A/N: Here is a long-awaited update, clocking in at ten pages with plenty of big paragraphs and all the Semma fluff you can take (along with a good bunch you can't). This chapter and the next are really two parts, although they work better and are more read-able uploaded separately. That's why you'll probably see two updates around the same time. Please review if you're still here! Enjoy.
I shouldn't be trying so hard. Normal is staring at my food in distaste and moving it around my plate for five minutes in between bites, not shoveling it down and eyeing everyone else afterward for their reactions. Thankfully, no one else is paying attention to me tonight. "So basically, my agent said that while it's kind of a long shot, if I do well with the reading than the casting director could remember my name when she's working on future films. I know that it's Vancouver and that I'd miss a few days of school, but it's such a great opportunity. What do you think?" Manny asks casually. It's obvious that she wants a 'yes' much more than she's showing, and I can tell that Spike is taking this into consideration.
"Manny," she says slowly, "I'd love for you to be able to have this opportunity. The problem is, I can't get the work time off and we don't have money for a hotel."
Manny doesn't blink before saying, "Well, I'd be staying with Craig. When I told him about it he practically begged me to come and visit him." It takes a huge effort not to choke on the dry asparagus stalk halfway down my throat. At the look that Spike and Snake share she adds quickly, "You guys know that Craig would take care of me. Besides, Christine, you know I'm covered; you were the one to pick up my birth control prescription yesterday." I snap my head in her direction and raise my eyebrows. With a boyfriend hours away and a tight knit social circle at school, why does Manny need to be on the pill? And why haven't I heard about this before? Snake must be thinking the same thing; he busies himself with studying his fork.
"I'm not sure that it's safe," mom says doubtfully, "for you to take the train by yourself. I know that you're independent, Manny, but you have to understand that I'd tell Emma exactly the same thing." Her face falls and she nods slowly, looking down at her plate. I can feel the familiar pit in my stomach at that look, and before I know it I'm off an running with a suggestion. I think fast and talk even more quickly.
"What if I went with Manny? Manny still has a lot of money left over from the movie and I have tons of baby-sitting cash lying around. I'm guessing that Craig has a couch in his apartment. There's safety in numbers, right?" Manny sends me a look filled with so much gratitude I'm surprised she hasn't burst.
"There's still the matter of school," Snake pipes up, giving us both careful looks. "Emma, I know how hard you've been working to bring up your GPA this year, and Manny, there is the matter of that anatomy and physiology grade…" he trails off. Manny's gulp is almost audible.
"Look, I can do the school work just as easily in Vancouver, and you know that most of the teachers are just going to be making us do busy work this close to midterms anyway," I reason, holding my breath as I glance between my parents. Mom sets her fork down on her napkin and lets out a heavy sigh.
"I'm going to want to speak to Craig." Our house guest doesn't bother trying to conceal her squeal.
-0-0-0-
"Perfect!" I announce, drawing a decidedly large circle around the boxed-in add. "Utilities are included in the rent, which your budget can actually accommodate; the dealership and school are both nearby… I'm sure it's not exactly heaven on earth, but it sounds like a really good deal." I glance at his face to gauge his reaction. A broad smile spreads his lips upward.
"You're a miracle worker, Em. I've been looking for a place for over a week, and in less than thirty minutes you've found something perfect." His thumb strokes the back of my hand as he leans forward to study the classified add. I can't help the blush that touches my cheeks.
"Not so quick; for all we know, the place could be infested with termites."
"Still, it's a start," he says, his eyes catching mine. My lips turn up automatically at the gesture and he casually wraps his arm around my waist. "So, do you think you can come check this place out with me tomorrow? I have a feeling that you'd be a lot more practical than I would."
