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Emily - Two Week Later from June


"Hey, wanna hang out?" Finn asked over the phone one Saturday morning.

"What time?" I said while spreading peanut on a piece of bread for breakfast, my phone gripped between my neck and my shoulders.

"A few hours later?"

"Can you be more specific?"

"Okay, erm...how about 1 p.m.? I'll pick you up after I'm done cleaning up my room."

"You? Cleaning up your room?" I laughed. Finn never was someone who would do any cleaning up voluntarily. I guess if he had a choice between cleaning his room or staying for detention for a week, he would go for detention. 

"Hey, I know how to clean up too, you know?" he said over the phone and I heard the sound of books slamming into something.

I placed another slice of bread on top of the one with peanut. "Ya, right. I bet your mum made you."

He grumbled as I heard his mother yelling at him about something. "Okay, fine, you got me. My mum made me do the clean up and now she wants me to concentrate on my cleaning. So, see you later?"

"Okay, make sure you clean every corner,"

"Yes, mum," Finn joked, which made us both laughed.

It had been half a year since we dated, Finn and I. We were making up weird dance moves to a song on the radio when he popped the question; the question of which I said yes to. Come to think of it, that double date was quite something. Ben and Rachel too, got together that night, five minutes before the clock struck twelve and the sky started to light up with all sorts of different colours. I still couldn't quite believe how four people could turn into two pairs of couples in the same night, I mean, I thought this only happens in movies, where nobody gets left out.

Rachel was right. I did feel something for Finn, a weird tingling feeling whenever he was around. I just wasn't sure if it was something more or just me overthinking it. But when he popped the question that night, I realised I really enjoy being with him, especially because he always manage to make me smile even when I didn't want to. Everything was perfect.

The only flaw to that perfect start of the year was Ben's breakup text to Rachel two months ago. 

"Good morning, Em," Dad's deep voice came as he walked into the kitchen. "Why the long face? I thought I heard someone laughing a while ago."

"Morning, dad," I sighed as I opened the fridge to get a carton of milk. "Yes, you heard right, but that was before I thought of Rachel. Anyway, will it be okay if I hang out with Finn later?"

"Sure, just remember your curfew," dad said and scrunched his eyebrows at me, a frown on his face, before getting back to spreading butter on his bread. "Is Rachel feeling any better yet?"

I shrugged, carrying my cup of milk and sandwich to the table before sitting down. "I'm not sure. She never talked much about it and she seems fine. But I know she isn't."

"That's why I said young girls like you should pull the handbrake when it comes to relationships," mum said as she joined us in the kitchen, digging for the packs of instant coffee in the cupboards. "You're fifteen, darling. You should wait for at least you're sixteen or seventeen to started dating."

"Mum," I whined. 

She never liked the idea of me and Finn being together, the only reason we could stay together is because dad managed to convince mum it wasn't a big deal. On addition to that, he made me promise to never come home any later than ten when we were out; that I was never allowed to close the door to my room if he was over and they even gave me "the talk" about sex, making sure that I would say no if Finn ever tried to bring it up.

As if I don't know about the consequences.

"Don't whine at me. I just don't want you to get hurt by your so call love," she said as she brought two cups of coffee to the table. "Just look at Rachel now."

"Finn isn't Ben, mum. It doesn't mean Finn would do the same just because they're friends. Anyway, he treats me really nice. You and dad saw it for yourselves whenever he's here," I groused, tearing the bread apart with my teeth and chomping on it.

"He's a popular senior jock. People like him are famous for hurting naive girls like you," she said, her voice raising.

"That's stereotypical of you, mum! Not all popular senior jocks are like that, even a quiet nerd could do that too!" I started shouting too, tossing my half-eaten bread back to the plate.

Mum was being ridiculous with her stereotype of bad people again, like whenever she sees someone with piercings at weird places like their tongue, she would try to avoid them as best as she could.

"Are you raising your voice at me for a boy?" Mum said, her eyes staring right into mine.

"Honey, why don't we all relax and have our breakfast?" Dad said as he shifted into peacemaker mode, waving a hand for mum to sit down. "Em, your mum's just worried about you, you know that. And it's not right to raise your voice at your mum like that."

"I'm sorry," I muttered, picking up my bread again. "But dad, Finn is different. You saw how he treats me, he's not going to be like Ben."

Dad sighed and turned to look at mum, who was still looking at me with tight lips. "Honey, give Finn a chance, if anything goes wrong, the worse is Em will learn from it. Take it as an act of trust on our daughter. She can make good decisions too."

