Chapter 1 Emma

A Chapter by turtlewriter

Chapter one
Emma
Six years later

    “Emma,” my mother calls from outside. “It’s Delivery Day, let’s go.” I poke my head out my window, “Coming, mom.” I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and enjoy the smell of fresh air and sunshine. I must be there for a moment because I hear my mother call again, “Then come on.” I open my eyes to see her roll hers at me, but she also smiles.
    I turn and grab my satchel from the back of my chair in hopes I might find something to trade at the Market. And I am extra excited today because it’s not just Delivery Day, it’s the last Delivery Day of the year. Starting tomorrow my family’s farm will have almost two months off before the next planting season, and as I step outside I can almost smell the freedom.
    My mom and sister, Molly, are already in one truck patiently waiting for me and my dad who is loading his workers with a few crates of apples. He doesn’t have to do this because technically they aren’t really his workers. They work for the Community since they don’t have anything to offer as their Share. My family has to give seventy-five percent of our crops to the Community as ours, then they distribute them equally amongst the people along with other peoples Shares. Our neighbors have a milk farm and they give seventy-five percent of the milk they produce to the Community, but theirs is a year round affair.
    So we all give our Shares and in return get weekly supplies; food, clothing, gas, electricity. Basically all of the things people used to have to pay for back before the Second Stock Market Crash almost seventy-five years ago. The Council set the system up like this to level the playing field. They said that the economy’s money system failed because people were not financially equal; this way everyone gets the same amount of weekly supplies. No need for greed.
    But even this system is flawed. For example, we get to keep the twenty-five percent and do as we please with it. We can consume it ourselves, give it away, or trade it for something at the market. My family does all three, and since our apple orchard produced ten percent more this year Dad is a little more generous with giving to the workers who do not have the luxury of a twenty-five percent.
    I wait for Dad beside our other truck as he double checks the crates. “My turn to drive?” I ask, dangling the keys on my finger.
    “Nice try,” he says as he snatches the keys. “ We have the biggest delivery of the season on this truck and I still remember the last time I let you drive.”
    I hop in the passenger side and shut my door with a smile, because I don’t really want to drive, I just like teasing him.
    “It wasn’t that bad.”
    “Your mother might be brave enough to let you, but I’m not.”
    “Molly’s not scared of my driving either,” I point out.
    “Yes, well, Molly’s not scared of anything, and no thanks to you, just as reckless.” He turns and winks so that I know he is still joking, but there is truth to what he says. Molly isn’t scared of anything. And while I am reckless, I know the consequences of my actions, I might not always see them right away, but I still think about what I am about to do before I do it. Molly, on the other hand, acts first. And I am scared it’s going to get her in trouble one of these days.

    We ride in silence for a while; I close my eyes and let the breeze from the open window seep into my bones. I take a deep breath and let the air enter every inch of my body relaxing me. I do it again because fresh air is like a drug to me. I can’t get enough and I breathe so deep I imagine that I’ve sucked up the entire outdoors into my body and harbor it close to my heart. I want to hold my breath and keep it all inside, if it didn’t feel so good to let it out.
    All too soon we pull up to the Delivery Deck where everyone drops off their Shares. It is a huge concrete platform attached to a warehouse where the Shares are then divided up and sorted for distribution. Dad backs the truck up to the Deck, Mom right beside him and workers immediately start unloading crates. I hop out of the truck and attempt to climb onto the Deck instead of taking the stairs when a hand reaches out in front of me. I know who it is before I look up.
    “Dominick,” I warn.
    “Sorry Em, forgot,” he throws his hands up in surrender as I clumsily scale the wall, but he still hovers near me incase. When I finally haul myself up I am pleased to see the surprise on his face.
    “You’ve been practicing,” he says sounding impressed. I just smile, because I have been practicing. The wall to the Deck is about five feet of solid concrete and most of the younger workers are able to clear it effortlessly. I have been trying since I was tall enough to reach the top. Dominick makes it look like he’s flying.
