Fancy Pants

-

So apparently the third floor is for the study and like a shit ton of other rooms. Who needs this many rooms? There’s like ten each floor.

One of these better be a bathroom. I still have to go.

“Is one of these rooms your bedroom?” I asked out of curiosity, following her down the looooooooong hallway, then realized how she might end up taking it and added, “Just curious.”

Emma seemed to know exactly what that question could’ve meant as she glanced back before beginning to smile. “My room is on the second floor. If we have time, I show you.” Well, I kind of like that answer.

“Okay.” She took me to the very end of the hall where there was an enormous door with statues on either side. When we got inside, there were more paintings and some velvety furniture.

Well, I immediately thought, taking a seat where Emma had told me to, those would be nice to have sex on, and wanted to slap myself for thinking it, but couldn’t stop from wondering what if. But any trace of a would-be boner disappeared when I looked up and fucking Herald was standing in the doorway.

His eyes twinkled. He knows - he knew of my thoughts; he knew that I knew of his ninja powers. He knows everything. Maybe he knows if I’ll make it home tonight.

He shook his head.

Oh, god. I’m gonna die.

He nodded.

OH GOD -

“Ah, Ms. Emilia,” he beckoned in a heavily accented voice. I couldn’t tell what accent. I wanted to say French but at the same time wanted to say some type of Boston-based mafia. Emma turned in the computer chair to face him, her hands in her lap, a smile on her face.

“Yes, Herald?”

“Your mother wanted to know if Mr. Dodger will be joining us for dinner.” Oh hell no - like I’d make it through dinner with her dad and many sharp eating utensils. Herald glanced down at me and shook his head.

Okay - NINJA.

He nodded.

STOP.

Emma turned to me with a question in her eyes. “I do not know. Would you like?”

“A final meal,” I guess only I heard Herald murmur. I stared at him for a couple seconds and he nodded. I looked back at Emma, but shook my head.

“No…I…no. Thanks, though.”

Herald made a *humph* sound, sticking his nose into the air. He turned to leave. “Very well then. What a shame, though…” He stopped in the doorway. “What a shame.” He disappeared.

I’m scared. Hold me.

“He is right,” I heard from beside me. My head jerked to see Emma, staring down at her goddamn little, munchkin hands in her goddamn lap.

“Huh?”

“You should stay for dinner.”

I raised a brow. “You…want me to?” I wasn’t really expecting her to want me to stay. She must want me to die. I get it. No longer cute.

She started to nod, glancing up for a split second. “Yes.” She has really dark blue eyes, which made her look so, so innocent…I just wanted to violate her and hurt her emotionally.

I kind of have this problem where it takes me approximately .74 seconds to go from ‘I want to hold and protect you from everything and read you a bedtime story and feed you soup when you’re ill’ to ‘I want to rip your clothes off and brutally fuck you up against a wall.’

It’s one of my downfalls.

Oh, wait. What were we talking about? Oh, right.

“…really?”

She nodded slowly again before suddenly turning sharply to face the computer.

“We should start working.” Oh, yeah. I forgot that was what we were supposed to be doing.

“O-okay.”

So we did. And it was boring. She seriously did most of the work and I feel really bad. She looked everything up, wrote a lot of the stuff down, told me what to write so I could get credit for something. I just couldn’t focus long enough to do much of the research, what with my stupid boy hormones going haywire and the increasing need to piss.

I eventually got up the courage to ask where the bathroom was.

“We have bathroom on left side of hall, second door passed stairs.” I think it’s kind of funny how she only messes her word structure/placement up sometimes, and a lot of those times it sounds like she’s trying to be ghetto. But it works for her.

I peeked my head out of the doorway. I expected to be traumatized by Herald suddenly standing there, but he wasn’t. I stepped out slowly.

Ever so slowly into the hallway...must...not...make...sound...

"Mr. Dodger, do you need any help?" The inexplicably good at disappearing butler's shadow was visible before he was and I ran like hell to where Emma had claimed the bathroom was and closed the door behind me.