"Of course I'll come. Just remember, once you invite me in you may not ever be able to get me out," I warn, nudging him gently with my shoulder. "I'll be coming over to escape Jack's temper tantrums and vacuuming your living room, complaining about dirty clothes all over the bedroom…"
"I didn't realize you'd be getting anywhere near the bedroom," he says, brushing the hair away from my face. I smile uncomfortably and feel that ever-present blush coming on again. The thought ignites a familiar heat in my belly, spreading out until every inch of my body is humming with the need to feel him against me. His thumb gently traces my bottom lip and I shiver involuntarily. For one perfect moment I'm drowning in his gaze. Just as we're leaning into each other Manny walks through the door, making a show of holding her hand over her eyes and clearing her throat.
"Please spare me the graphic visuals," she complains, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.
"I really can't wait until you get that apartment," I confide.
"Neither can I." His smile is quick and easy, and as we touch foreheads I let my mind wander once again. This is the third time in the last few days that someone's walked in on… what? It's not as if as soon as we touch I'm going to jump his bones. That seems to be the common assumption among my family, though. I guess it's just because the whole experience is new to my parents. Peter and I acted more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend around them; he knew enough to keep up a charming front to try to impress my parents. Chris was lucky to get to first base when we were alone. With Sean, there are no games or pretenses. Snake especially seems frightened by this for some reason. As soon as Manny's out of earshot Sean tilts his head toward my cheek. "You're so tense," he whispers into my ear. Goosebumps fan along the exposed stretch of my neck.
"It feels like we don't even have room to breathe with all of these people around. My mom, my dad, Manny--"
"—Jack," he adds, chuckling at the memory of my half brother walking in on a heated make-out session in the basement. "Let's hope he doesn't decide to try out that 'special hug' technique on any of the girls in his day care," Sean says with a snicker. I punch him in the shoulder lightly.
"Well you didn't exactly seem to be crawling with explanations. And if Jack isn't scarred from walking in on Manny and Craig for a year and a half, I very much doubt that we'll do any lasting damage." And because I'm tilting my head and smiling at him in a way that gives him permission and he understands this, we don't need to say anything else.
-0-0-0-
A brutal scream rips its way through my throat. For a moment my eyes don't register concrete objects, only the blurred colors of surroundings that feel unfamiliar. It's too bright, too bright, too bright – My hands clench the sheets drenched in sweat and draped across my bed. It takes a moment to realize that I'm in the basement, sitting up, and that I'm fine. Fine fine fine fine fine. It was just a nightmare.
The floorboards pound and in a moment Snake is cradling me in his arms as if I'm a two-year-old, asking me what's wrong. "I was just having a bad dream… I'm really sorry," I admit, the rational part of me slowly and painfully overriding my panic. His eyes cloud.
"I haven't heard you scream like that since…" I'm not sure whether he's scared to finish the sentence or simply can't remember.
The first memory I have of the nightmare is from kindergarten: I dreamed that I was in the backyard playing barefoot with Manny, picking dandelions to string into a wreath. Suddenly my heel thrust into a jagged piece of glass lying on the ground. Instead of draining a thin red bubble and clotting, my foot bled and bled and bled. Thin trails on the ground were soaked blood red. Manny had disappeared, and my foot kept bleeding until I woke up sobbing in my mother's arms.
After Snake was diagnosed, it came back. I was strapped down to an operating table in a sterile room, a doctor looming over me and a malignant tumor growing in my belly. Rivers of blood ran down my exposed calves, and the pain in my stomach increased with each new drop. I had the dream four more times before Spike suggested a therapist. In my typical stubborn fashion, I refused to see anyone or to mention any details of the nightmare.
Something had gone wrong by the third incarnation of the dream. I would stare calmly down at my chest as blood soaked through and Toby and Rick looked on in horror. It wasn't until sixth months later that I remembered a hand that had been clinging to mine throughout. I had sworn to myself not to take Sean's hands for granted if I ever got the chance to hold them again.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Snake's gentle question snaps me back to the present and I shake my head slowly. There's no way that anyone is ever going to drag this out of me. Not Snake, not Manny, not Rosa… not even Sean.