    He is back to unloading crates and I watch for a moment as a worker that has climbed into the back of the truck tosses him a crate. He catches it as if it weights no more than a feather, and then turns and tosses it to the next worker who then stacks them on the Deck. They are very efficient and the whole thing is almost mesmerizing.
    Toss, catch, turn, toss.
    Okay, so it’s probably him, Dominick, that I am mesmerized by, and the way he flicks his head to the side to get his blonde hair out of his eyes. He is so caught up in the rhythm and hasn’t paid me enough attention, so I say, “What do you think, Dom? Does that make me good enough to be one of the guys?” Dom holds up his hand to the worker who has been tossing him crates, steps over to me and leans down inches from my face. My heart lodges in my throat and I have to fight the urge to gulp it back down. He is looking me up and down when his eyes hover on my lips and in my mind I picture him leaning closer and kissing me, but instead he says, “Emma Richardson, you are nowhere near one of the guys.” He leans in a little closer and this time I can no longer fight it, I have to swallow hard to get my heart out of the way so I can breathe. He whispers, “So stop trying.”
    Before I can stop myself, and before he has pulled away I am whining, “Oh, come on, Dom! I can handle it.” Dom goes back to catching crates, but I am not finished. “Please? You said it yourself, I have been practicing. I promise I could make it up the mountain!” He sighs as he tosses a crate. “Climbing the mountain is a little bit more than scaling a five foot wall, Em, and you know it.”
    I cross my arms over my chest like I am five years old, because that is exactly how old I feel every time he tells me I am not strong enough to make it up the mountain with him and his friends. It’s not just about climbing the mountain, though. It’s about knowing what they do when they get to the top, because I know it’s more than hiking. And I can’t stand not knowing.
    “It’s not just the Deck. I’ve been�"“ But he cuts me off before I can plead my case. “Mr. Richardson, she’s doing it again,” he calls over his shoulder to my father who is helping unload the second truck. Dad doesn’t even break rhythm as he calls back, “Em, let the boy work.”
    Dominick, still tossing crates himself, gives me a gloating smile which makes me feel even younger, because he knows I will obey my father. But first, “Ha! He called you a boy!” I tease.
    “Ah, yes, but still more so than you,” he replies with a wink. Since I have no retort and I have to leave him alone, I simply stick out my tongue, and because now I have reverted to two years old. I hear him chuckle as I turn my back.
    I don’t know what makes me madder. The fact that Dom doesn’t think of me as one of the guys, or the fact that he doesn’t think of me as a girl. It’s not like there is a lot of us. Girls, I mean. There are only a handful of girls my age within a thirty mile radius, and we are all a few years younger than Dom and his friends.
    I take a breath and clear my head. I have work to do, I don’t have time to dwell. My job on Delivery Day is to count crates, so I go and grab the scanner and start to scan the codes on each crate. Back at the farm we have to count all of the apples and barcode each crate so the Community knows how much we produce. Every once and a while a Community Official will stop by randomly to check up on us. They make sure we are not cheating and hiding produce. Our computer at home sends the information to the warehouse so they already know how much is coming. The purpose of me scanning is to take inventory of what is at the warehouse, and they want to make sure that nothing gets ‘lost’ from the farm to the Delivery Deck.
    Molly is only eleven so she isn’t allowed have a responsibility on Delivery Day. Mom has her confined to the truck because she likes to run up the stairs and then jump off the Deck over and over again. I see her now out of the corner of my eye as she hangs half out of the window of the truck to talk to Dom now that the crates are unloaded. Molly is just as in love with Dom as all the other girls. For every three females we have around here, there is only one male, so there aren’t many to choose from, let alone any with eyes the color of the sky.
    Scan.
    And I think Dom knows that all the girls are in love with him, because he does these things that drive a girl crazy.
    Scan.
    Like right now, he is leaning up against the truck angling himself toward the window and Molly, who is like eight years younger than him, so he really shouldn’t be giving her that grin.
    Scan. Scan.
    And running his hands through his hair so she can get a better view of his bright blue eyes.
    Scan. Scan. Scan.
