A/N: So, I had said I would do a Christmas chapter, but since that clearly didn't happen, how about an Independence Day chapter instead?
Chapter Eight
By summer, things had settled down in Emma's life again. Well, settled was a relative term, but she was in a new home with mediocre parents - not mean or terrible, not strict, but not overly attentive either - and she was trying hard to push the memories of Ingrid far back in her mind.
Om the fourth of July, her foster family loaded all the kids in the van - kids being an appropriate term, since at the age of fourteen, Emma was seven years older than the oldest child - and took them all to the local park for the Independence Day celebration.
By the first half hour in, Emma was bored out of her mind.
Her foster mother, Laura, found her leaning on a tree staring off into the distance after about an hour.
"Sorry, Emma," Laura said, with a sympathetic smile. "I didn't realize there'd be nothing here for teenagers to do."
Emma shrugged. "It's fine. Maybe I'll just go for a walk or something."
"Okay," Laura agreed, reaching into her purse to pull out some money. "Here, take some money in case you want to buy some food or something."
Emma smiled and put the money in her pocket before heading off in the other direction. Laura was nice enough, but she was just another foster mother. She had no interest in adopting her, and Emma had no interest in getting attached.
Emma kicked at the gravel on the ground as she walked. She was headed away from the park and the food vendors but she didn't care. She wasn't particularly hungry and there was nothing there for her anyway.
She wasn't familiar with this town, but there seemed to be a commercial area past the park, and she supposed maybe she could find something interesting to do there. It was still only mid-afternoon and her foster family intended to stay until after dark for fireworks, so she guessed she had plenty of time.
After about ten minutes of walking, Emma came across a small convenience store and headed inside. It was rare that she had money for things like candy and junk food, and Laura hadn't specified what kind of food she should buy. She picked a chocolate bar from the rack and headed up to the counter.
When the transaction was complete, the cashier handed her three quarters and Emma smiled to herself. "You, uh, you don't happen to have a payphone here, do you?"
The girl behind the counter shrugged, clearly disinterested. "I dunno, I think there's one around back."
"Thanks." Emma grabbed her chocolate bar and headed back outside.
Sure enough, once she rounded around the back of the store there was a payphone. Emma grinned as she spotted a few old plastic milk crates stacked against the wall, and grabbed two to make a seat for herself next to the phone.
A quick scan of the instructions on the front proved that three quarters would not be enough for a long distance call, and Emma sighed. She felt bad calling Regina collect again, but she hadn't talked to her since the night she'd been placed in the group home, and it had been a few months since then. She hoped Regina wouldn't mind.
According to the TV and newspapers, today was a big day in this realm, but Regina had little interest in the holidays of this world. What difference did it make to her if a country had declared its independence from another, when she'd never stepped foot outside of this little town she'd created?
Of course, the people of Storybrooke thought they were American, but there were no Fourth of July celebrations because they had no idea what day it was today. The endless loop of replaying the same day over and over and over was grating more and more on Regina with every passing day, to the point where she wondered if she'd be better off just letting Emma come here and break the curse, if only for an escape from the monotony.
Then again, living out the rest of her life in a prison cell would probably be just as boring, and at least she had her freedom.
Still, freedom wasn't even always enticing these days, and when her phone rang late that afternoon, Regina nearly jumped out of her chair to grab it. She smiled to herself when she saw the Minnesota area code, and picked it up before it could even ring a second time.
She quickly accepted the collect charges, and listened for the line to connect. "Hello, Emma."
"Hey," came the girl's voice from the other end of the line. "What's up?"
Regina settled back down onto her couch. "Oh, not much. Aren't you out enjoying the Fourth of July festivities in your city?"
Regina could have sworn she heard the eyeroll in Emma's voice as she responded. "No, oh my God, it's so lame. My foster family brought me to a park with a bouncy castle and a petting zoo."
"You don't like animals?"
"I'm fourteen! I don't wanna be petting goats with four year olds."
"Fair enough."
"Fireworks are alright, I guess," Emma admitted. "But they don't start til later. My foster mother said I could go for a walk, so I walked to a store with a payphone. I figured you might be just as bored as I am."
"You figured right."
"Nothing exciting going on in your town today?"
"Fireworks celebrations aren't really for me. I don't see the attraction of watching explosions."
"Well, they're pretty to look at."
"I suppose." Regina figured she'd have to take Emma's word on that, since she'd never witnessed fireworks anyplace other than on TV, and she just couldn't see the appeal. "So tell me, dear, what else is new in your life? Are things getting better?"
"Things are okay, I guess. I'm off school for the summer now, which is nice."