"I'll be fine," I assure him, ignoring the sharp hunger pang that hits my stomach.
-0-0-0-
"You weren't exaggerating when you said that it wasn't heaven on earth," Sean remarks, sliding a finger over the paneled wall and bringing up a suspiciously dark and squishy substance. I glance around at the floor nervously.
"Sean, I think that this place might have mice." He hesitates for a moment before smiling weakly.
"I guess that means that I'll be investing in a few traps, then?" The idea makes my nausea even more severe. I force myself to move past the thought and look around objectively, logically: it really isn't that bad, mice and dust aside.
"Well, you'll want to add some Raid and a variety of cleaning products to your shopping list, but with a pushed-up spring cleaning date and some personal touches, it probably won't be that bad as long as you're okay with being next door to a single mom and a baby. No late-night parties and drinking binges with Jay," I muse, grinning and raising my eyebrows. Sean's jaw tightens at the mention of Jay and an awkward silence falls over the apartment. "Look, I know that you're still really mad at him, but when you left, he was your best friend and I wasn't even with you."
"Exactly," he says, eyes flashing. "He went after you when you were going through hell, when he knew how special you were to me, and he didn't even bother to tell me after I got back. I had to hear it from you the first time that we'd talked in ages." It hurts me seeing him like this. As much as I despise Jay, I know that Sean only gets this angry over something when he still cares about the other person, and if Jay Hogart is going to take that wounded edge out of his eyes then I'm more than willing to put up with him.
"That won't ever be a decision that I'm proud of, but it's one that I made just as much as Jay did." The look in his eyes tells me that I've cut him even more with these words. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I chide myself. Before he can reply I grab one of his hands and place it between both of mine, smiling softly and shaking my head. "Look, just forget that I said anything. I never meant to make you angry. It's your business what you do with Jay." His eyes soften immediately, but I've already jumped from calculating his rent fees to calculating the calories in the sandwich I ate for lunch.
-0-0-0-
"What is wrong with you, Em? You've been floating through classes like you can't wait to get home, and once you get here you're either with Sean or you're staring into space," Manny complained, her forehead crinkled in irritation. She groaned inwardly about encouraging the stress marks at the corners of her mouth, certain that Emma would hear what she wasn't telling her: I'm worried about you. Manuella wasn't one to beat around the bush, but accusing Emma of purging probably wouldn't have gone over too well, in light of past experiences. Still… lately Emma's smile had seemed a little too perfect. A few too many blond hairs had been stuck in her hairbrush the last few mornings, and even though she hoped it was nothing more than a few bad knots, it paid to be safe. Especially when the girl in question was Emma.
"You know how I get around the middle of the year, Manny. Pretty soon there's going to be Christmas shopping and midterms and Snake's gay brother wreaking havoc with the extended family dynamic... it's just a little hard to focus on anything." Her words were convincing enough. Her eyes, though… Manny shook the thought off, realizing that in the dim lighting of the basement she couldn't exactly scrutinize the shiny patch on her best friend's pupil.
"Oh, I know. This year has just been one nightmare after another… did I tell you that I called Craig again last night? He was acting so weird; all jittery and hyper." She shrugged her shoulders and gave Manny an apologetic look. Advice-spouting Emma was the one part of her personality that never changed, and Manny had grown to love it with a passion (even though she hardly ever liked what Emma had to say in those moments).
"Maybe it's just stage fright? That tends to have crazy effects on peoples' nerves," Emma suggested.
"Yeah, maybe," she said, not paying much attention to the words. She traced designs on the edge of her comforter and nodded distractedly at the small, spiral-bound journal on Emma's bedside table. "So, I noticed that you'd started keeping a journal? When did that happen?" Manny smiled at the casual edge to her voice and congratulated herself. But Emma played along, throwing her hands to the ceiling and shaking her head.
