AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I remember the first time I talked to Emmy.
I’d wandered down to the dock at the lake behind the house, looking for silence and solitude.
She walked up about ten minutes later.
I didn’t know she’d already claimed this spot as her own.
The first time was awkward—but nice. She gave me a candy bar.
We both just sat there, neither of us saying a word. It was like she didn’t expect me to, and I didn’t have to.
In all the years she and Mack had been hanging out, I’d never really had a conversation with her.
But she let me sit there, in silence. She read while I wrote. I poured things into that journal that helped me sort things out in my head. Long, run-on sentences, rife with misspelled words and scratched out phrases. Haphazard thoughts that would never be judged, or graded, or seen, but somehow calmed my racing mind.
Unlike me, Emmy was smart. Really smart.
She’d probably graduate at sixteen.
I’d be lucky to graduate at all.
I wasn’t proud of it, and despite what everyone said, it wasn’t that I didn’t try. I know that now, but somehow knowing it doesn’t make it better.
I went back the next night, same thing. Just nice, undemanding silence devoid of expectation.
After three nights of consistent sitting in silence, Emmy finally spoke.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a little lunchbox. She unzipped it and pulled out a small container of brownies.
“Do you want one?” She smiled, and it caught me off-guard. I’d never looked at Emmy as anything other than my sister’s friend. And I didn’t make a habit of hanging out with Mack’s friends.
She held the glass container out to me. “I baked them. I took them out a minute early so they’re warm and gooey. Nobody wants an overbaked brownie.”
I reached in and took out one of the corner pieces.
She smiled again. “The corners are my favorite too.”
My first word to her: “Thanks.”
She set the container between us and took one for herself. Then, she nodded at my journal. “What are you writing?”
I instinctively pulled it a little closer to me.
“Oh, is it private?”
I shrugged. “It’s. . .uh. . .nothing important.”
“Gotcha.”
She didn’t press me for more information, something I wasn’t used to. Most people are always trying to get me to share my thoughts or my feelings or some other garbage that I have no interest in talking about.
I nodded at her book. “What are you reading?” And then, with a smirk, “Or is it private?”
She scrunched up her face, pressing a hand to the book. “It’s a re-read. Sense and Sensibility.”
I nodded and finished off the brownie. “These are really good.”
“I know, right?” She smiled.