"Fine," mum sighed, her anger suddenly vanished as concern filled her face. "But promise you'll be careful, okay, Em?"

"I will, mum," I said, giving her and dad a smile before taking another bite in my sandwich.


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My car crashed in the last five seconds, throwing all my hard work at swerving land mines and other whatnots into the drain, all because of a sneeze I had six seconds ago.

"Yes! I won this time!" Finn shouted, punching his hands in the air with his controller still in his hand.

"That's not fair! I sneezed and I can't see because my eyes are closed," I complained, rolling my eyes at him. 

He had his hands down to his chest now, making waves with it like how one would do a hula dance. He stopped when he noticed I wasn't cheering along. He cocked his head to a side and scooted nearer to me, putting an arm around my shoulders.

"You're not that petty, are you?" He teased as he poked my cheek with his hand, which I responded by puffing my cheeks.

"Oh, come on, you won thrice already, can't you let me win this once?" He asked again, this time, shoving his face right in front of mine.

"What if I said no?"

He shrugged and got out of my face, scooting a little so he was facing directly to me. He wriggled his fingers at me with a smirk, his hands getting nearer to me.

"Oh no, don't you dare," I pointed a finger at him, my eyes wide as I prepared myself for the attack.

I was extremely ticklish and he knew it. Ever since he found out about that, he would threaten me with tickling. Too bad he wasn't ticklish, or else I could have my revenge, like how I always tackled Rachel and regained my victory in one of our tickling wars.

"No! Stop it!" I laughed as I tried to push his hands away. 

My vision was blurred by the tears from my eyes from all the laughing. I took deep breaths whenever I could refrain myself from laughing for a second or two. His hands were poking into my ribs when I swung my leg at him, the impact making me fall backwards to the floor. That made him stopped for a while, moaning as he checked his knee for a bruise. 

"I'm sorry, but you totally deserved that," I said once I caught my breath, still panting a little while I propped myself up on my elbows.

"Oh really?" He cocked an eyebrow at me with a smirk on his face and sprang onto me—making me fall back to the floor—before poking at my ribs again. 

"Oh my god, okay, okay. I surrender, you win! Take the trophy," I shrieked, my voice sounding like a cat getting squashed in between sofa cushions. "Oh god, I need to breathe. Give me a minute."

"Good. You should have done that in the first place," he said with a grin.

I was still laughing like a madman while I laid on the floor of his bedroom—once I started to laugh, it was hard for me to stop, which is how I always embarrassed myself in class. Whenever someone cracked a joke or did something funny in class, I would laugh along with everyone, but when the teacher demanded us to stop laughing, I was always the last one to stop, earning a glare from less humorous teachers like Mr Wayne every time—when Finn gently wiped away my tears with his thumb, allowing me to look at his chocolatey brown eyes.

He smiled at me when I finally stopped my madman laugh, reducing it to a smile that I always gave him when we met at school. "Can my trophy be a kiss from you?"

"Granted," I said, my hands reaching out to hold his face as he leant closer.

His hair brushed my ears as our lips touched. I closed my eyes, focusing on his lips. I felt the heat from his body as he came closer as if to protect me from the outside world. The world got quiet all of a sudden like we were the only ones in this world, no distractions and no random worries crossing my mind. But then I felt his hand on my thigh, slowly making its way under the hem of my dress.

I pushed him away from me as my eyes flew opened. "What are you doing?"

He got down and kissed me again, his hand still my thigh.

"Stop it," I breathed as I tried to push his hand away. "Finn, stop it!"

Tears started to flow out from my eyes again as my breath turned short and rapid. I felt my heart banging against my chest as if trying to escape from me. 

"Finn, stop it, please!" I was yelling now, my hands pushing him away as I tried to wriggle from under him. "Finn!"

Two knocks came from the door to his room and Finn's head jerked up. 

"Finn? Emily? Is everything okay in there?" Mrs Huffman—Finn's mother—called from the other side of the door. "Why is the door lock? Open the door now!"

Panic washed over his face as Mrs Huffman gave another series of knocks on the door. "Don't talk nonsense," he finally whispered sharply, his eyes staring hard at mine as I gulped.

"Coming, mum," he shouted back while pulling me up to a seating position.

My mind was racing around and around as I tried to understand what just happened. Did he just try to do what I thought he was trying to do? I looked up at him as I tried to sniffle a cry, hoping to see another face or something else through my wet lashes, anything that could explain what just happened.