    Ugh! I am a moron.

    I quickly scan the last few stacks of crates and log the scanner back in. Mom and Dad are finalizing the delivery with the Community Official so I join Molly and Dom by the trucks.
    “Guess what, Em,” my sister says practically falling out of the window. “Dom is going to the Market too.” This doesn’t surprise me. Just about everyone in the Community will be there, which really isn’t that many people because our Community is small compared to some others, but surprisingly not the smallest.
    “And he promised to take me to the peer,” she says now as she stares all dreamy like at Dom. I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head at him.
    “You know,” I say, “it’s not really fair doing that.”
    “What?” And he honestly looks like he has no idea what I am talking about.
    “That,” I say and point at Molly who has her chin rested on her palm as she continues to oogle him.
    “What?” he shrugs. “she’s sweet.” As if that explains everything. Besides, I’m sweet too…sometimes.
    “Alright everyone,” my father says coming down the stairs, “to the Market.” Then he does the unthinkable.
    He tosses the truck keys to Dominick.
    “What?” I yell incredulous. “You aren’t serious?” I am seriously offended now.
    “Dominick needs a ride to the market,” Dad says with a shrug of his shoulder. Why do they all think these random statements are explanations for crazy behavior?
    “Uh, and needing a ride usually proceeds with that person riding, not driving.”
    “Emma,” my father sighs, which usually means that the conversation is over, but I have more to say. Before I can say anything though, Dom is shoving me into the driver’s side of the truck and then slides in beside me forcing me over to the passenger’s side. I can hear Molly’s protests as Mom and Dad climb in the other truck. She would be in preteen heaven riding with Dom.
    “You don’t have to be pushy,” I say to Dom as he starts the truck.
    “Sure I do,” he says, “or else you’ll say something you don’t mean, and then you’ll upset your parents, and then you will be in a bad mood because you upset them, and then you’ll be no fun at the market.”
    “I’m already in a bad mood.”
    “Why can’t you just let things go?” he asks all serious now.
    I look out the window at the passing scenery because I refuse to look at him. “I don’t know,” I say in a low voice. And it’s the truth.
    “You always have to say the last word.”
    That’s the truth too. But not this time, I just sit there and stare out the window.
    “Or,” he says and gives my leg a playful shove, “give people the silent treatment.”
    I prove he is right as I stare.
    “What’s with you today, Em?” He sounds defeated and I don’t like it because deep down Dom is a really sweet guy. And I don’t like the fact that it is me that makes him sound this way. I want me to be the reason he sounds happy. So I give in by saying, “I was in a great mood this morning.”
    “Is this about me not letting you go to the mountain?”
    “It’s not really that I can’t go, it’s more about the fact that I am treated like a kid.” I glance at him now, not because I want to see the pitying look on his face, but because I want him to know that it’s not really him putting me in a bad mood.
    “You have a lot of freedom, Em, more than a lot of people your age. Your parents trust you with a lot of responsibilities too.” He has no idea that saying ‘people your age’ is the wrong thing to say to someone who feels like they are being treated like they are not old enough. Because he basically just said he doesn’t think of me as his age, which is only two years older than me, by the way. This hurts my feelings, because he, more than anyone, is the one I want to see me as my age, or at least ‘old enough’.
    “You wouldn’t understand.” I simply say, hoping to let it go for a change. He shakes his head at me and I am glad for the fact that we are pulling into the market.
    “Come on,” Dom says after he has parked the truck. “Let’s go have some fun.”
    The market is crowded with people. Delivery Day is always like this. People know how much they can trade after they make their monthly deliveries. And this isn’t really everyone because it’s so early.
    I start off in the direction of my favorite place, where the musicians hang out, but before I take five steps Dom pinches the collar of my shirt, “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks pulling me to a stop. “You know the rules, you have to stay with a male while out in public.” I slump in his grip as he adds, “and I have to go pick up some fruit for my mom.” He lets go of my shirt to push me in the right direction and chuckles.
