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Emerson tossed the newspaper carelessly onto the coffee table with a frustrated sigh. He kicked off his boots and dropped onto the couch, rubbing his brow. He didn’t even have a moment to relax before someone was pounding on the door.

“Open up, Blakemore! I know you’re in there.”

Rolling his eyes as he got back onto his aching feet, Emerson shuffled across the room, dreading having to face the man on the other side of his apartment door. He inhaled a deep breath and braced himself before opening it.

Camlin Edwards was a massive lump of a human, and everything about him was slimy. He was almost two feet shorter than Emerson, but two feet wider in every other direction. His hair was always slicked back with an abysmal amount of gel, making it look like he’d never had a shower in his life. He smelled like it too. Disgusting. Emerson did his best to keep his face straight as he was overwhelmed by the stench of sweat and buffalo wings.

“What’s up, Cam?”

“Don’t give me that crap,” he said, his chest heaving with noisy wheezes. The guy got winded just by being on his feet. “Rent was due yesterday.”

“Yeah, about that…” Emerson rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding the gaze of Camlin’s beady eyes. “I meant to ask if I could get an extension. I just got laid off.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Blakemore! This is the third time I’ve had to wait for ya!” The landlord threw his fat arms in the air, shaking his nasty head. Emerson was surprised that bugs didn’t come flying out of him like the Boogeyman in The Nightmare Before Christmas. “This ain’t a fuckin’ homeless shelter, and I ain’t no charity worker! You get me that money by Friday or your ass is outta here!”

Emerson held his breath while he watched Camlin storm off down the hall. The guy had huge sweat stains under his arms and down his back. Once he heard his footsteps thumping down the stairs, Emerson closed his door and coughed a few times. He could practically taste how grimy his landlord was.

His mind was reeling when he went back to the couch and lay down, staring up at the old plaster ceiling. Friday? How the hell was he going to come up with eight-hundred bucks in three days?

He tried to get his thoughts together, but then his phone started ringing. At least he’d been able to afford that bill. He let out a long breath before he answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Em… How you doin’?”

“Hi, Dad.”

Emerson swallowed hard. What would his father say if he knew he had been kicked out of school last semester? How would he react if he knew Emerson was using up the tuition money to live in a shit apartment near campus? He hated lying to his parents after everything they’d done for him, but he hated to disappoint them even more.

“Things are fine,” he lied. “I’m just relaxing on my day off.”

“So, you’re free right now?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Wanna meet me at that diner in town? I’m buying.”

“Uh… sure.” Emerson rubbed his face. The thought of having to face his father filled the pit of his stomach with a deep sense of dread. He just had to get through breakfast, right? Or maybe if he told his dad the truth, he’d just stab him in the neck with a fork and put him out of his misery. Emerson chuckled softly at the morbid thought.

“Great,” Dad said. “I’ll see you in about an hour.”

Emerson sat up with a groan after his father had hung up. He tossed his phone onto the coffee table, on a pile of newspapers. He eyed the “Help Wanted” ads he had left there, but shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Odd jobs he found in the local newspaper wouldn’t be good enough to get him a stable flow of rent money.

“Aren’t you hungry, Em?”

Emerson just shrugged in response to his father. He had been pushing his scrambled eggs around on his plate for the last ten minutes, trying to think of some way to earn the rent money by Friday. He couldn’t possibly ask Dad for help—he was supposed to be living on campus and going to school.

“Emerson Michael Blakemore, look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

Emerson cringed at the sound of his full name. His father only called him that when he was upset, but when Emerson finally looked up, Dad’s piercing blue eyes were wide with concern, not anger. His blond hair was turning gray, and Emerson wondered how much of that had to do with him.

“I’m okay, Dad,” he lied. “Really.”

“I know you’re not in school anymore.”

Emerson’s heart dropped at his father’s words. How could he possibly have known? Emerson had been trying to keep up the ruse for three months at that point, and his parents hadn’t said anything about it.

“Your school counselor called yesterday, asking if you were ever going to reconsider returning,” Dad explained as he sipped on his coffee. He was surprisingly calm for someone who had just found out his son had been blowing tuition money on rent and other things other than school. “Your mother isn’t happy. Em, what happened? Why didn’t you tell us?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Why would I?” Emerson lowered his gaze as he let out a half-hearted laugh. The situation really wasn’t funny, but it was just his response to being nervous. “I’m twenty-four years old, Dad. I should be able to handle my own life by now, right?”

“Where are you living, Em? What about work? How can you afford—”

“Really, Dad. I’m fine.”

