A Proposal


"C'mon Emma," Chad pushed. Although, he wasn't making his case very convincing with a french fry hanging out of his mouth while he was talking around his mouthful of lunch. "You have to come to the party."

After I told Noel that I couldn't possibly go to his party this Friday night, due to my unreasonably early curfew and over protective parents, him and the rest of the testosterone-train (my nifty new nick-name) decided to spend the whole lunch period trying to convince me other-wise.

"Yeah," Chase jumped in. He gave Chad a quick look of disgust before he looked back at me. "This would be a great opportunity for you to meet the teens of Rosewood. You know, mingle and stuff."

"And by 'stuff' he means get drunk and dance on tables while the wrestling team throws dollar bills at you." Damion clarified. I opened and shut my mouth for a bit, not having a clue what to say to that, while they continued to converse around me.

"That was not what I meant but thanks for going there." Chase chastised.

"Hey, you've been to plenty of parties." Damion retorted. "Tell me that's not how they all end." Chad then decided to jump back in.

"They do always end that way, now that I think about it." Royce was trying to hold himself together next to me so he wouldn't spit his milk all over the table from laughing. But, he gave in and let out an awkward chortle before speaking up.

"Guys," He cut in. "Maybe having this conversation isn't the smartest way to get her to go to the party."

Finally, the voice of reason.

"Royce- for once- is right." Noel said, ignoring Royce's look of distaste. "Emma," He said, finally directing the conversation that was ultimately about me, to me. "The party will be great, music, dancing, drinks, and amazing people. And I promise, for all of us," He said, while giving all the boys a firm look. "That I and everyone at this table will not try anything on you that we would a regular party slut. And if we see you being approached by a drunk dick-head, we'll redirect him." The rest of them nodded in agreement before they looked at me again.

"Look," I started. "I'm thankful that you guys are trying to include me, and that promise almost sold me, seriously." The last part, I made sure, was very sarcastic. "But I have something that I have to do on Saturday. And I would like to get it done before I go to bed."

"Wait," Royce said, interrupting me. "Are you implying that you're actually going to bed on Saturday?" He asked incredulously.

"That's even worse than not going out on a Friday night." Chase added. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, I thought that you would at least be doing something on Saturday night." Chad said, border-line pitying.

"The point is," I gave them all annoyed looks before going on. "I don't want to stay out late because I have something important to do on Saturday. Not to mention my strict curfew," That doesn't exist. "and my over protective parents." Eh, they really aren't that over protective.

"How about this," Noel proposed. " You come to the party, stay a few hours, then go home. And we'll help you do whatever you have to do on Saturday. Six people will get it done faster than one."

"Wait we don't even know what we're helping her with." Chad said, giving me a suspicious look. "It isn't anything illegal is it?" They turned to look at me.

"No!" I exclaimed. "I'm painting my room." They all nodded, going back to eating their food.

"Well, do we have a deal?" Noel asked, he gave me a smile that should have made me melt. But, I just gave him a scrutinizing look.

"You promise to keep me away from the drunk party douche-bags?" I inquired, making sure that was part of our deal.

"I promise." He said.

"Yup, every one." Chase smiled.

"I'm more worried about Chad." Damion commented. We all looked at Chad, who had nearly half his chicken wrap in his mouth. I don't even think he could hear us over making love to his lunch.

"Yeah, we'll definitely have to keep an eye out for him, that wild man." Royce said sarcastically. I laughed a little before looking back at Noel.

"Okay."

"Okay what?" He pushed, lifting his eyebrows.

"Okay, we have a deal."


A few hours later, school was over, and I was making my way from my last period to my locker. There were no plans for me to rush to, I hadn't gotten the call from the Apple Rose Grille and I had no friends to call to hang out with. But, I guess I was used to my schedule being empty though. It always was the first few weeks somewhere.

I filled my bag with my things, making sure all the supplies I needed for the night was safely tucked away before shutting my locker. But, before I had the chance, I felt a tap on my shoulder. When I turned around, I came face to face with the girl from yesterday, the one who was fighting with Noel in the hallway. Her hair was just as straight as it was yesterday, but her lips were painted red. I smiled at her, showing off my teeth.

