't.
"Cool..." that's all she can say. Regina purses her lips as if she's holding back a smile and turns away.
"Oh, I can give you some fresh stuff to listen to. 'The Rolling Stones' released their new album this week," she pulls a CD out of her badge-covered bag.
"Are you serious? Wow. Thanks. KJ loves them," Emma can't wait to listen to it in the garage with him. Maybe they'll get inspired enough to write a couple of songs.
"Give it back whenever you want," the girl smiles and pats her hand one last time. "Okay, I'll see you later then. Call me if anything. I'll ask dad to call yours today," she waves her goodbye, backing away.
"Okay, thanks again," Swan nods at her and turns to her companion.
Emma doesn't know why this interaction seems to be so strange. Is it all about Chris's overwhelming enthusiasm? Or is there something more to her friendliness? Or maybe the girl just really wants to join their band. The band in which there are two people at most, two ancient guitars, and which is still untitled.
"What was that just now?" Regina raises an eyebrow, giving her a piercing look.
"What do you mean?" Emma starts walking toward the school gates again, looking around for Regina's car.
"Don't you think she's acting weird around you?" explains Mills, rolling her eyes.
"You mean she's so annoying? She's just been a huge fan of mine ever since she saw me at the skate park. You should have seen her – she was applauding so much I thought she would jump out of her pants any second. And she saw me and KJ playing at the mall once."
"Is she emo?" Regina grimaces, rounding the car to open the driver's door. Swan shrugs:
"It's ska, according to her."
"Jesus, it's just pure showing-off to me," Mills shakes her head as she puts the key in the ignition. Emma, fiddling with her tie, is ready to agree with her.