I almost sunk into the door, heart beating a million beats per minute. Oh Jesus. That was terrifying -…oh. I wasn’t in the bathroom. At all.

I remember thinking to myself when I saw all these doors that I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them ended up being like a Fifty Shades of Grey room. You know…sex dungeon. BDSM sex dungeon.

And look what I’ve found - a room full of guns and weaponry.

My Fight or Flight instincts kicked in even more and I almost peed everywhere.

Yeah, I know. Got all your hopes up with thinking ‘omg SEX LAIR?’ and then smashed them down, but I mean…this is equally as scary, in my opinion. Her dad could literally kill me. He has all the needed tools.

I quickly got out of there as fast as I could, colliding into Herald’s chest. I stammered out a sorry, sprinting to the third door, praying this one was it. It was.

Slamming the door behind me, I skidded to a stop in front of the toilet and unzipped my pants.

Ahh…relief. Seriously, I felt so much better. I’m pretty sure if you stood outside the door, you’d just hear moaning. Herald is probably hella confused right now.

Well, now I’m ready to die. It’d be so uncomfortable to perish with a full bladder.

I washed my hands before exiting. Herald wasn’t standing there but I still sprinted back to where Emma was. I don’t know why but I felt really safe when I was with her, like that little tiny thing could protect me, or at least I wasn’t alone when Herald ninja’d in and out of thin air.

We finished our notes a lot faster than expected and just talked for a while.

I found out why her mom has an almost all American accent but Emma doesn’t. And for those of you who care, it’s because her dad is originally from Italy, spent all his life there, so his accent is thick as fuck apparently, her mom used to live in Italy, but moved to America, then took a vacation from America to there, they met, fell in love, banged, popped out a kid, lived there for long ass time, then moved here.

Yeah.

And her dad apparently talks to Emma all the time in Italian and that (according to her) made her accent stick longer than it should’ve.

I don’t know. Just thought I’d tell you.

“Well,” I stood up and stretched and ooh damn. It felt nice - woah hello. There was something touching my stomach. I stopped mid-stretch, returning to normal standing position and looked down to see it was Emma’s hand.

Uh…heh, hey. I guess when I stretched my shirt went up and she seized the opportunity.

Well, go her.

She stayed like that for a few seconds, fingers tracing my stomach, her eyes glued. I expected drool to come trailing out. I was thinking twice about interrupting her because it felt kind of nice.

Perhaps maybe I should even guide her hand a bit further down - BOOM sex joke.

I couldn’t help but begin to smirk. “Having fun?”

She immediately froze. Her eyes grew to the size of golf balls; a deep red covered her cheeks. She slowly let her eyes curve up to mine. Then her hands recoiled away like she had touched fire. She held them in her lap, pinned under each other. Her mind completely comprehended what she had just done and she gasped.

“Oh, God. I am so sorry…I…I don’t know why I…I I’m sorry.” She dropped her head in her hands, making weird whimpering noises to herself.

Is it bad I just wanted to laugh? And I did?

“It’s alright,” I said, putting a hand onto her shoulder as a way of saying that 'if I’m alright with touching you after that, you didn’t ruin anything'. Before I could stop it, the words came dashing out. “More than 95% of my thoughts for the past hour have been of having sex with you. You just touched me. What you did wasn’t anywhere as bad as what I would’ve done to you.”

“…Oh.” Her hands went to her cover her heart. “That’s so flattering.”

I shrugged. “Well, you know. I speak from the heart.”

We took like ten seconds to just smile at each other until she remembered I was getting up for a reason.

“Erm, what did you mean? You were going to say something?”

It took me a couple seconds to also remember but I did. I pointed my thumb towards the door. “I should get going. My mom gets off work soon and I didn’t exactly tell her I was going somewhere after school.”

