‘Ew,’ Emma groaned while she was brushing her teeth. She was staring face to face with her reflection and she didn’t like what she saw. Her hair was messy, bags were drooping under her eyes and she looked like she had just woken up, which she had. Emma was not the morning person.
‘Emma! Tom’s here,’ yelled her father from downstairs, and then left for work. It was part of their daily routine for Tom and Emma to walk to school together.
Emma spat out the toothpaste foaming up in her mouth into the basin and quickly rinsed. She then scurried downstairs with her school bag over her shoulder. Tom was waiting for her at the bottom. As always, he was early and clean-shaved.
His green eyes stared up at her blankly. ‘Wow Em, you look like crap,’ said her best friend. A cheeky smile crept upon his face.
‘Thanks, you really know women don’t you?’ she replied sarcastically
‘Did you even brush your hair?’ he joked. Emma kicked Tom in the shin and left out the front door and commenced walking down the street. Eventually Tom recovered and caught up, limping.
‘Hey Em?’ he gasped, a little out of breath trying to catch up.
‘What?’ she replied gruffly
‘First of all, shit that hurt. And since I’m the greatest friend in the world I’ll forgive you for that one. Second, got a date for the prom yet?’
‘Prom’s not for months, geez you’re more hyped up for this than the prep girls,’
‘Yeah I know but you know that new hot Californian girl who just moved here-’
‘Ask her, that is if she even gives you a chance,’
‘I just thought I’d get your permission first. ‘Cause you know, since we went to the junior prom together and I thought maybe you thought-’
‘We’ve always agreed to go together as a last resort anyway,’
‘I need to make sure before I start asking that you’re not going alone,’
‘Tom, shut up and just ask her okay?’
He swung his arm around her, pulled her in a headlock and playfully ruffled Emma’s hair and continued to do so for the rest of the way to school.
So during English class, Tom thought about possible candidates that could take Emma to the prom. He knew it wouldn’t feel right asking Miss California to the prom for himself until he was certain Emma had someone to go with. He looked around the room. Andrew? No, too short. He went to the next guy. Russell? Too much of a meat head. Damon? No, he rubs with his balls when he thinks no one’s looking. Jay? Too...flamboyant. And the rest of the class didn’t do that well either. They were either known for a certain reputation or just not Emma’s type. Hang on, what is Emma’s type?
Then right on cue, Eric Carter opened the door and walked into the room. The jaws of every member of the class dropped. Eric had that sort of effect on people.
‘Sorry I’m late miss, there was this road accident and I had to stop and resuscitate the injured person on my way to school,’ he said to the stunned Miss Pewter. He ran his fingers through his dishevelled dark hair and then wiped his hands on his jeans that were decorated with freckles of blood.
Perfect, Tom thought to himself, wondering what ever did he do to deserve such luck.
