Page 47 of The Emerson Effect
I quickly rechoreograph the idea I had in mind so it’ll work with three people instead of four. I’d never push Joey into doing something she’s not comfortable with.
We sit on the couch, and Callie and Raven join us a minute later with four margarita glasses filled to the brim. I take mine with an eye roll and zero intentions of drinking it, but as I explain to the girls what I want to do in the video, I find myself unconsciously sipping from the glass.
God damn it. I’m going to regret this. I know it.
A half-hour later, Callie, Raven and I are dancing and lip-syncing to a popular sound called “I’ve Got a Crush on You.” It has a witchy feel to the beat, so we play up the vibe with long, flowing hand movements as our feet move in a matching, simple pattern.
None of us are dancers, so anything too complicated would make us look like idiots.
The final product is adorkably awkward, and it’s fucking perfect. I don’t know about the rest of BingBang, but Emerson’s going to love it. And since I’m on my third margarita before noon, his opinion is the only one that matters to me.
I post the video with the caption, “Emerson,”then toss my phone onto the kitchen counter before heading up to my room to change. This get-together has reached pool party status since the others conspired in a separate group chat to wear their suits underneath their clothes. Callie already ordered a family-sized portion of tacos, chips, queso, and guac to be delivered for lunch, and by the time I make it into the backyard, they’re all already in the pool.
I flashback to the last time we did this. Too much tequila led to the questionable decision to send Emerson a nasty message. That decision set off this whole chain of events, and here I am with a new, secretly not-so-fake crush on the guy who I would’ve called the bane of my existence during that last pool party.
I really want to check my phone to see if my video is getting a good response, but I left it inside on the counter for a reason. I want to be present, in the here and now with my friends. With that thought in mind, I drain my margarita glass, set it on the outdoor table, and run for the pool with a warrior’s cry before cannonballing into the water right next to them.
They’re muttering and sputtering when I resurface, then all three of them gang up to splash me in the face until I can barely breathe through my laughter.
This is what life’s all about. This right here.
Emerson pops into my head at the thought, and I imagine him here with us. Swimming and splashing and tossing me around in this pool while we laugh together.
Shit. No. Stop it, Twila.
This whole thing is fake, and I can’t let myself forget it.
TWENTY-SIX
Emerson
It’s only been a few hours, and Twila’s dance video has gone even more viral than mine did. I don’t mind. I’m so fucking happy for her, forus, there’s no room in my heart or my head for petty jealousy.
This thing we started is working. It’s really working, and it’s going to change our lives.
The people have spoken, and for the most part, they love us. They love being a part of our courtship.
“Twila’s friends are hot.”
The voice startles me, and I see Stone leaning against the jamb of my bedroom door, his phone in his hand and a smirk on his face.
“Are they single?” he asks.
“Raven is,” I say. “But Callie is taken.”
I don’t mention Joey because she’s not on camera. When I video-chatted with Twila earlier, she told me who was who andthat Joey was too anxious to be in the video, so she handled the recording.
“Is Raven the dark-haired one?”
“Yeah,” I say with a nod.
They both have dark hair, but Callie’s is more of a deep chestnut while Raven’s is as black as the bird for which she’s named.
“She’s hot, in a sexy-goth kind of way. You should hook me up.”
Nope. Not going to happen.
I love Stone, and he’s a good guy, but he has some massive commitment issues when it comes to women. And if he fucks around with Raven, and things sour, it could mess up the good thing I have going with Twila.
