The Way Things Go (ch 2)

         The reception was nothing like the wedding. People danced and ate and got drunk. Not us kids of course, we sat at a little decorated table drinking bad punch and munching on all kinds of different snacks.
         “Thanks for coming with me tonight.” Emmett said out of no where. We had been talking about who was more depressing, Edgar Allen Poe, or Emily Dickinson. So far Emily had been winning the debate.
         “Oh, it's no problem.” I smiled, “I would have just been home by myself. My parents are gone until Monday night.”
         “Why's that?”
         “Their anniversary.”
         “Ah.”
         “Yeah...”
         And suddenly it was awkward. Minutes seemed like hours.
         The D.J. announced something about slowing it down.
         “Do you want to dance?”
         I thought I imagined it.
         “Excuse me?” I said.
         Emmett was standing in front of me—I must have been so spaced out I didn't see him get up— with his hand extended.
         “Do you want to dance?” he repeated.
         “S-sure.” I took his hand. He led me out to the dance floor. My arms on his shoulders, and his hands on my waist. I had to concentrate on breathing and dancing. Sway left, sway right; breathe in, breathe out, repeat. I put my head on his shoulder. I breathed in his scent. He smelled like a sweet cologne, not over powering, but potent. I got lost in our dance. The music faded and switched over to something a little more fast paced. We walked back over to the little table we sat at. Across from each other, I couldn't help catch him stealing glances at me. I laughed.
         “What's funny?” he asked.
         “I don't know. This situation I guess.”
         He looked confused.
         “Don't take this the wrong way, Emmett,” I said, “But you're Emmett White, popular guy. And I'm Sky Morgan, art nerd. The fact that I'm here with you baffles me.”
         He sighed and pushed his bangs out of his face, “Sky, I told you, you're different than the other girls at school.” He scooted closer to me. Some hair fell in my face and he pushed it behind my ear. I felt myself blush hardcore. Our faces were inches away.
         Oh God, I thought, he's going to kiss me. All signs point to it. If he doesn't, he'll be violating so many clichés.
         He smiled. His cool hand on my warm face. He leaned in. His lips brushed mine, and he pulled me into the kiss.

         At school on Monday, word of Emmett and I's kiss had gone public. Everywhere I turned someone was asking me for details. Were we dating? Did we do more than kiss? Was he a good kisser? Questions, questions, questions. The answers were these: We did not do more than kiss. He was a superb kisser. And as for the dating questions, well, we hadn't actually talked about that.
         In ceramics, Emmett and I barely had a chance to talk. Mr. Net was explain our newest project. We would be assigned partners to recreate a famous painting, but in ceramic form. It would take the rest of the semester, and would be worth sixty-five percent of our semester grade. It was a huge project. As Mr. Net called off names for partners, I anticipated who I would be placed with. As by some cruel prank by fate, I was paired with Emmett.
         I smiled weakly when Mr. Net had paired us together. When I looked over at him, Emmett just had a that's no so bad, but it could have been better look. I was disappointed. Why would he just kiss me like he did and then blow me off? It wasn't like him at all. Well, it could have. I didn't even know him...
         Ceramics was the last class of the day. The final bell rung and we all collected our things and filed out of the class.
         “Sky, wait up!” Emmett called after me.
         I slowed down so he could catch up, but kept walking.
         “Hey,” he said.
         “Hey.”
         “Sorry if I seemed... off... in class.”
         “Don't worry about it.” We stopped at my locker.
         He talked as I put in the combination, “Well, listen, I was wondering. There's a dinner thing at my house tonight, with my parents, I was wondering if you'd want to come?”
         I grabbed my stuff out of my locker then shut it, “How come you kissed me?”
         He looked taken aback, “B-because.”
         “Because why?”
         “I don't know, Sky.”
         “You can't just kiss someone for no reason. Do you like me or something?”
         Silence.
         “I didn't think so.” I turned to go, but he pulled be towards him.
         He kissed me again. It was full of apology.
         I sighed when the kiss ended, and I looked around. The whole population of the hallway was in awe. All of the girls' jaws were dropped, and the boys looked as if it were impossible that Emmett mo-fo'ing White had just kiss Sky “Pippy” Morgan. Had I not been present and involved, I would not have believed it myself.
         “What time tonight?”
         “I'll come get you at six.” He smiled.
         I spun on my heal, walking through the parting crowd as if I were a celebrity.