“Oh. Well, I will walk you to the door, then.” So she did. And then, goddangit. I was trying not to let this happen. We both reached for the door handle at the same time, and neither of us moved our hands away. My eyes automatically outlined her lips. They trembled.

I wondered what her moan sounded like. I wanted to be the first to hear it. The thought of her little untouched body - everything would be new to her. I wanted to be the first to touch her.

If she was any other girl, I wouldn’t even think twice about it. I’d take advantage of her right here, right now, and took her back upstairs. That’s how I knew she was different. Something about her…there’s just something about her.

Maybe it’s her stupid ninja of a butler.

He teleported himself behind her at some point during my time of thinking with my bag in his grip. “Leaving, sir?” Emma wasn’t prepared for him this time, so she jumped with a gasp, but didn’t say anything.

I eyed my bag. “Yep.” He lifted it out for me, and I took it, saying, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sir. It really is a shame you won’t stay for dinner -” He stopped abruptly, staring at Emma. I looked, too, and saw what I’m sure he was seeing. Her cheeks were insanely red again.

“Ms. Emilia, are you alright?” he said to her with concern before the light bulb sprang on over his head. His eyes glanced from her to me, then back to her, then to me.

“Did I interrupt something?”

I was going to answer with a casual no, but was reminded of something. I thought about when he first made an appearance, I said he’d probably teleport in when/if Emma and I were doing the dirty. That reminded me of what Emma had said earlier. That she would show me her room if she had time. She never showed me. I really wanted to remind her of it.

But when I opened my mouth - not even knowing what I was planning to say - Emma’s opened instead.

“He was just leaving.”

The look on what’s-his-face’s face showed that he knew there was more to it, but he didn’t voice it.

“So soon?” I’ve been here for like an hour. That’s long enough.

Emma nodded. “Yup. His mother wants him home now.”

“Ah, I see.”

We all just stood there. I stared down at my feet feeling the butler dudes eyes on me. I wanted to rip his judgmental eyes off and throw them.

“Well,” I ended up saying a bit too loudly and full of annoyance, causing Emma’s head to fly up in surprise. I hitched a thumb towards the door. “I’m gonna get going. My mom’s inevitably bound to be having a conniption.”

And she was like alright and then I left. The reason I didn’t go into unnecessary details is because the author is having writer’s block. (Author: Oops.)

Later gater hater.

-

I stopped off by a local pharmacy. Had to, uh, pick some stuff up. Well, ngl, it’s condoms. I’m fresh-out.

I let out a battle cry and ran into the store…after waiting for the doors to open.

I ran inside and looked around. Wow, this place is dead. There are like ten people in here. Then, for some reason, all confidence left me and I sheepishly headed for the aisle that kept all the condoms, pregnancy tests, binkies, baby food, and tooth paste.

There was a man and a woman in the aisle. I awkwardly walked passed them with a quick ‘whaddup hoe’ and faced the condoms. Then I quickly turned around to face the baby food. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see if they were still there.

Yup. But they weren’t looking at me. Well – scratch that. The lady was giving me the evil eye.

Well, it looks like she knows why I'm in this aisle. Oh chill. I’ll probably just end up blowing them up and crying in fear every time they pop like I almost always do.

Oh - BITCH. Look away or I will roundhouse kick your ass.

I'm guessing she heard my thoughts because she looked away. Or it was because I made the ‘Bitch, please,’ face. I sighed and let my eyes wander through the different kinds of baby food. Then I quickly turned around, getting a quick glance at the different varieties of condoms before looking at the binkies.

With my ninja-like reflexives, I turned abruptly, grabbed a box of Trojan condoms and bolted out of that aisle, entering a line of three.

One by one, the line got shorter and then it was just me and the cashier. And it was the same chick that always seems to be working the counter whenever I come in here to buy ahem - the stuff.

Hello, not-so-old and not-so-friend friend.

I looked down at the box and casually shoved it onto the countertop. And then Miss Cashier silently judged me. HEY, I said DON’T do that.

