Beastly (The Ever After Collection) (7 page)

“Have you guys decided what you want to eat?”

Emma and Collette had yet to examine the menus, but like most of the people of Haven Falls who frequented the diner, they knew the dishes listed on the laminated pieces of paper by heart. Only the special of the day – usually soup and a sandwich of some sort – ever changed.

“I’ll have the chicken and bacon wrap, hold the mayo please,” Collette ordered promptly.

Emma took a deep breath, gathering up every last bit of courage she had in an effort to confront Heath about their American Literature project. She knew it was time. It was the reason they’d come to the diner in the first place, after all.

“Emma?” he demanded rudely before she could force herself to speak. “What do you want?” The words were pushed out through clenched teeth and the hidden connotations in them, imagined or not, were enough to make her finally snap.

“What I
want
,” she said hotly, “is to talk to my Lit partner about a massive project we were assigned together. For some stupid reason, however, the unfair jackass is refusing to acknowledge my existence, let alone actually speak to me about the project that’s worth a third of our final grade!”

Charlie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and Collette’s eyebrows shot up at Emma’s sudden outburst. Heath, however, didn’t look impressed in the least. He slowly lowered the small pad of paper he was using to jot down their orders, his steely blue eyes finally meeting hers.

“Maybe,” he pointed out lowly, “the reason he’s ignoring you isn’t nearly as stupid as you seem to think. Maybe he’s just looking out for your best interests since, you know, you seem perfectly incapable of doing such a thing yourself.”

Emma continued to meet his stare head on, ignoring how Charlie continued to gawk and Collette was suddenly pretending to be interested in something on her phone. She wasn’t going to be cowed by Heath, not when that was exactly what he wanted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Whatever,” he scoffed, not explaining himself at all. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Emma threw her hands into the air in exasperation. “You haven’t even given me a chance to understand!”

Heath pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in an obvious show of irritation. “Fine,” he suddenly bit out. “You want to work on this project so …fine,” he repeated. “Let’s do it.”

Emma blinked at his unexpectedly obliging, if not exactly amicable, response. “Um, okay,” she agreed quickly, half afraid he’d change his mind. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” he answered immediately.

Emma worried her bottom lip, suddenly wondering if he knew that she knew the Potters were fostering him. “Alright,” she agreed, releasing her tortured lip. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is… fine.”

Apparently everything was.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They continued to stare at each other. Not in an effort to soul search as some people might assume. Rather, Emma felt as if they were silently daring each other to back down.

Neither did.

Collette cleared her throat. “Well, now that
that
is taken care of, you were going to order, Emma, weren’t you?”

Doing her best to ignore the weird tension that descended at Collette’s reminder, Emma offered the menus to Heath. “I’ll take the roast beef commercial,” she ordered as politely as possible.

“Coming right up,” he bit out before snatching the menus and walking away. Emma made a point not to watch him.

Heath must have talked his way into a break after that because it was Luca who brought them their food. When they were finished eating, they made sure to leave a generous tip (the meal had been free, after all) before rising from their seats. At the last possible second, Emma grabbed their bill – $0.00 though it was – and quickly penned down two simple words. She wasn’t sure if it would be Heath who’d pick it up or if he’d even “get” it, but she wrote them anyway.

I’m sorry.

CHAPTER FIVE

It wasn’t until the next morning that Emma realized what a thoughtless error she’d made. She had never clarified with Heath exactly what time it was that he would be coming over. Sometime in the morning? The afternoon?

Not only hadn’t they picked a time, but she didn’t even know if he knew where she lived. Mr. and Mrs. Potter knew, of course, considering she’d been their go-to babysitter before Heath had arrived, but would he think to ask them?

Emma wasn’t sure.

Honestly, she wouldn’t blame Heath if he decided not to show up at all.

Which was partially why she was so embarrassingly relieved when the doorbell rang a little after noon. Quickly cramming the last of three turkey sandwiches she’d made for her father to take to work that night into a Ziploc bag, she rushed to the living room. She didn’t even bother to peek out the window before throwing open the door.

It was him. Heath. Tension she hadn’t even been aware was there fled from her shoulders. She smiled. “Hi.”

For the first time since Emma had met him, Heath looked unsure of himself. His hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of his coat as he shifted his weight from foot to foot on her doorstep. “Hey.”

The car he’d driven to her house – Emma
assumed
it was his – was parked on the road behind him. The old Chevy with faded red paint clinging to its body and a sizable dent on its hood had character, and Emma could appreciate the fact that someone in her class owned a vehicle nearly as ancient as her own.

Heath cleared his throat, abruptly bringing her attention back to the boy in front of her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, cringing in embarrassment. “Why don’t you come in?” She stepped out of the way so he could do just that. “Do you want something to eat before we get started?”