    “Ugh, why do you always have to follow the rules?” I pull a face but it’s pointless because he is behind me and can’t even see it.
    “Why do you always try to break them?” He’s beside me now and I can see the smile I just knew he was wearing.
    I don’t always break the rules, just sometimes, and it is always for a good reason. I don’t just break them to break them or anything. Some of them are just really hard to follow, but if Mom or Dad specifically tell me to do something or not to, I will always do it or not do it. Dom, on the other hand, he always follows them no matter what. In fact, he is usually the one to try to talk me out of doing things that he knows are against the rules. Always the reliable trustworthy Dominick.
“And I bet you guys just love it too,” I say referring to the ‘rule’ he is so determined to follow. “Surrounded by girls all the time.”
“Yes,” he admits. “It does something to a guy’s ego.” He shrugs and we keep walking.
We pass the last few booths that display miscellaneous things like watches, sunglasses, and kitchen supplies. Over the last few years the Market has gotten more organized. People like to bring their twenty-five percent keep and set up booths to attract traders. They used to find a random spot and lay out their goods so it was really hard to find what you were looking for. One booth might have vegetables and the one next to it might have blankets or something. There was no rhyme or reason to it until a group of farmers all agreed to set up next to each other. My Dad said they thought it would be better for them all. Eventually most people caught on, so now there are sections that have similar things. Clothing in one area, tools in another and so on. There is even a section for miscellaneous stuff, like the booths we just passed, which leads to the food area where Dom finally finds whatever he needs for his mom.
It is a fruit stand that displays strawberries, bananas, and oranges. Everything we get in our weekly supplies anyway, so I can’t imagine what his mom would need extra for.
Dom pulls something out of his pocket and looks around before discreetly showing it to the trader, “How much can I get for this?” He is trying very hard to make sure that no one passing by sees, but I can see just fine. He is holding a gold coin about half the size of his palm.
What’s he doing with money?
It’s illegal to have, plus it’s not worth anything anymore. But the trader glances around quickly, takes the coin and puts it in his pocket. “Take what you need,” he says.
Dom proceeds to hand me two baskets of strawberries then takes three bunches of bananas. He thanks the trader and they share a knowing look before he turns to leave. I am a little shocked at the whole thing so it takes me a moment to realize that I should be following him. I jog to catch up, careful not to lose any strawberries (or contraband, because that’s exactly what they are).
“What was that?” I demand. “Where did you get…that?” I am afraid to even say the word, but I don’t have to, he knows what I am talking about.
“Shh,” he hisses.
“Sh?” I reply. “No. No, I don’t think so, Dom. Spill.” He is walking so fast that I have to almost jog to keep up with his long strides.
“Not now,” he snaps. Even though we argue a lot about things, he has never been this rude to me before.
I stop. Yes, I am that stubborn. When he realizes that I am no longer with him he doubles back, “Come on, Em!”
“Dominick, you just made me an accomplice,” I whisper the last word. “I deserve to know what’s going on.”
“Maybe you do, but not here. So, let’s move!” He is glaring at me now and I don’t like the feeling at all, but I still do not move.
“When?” I ask.
“Emma!”
“Just tell me.”
“For crying out loud, I will, I promise. Just. Not. Here.” He is pleading with those big blue eyes and I can’t resist them so I start moving.
“Didn’t we just have a conversation about you and letting things go?” he says more relaxed now that we are close to the truck.
“Don’t start with me.” I reply. “We also just had a conversation about you following the rules.”
    Once we get to the truck and unload I feel much better, but I am still upset. I am not sure how I feel about this new revelation about the ‘always reliable and trustworthy’ Dominick. It’s not just rules we’re talking about breaking here, its laws.
    “Now?” I ask.
    Dom looks past me, “Nope,” he says and points. But I don’t have to turn around because I can hear my sister already.
    “There you are!”
    “Hey kiddo.” Dom ruffles Molly’s hair as she comes in between us. “You ready to go down to the peer?”
    “Absolutely.”
    My dad comes up next to us and reminds us that we need to be on our best behavior for Dominick (like he is babysitting me), and to stay out of the way of the fisherman.
