Page 6 of For Emery

The dance blew. Ten minutes into it, all I wanted to do was get the hell outta there. Shyanne and Miley fought over who’d dance with me the entire time, regardless of the fact that I didn’t go with either of them, opting to go with my friends instead. I spent the night hiding by the bleachers, visiting the men’s room more than necessary, and paying a few of the guys to dance with the girls so I didn’t have to. They probably thought I was gay or something, since Shyanne and Miley were the prettiest girls in our class. But what they didn’t get was I didn’t care about that. I just wasn’t feeling it with either of them. Did I try to force myself to feel something? Sure. But I wasn’t one of those guys who’d act like I was into a girl if I wasn’t.

JP, the backup QB who lived down the block, dropped me off after the dance. As soon as he pulled into my driveway just after ten thirty, I jumped out of his truck.

I loosened my navy tie and walked toward my back door, glancing over at Emery’s house. Her bedroom nightlight barely lit her room. I hated that she needed that damn thing for nights she didn’t stay with me.

I stopped in my tracks and turned away from the door, deciding to stop by Emery’s house first. Once I reached her window, I tapped lightly, not wanting to scare her. “Emery,” I whispered.

She peeked out the window, her face lighting up as she pushed up the window. She took in my white buttoned-down shirt, loosened tie, and khaki pants. “You look so nice. How was the dance?”

“Totally sucked.”

She burst out laughing, covering her mouth so no one inside her house heard her.

“You got a pretty dress in your closet?” I asked.

Her entire face scrunched up. “What?”

“A dress. You got one?”

She nodded.

“Put it on and meet me by the big tree in my back yard.”

“Why?”

“Stop asking questions and meet me there.”

She nodded again and then disappeared inside her room.

I laughed to myself as I strolled through the darkness to the old tree behind my house. I definitely enjoyed spending time with Emery a hell of a lot more than anyone at that dance. People could be so fake. I hated knowing they smiled to your face and talked about you behind your back. I didn’t have to worry about any of that nonsense with Emery.

I leaned back against the tree’s rough trunk, scrolling through music on my phone. Country? Rap? Rock? I settled on a country playlist I knew she’d love and slipped my phone into my back pocket so her favorite country song filtered into the dark night.

“Hey,” she said.

I twisted around.

Emery stood there in a frilly yellow dress her mama probably bought her for Easter or something. She was barefoot and I wouldn’t have expected anything less from her.

“You look beautiful.”

Her eyes dropped to her feet, embarrassed by my compliment. “Why’d you want me here in this stupid dress, Jordan?”

“I owe you a dance.”

It took a minute, but her eyes slowly lifted to mine. They were glazed with what I hoped to God were happy tears.

I held out my hand. She stared at it for a long time before placing hers into it. I squeezed it and pulled her into me, bending as I lifted her hand and placed it on my shoulder so she could reach. “Now place your other one on this shoulder,” I said, ticking my head toward it. She did, and I slipped my arms around her small waist. “Now we dance.”

She looked up into my eyes. Words were unnecessary. I could see the appreciation in her small grin. And I loved that I was able to give her this moment.

“I told you I could dance,” she said with a sass I only tolerated from her.

I laughed as I moved us from side to side to the slow beat of the music. “You did say that.”

She rested her cheek against my chest and let me lead us in small circles under the thick tree branches that created a canopy above us. The song played through to the end as we shared what I was pretty sure was her first real dance.

“How many girls did you dance with tonight?” Emery asked.

---