Emma had tried to work away the nervous jitters she’d experienced while waiting for Heath to show by attempting to bake brownies. “Attempting” being the key word. They’d turned out harder than what she imagined Heath’s head to be. She was fairly certain they wouldn’t kill him though.
Fairly certain
.

Emma didn’t have to worry about being indicted for murder by brownie, however, because Heath just shook his head.

Emma frowned, forehead crinkling as her eyebrows drew together. She hoped Heath didn’t plan on giving her the silent treatment the whole time he was there or it would be next to impossible to get any work done.

Before she could worry too much about
that
, however, Heath proved her wrong by hastily thrusting a piece of paper under her nose. “What’s this supposed to be?” he demanded.

Upon closer inspection, she recognized the paper to be the note she’d written on her receipt yesterday at the diner. The two simple words she’d sprawled out glared up at her accusingly.

“Is this some sad attempt at making fun of me or something? Because-”

“What?” Emma interrupted, finding her voice. “No!” she exclaimed, appalled that Heath would think that. “Of course not! I just…”

“You just what?”

“I was just trying to apologize!” she exclaimed.

Obviously.

“I wanted to say that I was sorry for cornering you at your job and…” For whatever reason the second part of her apology was harder to spit out. “…and for grabbing your hand at the party at Percy’s house. I… I didn’t mean to pry or make you feel uncomfortable.”

Heath stared at her, his expression betraying his incredulity. “You are exasperating.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Uh, have you met you?”

That shocked a laugh out of him, the rich timbre of it making Emma’s face suddenly feel much too warm. He shook his head. “I practically shove you into a lake and yet you’re apologizing to me.”

Emma barely managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. “You didn’t shove me,” she asserted. “I fell.”

Heath shrugged. “Yeah, because of my asshatery.”

“You may have been a bit… abrupt,” she finally settled on, “but I fell because the dock was slippery and I have about as much poise as a newborn deer when I’m on
dry
land. That’s hardly your fault.”

Heath didn’t look like he believed her. “So are we going to work on this project or what?” He was clearly finished with the current line of conversation if his change of subject was any indication.

Emma blanked for a second. “The project. Right. Uh, you can sit on the sofa if you want. I’ll run upstairs and grab my book bag.” She could see that Heath hadn’t bothered to bring his.

Hurrying up the stairs Emma grabbed both her backpack and her laptop before heading back down to the living room. In the minute she’d been absent, Heath had settled himself onto the plaid eyesore taking up a decent chunk of the room’s space. His coat hung off the sofa’s arm as he openly looked around the room. Ignoring the way one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk when he caught sight of the kindergarten picture of her that her dad had sitting on a bookshelf near the television, she plopped down next to him. A respectable distance away, of course.

She dug out her notes for their American Literature project. “Okay, so I was looking at the list of books Miss Blanchett gave us – the half that are still available anyway.” Most of the novels she’d already crossed off in black ink. They’d already been chosen by her classmates that had been assigned
responsible
partners. “I think there are still a few interesting prospects left. I’ve actually read a few of them before.” Yes, she really
was
the biggest book nerd ever. “Have you bothered to look over the list yet? What do you think?”

Heath shrugged, still mostly preoccupied with taking in her living room. “Whatever is fine.”

Emma frowned. “Okay. Well, I was thinking of maybe going with
Gone with the Wind
or
The Catcher and the Rye
.
How to Kill a Mockingbird
is-

“Okay,” Heath abruptly agreed.

Emma blinked. “Okay?”

“
How to Kill a Mockingbird
,” he reiterated, glancing at her like
she
was the one being purposefully obtuse. “Let’s do that one.”

“Oh. Alright.” She had no objections; she was fond of Harper Lee’s classic tale. “Have you read it before?”

Before Heath could answer, the sound of the back door pulling against its hinges, followed by loud barking and nails scraping against wood echoed throughout the room. Emma had completely forgotten about Sawyer. She’d let him out in the yard while she made her dad’s sack lunch. If she hadn’t, there would have been no sack lunch to speak of.

“That’s just my dog,” she assured Heath. “I better go let him in. I’ll be right back.”

Half a minute later, Sawyer bounded in the house, scurrying past her as fast as his legs could move his admittedly hefty body. He beat her to the living room, and Emma fought the urge to laugh at the scene she came upon.

Sawyer had jumped onto the couch and his snout was pressed into Heath’s stomach as he begged the boy for attention. Heath himself was as stiff as a board, hands in the air and positioned on either side of his head like he’d been caught in a stick-up.

His mouth pulled into a taut frown when he caught sight of her grin, which she hastily fought to hide. “This is not a dog,” he objected. “This is a monstrosity with fur.”