    Molly wraps her hand around Dom’s arm as we start moving. I don’t know if it’s her age that makes her so gutsy and the fact that she knows nothing can really happen between her and Dom, or if she is truly that gutsy. I might be reckless, but I am not fearless. I could never just reach out and take him by the arm. I am too scared of the rejection that I will get. I am almost jealous of her.
    And it seems that the older I get the more my feelings betray me about Dom. I used to be able to just hang out with him and enjoy the company. He has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. There might be a lot of girls around here, but I am not really good friends with any of them except for one, Sabrina, because she lives down the road from me. But I don’t see her much anymore because her family milk farm takes up a lot of her time.
    I’ve always been comfortable with Dom until lately. I am growing more and more nervous around him and anxious. It’s strange and I sometimes don’t like it. It’s torture. That’s one reason I just want to be one of the guys. So things can go back to the way they used to be. But I am not sure that is going to happen, not after what happened today in the Market. Not after finding out that there is more to Dom than I thought.
    I glance over at him now and he has a huge grin on his face as he looks around and points out things to show Molly. He acts like nothing even happened. Like he didn’t just break the law by possessing money and then using it. He is acting as normal as ever. He’s not overcompensating for guilt either. Now that I have had time to process it, he acts as though it doesn’t bother him at all, which makes me believe that this wasn’t the first time. I mentally suck in a breath.
    He’s done this before.
    He’s done this before and he has become so used to it that he can just go on about his business as if he has done it a million times.
    And he didn’t trust me enough to tell me.
    I can feel the blood boiling inside me at this betrayal. Dom is supposed to be my best friend. And besides the whole mountain thing, we tell each other everything. I want to cry. No, I want to haul off and slug him. I want to run as far away as I can and sit in misery and mourn the friendship that I have lost. Because now I know things will never go back to how things used to be.
    This changes everything.

    I am walking in a daze as Molly grabs my arm and pulls me along. She is dragging me toward the side of the peer where a man has just reeled in a huge fish. Just as she leans down to look at it, the fish flops in the air gasping. This makes her jump back and giggle. The fisherman around her are laughing and now trying to maker her giggle more. They begin to show her the fish they have already stored in coolers of water.
    I walk over to the opposite side of the peer, a less populated place so I can sulk. I prop my elbows on the ledge and look out at the vast ocean. The salty air and the cool breeze have me relaxing in no time at all. I suck in as much of it as I can. It is impossible to sulk out here. I need a dark closet for that. I want to brood and feel sorry for myself, but I can’t. Not here in front of the crashing waves and the bobbing boats. The seagulls swooping down and squawking. The warm sun on my face.
    “Hey.” I hear a gentle voice. I can’t even look at him though. I am afraid I will see something else that I haven’t seen before and I have seen enough for today. I close my eyes and lift my face to the sky. I can feel Dom next to me as he leans on the ledge.
    “Twice in one day, huh?” he asks. I am not sure what he means but I still do not look at him.
    “Well,” he begins. “I guess who have a right to give me the silent treatment this time.” I feel him move beside me so I peek out from between my lids and see that he has tilted his head to the sky too and closed his eyes. And he looks so much like the Dominick that I knew, the honest, reliable, trustworthy, rule following Dominick and it makes my heart hurt. What else is there about him that I don’t know?
    He doesn’t say anything and we just stand there, facing opposite directions but looking toward the sky. Even though I can hear a dozen things in the back ground, the lapping water, the seagulls, Molly’s laughter- the silence is deafening and I am the one to break it.
    “You lied to me.”
    Dom opens his eyes but does not look at me. I face him full on. “You lied to me...apparently a lot.”
    He lets out a sigh. “Em, I didn’t lie to you.”
    “What do you call it then? And don’t tell me that not telling me something is different than lying.”
    He drops his head. “Would you accept ‘protecting you’ as an answer?”
    “Ha! Yeah right.” I look off into the distance of the ocean.
