FicWad

Four years later...

Emily sat curled up on the couch, a magazine open in her lap. She grew bored with the article, so she glanced around the room. Her eyes scanned the many frames on the wall; her nursing degree, framed in handsome mahogany, a picture of her outside the university, dressed in her graduation gown stuck into the corner of the frame. A pleasant snapshot of Emily and Hanna-Bella, arms around each other, framed in glittering silver. A professional photograph of Emily and...her eyes rested on the chair across the room from her, and she smiled. Mitchy. He glanced up from his newspaper, peering over the tops of his smart glasses, and he smiled sweetly, his blonde hair falling into his clear blues eyes.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked Emily.
Emily cast her magazine aside and crossed the cozy living room to Mitchy's overstuffed arm chair, and crawled into his lap.
"About how lucky I am."
"What do you mean?"
She smiled, her eyes burning into Mitchy's seductively.
"Great job, great friends...and you, m'dear."
Mitchy grinned and kissed her passionately.
"Lucky indeed..." they kissed again, and both of their gazes fell on the bedroom door, just visible down the hall. Mitchy winked and the two stood up, hand in hand, heading down the hall...
BUZZZZZZ.
"Damn doorbell " Mitchy cried, letting go of Emily's hand, "It's nearly nine o'clock, who the hell..."
"I'll get it. Wait for me." she winked and headed for the entry way, leaving Mitchy behind. Emily opened the front door a crack, and stopped dead. She drew a sharp breath and grasped the wall for support. Were the walls closing in on her? Was the sky falling? Emily took a deep breath and whispered, her shaky voice barely audible,
"Peter?"
With great hesitation, she opened the door wider still, her head spinning.
"P-Patrick? And-dy? /Joe/?"
There, on Emily's front porch, stood the four men she hated so much, the four men who had caused so much heartbreak and sadness. They all smiled shyly, and Pete spoke, his words careful and gentle;
"Emily. It's been a while."
Pete studied Emily; this was not the girl he remembered. Her shoulder length dark hair, normally loose and falling in graceful waves around her shoulders, was pulled into a high, tight ponytail, preppy and pretty. Her dark makeup was gone, replaced with light blue eye shadow. Patrick's Greenday shirt had become a neat, pink v-neck cashmere sweater, and her ripped, faded jeans were now neatly pressed and perfect blue. Her blue eyes were full of hurt.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered.
Patrick stepped forward, his eyes glassy; "We missed you."
Emily said nothing, Emily did nothing. Emily simply stared. Why was everything spinning?
Uncomfortable silence washed over the group, and nothing was said for five agonizing minutes. Then, Emily, beginning to cry, said; "Why are you here, and how did you find me?"
Pete glanced at the other three on the porch, and turned back to Emily; "Patrick just told you. We missed you, thought we'd look you up...phone books and some internet research. You're website is nice, impressive resume. You're a nurse now, huh?"
Emily didn't seem to hear; she was slowly and gently shaking her head, eyes wide and terrified. Pete sighed and stepped closer still to the door, the others following. He reached out and gently touched Emily's cheek, but before he could say anything, Mitchy appeared behind Emily.
"Who are these guys, Emily?" he inquired, frowning.
Emily tore herself away from Pete's eyes, and grabbed Mitchy's hand.
"These are some...some guys I used to know." she said shakily.
"Pleased to meet you." Mitchy said professionally, nodding his head in their direction.
The four men on the porch smiled and waved awkwardly.
"And this is...?" Pete asked Emily.
Emily took a deep breath and said; "This is Mitchy. My fiancé."
Dead silence met their ears, and a cricket chirped somewhere in the distance, heard through the open door. Patrick was the first to speak;
"Nice to meet you."
Pete was wide-eyed with shock, his mouth slightly agape.
Andy now spoke for the first time;
"Emily, would you like to go get a coffee or something?"
"Uh, actually, we were just in the middle of something..." Mitchy began, trailing off, but Emily squeezed his hand and made a quick decision.
"Yes. Coffee'd be nice."
"But, Em-"
"Mitchy, I'll be home in a bit."
"You're just gonna take off with these guys? "
"They're people I know. It's fine."
Emily kissed Mitchy's cheek, and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door firmly behind her.
Now she smiled, the awkwardness not completely gone, but effort was being made to squish it.
"It has been a while."

A silent van ride later, Emily was sitting with Pete, Patrick, Andy and Joe in a little Starbucks downtown, each clutching a cup of coffee. Emily drew a shaky breath, and spoke in a hushed voice;
"Do you know what depression feels like?"
"Emily, we all went through a rough time after what-" Patrick began, but was cut off by and increasingly hysterical Emily.
"No, Patrick, clinical depression." she said sharply.
Patrick shut his mouth and shook his head.
Tears streamed silently down Emily's pale cheeks.
"For two years, I dealt with it. Do you know what it's like to hate the morning sunshine, yet to be afraid of the dark, empty apartment?"
"Em, we had no idea..." Andy whispered, wide-eyed.
"I used to cut myself." she whispered.
The four boys expected her to roll up her sleeves, but instead bent over and rolled up her jeans and rolled down her crisp white socks, revealing the tattoo that she hated so much. The tiny black lettering was distorted and the skin was raised in places, thin red scars visible. Pete drew a sharp breath and spoke for the first time since the porch;
"You...you cut your ankle? "
"Self mutilation is a common side-effect of depression and is not restricted to simply the wrists. Lots of people cut their arms, legs, etc." Emily said matter-of-factly, sounding rather like a text-book. She rolled her jeans back down, and placed her hands in her lap, looking down.
"I was stupid. I stayed in the old apartment."
"For how long?" Joe pried gently.
"About a year and a half."
The four men shook their heads sadly.
"But you eventually left, right?" Andy asked.
"Hanna-Bella made me move in with her. I pushed myself through nursing school, I got over the depression slowly, but eventually. I graduated from the nursing program and met Mitchy. I moved into his house, we got engaged. Life's been good. I'd forgotten about you guys." Emily whispered the last phrase, and looked up again.
Pete bit his lower lip, and spoke;
"It's been hell without you, Emily. We've made three records so far, we're releasing a new one in February. We're famous and have the greatest fans, we tour for months on end and have a blast."
"Real hell." Emily said sarcastically.
"But the nights are the hardest." Pete whispered, trying to keep himself together.
Emily stared at him hard.
"Haven't you had a love life?"
"Yeah."
"Peter, I got over you."
"And I got over you...kind of."
Emily shook her head, looking confused.
"Kind of?"
"So what's Mitchy like?" he inquired boldly.
Emily drew a sharp, angry breath.
"Four years, Peter, four years."
Pete reached across the table and took Emily's free hand with both of his, stroking it gently, and looking deep into her eyes;
"We never got our chance, Em. We were over before we even began."
Emily yanked her hand away, and stood up, grabbing her purse.
"You had your chance, Peter. It lasted about three years. Next time, get off your ass and call me." And she headed for the door.
"Emily, wait " Pete cried, jumping up. Emily slowly turned to face him.
"I lost you once, Emily, please don't do this again." he cried.
Emily studied him, and then turned to the other three boys, who were watching the scene in silence.
"Patrick, call me in the morning." she decided, and she left the Starbucks.