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Matt and I give each other a knowing glance. Emmet is his older brother, and he’s a tool.
“Let me guess,” Matt says. “He has an important meeting . . . on Thanksgiving.”
Janet straightens and gives Matt a pointed stare. “Your brother works very hard at what he does.”
She turns and walks back into the kitchen, and Matt mutters, “Yeah, that’s why he lives with Grandma.”
I just laugh and shake my head. I think Emmet coins himself as a motivational speaker or something. I don’t know. All I know is that he has his whole “business” running off Facebook, where he basically spam messages people until someone is dumb enough to set up a call with him. Those are his important meetings.
Rae laughs as she leans into Matt, and even though I’m happy for him, part of me envies him just a little. There’s no one I want to date right now, and I’m about to go on tour with the band, so the last thing I need is a relationship, but he makes it look so easy.
Margot sits on the other end of the couch, her feet tucked underneath her. I’m glad she still gave me shit when I walked in here. It’s the only part of my day that has felt normal, and I need any sense of normalcy I can get right now. My whole life is about to change. If the one thing I can count on is Margot giving me the stink eye, so be it.
The front door opens, and in comes Emmet and Grandma Lois. I wish I liked him as much as I like her. Emmet is a prick, but there’s a good chance Grandma Lois is the greatest person to have ever lived.
“Hey, fam!” Emmet calls out as he holds the door open for the petite elderly woman with sharp eyes and a giant handbag. She scurries past us, glaring as she does. “You lot should be cooking.” She stares us down before spitting out the word “Lazy” with a shake of her head and continuing her trek into the kitchen.
I let out a breath of laughter. That woman never disappoints. Every time she’s around, I’m constantly entertained by the shit that comes out of her mouth.
Rae and Margot look at each other with wide eyes before jumping to their feet and hurrying after her.
That’s when Emmet walks into the room. He does a double take when Margot passes, and his eyes linger a little too long as he stops her to introduce himself. He’s only three years older than us, but he has that sales look in his eyes like she’s a deal he needs to close.
She stares up at him with vulnerability in her eyes and a smile that could bring most guys to their knees.
My heel starts to bounce, the all too familiar feeling of anxiety creeping into my chest again. But this time, it has nothing to do with my dad or the band. This time, it has everything to do with the girl who lives across the hall and the guy I don’t want her talking to.
29
margot
Emmet is friendly, but he’s a lot.
And he’s talking to me more than anyone else.
Which I guess is fine.
He certainly has more to say to me than Jackson, and Rae has been helping Matt’s mom in the kitchen for a little while now. I offered to help, but Emmet called me over, so here we are. It’s not the first time it’s happened either.
He’s already told me about his life coaching business and talked trash about his clients—which must violate some type of confidentiality agreement, but what do I know? Now he’s going on about what it’s like being a senior at the University of Central Florida and how he can buy beer now that he’s twenty-one.
I smile, hoping he’ll realize I’m not contributing to the conversation, and take a hint. On second thought, he hasn’t exactly asked me anything about myself. So even if I wanted to contribute something, I don’t see where I could have.
My eyes scan over the kitchen as Rae, Matt’s grandma, and Matt’s mom work together to cook our Thanksgiving dinner. I want to be a part of their conversation, but now Emmet has moved on to telling me about UCF’s superior business program all entrepreneurs should strive to be a part of, and I can’t get away.
I don’t usually write about personal things in my blog. Sure, I’ll share things about music and movies I like, but my personal life is always safely tucked behind the curtain. This conversation with Emmet is giving me plenty of ideas for things to write about, though.
Life Coach or Lost Puppy?
Looking for an escape, my eyes move past Emmet and back into the living room where the guys are watching the half-time show.
I freeze.
Matt and his dad are in the middle of some type of football debate, but Jackson sits comfortably between them, his eyes locked on me. His mouth pulls into a smirk when he sees me looking at him, and I hate it. I hate that he knows I’m miserable talking to Emmet, and I hate even more that he finds enjoyment in it. How is it that the guy talking to me can’t pick up that I’m not interested, but the guy across the room has no problem reading me like a book?
“Margot,” Rae says from the kitchen, pulling my attention away. She waves me over, and I let out a breath of relief. “Sorry, I’ll be right back,” I lie to Emmet and make a run for it.
Rae cuts the ends off green beans at the kitchen counter, and when I walk over, her eyes flicker to Emmet to make sure he’s not watching. “Well, someone seems to like you,” she says quietly.
