Not Today, But Someday(8)

She’s always encouraged me, for as long as I can remember. She built the art room for me. It’s probably my favorite place in the world. It’s not just the room I learned to become an artist in. It’s the room that taught me how to feel. It’s the room where I discovered who I was.

“Can I come see what you’re working on?” she asks.

“Yeah, but give me an hour.” I’ve never denied her entrance into the room whenever she likes, but she always asks first anyway. Her creativity and support has been something that’s motivated me; it’s something that drives me to better myself. I do love my mom.

I’d never want to hurt her.





CHAPTER 5 - EMI





On the bathroom floor, I finally start to unpack the box of beauty products. It had been sealed tight since the week before Christmas, but I want to wear lipstick today. Joey’s coming today. I find the darkest red color I can find – and the matching liner – and paint my lips like my sister taught me when I was twelve. It was one of the few useful things Jen had taught me.

Discovering an opened package of small barrettes, I find a couple that don’t match and pull my bangs back into two very small pigtails. Adding a little more mousse to my hair, I think it finally looks perfectly messy.

“Emi, come on! Other people need in there.” My brother bangs on the door three times to make his point.

“Go use Mom’s!” I whine to my brother. I hate having to share a bathroom with him. And meanwhile, Dad’s in our old four-bedroom-four-bath house, all by himself. Well, he does have the stupid cat. They deserve each other.

“She’s still asleep,” he pleads with me. “I don’t want to wake her up.”

“Fine,” I say, throwing open the door and averting my face as I try to side-step him.

“Did you put on makeup?” he asks, then laughs.

“No,” I snarl at him. “My lips are chapped.”

“Sure they are.” He shuts the door, but makes sure to recite the lyrics to a song loud enough for me to hear.





“And if I seem to be confused, I didn’t mean to be with you.”





“Not funny!” I yell as loud as I can.





“Oh, Joey, I’m not angry anymore!”1





My brother cannot sing, so his attempts at belting out the Concrete Blonde song are very poor. I can hear him laugh over the running water of the shower. I’m glad he can’t see my reaction, because it is kind of funny. It wasn’t so funny last year, but I can laugh about it now.

I’d had a crush on my brother’s friend since I was in the sixth grade. In fact, he was the reason Jen taught me how to put on makeup in the first place. My first crush. Joey spent a lot of time at our house, mainly playing video games with Chris. I’d become pretty good at some multi-player games myself, just so I could get more time with him.

Joey, though, didn’t like me in return, no matter what I did. He always saw me as Chris did, as a little sister – even though Joey was only a couple months older than me. So when he asked me to go to the movies last year, it was a complete surprise. It was a little strange that Chris didn’t know about it before I came home from school that day, walking on clouds, but I didn’t care. When my brother asked his friend what was going on, Joey just asked if he could keep it between me and him. I started practicing writing my new last name that afternoon. Emi Amons. Mr. and Mrs. Joey and Emi Amons. Joseph and Emily Amons. And we lived happily ever after.

Right.

Joey had a hardship license, which I thought was so cool. My mom, caught up in the excitement, bought me a new outfit and helped me get ready for my first date. Chris had left the house early that afternoon on his bike, feeling uncomfortable with the situation all of a sudden. I didn’t know that until later. His loyalty had been tested, and he’d chosen wrong. Again, I’d find this out that evening.

His friend showed up a little before six. He came up to the front stoop and rang the doorbell, and I’d let my dad open the door for me. Of course my parents knew Joey already, and thought he was a good enough kid, so they didn’t do the typical grilling that I’d seen them do with all of my sister’s suitors. I was over-dressed, compared to what he was wearing. I’d let my mother talk me into a skirt and a silk blouse, but Joey was wearing what he typically wore: blue jeans and a t-shirt with a cartoon character on it. I felt a little silly, but I wanted him to know that I thought he was special. I should have turned that logic around, and realized that he was letting me know that I wasn’t that special to him. It would have saved me from certain embarrassment that was to come.

When I got to the car, there was another girl in the backseat. She appeared to be a little younger than us, wearing jeans and a button-down blouse.

“Emi, this is my step-sister, Mariah,” he’d said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. I was still standing on the curb, hoping he’d open the door for me. “It’s unlocked.”

Why I didn’t just turn around and march back into my house, I’m not sure. I was still holding out for hope, I guess. I climbed into the front seat and said hi to Mariah, still not understanding what was going on.

“Thanks for coming with me,” she’d said as we got near the theater. “I really wanted to see this movie, but none of my friends would go.” Joey didn’t respond. I couldn’t believe she was going with us to see this movie – that my first date would be accompanied by another girl. I looked ahead and smiled.