“How many times?” I ask almost in a whisper. Just as quietly he replies, “I don’t know.” Which translates that he has done it so many times he has lost track, so I try another route. “How long?”
    He lets out another breath, “uh, maybe for the last year or so.” I look at him now with surprise. He looks guilty for the first time today.
    “When were you going to tell me about this?” He drops his head in response. “Oh.” He wasn’t planning on telling me.
    Ouch.
“I am sorry that I made you an accomplice. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never done it with you around before.” My response is somewhere between a laugh and a snort but then I add, “exactly.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?”
    “’I’ve never done it around you before’” I mock. “Exaclty. You’ve never done it around me before. What is it? Because I really want to know, no, I need to know. Am I too young, or do you just not trust me?”
    “Don’t start that again, Emma.” He says as he throws his hands up in the air and lets them drop. But he doesn’t add anything to it. Then I hear my sister.
    “Are you two arguing?” she asks as she walks over to us.
    Dominick and I both speak at the same time, but with different answers.
    “No,” he says.
    “Yes,” I say.
    He gives me an exasperated look but I just walk off. He apparently tries to follow because Molly says, “Let her go.”
    “Molly, I can’t. You know the rules.”
    I want to turn around and scream at him. I don’t even know who he is anymore.
    Rules!
    Ha!

    When we pull up to Dominick’s house I jump out of the truck and as quickly as I can unload his stupid fruit. I shove it all into his arms without saying a word.
    “Emma.” He says softly.
    I hop into the truck and he calls my name again as I put on my seatbelt. A little louder this time, “Emma!” as I peel out of his driveway kicking up dirt as he stands there with his contraband. I don’t want to think about the fact that I have never been this mean to him in my entire life. I should feel bad, but I am too hurt to care how he feels right now. Besides, he never thought how lying to me would make me feel.
    Molly doesn’t say a word. She knows me too well to say anything. I don’t know if I would hear her if she did speak with the noise in my head right now. My thoughts are screaming at me. My foot on the gas petal feels like a lead weight, like all of my frustration is concentrated there, as if I could speed all of this out of me. But we only live a few minutes down the road from Dominick so we are home fast.
    As I get out of the truck I say to Molly in a clipped voice, “Tell Mom and Dad I went for a walk.” I slam the door and take off for the orchard. I will find peace there. I will be able to think. Or not think. Or sulk or brood. I haven’t decided yet which I want to do more. I just know that I have to be alone.
    I walk about a half of a mile into the orchard and find the tree I am looking for. It’s one of my favorites. The branches are perfect for climbing and are still full of leaves to help conceal me. I climb about three quarters of the way up to a branch that sticks out of the tree and flattens out a little. The trunk is slanted here, so it makes a perfect reclined back seat. I settle in, close my eyes, and let my surroundings begin to relax me. I concentrate on just breathing.
    In. Out. In. Out.
    My mind is beginning to clear. I feel relief. I don’t like all these emotions pulling at me at the same time. Too many conflicting with each other; hurt, anger, betrayal, love, that I just don’t want to feel anything at all.
    In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
    I hear the gentle rustle of the leaves around me as a soft breeze blows. There are a few birds hopping from branch to branch talking to each other in their bird song.
    In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
    “Thought I’d find you here.”
    Inoutinoutinoutinout. Great.
    “Who can’t let things go now?” I ask Dom as he makes his way up the tree. He is strong, but not as limber as he used to be, so he struggles on some of the branches. If I wasn’t so mad I would probably laugh at him. He stands on a low branch, his head level with mine. I don’t want to look at him, but he is right there, his hand on the trunk behind my head to support himself.
    “No, Em, I don’t want to let this go. I owe you an explanation.” He waits to see if I react. So I cross my arms as if I am waiting for him to go on.
    “Okay, so my grandfather left this box of old money with my dad. Said we might need it someday. Dad used to show it to me when I was little. Mom didn’t like it. When he died she hid it. She didn’t want us to get caught with it. I hadn’t seen it since. Until last year that is.”
    “That’s interesting an all, but that hardly explains why you had to use it.”