"My therapist apparently thinks that we don't fit enough analysis of my psyche into one hour a week, so now I'm supposed to start using lots of descriptive words and pouring my feelings out on paper. Surprisingly, a lot harder than it sounds." Manny almost believed her, but at the last minute she looked up. For the first time in their fourteen-year-old friendship, she regretted being able to read the taller girl's eyes so well. Please don't open my notebook. Please don't find my dirty little secret. Concern darkened Emma's face at the sight of Manny's tears.
"I went to see Ms. Sulvey a few times after I had my abortion… she wanted me to do the same thing," Manny told her. "It's… not easy trying to make sense of something that senseless. You just end up blaming yourself or other people and asking a bunch of 'what if?' questions that don't have any answers." The memory brought a fresh sting to her eyes, and between thoughts of the baby she'd never had and the best friend who was disappearing before her eyes, she found it impossible to quell her tears.
"Oh, Manny," Emma said, and in an instant her arms had wrapped around her. It was a bitter irony, Manny thought, that Emma was trying to stop the very tears she was causing.
-0-0-0-
I cough slightly as the unmistakable smell of exhaust invades my senses. Harry looks up from his post behind the desk and shoots me a curious look. "Sean isn't here today, Emma." I smile nervously.
"I know. I was actually wondering if Jay Hogart was here?" I ask, gripping my purse strap tightly. He nods, motioning to the other end of the garage. "Okay, thanks." I hear the heavy metal coming from his headphones before I see two jumpsuit-clad legs sticking out from the underbelly of a red '96 Toyota. "Jay?" There's a brief pause before a wrench hits the ground and he rolls out.
"What are you doing here?" he asks tiredly. I notice the dark shadows under his eyes, and for the first time I think they might be the product of something other than a hangover.
"Look, I know that you and Sean haven't exactly been on speaking terms lately," I begin, cutting to the chase. He lets out a small laugh and shoots me a curious look.
"I'm surprised that you haven't come here sooner to gloat," he retorts, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead.
"That's not why I'm here. You and I never have gotten along, and we probably never will. But Sean is your best friend. And I know for a fact that he misses you, no matter what bullshit front he puts up," I say plainly. His eyebrows rise at my mild cuss and I roll my eyes, cutting off a snide remark. "Look, I could care less about your happiness, but when my boyfriend is mumbling under his breath after an afternoon of working with you, it begins to concern me. I've tried talking to him. Just… there has to be something you can do, something you can say to remind him of how long you've been friends."
"Don't you think I've tried?" he says, and for the first time in two years I note just how lost he seems without Sean nearby.
"Try harder," I reply, but my voice is slightly softer. "He'll come around sooner or later. I have no idea what the two of you talk about, but I'd have to say that in the area of conversation at least you have Spinner Mason and Toby Isaacs beaten," I joke. For the first time he looks at me hopefully.
"Hogart, get your ass back to work!" I cringe slightly at the rough yell and then turn to him with a tight smile.
"Next week I'll be gone for a couple days. Manny has an audition in Vancouver. Invite him over, smoke a few cigarettes, just… do your guy thing," I suggest, waving my hand around. Jay cocks his eyebrow.
"But Sean doesn't smoke. Not since you told him it was bad for the environment." I narrow my eyes and shake my head from side to side.
"Jay, give me some credit. Besides, I think that the atmosphere can take a few hits for a good cause." As I exit the small garage, I rack my brain trying to remember why reuniting Sean with his former best friend is such a good cause in the first place.
-0-0-0-
"We need to hang out soon. Not for a school project, and not while I'm underneath a car getting my hands greasy; just the two of us doing something fun and relaxed…" I snuggle into the crook of Sean's neck and take a moment to appreciate the way his breath tickles my scalp. This moment is a rare perfection, and if I blink too quickly I'll be asleep at my house or we'll be back to work on linear equations. "You seem so stressed lately."