“And what are you going to do now that the tuition money has run out?”

Emerson swallowed hard. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his father that he’d just been fired, and he certainly couldn’t tell him that he was on the brink of eviction. He had wasted thousands of his parents’ dollars—he couldn’t ask for more. He needed to fix his own shit.

“Em, you know you can just come home. We haven’t touched your room.”

Emerson considered the offer for a moment, but immediately put it to the back of his mind. He thought back on every time he’d been kicked out of grade school, every night he’d been brought home in a police car, every behavioral meeting, every mental health institution and drug respite program. No… as easy as it would have been to simply leech off his parents for the rest of his life, Emerson just couldn’t stand the thought.

“No, Dad. I need to do this on my own. You and Mom have been supporting me my whole life, through every bit of bullshit that I never should have put you through. Not once did I ever thank you for it or even try to follow through with any of the things I promised you. I need to grow up now. It’s time for me to get my shit together, without your help.”

Emerson’s father let out a long sigh as he took his wallet out to pay for breakfast. He also slid a few twenties across the table.

“At least take this so I know that you’re feeding yourself.”

“Dad…”

“Em, please. Your mother and I are worried about you. Just take it.”

Not wanting to argue with his dad over sixty bucks, Emerson reluctantly took the money off the table and tucked it into his pocket. Now all he needed was like seven-hundred more dollars and he’d be golden.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“If you ever change your mind about coming home, don’t hesitate to call, Em.”

After his father had left, Emerson wandered around town. He couldn’t go back to his tiny apartment—he needed air. There was too much on his mind to be suffocated by his greasy walls. Soon, they wouldn’t even be his walls anymore.

The day was cold and dark, with clouds blocking out the sun. The overcast sky made the leaves on the trees look brown and dirty, when they were usually orange and vibrant. Emerson could see his breath as he walked, and others rushed in and out of cars and buildings as quickly as they could to shield themselves from the chill. It didn’t bother him, though. He had too much on his mind to even think about how the cold felt.

He found himself standing at the black metal gateway of Cicada Hollow University, his old school. His breath came out in small puffs in the cold autumn air, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He watched the students rushing between classes.

A bright pink scarf caught Emerson’s eye, and he inhaled a sharp breath. He took a step back away from the gate, but he had already been seen. He heard the thick Italian accent before he even realized what was happening.

“Emerson Blakemore, you big jerk!”

He barely had a moment to react before the wind was knocked out of him. She threw herself into his arms and he got a face full of curly brown hair. Emerson was forced to wrap his arms around her waist to stop them both from toppling over, and when he tried to put her down, she kept her arms firmly around his neck. He groaned in pain as he was forced to bend over forward to her height—she was over a foot shorter than him. It made hugging her nearly impossible without either him lifting her off the ground or nearly falling over her.

“Lucy, I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” she said with a laugh, finally letting go of him. Her bright amber eyes shined up at him as she sat on the low brick wall beside the gateway. She looked happy, as always. Nothing ever seemed to get her down. It was infectious too, and Emerson couldn’t help but smile when she was around. “Emerson Blakemore, where you been? Everyone miss you! When are you come back? Semester is just starting, you have time still.”

“I don’t think so,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t you have to get to class?”

“Nope!” She grinned at him as she leapt to her feet. She entwined her arm with his, pulling him along down the sidewalk. “I’m done for rest of day. Which means you and me spend time together. You know today is, yes?”

“Let me think about it,” he said, and Lucy pouted, pulling her scarf up over her nose. “First, I’ve got to pick up my severance check from Sal’s Market.”

“Emerson Blakemore!” Lucy slapped his arm, but she wasn’t very intimidating with a fuzzy pink scarf covering half her face. “What you fired for this time?”

“I told some grumpy lady to piss off.”

Lucy sighed and shook her head, her curly hair bouncing around her shoulder.

“You are hopeless, you know this?”

Walking arm-in-arm with Lucy, Emerson couldn’t help but have a smile on his face. He probably looked like a big idiot, but he couldn’t care less. Lucy made him feel normal, able to forget all the bullshit for a short while. He wasn’t worried about work or school or rent—it was all about her. While his life was Hell, she was a little bit of Heaven to him.

He also loved the way she said his full name. It was something she’d been doing since they had met, when she’d been learning how to speak English. It was still very much broken, but much better since the last time he’d seen her.

When they got to Sal’s Market, Lucy waited outside for him. He found himself glancing out the window at her a few times, watching her fidget in place to keep warm. It was warmer in the market, but she had refused to go inside. It was all right though—he wouldn’t be long, and he had something he needed to do.