“Already?” she said in disbelief. “Weren’t you in here last week buying the same thing?” And she thinks I’m a skank. Which I am. Just not lately. k cool.

“I, uh…” searched for an excuse. Went with, “Got bored.” -FACEPALM- Not what I was going for.

Her eyes widened slightly as her brows rose. “O-kay, then. At least you’re being honest - uh, seven-twenty-four,” she spoke uncomfortably, dropping what them into a bag and then chucked it at me.

“Thanks,” I muttered, slumping ten bucks in front of her. She mumbled something and then opened up her cash register, traded some money, and then handed it back to me.

“Thanks,” I muttered again and then ran out of there before I pissed my pants. I make the best impressions.

I smirked to myself. Can’t wait to use ‘em. For some reason I wanted to call Emma and tell her about the success, but then remembered I didn’t have her number. Darn.

When I got to the front door of my humble abode, it flew open. I almost screamed shrilly, then I saw who opened it and stared in confusion. It wasn’t any member of my family - that I knew of. I hope not. She’s super yummy looking. Blond hair, blue eyes. Hitler’s favorite.

“Am I at the wrong house?” I asked, glancing at the address number. It was definitely ours. I gave a wary look to the chick, then darted my eyes passed her. “Mom?” I called into the building.

A smile spread across the chick's face, but before she could say anything, my mom popped up behind her.

“Dodger,” she greeted, “you remember Natalie, don’t you?” I took a couple seconds to stare at the supposed Natalie. I slowly shook my head, trying to match the name and face with a memory.

“No.” Not at all. Sadly.

“Oh, well, isn’t that just sad,’’ my mom said with a shake of her head. “You two used to be best friends. I can’t believe you don’t remember her.” Well, we obviously weren’t that good of friends then, now were we?

“Sorry?” I offered an apology though I didn’t feel bad at all.

“Well, anyway,” She put an arm around Natalie’s shoulder. “She and her father are moving into the house right across from ours. Isn’t that great?” Despite her just telling me which house they were going to be living in now, I turned and looked across the street, trying to decide which of the houses they were allegedly moving into. I’m gonna guess it’s the one with the moving truck in the driveway, boxes piling in the walkway, big pile of dog shit in the yard.

I turned back to them. “Cool.” I nodded my head towards our house. “Can I, uh, go now?” Thinking Natalie and my mom would get butthurt by me not wanting to interact anymore, I added, “I have to pee.”

“Dodger!” my mother exclaimed, shaking her head in dismay. “Fine. But hurry. We’re going over to help them move in.”

Of course we are. And I bet she’s going to try to ‘set us up’. That’s always what happens in stories like this. New neighbor = fall in love with them, huh? And I’m beginning to remember stuff about Natalie now, and us as children. My mom devoted her life to getting us together. That’s probably why I don’t remember her at all; I blocked it out.

“Got it.” I pushed my way passed them, heading towards the hallway. I heard my mom say something to Natalie, then Natalie laugh and say something back, then the sound of them going out the door. I walked pass the bathroom and to my room. I joined my dog on my bed.

I managed to hide out in my room until I got a phone call from my mom. Apparently when she said ‘we’ were going over to help them move in, she actually did mean we as in me and her.

Well, dang.

I took my time getting over there. No one was outside, so I hesitated even more. What if her dad or someone walks out while I’m gathering boxes and sprays me in the eyes with mace, thinking I’m trying to rob them. But just as I stepped into the street, Natalie came waltzing out of her house.

Once she spotted me, she said to me, “Your mom is having a bitch-fit right now - has been for the past, like, ten minutes. What happened, did you fall in?” She shot a snooty grin, grabbing a big box out of the back of the truck that had ‘NAT’S CDs’ marked on it in big letters.

“Was that a joke?” I asked, feigning offense, reaching their yard. “I’ll have you know I didn’t survive the fall. You’re talking to a ghost right now with a grudge. Watch out.”

She laughed, propping the box up with her knee. “Ah, you still got the same sense of humor after all these years. Kudos to you.” And then is when I start to feel bad.