"Hi," I said, hoping she would tell me what she wanted so I could go home. If I don't have any plans, I at least want to do nothing in the comfort of my own home.

"Hi," She replied in a condescending tone. "I'm Mona."

"Emma," I stated. At this point, I definitely made the connection that this was the girl Emily was talking about last night. Scary It-Girl. And she barely said three words to me.

Either I'm awful clever, or she's just a bitch.

"I saw you at lunch today with Noel and his group of monkeys." She adorned a sugary sweet fake smile as she spoke, while my grin dropped the second her tone reached my ears. "I would be careful. They may be a bunch of baboons, but some of them can act like sweaty gorillas."

"Um-"

"I've gotta run," She interrupted me before I could even think of what to say. "There's a huge sale at this little boutique in town. Can't miss it." Her smile made me want to puke up my lunch. "Toodles." Mona flicked her hair over her designer clad shoulder before she turned to strut away from my locker. I huffed a puff of air before closing the metal door rather loudly.

Who was she to say something like that? Where does she get off to be able to tell me that I should be careful? That they act like sweaty monkeys? They don't seem like that at all. I mean, I admit that I did just meet them. But, I should be able to judge their behavior for myself. She has no say in who I need to be careful around. Who the hell does she think she is?

Ugh, it might be a damage to my ego, but's she's just a bitch.


Before my foot made it over the threshold of the main entrance of the school, my cell phone rang in my back pocket. At first I was confused, who could have possibly been calling me? The caller ID was an unfamiliar number, so throwing caution to the wind, I answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this," there was a pause as if they were reading my name off of a sheet of paper. "Emilia Anderson?"

"Yeah," I hesitated, not sure if giving my identify away to this stranger was smart.

"Hello, Emilia. This is the Apple Rose Grille." My ears perked up considerably at that as I made my way to my car in the student parking lot. "I'm calling to inform you that your interview for an entry level position at our restaurant will be today at five-thirty. Is that alright?" I smiled, happy to finally hear from them. Although, the fact that my interview was in two hours made my stomach churn with my normal anxiety.

"Yes, absolutely, that's great." I rushed. "Thank you."

"I'll see you at your interview today, Emilia." They said. "Goodbye."

"Um-" The phone was hung up before I was able to reply. "Bye." I mumbled into the receiver. Despite being hung up on rather rudely, and having nearly no time to prepare for my job interview, I couldn't stop smiling. Getting a new job in a new area was always exciting. So, realizing I had no more time to waste, I hurried to my car and sped home.


"Don't forget to sit up straight." Karen said, fixing my hair into a formal braided bun.

"I know."

"And don't mess around with your hair a lot, or look at your reflection a whole bunch. You don't want them to think you're conceded." Her nimble fingers worked fiercely at my hair. My head jerked as she yanked each strand between her hands, creating an elegant french braid down my scalp.

"I know."

"And make sure you repeat every question in your answer, it makes you seem intelligent." My hand rested by my head, holding hair pins up for Karen to grab and jam into my head as she twirled the braid around in a circle in the back of my head. Having Karen do my hair was always a painful experience, but the results were always equally as amazing as painful.

"I know."

"And make sure you sit up straight- wait I already said that. Make sure you-"

"Karen," I said, looking at her in the mirror in the master bathroom her and my dad shared. "I remember all these tips from the last time I got a job. Stop worrying." She smiled softly at me, her stature relaxing against my back. Her grip on my head became significantly gentler after she relaxed. I held back the sigh of relief.

"I'm your step-mom, it's my job to worry about you." I handed her another hair pin with a smile. It warmed my heart when she worried in the most selfish way.

"I know," She wacked my forehead when she saw my eyes roll in the mirror. After she shoved the last pin in my hair, she smiled in triumph.

"There," She sighed. "Done." I grinned at the final result, standing from the stool she dragged in from the parlor. I looked over my outfit in the mirror, straightening my blue button-up blouse, pulling up my black dress pants, adjusting my matching black blazer, and wiggling my toes in my open toed black sandals.

"You did a wonderful job as always." I praised, admiring her work further.

"And you look beautiful, as always." Karen put her hands on my shoulders, looking at my through the mirror. Her smile was warm and welcoming, like it always has been.

