Crystal Ball

“Where’s Vanessa?” Jack asked as he clapped me on the back in greeting, almost causing me to spill my drink while simultaneously choking on the sip I had just taken.

Coughing shortly, I replied, “Family trip, or something.”

Jack nodded, looking around the party. We were at some kid named Matt’s, who had graduated a year or two before. I didn’t know or recognize more than half of the people here, but had come with my friends regardless.

Taking another gulp of my beer, I surveyed the room again. Rian and Sarah, who he had finally asked out, were off talking to the side of the room, not seeming bothered by everyone that periodically bumped into them as they danced. Zack had come to this party, unlike many others. He claimed he didn’t like the parties we went to because of the lack of people he knew, most of which going to my school rather than his. Now, he seemed to be flirting with a blonde I had seen at a few parties, here and there, but never took the time to know.

And in the middle of the living room, where a makeshift dance floor had been created, amidst sporadically moving teenagers, Emma danced. Her arms were draped loosely around her boyfriend’s shoulders and she wore a smile as they moved to the beat. For some reason, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the sight, though I desperately wanted to.

“What’s up with you?” Jack asked, nudging me in the side with his elbow. I quirked an eyebrow, confused by his question. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past five minutes. What’re you staring at?” His eyes began to follow my own, but I averted my gaze.

“Nothing,” I answered quickly.

Thankfully, he let it go, changing the subject, though it wasn’t much better than the previous. “So did you ask Vanessa to prom yet?”

It was an innocent enough question, just one that I didn’t want to think about, or discuss. I wasn’t very excited for our the dance, though my girlfriend more than was. I shook my head as an answer, hoping that would be enough for Jack.

He was about to ask another, likely just as uncomfortable, question when a voice pulled my attention away. It was distant and I couldn’t make out every word, but the tone of Emma’s voice drew my eyes back to her. She was still in the middle of the room, though no longer dancing, her arms folded across her chest. Those immediately around her, who could probably hear the entire conversation taking place, stopped dancing as well as they watched Emma and Steve argue.

Emma turned to walk away from him, her cheeks red—from embarrassment or anger, I did not know—but he caught her arm, causing her head to swivel back to him. I took an unconscious step forward, ready to step in if needed, but Emma said one final piece that I could not make out before tearing her elbow from Steve’s grasp and stomping away.

She made a beeline for the back door, and after a moment, I followed. She was pacing back and forth on the lawn, her right hand pulling through her curly hair repeatedly. “You okay?” I asked as I neared her. Her step faltered before she resumed her pacing, shaking her head, causing her curls to bounce.

“Not really,” she stated, her voice hoarse.

“Anything I should be worried about?” I questioned the girl who I wanted to pull into my arms to stop her pacing. I could hear the breath she let out in frustration before she stopped and faced me.

Her voice shook, as she asked, “Am I really not attractive?” I was shaking my head before the sentence was finished, a response already on my lips, when she continued. “Be honest. Don’t just tell me what I want to hear.”

“Can I talk now?” I asked with a smirk. Her hands propped on her hips, a frown on her face. “Emma, I’ve told you before that you’re pretty, and I meant it. But you’re so much more than that, though; you’re beautiful, smart and funny, too. If Steve, or anyone else, said otherwise then they’re just plain wrong, or jealous.”

She smiled faintly. “You mean it?”

I smiled warmly, taking her hand in mine. “You’re the prettiest girl I know. Other than my mom.”

She cracked a genuine smile then and hugged me tightly. “Thank you, Alex.” Looking up at me under her eyelashes, she asked, “Can you take me home?”

“Of course.” I wrapped my hand around hers, set my half-empty beer bottle on a nearby rock, and led Emma around the house containing the party and down the street to my parked car.



I cut the engine when I ha parked in my driveway. Stuffing the car keys in my pocket, I followed Emma across my front yard, intending to walk her to her front door. But she didn’t go up the steps, instead walking between our two houses. “Where are you going, Em?”

She smiled back at me as she took my hand and led me to the tree house at the back of my yard. I let out a chuckle as I followed her up the ladder. Inside the wooden box, I was about to ask what Emma wanted to do for the rest of the night when she leaned around me to latch the lock on the door. She smiled at me before leaning up to press our lips together, her hands winding into my hair.

Stunned, I kissed back as an automatic reaction before pulling away a fraction. “Emma, what are you…”

“Shh,” she interrupted, pulling my face to meet hers once again. This time I didn’t protest. Instead, my hands found her hips, drawing her nearer as my fingers pressed desperately into the exposed bit of flesh of her lower back.

Her lips pressed and kneaded against mine harshly, nothing hesitant about her actions. At some point, Emma’s hands unwound from my hair and trailed down my chest. At my waist, they fingered the fabric of my t-shirt, lifting it slowly. I let out a breath at the feel of her hands on my bare skin.

My voice was shaky as I pulled back to look at my best friend. Her eyes were clear, obviously not clouded by any amount of alcohol as I had expected. “Emma?” She hummed in response, taking the moment that our lips weren’t connected to lift my shirt over my head, without much resistance on my part, except, “I-I thought it was a one time deal?”

“What?” she asked, looking up at me with clear turquoise eyes and rosy cheeks.

“This.” I motioned between our bodies. “I thought it was only that once.”

She looked down, misinterpreting my hesitation. “Do you not want to?” she asked slowly, quietly. And then louder and frantically, “Oh God. I’m sorry. I know you have a girlfriend, and I-I have a boyfriend. And you’re right, it was supposed to be that once…I just…”

“You just what, Emma?”

“Oh, God,” she repeated, sighing. “I’m so stupid.” She covered her face with her hands and began to turn away.

Gently, I pulled at her wrists to reveal teary, downcast eyes. “You’re not stupid, Ems. Now tell me what’s going on.”

She looked up at me tentatively, a lone tear falling down her cheek. I wiped it away with my thumb as she explained. “Steve didn’t want to sleep with me. And… now you don’t…” she trailed off.

I pulled her against my bare chest, feeling more tears escape her eyes as they landed on my skin. “Steve’s a dick,” I explained plainly, my jaw ticking in irritation with the boy while smoothing her curls as she cried softly. “And I…I never said I didn’t want to sleep with you,” I admitted cautiously.

She tilted her head so she was looking into my eyes, her own blinking back more tears. And I couldn’t help myself, I all but attacked her already plump lips with my own, my hands pulling at my belt as if the piece of leather were scorching me through my jeans. She shed her top as I tossed the belt to the tree house floor, all the while telling myself that I was doing this for her.

I only wanted her to feel wanted—to feel loved. It had nothing to do with the fact that I did want her. That I did love her.