An ex-couples rivalry for the spot as student body president becomes even more convoluted when two new, unexpected candidates enter the race. Chloe and Preston team up, each vowing to get one member kicked from the competition-- but when they both e...
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When Emily texted me Tuesday night, I wasn't expecting the contents to be what they were. Sure, I'd been expecting an address. And I didn't exactly have any idea of where she lived, either. But I had to admit that of all the places I would have guessed, Briarmoore would not have been one of them.
It wasn't even in our school district, and she wasn't lying when she said it was out of the way— the drive itself was around twenty minutes; I figured it had to take her somewhere around an hour to make the trip on her bike.
The neighborhood was totally foreign to me, looking nothing like my own. Fancy, ornate shops lead the way into deep woods filled with large houses and mansions. I could barely keep my eyes on the road, wanting to gawk at each one. I forced myself to pull my jaw from the floor once I spotted the address Emily had given me, pulling into the driveway's open iron gates and driving slowly up the long path.
A tall, white house loomed at the end of the pavement, it's dark blue roof contrasting against the grey sky. My eyes couldn't stop wandering over the perfect lawn, tracing over groomed hedges and potted flowers. They moved to admire the house as I grew closer, its large oak door and the wide steps leading up to it almost making my jaw drop. I felt bad to even think it, but this was definitely not where I pictured Emily living.
There was no hiding the reasons why, either. I spotted the brunette as she opened the front door, shutting it quickly behind her and jogging down the stairs. Her familiar beaten up combat boots were paired with dark jeans and a brown, oversized flannel, the outfit a stark contrast to the fancy home behind her. As she headed towards the car I tried to picture her wearing the type of outfit that I would associate with the house— maybe something like Chloe would wear. The thought made my nose scrunch up, not fond of the image I'd constructed in my head. That sort of thing wouldn't really suit Emily at all.
My head tilted to the side, eyes studying her as she walked over to where I'd stopped. I could picture her in something fancy, I realized, something high class and not as juvenile as high school queen-bee attire. It took the sound of the passenger's door opening to snap me out of my thoughts— daydreams of Emily dolled up in ways I wondered if I would ever see.
"Hi," I greeted as Emily slid inside, a small smile on her face as she set her backpack on the floor of the car.
"Hi. Thanks for picking me up— I have gas money," she said, lifting herself off the seat to reach in her back pocket. She pulled out a ten-dollar bill and held it out to me, but I shook my head, smiling.
"Emily, you don't have to give me gas money. Hell, I'm pretty much the transportation for the whole wrestling team, and none of them ever do."
She shrugged a shoulder, placing the bill into the empty coin tray before buckling herself in. "It's a long drive."
"It's an even longer bike ride," I joked, pressing on the gas and pulling around the looped driveway, back down towards the gate.
"I like the exercise," she said simply, eyes trained out the window.
