Chapter Twenty-Three:
Emerson
It’s the last day of the tour, and it’s bittersweet yet exciting. This whole experience turned out a lot different than I ever imagined. I was such a Debbie-Downer to begin with because I felt as though my hand was forced in the issue of going. I wanted time to myself —and honestly, away from Cade— so I could maybe go on a couple of dates in peace without him butting in. I’ve kissed a frog or two in the last couple of months, but the biggest surprise was what has transpired between Braxton and me just over the last few weeks. I’m still anxious about going home and whatever we have crumbling under the real-life stressors, but I’m intrigued to see if I will be wrong about this.
Mischa decided to fly out for this show as she didn’t get a chance to catch the one nearest to our house. My stomach is in knots when I think about telling her what happened between Braxton and me. I’ve been confiding in Breigh every night, but it’s not the same. Mischa knows Braxton; he’s been at our house every day since the fourth grade. He practically lives with us. It doesn’t help that he lives in the house directly next door to us, so even if I wanted to escape, I don’t have far to go. Luckily we haven’t had too many rifts in our friendship over the years, and neither have Cade and Braxton.
I’m super stoked to pick Mischa up from the airport, so I’m quickly getting ready by showering and picking out my clothes. After a quick shower, I hop out, dry off, and take a blow dryer to my hair. Most days I don’t worry about my appearance, allowing my hair to air dry. Cade and I have always been privileged that our hair doesn’t frizz uncontrollably like others. However, today I’m in a little bit of a rush as I turn the hot air on my damp hair. I’m humming one of A Night to Remember’s new songs they debuted a week ago when I see something black out of the corner of my eye. My gaze shifts to the ground, and I think my eyes are deceiving me at first.
“Ahhh!” I scream, stumbling over my feet and scrambling to jump into the bathtub. There on the ground, inching underneath the crack in the door and carpet is the biggest spider I have ever seen in my life. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it has dripping fangs and is looking straight at me. My heart is beating out of my chest from the fear, and every few minutes I let out another high-pitched squeal. The hairy tarantula is making its way quickly across the floor, and the movement alone sends chills down my spine.
I’m still gripping the blow dryer with a death-grip, so I instead turn it on the hairy, black arachnid. Instead of a small spider or bug, the massive one does not blow away. In fact, it walks toward the heat, freaking me out even more; I turn off the dryer and toss it onto the rug in front of the spider hoping to startle it. It jumps about a foot in the air, making me almost pee right then and there.
I can hear audible laughing from the other side of the door, and I realize that this is not some crazy coincidence –this is a prank from my darling brother and his best friend. I have to give it to them; this is hard to top. I grab my towel from the metal bar on the wall and wrap it around myself as fast as I can. The tarantula has made its way to the back of the toilet, and I know this is my moment. Moving quicker than ever before, I hop out of the shower, unlock the bathroom door, and run smack dab into Braxton’s chest. He’s so much bigger than me that the impact is nothing to him. His hands touch my arms. “Em, did you meet Hairy?”
I push him out of the way, wriggling out of his grasp, and put as much distance as I can between that furry, terrifying arachnid and myself. Cade walks into the bathroom and within a few seconds, has the large spider sitting in the palm of his hand. He is smiling evilly as he walks out of the bathroom with his arm outstretched. “Come here, come say hi,” he taunts me.
“No! No!” I scream. “Keep that thing away from me!” I’m jumping on and over the beds to distance myself from both my brother and Braxton, neither one of them can be trusted. I don’t care that I’m in a towel; I’ll go running out the door if I have to.
Cade and Braxton have a few more laughs at my expense before they give Hairy back to his rightful owner, and my heartbeat returns to normal. “I hate both of you!” I scream as I run back into the bathroom, locking myself in it once more.
I can hear the guys high-fiving and congratulating one another on the most epic prank yet. They win, I lose. Oh well, I tried.
***
“Em!” Mischa’s long, light brown hair and brown eyes come into view. She looks adorable, sporting a short flowery dress and red wedges.
Hopping out of the van, I run to embrace her. I’ve never been away from home for this long before.
“I missed you!” she says into my hair. “I’m dying to hear everything.” Even though we talk every week, I haven’t been completely honest with her and my stomach is in knots thinking about telling her the truth.
After loading her small carry-on into the back, she hops into the passenger seat and we are off. “Where’s Cade?” she asks, glancing into the back of the van with a disappointed smirk.
“He’s back at the venue. Your flight was so close to their time to go on; he said he’d just see you back at the show.”
She nods, staring forward at the road. “I can’t believe this summer flew by so quickly. I feel like it was just yesterday that Cade was ranting and raving about being asked to go on tour.”
I nod. “Yeah, me too. I miss Puss and Boots, and you, and my bed.”
Mischa laughs. “I figured you would say that. How are you doing without your babies and your thousand-thread count?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m serious. Do they miss us? Do they even notice we are gone?”
Mischa continues to laugh at my expense which only frustrates me more. I shake my head, sighing.
“So, final thoughts – are you happy you made the decision to go?” Mischa asks me curiously.
“I don’t know if I would say that I made that decision, but yeah, I don’t regret it if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Has Cade been behaving himself?” Mischa questions, glancing at me.
I scoff. “When has Cade ever behaved?”
We both break into uncontrollable laughter. “You’re right. You’re right.”
I’ve really missed my aunt. After my parents had passed, Mischa tried so hard to fill their shoes. The first few years were tough, but eventually, we both let her in. We became extremely close with each passing year, and by the time she began seriously dating Zach, it felt a bit like betrayal; her splitting her time between him and us. They’ve been together for four years now, and I don’t think he’s going anywhere, so I’ve come to accept his presence in my life.
“I’m excited you’re here for this,” I say squeezing her hand lightly.
“I’m excited I’m here as well,” she replies.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” I begin hesitantly, unsure I’m doing the right thing by even bringing it up.
Mischa looks back at me earnestly listening. “I’m all ears.”
I take a deep breath, gaining the courage I need. I don’t even know why I am so nervous; I know Mischa loves me and only wants my happiness. “Something happened between Braxton and me.”
Her mouth falls open and her hand immediately goes to cover it. “Cereal?” It’s been an inside joke between us for years to use cereal in the place of serious. It always puts a smile on both of our faces.
“Cereal,” I repeat, grinning back at her.
“Oh my God, Em! Why didn’t you tell me?” she exclaims.
I shrug, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Well, for starters, there isn’t much to tell; we’ve only kissed a couple of times.”
“A couple of times?” Her responses mirrors Breigh’s reaction or how I could imagine it would be telling her for the first time again.
“Should I be prepping for our birds and the bees talk again?” Mischa jokes, sticking her tongue out at me.
I smack her lightly on her upper arm. “I’m still a virgin.”
She throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t ask, just offered.” You would think this would be a weird conversation to have with an aunt, or motherly figure of any sort, but I don’t hide anything from Mischa. After she put her life on hold to take us in and give us a chance, I’ve owed her mine. You can only imagine what losing a parent can do to a twelve-year-old child, not to mention losing both. Without Mischa and Cade, I wouldn’t be here today.
“So, do you like him?” she asks simply, settling back in her seat.
I nod, unable to hide the grin spreading across my lips. “Yeah.”
“So, what’s the big deal then?” she asks, throwing her hands up for emphasis. It doesn’t take her long to answer her own question. “Cade?”
Doesn’t it always come down to Cade…