"Emily? Emily, dear, why are you crying?" A soft voice asked as I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Emily, are you okay?"

I wiped a hand across my face and Mrs Huffman's face appeared in front of me. She was kneeling in front of me, her brows furrowed as she tried to get my attention. Finn was back sitting beside me again, his left hand gripped around his ankle as he rubbed it with his thumb. He looked up from his ankle to me and pursed his lips, his body looking stiff as he waited for me to talk.

"I'm fine," I said and sucked in a breath. 

"You don't look fine to me," Mrs Huffman said while gesturing for Finn to get the box of Kleenex.

"I will be," I said and forced a smile at her. 

She handed me a piece of tissue paper and sighed. "There must be a reason you're crying, dear. I heard you shouting at Finn just now. Did he bully you?" With that, Mrs Huffman narrowed her eyes at Finn.

"Mum, why would I bully her?" Finn groaned.  "Okay, maybe I did. It's like this, she almost flunked her history test on Wednesday and she's really sad about it. And then she made me promise to not tell anyone yet, especially her parents until she's ready because her parents would kill her for the results, but I took her phone and joked about calling her parents about it, that's all."

My hands stopped in mid-air as I reached for another piece of tissue paper. I turned to him and blinked. I heard a laugh coming out from my mouth and it sounded bitter, just the way I felt right now. That was quick of him to think up of an explanation. I would have clapped for him right then and there if I wasn't crying because of him a minute ago.

"Is that true, Emily?" Mrs Huffman asked.

I opened my mouth, ready to tell her the truth—that I didn't flunk my test, that there wasn't even a test to start with and even if I did flunk my test my parents wouldn't kill me, not literally nor figuratively—but nothing came out. I looked at her and tried again, swallowing my own saliva as I felt a lump in my throat. "Yes."

"Oh, Emily, dear, all you have to do is try again," Mrs Huffman cooed as she squeezed my shoulder lightly. "And don't worry, I won't tell."

"Thanks," I whispered.

"I'll leave you lovebirds alone for now, but if you need anything, a cup of hot chocolate even, just come down and tell me, okay?" she said and smiled after I nodded. Then, she signalled at Finn as she stood up. "Make sure she's fine, okay?"

"Of course, I will, mum," he said and shifted himself nearer to me.

After the door clicked shut, I shifted away from him. He looked hurt when I did that as if I just took his favourite teddy bear and tore it apart. Maybe I should have done that, then I could show him how I felt at the moment.

"Em, I'm sorry. I didn't know what came to me. I wouldn't hurt you, Em. You know it," he said as he moved over.

"Really?" I snorted and glared at him. "I said stop. I told you to stop. I pushed your hand away and I begged you to stop, but you didn't."

"I—I'm really sorry, Em. I just thought you were ready," he sighed.

I frowned at him. "No, I'm not. Why else would I ask you to stop?"

"I'm sorry. I know saying I'm sorry isn't going to help right now, but—but I'm sorry, I really am," he said and held onto my hand. 

I flinched at his touch. 

At times like this, having his hands holding mine would help ease everything. The warmth from his hands always had a calming effect on me. I had always felt safe around him.

But he was the source of my pain right now.

"I want to go home," I blurted as I stood up.

"Home?"

"Yes, Finn. Home. I want to go home," I said and walked to the chair in front of his desk, placing my right hand on it to keep them from shaking. "Now."

He sighed and stood up, agreeing to fetch me home. I took my bag and hugged it in front me, imagining it was my cat plushie—the one I got since I was six. It never failed to transport me to a safe place whenever I hugged it—so I could pretend it would shield me from any oncoming danger.

At the door, he hesitated, pulling his hand away from the knob after a second.

"You won't tell on me, right?"

"What?" I asked, taking a step back instinctively. 

"Can we just forget about what happened and move on?" he said as he pushed a few strands of stray hair out of his face. "I love you, Em. I don't want this to ruin what we have."

For a minute, I wasn't sure what to say, I just stared at him, expressionless. 

After what happened, all he could think of is himself?

 It wasn't until he called me again when I shifted my attention to the stack of books on his table, that I sighed. "I love you too. But for now, I just want to go home."


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Little Note:

Do you clean your room voluntarily or are you like Finn, only cleaning the room when being told? And talking about Finn, what do you guys think about him now?

And as usual, constructive criticism is welcome, just tell me how to improve in the comments below. And remember to vote and maybe share it with your friends if you like it! :)

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