Page 38 of Between Here and There

“I need to—” she starts, but doesn’t finish.

And then it happens. Right there, on my shoes.

She hurls.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Emily

In a heartbeat.The words echo even as I wake up with a throbbing headache, somehow peacefully tucked in my bed.

I groan, rolling onto my back, staring at the ceiling as the memories from last night come in bits and pieces. Laughter. Drinks. Dancing.Joshua. Then it all comes rushing back in hazy flashes. The way I rambled my deepest fears to him, the way I stumbled into him, how he held me steady, how I poked his chest like an idiot and—shit. My stomach flips, but not because of the hangover.

Did I really ask him to kiss me?

Oh, God. I did. I cover my face with my hands, hoping the blankets will swallow me whole.Of all the drunk confessions, Emily. I could have admitted to a gazillion other things. But no, I had to admit that I’ve been thinking about kissing him. Worse, I asked him to. Even worse, he said he’d do it.

I scream into my pillow one more time, as if the embarrassment will slide away with each shriek. My phone buzzes with a text from Haley, asking me to meet up at the Corner Bistro. At the idea of breakfast, my stomach growls loudly.

So, I sit up, the world spinning around me. I’m still wearing yesterday’s dress, but I have a giant hoodie on. Josh’s hoodie. How the hell am I going to give it back to him without melting into an embarrassing pile of goop?

I take a deep breath. I could pretend I don’t remember any of it. I mean, I was totally disoriented, right? Who knows what I was saying or doing? It’s a perfect excuse to just... brush it off. Besides, this is all his fault. He’s the one who told me to let loose and have fun. He said he’d take care of everything—of me. Well, he did. Now I’m the idiot walking around in his hoodie, contemplating how to act like a human being around him.

But... shouldn’t I thank him? I mean, hedidlook after me and made sure I didn’t make an even bigger fool of myself. Except for the whole kiss thing. Maybe I could thank him for everything except that.

But what if he brings up my ridiculous request? What if he teases me about it? I can already imagine that smug look on his face and that handsome grin he has whenever he’s sure he got under my skin. Or worse, what if he pretends it didn’t happen at all, and I’m just left hanging with all these... feelings?

No, no, no.Feelingsare a bit of a stretch. Maybe I could call it flutters? Panic-induced flutters? Little parasites munching on my insides? Yep. Better.

I glance down at the hoodie and tug it tighter around me. Despite the fact that I slept in it, it still smells like him—like car perfume, deodorant, and shampoo all mixed together. And that’s not helping either.

After one more final groan, I get up and get ready for the day. I change out of the dress, but I put on some shorts and a tank top, putting Joshua’s hoodie over it. For a second, I remember that I am in Magnolia Heights and not New York. I give it a quick French tuck, the front of the hoodie neatly tucked into my shorts, just enough to make it clear to anyone I might run into today that I am, in fact, wearing pants. Because while I may not be ready to face my feelings, I’m definitely not ready for the judgmental looks that would come from walking around like I rolled out of bed in nothing but this hoodie.

When I arrive at our kitchen, my mother and sister are already there. Lila is looking at me with a smirk, while my mom is looking at me with sheer disbelief.

“Emily,” she starts, her tone drenched in that special blend of parental disapproval and exasperation. “I know you’re old enough to make your own decisions.” Oh, here we go. I brace myself. I know exactly where this is headed. “But please, alcohol is not the answer. You know what happens to drunkards.”

Drunkards? Really? She launches into a lesson on the virtues of moderation, the importance of self-control, and of course, the proper ways a woman should behave in public. Overall, she’s lecturing me like I set the house on fire. It’s like being responsible your entire life doesn’t count for anything. You mess up once and everyone’s ready to point fingers.

“Sorry, Ma,” I manage to say, even though my brain is swirling with all the things I want to say but can’t. I plaster on a smile that’s about as real as the plastic flowers on our dining table. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” she says, and I can already see the lecture winding down as she heads over to the fridge to pour herself some water. But of course, just when I think I’m off the hook, she continues, “Oh, and don’t forget, your sister’s school fees are due in a week.”

Right. Of course. Because why not? Let’s just pile that on top of everything else.

This is the life of the eldest daughter, right? You’re not just responsible for yourself; you’re responsible for everyone else too. Lila’s school fees, keeping the house in order, making sure everyone’s okay—all while trying to hold on to the tiniest pieces of yourself. And the worst part? One mistake, one slip, is all it takes for people to forget everything you’ve done right. You can give everything, but it’ll never feel like enough. Not to them, and sometimes not even to yourself.

I let out a quiet sigh as I glance at Lila, who’s still smirking at me, completely oblivious to the inner storm raging in my head.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll take care of it.” The words roll out of my mouth before I have the chance to think about them. Because it’s second nature. That’s what I do. I take care of things.

My mother gives a satisfied nod, as if everything’s back to normal, as if that one lecture has restored the natural order of things. Oh, well. It’s not like I’m gonna confront her about it. So yeah, I guess everythingisback to normal.

I walk out without another word and begin walking on the sidewalks. It’s still raining, so I’m thankful that I’m wearing Joshua’s hoodie. No one will question it anyway, since we’re supposed to be a couple after all. I wipe a tear that involuntarily escaped my eye, and pause to compose myself. I take deep breaths and clear my mind of what happened in the dining room. I’m not going to let it get to me. Not today.

For a second, I think about Dad. I swear I can still hear his voice when I need it most. He would’ve told me to ignore Mom’s nagging. He always knew how to make me laugh when things felt unbearable and would remind me that it was okay to mess up sometimes. But he’s not here. He hasn’t been here for thirteen years. And even though I’ve learned to live without him, there are days like today when the absence feels heavier, like an ache that never really fades.

Instead of going deeper into my sadness, I try to convince myself it’s just normal motherly talk after seeing her daughter come home drunk. Nothing serious. Nothing against me. Just because I act as everyone’s shoulder to lean on, it doesn’t give me the right to step on her parenting.Keep your mouth shut, and just endure it a little bit more, Emily.

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