"That's because I am," I reply wryly. It's been over twenty hours since I got any sleep, and those precious two hours were riddled with dreams I'd rather forget. Caffeine has made me a bundle of nerves. "It's probably just school… I let myself go so much in grade ten that now I'm scrambling to recover before sending out university applications. Plus, I've had a hard time convincing mom that I'm out until twelve with you on school nights because we're studying for composition," I add, giggling tiredly. His hand gently massages my shoulder. "Mm, that feels good." He leans over and kisses my forehead, breaking away to trace a calloused thumb down my cheek.
"You shouldn't worry so much, Em. Any school would be crazy not to accept you." There's so much blind faith in his voice that I have to smile. The smile fades when I look down at my thighs, practically bursting out of jeans that fit me perfectly this summer. I had only gained five pounds back when I purchased these. It's time to work up to a fast again. If I skip breakfast, have soup tomorrow for lunch and only drink the broth, and then purge after dinner, I might be ready. Not likely, I decide with dark amusement, hearing the decisive rumble coming from my abdomen. My expanded stomach feels like an empty drum. "Woah. I guess that means that I should order that double cheese pizza after all?" Sean jokes, not realizing how much the comment hurts. Before I can stop it a tear slips down my cheek and stains his shirt. He immediately shifts and takes me into his arms, murmuring apologies into my ear. "I can't believe I said that. I really didn't mean--"
"—I know," I assure him, laughing weakly. "I guess the lack of sleep is just wreaking havoc with my hormones."
"Still, I should have known that that would upset you," he argues in a whisper-voice. He strokes my hair gently. When he turns to face me, his blue eyes troubled and conflicted, I automatically prepare my excuses. "Em, if it isn't just school stress, you would tell me, right? You wouldn't try to hide it?"
It's over the minute he realizes I can't look him in the eye and say yes.
"Sean," I start, opening and closing my mouth a few times before I realize nothing is coming out. I'm not scared of the anger I know is coming, but the fact that it will be stemming from disappointment is almost more than I can take. He's already seen just how far from perfect I am. Why, God, why does he have to see this, this part of me that I don't even trust my mother with? "It's not like you're thinking," I finally say.
"Isn't it?" he replies, his voice rough and edged with unshed tears. "Ever since I've come back, all I've done is make things harder for you. First I cause a bunch of problems with your boyfriend and with Manny, then I force you to dig up your history with Jay, and now – now this." I'm not sure whether to feel guilty, touched, or angry. All I can think of is getting out of here, of finding the nearest bathroom, of… I clutch his hand in mine so hard that I imagine I hear his bones crack.
"Please, don't leave me. I know I'm not what you wanted, but I can't… if I'm alone now, I'll do… it… again," I plead. Do I phrase that last part so delicately because he already knows or because I don't want him to find out? "It's just so hard."
"How can I help?" Sean asks, as unsure of himself as I am of myself.
"Just don't make me be alone," I choke out, fighting the beginnings of an eerily familiar sensation. As my lungs refuse to take in any air and my mouth dries up and my pulse starts skyrocketing and tears leak out of my eyes, he is there with me. It's his voice shushing me awkwardly, not bothering to lie and tell me things will be okay. It's his hand on my back, easing out the stress stored there. It's his lips against my temple, informing me that it's okay to be weaker than weak.
"Emma, when was the last time you ate something?" he finally asks. Because I don't have the strength to sugarcoat it and because it really isn't that bad, I answer truthfully.
"I had some eggs and a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast." He gets up and moves out to the kitchen, and I bite back a groan as I hear silverware clinking against the discount plates we bought a few days ago. When he comes back with warmed up mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese I feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes. "Please," I whisper, my voice cracking as he sits down beside me. He gently rests the fork in my right hand and closes my fingers around it, holding it there surely.