"Oh shucks, Karen, you're making me blush." I joked, backing out of the bathroom, prancing down the stairs to grab my keys and eat a few bites out of a juicy red apple before I ventured to my nerve-wracking job interview that was starting in about 25 minutes.

"You know what I'm going to ask, right?" My eyes practically rolled themselves.

"Yeah yeah," I popped open the proper flap and threw back the pills before taking a greedy bite out of the apple. "There, can I go now?" I asked impatiently as I did a 360 degree turn in front of my fussy step-mom.

"Wait, wait, wait," She said, fixing the color of my blazer before smiling at me with her cheek dimples in full bloom. "Okay, now you can go." I sighed, turning to bolt out the door. "Dinner will be in the fridge when you get home!" She yelled at me quickly before I shut the door. As I was backing my car out of the driveway, my dad's grey hybrid pulled in after me. Ave was in the backseat, waving frantically at me. I laughed before speeding off to the interview, hoping I wouldn't be too close to being on time. One of Karen's tips:

Early is on time, on time is late.


"So, why do you think I should pick you for this job over all the other applicants?" My sweaty palms rubbed against the soft fabric of my pants as I thought of my response.

"Well," I thought back to Karen's advice: And make sure you repeat every question in your answer, it makes you seem intelligent. "You should pick me for this job over other applicants because I'm not scared to work hard, or take on extra shifts, or get my hands dirty; in a figurative sense of course. I would never handle food with dirty hands, sir."

"That's always a good trait for a bust girl, Miss Anderson." The burly man named Mr. Marx. Although, he didn't seem like the kind of guy who thought everyone should be equal (In reference to Karl Marx). But he wasn't necessarily unpleasant, just slightly rough on the exterior. "And what kind of experience do you have in the food service industry?"

"Well, I worked at a McDonalds about two months ago. And I was a waitress at a local diner when I lived in Belvidere, New Jersey." I replied, hoping that those were enough to make Mr. Marx think I was qualified enough to work as a bust girl.

"Hmm," He hummed to himself, looking down at my resume and application in his hands. I took this moment to look around the restaurant from the corner booth we were sitting in. My eyes caught sight of a mop of dirty blonde hair and a strong back seated at the bar, making me smile a little. My nerves were still there, but seeing Jason somehow made me a little happier to be there at this exact time. I saw his head turn in my direction, probably sensing me looking at him from across the room. When our eyes met, I didn't immediately turn away like I thought I was going to. I didn't clam up at the eye contact, but embraced it with a smile. No, it wasn't my shyness that made my eyes leave his, but the sound of an unhappy Mr. Marx trying to get my attention. I saw Jason chortle at me before I looked at my interviewer. "Miss Anderson, is there something sitting at the bar that's more important than this interview?"

"What? No sir."

"Because I mean, I can give him my seat, let you guys continue. He is quite a handsome fellow." I shook my head urgently, feeling the pins in my bun stabbing my head.

"Absolutely not Mr. Marx, I apologize for my rude behavior." He gave me a stern look, before looking back down at his cards to come up with another question for me to answer.


A/N

Okay. I'm back guys.

I know you all missed me.

Okay just kidding but seriously, I'm getting so excited for this story.

You'd think I'd update more with how excited I am.

But, next chapter will be the party, and it is gonna be awesome.

oh and sorry for jumping around alot in this chapter it wasn't my intention but i didn't feel like writing a million fillers and this chapter be a mammoth.

And you guys should start telling me whether you like Jemma(Jason and Emma) or Nemma(Noel and Emma) more.

Because I already have an idea of what's going to happen but your guys' opinions would be good.

And I wanna clear something up.

Emma is older than the girls. Yes, she is in their english class, but that's because with how much she's moved she has to take a sophomore english class. She is a junior, she is 17. I just wanted to make that clear.

Okay, so thank you for reading. Whether you review, favorite, follow, or none of the above, I wanna thank you for letting me waste your time.

And a special thank you to Guest, Miss E Charlotte, and twilight-luver(.com)[sorry the site was acting up and I couldn't put your proper username, many apologies] for the lovely reviews.

xoxo