    “Marge got pregnant, Emma.”
    I started at this. I uncrossed my arms so fast that I nearly fell from my branch. Dom put his hands on my hips to steady me. Marge is his older unmarried sister.
    “What?” I began. “When? With who?”
    “Last year. She won’t tell us. I’ve got some ideas, but she doesn’t want to get him into trouble.” I don’t really blame her. All pregnancies have to be approved by the Community and then documented. There are major punishments for not doing so and it’s worse for the males.
    “So you have been hiding her pregnancy all this time?”
    “Uh, she’s already had the baby, Em. It’s a boy. Your parents didn’t think that it was a good idea to…” He stops as I sit up and push him out of the way so that I can climb down the tree. I’m suddenly feeling claustrophobic in this tree with him so close. Once my feet hit the ground I let my knees buckle and I plop down. I am stunned.
    “My parents know?” I ask more to myself than to him. “But not me.”
    “Emma,” Dom says as he sits down next to me. “What are you thinking?”
    “I’m thinking…” I begin shaking my head from side to side. “I’m thinking that I must be the worst friend in the whole world for you to feel like you couldn’t tell me any of this. And that I apparently don’t know you well enough to tell when something is going on. I’m thinking that I feel incredibly stupid right now and hurt and angry and a lot of other things.” I feel a small tear run down my cheek so I quickly stand and try to turn away.
    “Emma, I’m sorry,” he whispers. He moves to stand behind me putting his hand on my shoulder. “Please, don’t cry. I…” He lets his hand fall before he continues. “I didn’t tell you because if you didn’t know than you couldn’t get into trouble.” I ignore that excuse. It’s not enough.
    “It’s not about what you did that upsets me. It’s not telling me, Dom. I would have told you!”
         “If you were to stop and think about this, you’d realize that this isn’t about you. It’s not even about me. I had to protect my family!”
    I spin around and let him see the anger on my face.
    “And what? I wouldn’t? I love your family! They are practically mine.”
    “Emma,” he breathes, clearly exhausted with this.
    “What else have you been keeping from me? What else are you protecting me from? What else am I too young to handle?”
    It’s answer enough that he doesn’t say anything. He stands there and I can see his frustration building.
    “You’re acting like such a…” he throws his hands in the air. “…a girl!” It’s the one thing he could say that would hurt me and he knows it.
    My tears are gone now, replaced with red hot fury. I take a step forward bringing myself inches from him. “If you haven’t noticed, I am.!” I yell. His face relaxes suddenly and his words come out a whisper. “I know.” He raises his hand and gently brushes my cheek. “I know you are a girl. I have been trying to convince you of that for the past few years.” He turns his hand to cup my face. “I am very aware that you are a girl, Emma.” And because the anger still has my blood boiling I don’t see it coming.
I always wanted to see it coming.
He leans in and kisses me.
    Things switch gears inside of me automatically. My head clouds up and I forget everything. My body goes weak and it takes my brain a minute to remind my body that I am still mad at him. I blame it on the anger induced adrenaline rush, but once I have gained back control I shove him away.
    Now? He kisses me now?
    “Emma,” he starts toward me.
    “Please,” I say turning back around. “Please, just leave me alone.”
    “Emma, I…”
    “Leave!”

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Reviews

Brian Shepard

I like this- it has the makings of a great story, and I look forward to reading more as it grows. I wonder though...why is the narrator explaining certain things to the reader? I understand that back story and exposition are important for the reader to understand the context of the story- but in a first person narrative like this- the protagonist already knows her history so who is she telling it to and why? Is she telling someone a story who is unfamiliar with it's background? I would think about other ways to let the context come through rather than straight out exposition. Maybe even let the reader figure stuff out themselves based upon the actions unfolding- a little mystery is fine in a fantasy/sci fi story. Or maybe there's a character whose job it is to remind the people of the history... Like in the hunger games when there are announcements every year that tell the story of why things are happening the way they are. Just some thoughts. I enjoyed this very much and will be back for more. Well done.