"Eat," he says softly, and when I look at him he isn't disgusted or argumentative or even afraid that I'll say no. I bite back a protest and clumsily scoop up a bite of mashed potatoes, bringing it to my mouth and chewing slowly. It seems like an eternity before I swallow around the huge lump in my throat. His eyes meet mine so unflinchingly, urging me without pushing me. I spear a few pieces of pasta. Every single bite is a battle, but his gaze doesn't leave my face once and I force myself to ignore my intuition and chew, chew, swallow. When I'm finally done I push the plate away and rest my head on his lap, resisting the urge to groan over my swollen stomach. If it was anyone else I might yell or move away, but it isn't someone else; it's Sean, who has only ever asked me to do what he knows is good for me.
It's another two hours before my cell phone rings, and my caller ID flashes MOM; she's probably calling to tell me to get home. I think of a million reasons why I should answer her and then let Sean drive me home instead of letting it go to voicemail. You'll get yourself grounded. Spike's never going to let you see him again. Manny's going to start asking you whether or not you're having sex. If you have the nightmare tonight he'll know for sure that something's wrong. My body disregards this logic. I lean back wearily and let his arms envelope me, sheltering me from the sharp air of the apartment and the blast of the furnace. My eyelids flutter shut.
-0-0-0-
"Em, wake up." I blink rapidly until I adjust to the blinding light coming through the window. Sean's face is inches away from mine, and his hand is curled around my shoulder shaking gently. "I have to get to work pretty soon. Do you want me to drive you home?" It would be so simple to beg him to call in sick and to stay in this corner untouched by reality, but he has to work and I'm supposed to watch Jack while Spike works an eight hour shift at the salon.
"Okay," I whisper, sitting up carefully. The room swings for a moment as I fight off exhaustion. His hand slips down to my waist and he steadies me while I get up, guiding me to the door as if I can't walk on my own two feet. The drive is mostly silent, but when we're two blocks from my house he pulls over and kisses me gently.
"I just have a feeling I may not be getting the chance to do much of that for awhile," he admits, smiling guiltily. I don't bring my hand down from his face when he draws back and puts the car in gear again.
"I'll call you, okay?" I tell him, trying to assure myself. He nods as I shut the car door and make my way up the walk. Spike is already at the door.
"Get inside now," she spits out, taking hold of my arm and jerking me inside. Even though she's inches shorter and pounds lighter, my body stumbles after her like a rag doll's. Once the door is securely shut she turns to me, her face already several shades darker than moments ago. "What do you have to say for yourself? I called fifteen times, Emma. Fifteen times. And just when I'm getting ready to breathe because someone answers the phone, Sean, your boyfriend of less than a month, tells me that you've fallen asleep and he doesn't want me to worry. So of course, this makes me wonder why he hasn't picked up before and why you aren't home ten minutes after he hangs up. Would you care to enlighten me?!" I've never seen her this angry before, and the anger heating my own face can't mask my fear.
"I had a really rough day. I ended up falling apart on him, and then I guess I fell asleep, and he probably didn't want to wake me up," I say, jutting my jaw out staring her down. A pair of eyes identical to mine flashes fire.
"That's interesting, Emma, because you didn't seem that distressed when you got home from school yesterday. And Manny didn't exactly seem surprised when you missed curfew," Snake states. I make a mental note to wring my surrogate sister's neck.
"So how long am I grounded for?" I question, not bothering to try and explain myself further.
"A month. I don't want to see Sean around here, I don't want to hear the two of you on the phone together, and I don't want Snake seeing the two of you together at school. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly," I snap, moving toward the basement.
"Where are you going?" she barks, her voice taught.
"I'm going to take a much needed shower. Then I'm coming back upstairs to make breakfast, watch Jack, and dust and vacuum. The same thing I do every Saturday," I say. Her face softens slightly and I take it as my cue to go on. "Mom, I'm sorry that I didn't come home last night, and I'm sorry that my boyfriend had to be the one to call you. But I'm not fourteen anymore, and you know that I'm responsible. And Sean isn't just some guy. You know that."
"Do I?" she asks me quietly, searching my face. I bite my lip and look at the floor.
"I love him."