Emma couldn't hold back her laugh now and allowed it to bubble up her throat. “Sawyer’s harmless, aren’t you, boy? Come here, leave poor Heath alone. You’re scaring him.”

Sawyer obeyed, the yellow lab carefully lowering himself to the ground before walking to his owner. His tongue lulled out of his mouth as she scratched him behind the ears.

“I wasn’t afraid,” Heath objected tersely. “Just disturbed that you call an animal of his…considerable girth… a pet.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed glued to her face. “He’s perfectly friendly.”

“Too friendly,” Heath grunted. “And in my sophomore year.”

Emma frowned, sitting back on the couch and allowing Sawyer to lay at her feet. “In your sophomore year, what?”

“
To Kill a Mockingbird.
You asked if I’ve read it before. I got through half of it my sophomore year, but had to move schools before I had a chance to finish it.”

Emma bit her bottom lip, her sharp teeth digging into the tender flesh as she thought about the possible reasons
why
he had had to move. She wondered if he’d been in foster care then too. “Oh. Well, I think it’s a great choice for our project. I actually have a copy of it somewhere in my room, I think. You can burrow it if you want. And as you re-familiarize yourself with the text, I’ll start setting up an outline for our report.”

Heath frowned. “Yeah, sure, if you don’t mind, I guess.”

“Not at all,” Emma assured him, ecstatic that they might actually be able to get some work done that afternoon. She hadn’t expected to get much of anything finished except for picking the topic of their report.

Emma found
To Kill a Mockingbird
squeezed between two other novels on the overflowing bookshelf in her room. She brought it downstairs, and for a while she and Heath managed to work in an awkward sort of silence wherein the only noises that permeated the room were the sounds of Heath’s nimble fingers deftly turning pages and Sawyer’s tail rhythmically thumping against the couch. After a half hour had passed, however, the oppressive silence had become too much for Emma and she stood from her place on the couch. “Do you want to watch a movie?” The question had tumbled out of her mouth before she’d truly even thought of the connotations behind it. Heath was only there to study, after all.

Heath glanced up from
To Kill a Mockingbird
at her abrupt movement and blinked stupidly at the question. Emma fought a heated blush from taking over her face when it became apparent that Heath hadn’t thought the silence they’d been sitting in awkward at all. She felt like a dolt for interrupting him and jolting him out of Scout Finch’s head. “Uh, I mean, it’ll provide some background noise. I concentrate better with it.”

Heath shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

Hurrying to peruse the meager collection of DVDs she and her father had stored in one of the cabinets of the television stand, Emma mentally face palmed when she realized about ninety percent of the collection was comprised of movies from her childhood.

“
The Lion King
?” she asked, only half kidding as she peeked over her right shoulder. It was her absolute favorite.

Heath’s brows drew together in a frown. “Never seen it.”

It was a testimony of Emma’s self-control that she managed to keep her jaw from dropping. “You’ve never seen
The Lion King
?” she demanded. “The movie was a staple of my childhood! I didn’t realize that there was anyone left on the planet who
hadn’t
seen it.”

Heath’s jaw noticeably tightened, the hard lines of it growing somehow shaper as he avoided her disbelieving gaze. “Well, I haven’t,” he reiterated frankly.

It was a stark reminder that Emma knew absolutely nothing about
Heath’s
childhood. Except that he’d somehow ended up in the foster care system. For all she knew, he could’ve been in the system for years already. Maybe even before he could walk or talk, let alone have the attention span to sit down and watch a movie.

Attempting to force away the questions that buzzed in her head and the heaviness she could suddenly feel where her heart was supposed to be, Emma busied herself by popping
The Lion King
into the DVD player. “Well, that settles it then,” she said, making an attempt to lighten the mood. “I cannot condone such ignorance of a Disney classic. It would be downright immoral of me to let you leave this house without seeing it.”

Emma sat back on the couch and tried to make her buzzing mind focus on the movie as
The Circle of Life
began blaring out of the television’s speakers. At least she had attempted to focus until Heath opened his mouth and revealed himself to be the absolute worst person to watch a movie with ever.

“Am I watching a lion get baptized?” he demanded.

Emma sighed. “Yeah, pretty much.”

…

“You did not just make me watch a lion murder his brother in cold blood. What the hell? I thought you said this was a kid’s movie.”

Emma sniffed, trying in vain to hide the sheen of tears in her eyes as she attempted to answer him.

“Are you crying?” Heath sounded horrified.

“No!” Emma denied immediately, furiously wiping her eyes before the tears gathering there could fall. “And shush, this is an emotional scene.”

She was shocked when instead of teasing her, Heath scooted closer. His shoulder bumped against hers in what Emma assumed to be a masculine display of comfort. He remained by her side, and Emma spent the rest of the movie trying to keep a blush at bay as his leg stayed steadfastly pressed against hers.