Dead on Arrival, Chapter 2 (part 1)

Chapter 2

Two months had passed since then. I hadn’t gone over to Emily’s house since then, constantly dodging her relentless invitations. I always used some half-assed excuse to get out of being in that vulnerable situation again. And anyway, she said I scared her the first time. Why did she want me to come back in the first place? Despite Asher's constant pestering, I hadn’t told her about moving either.

Back in January, I sent in a decent amount of college applications and I got my results back a week ago. I had applied to most UCs and some in-state and out-of-state universities. Rejected from all but, ironically, Colorado State University.

Moving day was getting closer and closer. March 2. In just three weeks, my whole life I had built here would be ripped out like a cavity. My parents had everything sorted, from getting the keys for our new house to pre-booking a U-Haul van. They seemed strangely okay with leaving, which made a little bit of sense. My dad was happy with moving because he was getting a new job, and my mom was happy too. She didn’t have many friends here, but she had some close relatives in Colorado. I, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited as my parents were. If I didn’t tell Emily soon, it was very likely that we’d never see each other again. She’d go to college and I’d go to Colorado and we’d just lose touch over the years, never to speak again.

My phone rang. Speak of the devil.

“Emily.”

“Hi, Davey.” She giggled on the other side of the phone.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Why not? Just cause your mom calls you that doesn’t mean I can’t.”

She had overheard my mom yell “DAVEY!” during one of our calls a couple weeks ago, and she wasn’t planning to let it go anytime soon.

“Anyway. What’s up?”

“I have very good news to tell you.’

“Tell me.”

“I got into Stanford! Among some other universities, too. But the big deal here is STANFORD!”

I didn’t respond. Stanford? She’d stay here and go to Stanford, and I’d leave her behind. you’ll never see her again. never.

“David?”

“Sorry, hi. Stanford? Really? I’m so happy for you!” It felt like I was lying, somehow.

“Thank you! I didn’t think I’d actually get accepted, though. I applied just for the hell of it.”

She stayed silent for a little bit. “Hey, Davey?”

“Yes, Em?”

“Do you wanna come over? I wanna celebrate with you. Some cake. A movie. I’ll even let you buy me a gift.”

I was seriously considering it now. The time we had left together was limited. If she’s invited me this many times, it must mean that I never scared her. She wanted me to come over. you’re gonna scare her again. I’ll take the chance. she hates- Shut up. I’m going.

“Yes. I’d love to.”

“REALLY?”

“Yes, really. When should I be there?”

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW.”

“Ask nicer.”

“Sorry. PLEASE come over right now.”

“That’s better. I’ll see you there.”

I hung up. What the hell just happened? She wasn’t even mad at me for dodging her for months. Does she actually like me back? It wasn’t possible, right? It couldn’t be. I forced myself to stop thinking about it. It did nothing but stress me out, and I didn’t want to be anxious when I was with her.

I got my keys and told my parents I was going to Emily’s, and they had complete opposite reactions. My mom was pleasantly surprised, while my dad told me not to forget about protection, barely looking up from his phone. My mom hit his arm and told him it wasn’t that kind of hangout.

“Emily’s? You haven’t gone over in a while.”

“I’m going over today.”

“What changed?”

“I feel comfortable again.”

“Have you told her about moving?”

I was considering it. It would probably be too late if I told her after I packed up and left. “I might tell her today.”

“Really?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, tell her, you know, before we move.”

“I will.”

I left the house, got in my car, and sat there for a couple moments. I was debating whether or not I should tell her today. Telling her as soon as I got there felt wrong to me. Telling her when I was about to leave didn’t feel right either. The only thing that was somewhat acceptable was telling her sometime during the hangout. I thought up scenario after scenario on the drive there and wasn’t satisfied with a single one. As I knocked on her door, the same anxiety I had felt on our first hangout began to take hold. She came to the door and I could swear the world froze for an instant.

She had a black dress on, her hair in a messy updo, and cherry-red lipstick to match her cherry-colored nails. She hated being too fancy, so she had on old, worn Nike sneakers, which made me feel a little better about my outfit. I was wearing a black hoodie and dark-wash jeans, and I felt incredibly underdressed in comparison.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, dummy.”

I hadn’t even realized I was just staring at her. I composed myself the best I could and tried to make conversation.

“Hi.” Wow. That was awkward, even for me.

“Hi.” She looked me up and down with a tenderness in her eyes, the same way she had looked at me that day. “Lead the way, Davey.”

We walked towards my car, shoulder to shoulder, fingers brushing together occasionally.

“It’s cold tonight, isn’t it?” She rubbed her hands together.

“I have a jacket in my car you can borrow.”

“Aw, thank you. I appreciate it.” She flashed me a stunning smile, the kind of smile that I could stare at forever, but I was forced to look away so she wouldn’t see me blushing.

I looked down at the ground and unlocked the car. She got in the passenger seat while I fished in the backseat for the jacket. I found it a couple moments later and gave it to her.

She turned it over and inspected it. “How long has this been back there?”

“A couple months, maybe.” I closed the backseat and got in the driver’s side.

“There’s a little hole in the sleeve.”

“You might try being grateful for the warm jacket I just gave to you.”

“I appreciate it very much,” she said with a laugh. She folded the jacket, put it in her lap, and turned and met my eyes. “Guess where we’re going.”

“Some expensive five-star hotel.”

She shook her head no. “Try again.”

“Is it somewhere fancy?”

“Nope.”

