16: Two Left Feet

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16: Two Left Feet

School always seems to go by too slowly on Fridays. Well, to me it does. By the time school's over, I'm more than ready to go home. The car ride back to the house is oddly quiet. I've gotten so used to one of the boys in the car with me. I can't believe that in a week, we'll be done with our project. My house looks extremely large and empty as I drive up. Before I even reach the door, I hear a car horn. I turn and see Jake's car pull into my driveway.

I wait for him to reach the porch before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"What? I can't just come to hang out?" He grins up at me.

I raise an eyebrow. "What if I had plans?" I lean against the railing.

"Do you?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then we're all good." He climbs up the steps and opens the front door, ignoring my objections. I sigh and follow him inside, dropping my bag by the stairs.

"Oh, look who's here," I hear Maria say. I plop down onto one of the stools at the counter, grabbing a cookie off of the baking sheet.

Maria gives me a look. "What's up with all the baking?" She shrugs at my question, turning away to grab the cookie scoop off the counter behind her.

"I've just been in the mood to bake lately. And I don't see you complaining," she eyes me. "Either of you." We both look at Jake, who has a cookie half hanging out of his mouth and grabbing for another one. I start laughing, earning a look from Jake as he starts moving towards me. I jump up from my seat and run out of the room, knowing what's coming.

I hear Jake's loud footsteps as I run down one hallway after another. I slip into a room, closing the door softly behind me. Holding my breath, I wait and listen. As soon as I hear footsteps pass down the hall, I look around the room I'm in. The grand piano stands to the side of the room. My old acoustic Fender sits to the right, perched on its stand. The bench seems small and out-of-place next to the piano. I notice a layer of dust has settled itself over everything as I inch closer. I walk around the piano, trailing my hand across the top and kicking up dust.

I make my way across the room, looking around and remembering how differently I saw it when I last was in here. It's strange to think that, like people, places change. Nothing ever stays the same for long. The wall across from the door is glass, the window overlooking the backyard. Sunlight spills in, reflecting off the mirrors that cover the wall on the opposite side of the room that the piano is on.

I turn to the sound of the door opening. Jake stands on the other side. "There you are." He steps in, looking around. "What is this room?"

"My old music room." I wipe the dust from the bench and sit down. "I used to have piano and dance lessons in here. I also learned guitar in here, once I convinced my parents to let me play. They wanted me to learn how to play violin, too."

Jake sits down next to me on the bench. "So did you?" I shake my head. "Why not?"

"I didn't want to." I stare at the piano, but don't touch it. "More like I didn't want to do what they wanted me to."

Neither of us say anything for a few moments. The silence isn't uncomfortable. Just empty. I lift the cover and run a hand across the keys.

Jake asks, "Do you know a lot of songs?"

"I know a lot of classics. I've probably forgotten a lot of them." I play a piece of a familiar song that I can't put a name to. "Or at least most of them."

He gets up from the piano and walks across the room. I close the piano and walk over to where he's standing. I notice my old speaker in the corner and plug it in. Pulling out my phone, I connect it and put my music on shuffle.

He smiles at me as a song from the If I Stay soundtrack starts playing. "So. Dancing, huh?"

I smile. "Yep. Including the box waltz."

"That even sounds boring," he laughs.

"I can show you," I offer.

He steps closer to me. "Alright."

"Really?" He shrugs. "Okay. It's pretty easy. All you have to do is step in a square, turning as you go. It's easier than it sounds." As it turns out, Jake is an awful dancer.

"Never mind," I laugh as the song ends. "You can't box waltz."

Gabrielle Aplin's Please Don't Say You Love Me starts playing. "Oh, I can change the song." I start to walk towards the speaker.

"No," Jake says, grabbing my hand. "It's fine."

"Oh. Um, okay." I blush as he pulls me closer, starting to dance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up to someone shaking my shoulder. "Emaline," someone whispers. I curl up, hoping whoever's bothering me will just go away.

"Emaline," a voice I recognize as Jake's whispers again. "Emaline, wake up."

I make a sound and open my eyes. I look up to see Jake smiling at me. "Hey, the movie's over."

I look at the TV. "Oh," I say before yawning. "What time is it?"

"Past your bedtime," he laughs.

"Ha, ha," I say sarcastically. "Very funny."

He laughs again. "I know I'm funny." I roll my eyes. As he checks his phone, I notice that I fell asleep with my legs draped across Jake. So that's why he couldn't get up. I sit up, running a hand through my hair in an attempt to untangle it. I shiver and pull my feet up on the couch. Jake looks over at me for a moment before handing me a blanket from the other end of the couch.

"Thanks," I mumble. He nods.

As I start to drift back off, I hear Jake groan. I look over to see him run a hand down his face. Catching me looking at him, he says, "It's past one."

"Already?" I pull the blanket off, standing up and stretching. "You can just crash here," I offer. "I mean, if you don't want to drive home this late. We have plenty of room."

He looks up at me. "You sure?"

"Yeah." I nod. "As long as your parents are okay with it."

"They won't care. They're out of town until Sunday." He stands up.

"Alright. Well, you can stay in one of the guest rooms." I put the blanket away and head upstairs. Opening the door across the hall from mine, I say, "Here we are. If you need anything, I'll be right across the hall. Bathroom is the next door down. You know where the kitchen is."

"Okay. Thanks," he says. I turn to go back into my room when I hear Jake say, "Emaline?"

"Yeah?"

A pause. "Good night."

I smile. "Good night, Jake."

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