“Oh…so you do remember me?”

She nodded, inhaling sharply. “Yup. But it’s okay that you don’t. Really. It was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, it’s been like a minute.”

“Oh, my God!” her laugh belted into the air. “Those jokes, too? Using complete opposite measures of time in place of the appropriate ones? You really haven’t changed at all.”

“And…is that a good thing?”

“For now,” she said with a snarky smirk. She glanced back down at the huge box in her grasp, then looked back up at me, smiling. “Can you help me?”

I scoffed, showing her the palm of my hand, “More like can you help me,” then walked towards her house.

After letting out a short laugh, she called after me, “Uh, gee thanks, Riley.” I threw a peace sign at her.

“Anytime, Snyder.” I really hopped that was her last name. It sounded right, like it went well with her first.

I stopped walking when she said, “Hey, you remembered my last name!”

I turned to face her with my hands over my heart. “Well, you remembered mine.” She flashed another smile before lifting the box up slightly.

“That’s what bros do. Bros also help each other out - and this is heavy as the f-word. My arms are going numb.” I was going to tell her to deal with it when she suddenly lost grip of the cardboard box, but caught it before it went booming down. Not entirely sure whether she either was doing that on purpose or really wasn’t kidding, I went over in surrender and took the box from her. I swear it weighed about five-hundred pounds.

She massaged her arms, thanking me. “Alright, well, follow me. I’ll lead the way to my room.” As soon as we got there, my arms gave way and I clumsily dropped ALL of her things and they crashed on the floor with a big explosion.

"Uhmmm...sorry,” I mumbled, feeling my heartbeat in my arms. She gave a small frown but waved it away.

"It's okay," she said, grabbing a pair of scissors off one of the other many boxes scattered around her room. She jabbed one of the blades into the taped-shut side of the box, ripping it open. She pulled several CD cases out from different layers, inspecting each one, and then sighed in relief.

“No harm done.”

I felt a little better, leaning back on the doorframe. “Well, good - is that whole thing really filled with CDs? I didn’t think CDs weighed a zillion pounds.”

She chuckled, pulling several more CDs out, tapping her knuckle against something in the box. “No. I have, like, three different CD players in here, too.”

‘“Ah, well, that’s not at all excessive.”

“Well, see, this one - its radio works; the others’ don’t. And this one’s the only one with a CD player that doesn’t skip. But this one right here, it has an phone port so I can charge and listen to my phone.”

“Why not just buy one that actually has all those things and works?”

She paused a moment and shrugged. “I’m blonde, duh. Gotta stay true to my stereotype.”

I laughed, nodding. “Oh, it all makes sense now. That’s so genius,” I said referring to what she had last said. “Anytime I do something stupid or ‘rebellious’ and they ask me why, I’ll just go ‘Gotta stay true to my stereotype.’”

She laughed again, sitting on a short dresser near her door where I was. “I’m glad I could help you out with an excuse. My job here is done.”

“You did good,” I congratulated her.

“So that’s your stereotype?” she said seconds later. “Stupid and rebellious actions?”

I nodded pretending to be so proud. “Yup, hit the nail on the head. Is that not what you thought?”

“Oh, no. Well, kind of.” She stopped to smile. “But, hey, not my fault. It’s society…which I am a part of.”

I laughed again. “Oops.”

We went on to talk for a while, going back and forth from her room to the moving truck numerous times. I can see why we were ‘best friends.’ She’s a lot cooler than I would like to admit. Partially because of my mom and her evil plans. I didn’t want to like her like my mom wants me to. Plus…I…I don’t know. I feel like she’s not the one I should end up being with - for however long.

I don’t know how to explain it, but I just feel like I’m supposed to wait it out for someone else.

Oh gee. I wonder who, though. I wonder who. -_-

We ended up staying there, helping out, until about eight or so. We went home and I locked
myself in my room and fell asleep to the TV.