“Is it somewhere nearby?”

“Yep.”

“I’m stumped.”

“You suck at guessing. We’re going to the movie theater at Pacific Commons.”

“Cinemark? You wore a fancy dress to go to Cinemark?”

“Wrong again. I wore a fancy dress to go to Cinemark with you.”

“Oh.” I blushed worse than last time and I prayed she didn’t notice. I pulled out of her driveway and took a left. We drove in comfortable silence for a while, and I sneaked the occasional sideways glance at her.

As I merged onto the freeway, she tapped my shoulder. “Put some music on.”

“You do it. I’m driving.”

“Gimme your phone.”

“It’s right here.”

She grabbed my phone out of the cup holder in the center console. “What’s the password?”

“122124.”

She punched the numbers in, then looked at me, puzzled. “December 21, 2024?”

“What about it?”

“Your password.”

“I know. What about it?”

“Isn’t that the first time you came over to my house?”

“It is.”

“You remember that day?”

“Of course I do.”

She lightly punched my arm and looked down at her lap. I think she was blushing too. “You sentimental dumbass.”

“I can change the password if you want.”

She looked back at me and spoke softly. “But I love the password.”

I took a right onto Exit 15. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Then I won’t change it.”

She smiled and looked down again. “Good.”

“Weren’t you going to play music?”

“I was. Well, the theater’s here anyway. We’ll listen to my music on the way back.”

“You have good music taste, right?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

“Will I?” I turned into the Cinemark parking lot.

“Most definitely. No one has better music taste than me.”

“I doubt that.” I parked and we started walking towards the theater. “What movie are we seeing?”

She put on the jacket I gave her. “The Fault in Our Stars. They’re rereleasing it today for its anniversary, I think. You’ve never seen it, so I wanted to show you what you’re missing out on.”

“I’ve read the book.”

“The movie’s different.”

“It’s the same story.”

“But it’s in movie form. Just shut up and be ready to cry. A lot.”

“I’ll buy the tickets.”

“I already bought them. I asked you out, so I bought tickets.”

She asked me out? Was this a date? How could it be a date if we weren’t dating? She must have just misspoken. Meant to say, “I invited you.” That must be it.

“Let’s go, Davey. This will become your new favorite movie.” She grabbed my hand and led me to theater number 6, opened the door, and let me go first. “Gentlemen first.”

I walked into the brightly lit auditorium. “Isn’t it ladies first?”

“It is. But, you know. You’re not a lady.”

“That’s a fair point.”

“We may be a bit early.”

“That’s okay. We won’t miss the previews.”

“Our seats are in the very top row.”

“Best seats in the house.”

“Most expensive, too.” She walked up the stairs and I followed.

“You could have asked me to pay for my half.”

“Nonsense. I have more money than you.”

“Obviously. You have a job.”

“Exactly.” She walked through the narrow row of seats until we reached ours. They were right next to each other. “Here we are.”

“Right next to each other?”

“Duh. We’re here together.”

This was beginning to feel more and more like a romantic outing, but it couldn’t be. Seats right next to each other were platonic. Friends sat next to each other all the time.

“You okay, Davey?” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Need some water? I can go get some for you.”

“No, no. I’m okay. Just felt a little dizzy.”

“You sure? It’s really no trouble, the concessions counter is right outside.”

“Really, it’s okay. Sit.” She was close enough that I could smell her lavender perfume. I could feel a panic attack coming on, but I held it back. I had to. I was thankful when the theater dimmed a minute later and the previews started playing. I looked over at her, the silver light from the screen making her stand out in the dark, making her look almost ethereal. She was focused on the previews and seemed to have forgotten about me for the moment. I started watching the screen and trying to keep a lid on my anxiety.

As the movie was beginning to start and the 20th Century FOX logo rolled on screen, I felt a shift on the armrest. Our seats shared the same one, and Emily had put her arm on the other side of it. Her slender fingers curled around the outer edge of the cushion, lightly gripping it.

The movie played on, and I got a bit bored after Gus and Hazel took their trip to Amsterdam. Out of curiosity, I glanced at her hand and it had moved closer. Ever so slightly closer to mine. My heart pounded against my chest, trying to force my hand to move. But it didn’t work. I was rooted in place, my gaze fixed on her cherry-red nails, steadily closing the distance between us. I looked up and caught a glimpse of her face. She wasn’t watching the movie. She, too, was looking down, at the unspoken romance playing out on our armrest. She met my eyes and froze. I could almost make out her shoulders rising and falling with every breath she took. Her face had a questioning look to it. It seemed to ask, “Do you want this to happen?”

Did I? Did I want to fumble in the dark for this light switch? Would she be there to catch me if I fell? Or would I be left in pieces, like last time? oh, come on. why would this work out? be realistic. Realistic? she’s looking at you right now. she’s looking at you having a panic attack. she hates you. She does? Didn’t she ask me out? just take my word for it. she hates you. there’s nothing likable about you. How would you know? Aren’t you an extension of me? i know more than you do. i see the reality that you can’t see. We see the same reality. You’re just being a piece of shit and screwing me over. no i’m not. no i’m not no i’m- Shut up. you can’t just tell me- Can’t I? I will never be in this position again, and I don’t plan to let you ruin it for me. It’s now or never. I’ll never be here again. I’ll never have an opportunity like this again. I’ll never be more than friends with Emily, unless I take this chance, a blind leap into this little infinity, even though I have no idea what will happen. But maybe that’s the interesting part.