“I was wonderin’ when ya’d be comin’ back,” Sal said, leaning on his arms on the counter. He was almost as tall as Emerson, but much thinner and older. “Look, kid, I’m sorry about what happened. I shouldn’t’a yelled at ya in front of a store full o’ people. You’re a good worker. I’d be willin’ to rehire ya, but it’s gonna have to wait a few months.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emerson said with a shrug. He glanced out the window again, and Lucy smiled as their gazes met. He smiled and waved at her before she turned away, returning to her little dance to keep warm. “I’m just here to pick up my last check.”

“Sure. Want me to cash it for ya?”

“Please.”

“So, who’s that outside. Ya girlfriend or somethin’?” Sal glanced towards the window, but Lucy had her back to them. “She’s pretty.”

“No,” Emerson said with a quiet laugh, lowering his gaze. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Blakemore, do ya know how weird it is seein’ a big guy like you blushin’? What’s stoppin’ ya?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Sal, I’m kind of a trainwreck. And Lucy… well… she’s perfect.”

“Maybe she can whip ya into shape, kid,” Sal said, handing a small stack of cash to him. “Try to make it last, alright?”

“How much are those?” Emerson asked, pointing over Sal’s shoulder to a display behind him. Sal raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"The red ones are six bucks.”

“I’ll take them.”

Lucy had her scarf wrapped around her face again, and her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, dancing side to side. Her eyes widened when Emerson finally came out of the market.

“What took you so long? I’m freeze out here!”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Emerson said. “Close your eyes.”

“Emerson Blakemore, I’m about freezing to death, and you play games?”

“Would you just do it?”

Lucy let out a noisy sigh and closed her eyes. To make sure she wasn’t peeking, he waved his hand in her face a few times, then held out what he’d bought.

“Okay,” he told her, “now you can look.”

When she opened her eyes, she just stared at the roses for a moment. Her eyes moved up to meet his gaze and he smirked as she took them from him.

“Happy birthday, Lucy.”

“You big jerk!” Lucy punched him in the shoulder, and he burst out laughing. “You make me thinking you forget!”

“I can’t believe you thought I would forget your birthday.”

“I hate you,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I hate you too,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist. She shrieked when he lifted her off the ground and threw her over his shoulder. He headed down the road, away from Sal’s Market while she kicked and squirmed.

“Emerson Blakemore, you put me down now!”

“Nope,” he said, gripping her legs so she couldn’t kick him.

A sharp pain shot through his side, and he nearly dropped Lucy. She ran a few feet away from him, fixing her hair and scarf while he clutched his side. His shirt was wet, and he stared at her, wide-eyed.

“You bit me!”

“Well, I tell you to put me down,” she said breathlessly.

Emerson ran after her and she bolted off down the sidewalk in a fit of laughter. It wasn’t hard for him to catch up—his legs were twice as long. She shrieked as he wrapped his arms around her, and they both laughed as he hugged her tightly.

“That’s no fair,” Lucy said, twisting around in his arms to face him. Her smile faded, and his went along with it. “Emerson Blakemore, why you don’t come back to school?”

“Don’t worry about me. You focus on getting that law degree and then you can bail me out when I get into trouble.”

“But you in trouble now, yes?”

“I’m fine, Lucy,” Emerson lied. At least he was good at something, even though he hated lying. It was her birthday, and he wasn’t going to ruin it with his problems.

“I know you lie,” she said, but didn’t press the subject. She still clutched the roses in her arms, although they were a bit crushed from messing around with him. “Thank you for roses, Emerson Blakemore. You remember my favorite.”

“I remember everything about you.”

Lucy blushed a bit and pulled her scarf up to hide it.

Emerson didn’t have the courage to ever tell her how he really gelt about her, although he was pretty sure she already knew. It wasn’t like it had been a secret at school when she had first moved into town from Italy.

He had been completely enamored with her from the moment he saw her olive skin and amber eyes, even though she didn’t speak any English back then. Once he’d spent enough time around her, she slowly started picking it up, along with her English as a Second Language class.

He wished that he wasn’t such a wreck, otherwise he might have kissed her right then and there. But they were too different, and Emerson knew he would just drag her down and destroy her like he did to everything else in his life.

He would just have to be content with simply knowing her. He put on a smile for her, but he never had to fake it for long. Her happiness was contagious.

“Alright, Lucy, let’s get out of the cold. We’ll get some tea and cake for your birthday. After that, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

“It’s like reading my mind, Emerson Blakemore!”