"You don't like school?"
"It's hard to do well when I have to switch so often. It really sucks because I try hard but I just can't keep up, you know? Plus, all the girls just want to talk about boys and dating and make-up."
"And you're not into those things?"
"No… um, Regina. There's something I wanted to ask you. Remember when you told me that you kissed a girl once?"
"Yes, I remember."
"Um… does that mean… um, like… are you…"
"Are you trying to ask me if I'm a lesbian?"
There was a long pause on the other end, before a tiny, "um, yes?"
Regina smiled to herself as she thought about how to answer the question. One of the things she'd never expected about this realm was how much everyone concerned themselves with labels, being this or that with no in between. But how was she supposed to explain to a fourteen year old who grew up in a land without magic that her second great love affair had been with a dragon?
"I suppose the most appropriate label would be pansexual; I can feel attraction toward anyone, regardless of gender."
Another pause. "Oh. And that's, like, okay?"
"Of course it's okay. I know it's hard, feeling like you're different than everyone else, but Emma, it is okay."
"I feel like no one else could possibly get me. I'm not like them… and I don't mean just this. I'm just… different. You know, Ingrid might have been batshit crazy, but like… sometimes weird stuff does happen around me."
"There are things in this world beyond our comprehension, Emma. There's always things that can't be explained."
"I guess," Emma agreed. "I don't want to talk about me anymore. Tell me more about you."
Regina settled back against the cushions of her couch as she began talking. It was rare in her own life that anyone had ever wanted to listen to her, a feeling which she knew Emma understood all too well, so it wasn't surprising when Emma wanted to hear all about the mundane details of her life. She described her house, her town, her day to day routine as mayor, and Emma hung on every word.
"This must be boring you," Regina said, finally, when she'd run out of things to tell Emma about.
"It's really not. I like your voice. I could listen to you all day," Emma insisted. "But, if you want, you could always tell me about that girl you kissed."
Regina smirked. "I told you that's a story for when you're older."
"I am older. I'll be fifteen in a couple months."
"Older than that. What's that sound?" Through the phone, Regina could hear some sort of banging or crashing from Emma's end.
"Fireworks are starting. The sun is down here."
"Oh, honey, you should go find your foster family. I don't want you wandering around in the dark alone."
"It's fine. I'm only a couple minutes from the park. I can see the fireworks from here. That last one was huge, green and blue with some fizzly red spots all around the outside."
"That does sound pretty," Regina admitted. And she listened as Emma continued to describe every firework that went off after that. She wasn't sure that she'd ever appreciate fireworks, but Emma's voice was so light and carefree when she talked about them, and that Regina could appreciate.
She thought back to when she was fourteen going on fifteen, and what it was like to want something different than the path that was laid out before her. She cursed the fact that Emma was the savior again. Why did this girl have to be the one person who could be her undoing? Emma was the first person since Daniel who'd ever taken and interest in her for who she was, and not who she was supposed to be, and that irony wasn't lost on Regina.
Soon enough, however, the fireworks were over, and Regina insisted that Emma needed to go back to the park now, no matter how much she'd have liked to sit and chat with her all night.
"I guess, if I have to," Emma finally begrudgingly agreed.
"You know where to find me next time you're near a phone, dear. It's not goodbye, it's just good night."
"Right. Okay. Good night, Regina."
"Good night, Emma."
Emma hung up the payphone with a sigh, and grabbed her chocolate bar from her pocket as she headed back to the park. There was a frenzy of people, but eventually she found Laura again. Her foster mother looked frantic.
"Emma! Where have you been? You've been gone for hours."
"I went for a walk. You said I could."
"I expected you back before the fireworks started!"
Emma gaped at her. "You didn't tell me that. You said I could take a walk, and I did."
"I've been worried sick. Get in the van."
Emma sighed as she headed toward the parking lot. Laura didn't have to say it, but she knew she'd be calling her social worker in the morning. She'd been down this road a hundred times before, and the older she got, the less leeway she got with mistakes or miscommunications. She was well aware that her file was flagged, and her behaviour was considered 'problematic', but it was hard to keep up when the rules were different every place she went, and everyone just assumed she'd know exactly how to act in every new situation.
She slumped back in the middle of the backseat, between two booster seats occupied by over-sugared and over-tired children. One was crying and the other was hitting her with an inflatable sword that squeaked every time it connected with the top of her head, and Emma just closed her eyes.
Who knew where she'd end up tomorrow, but Regina was right: Emma knew where to find her, or at least how to reach her, and that made everything else just a little more tolerable.