Robyn Hook
Our strictly platonic, stronger than a diamond cutter, never ending, forever affectionate friendship started on the fifth grade playground. I had always been an active kid, already having so much experience in sports even if I was only in fifth grade. I remember the first time we met as clear as day. The day I met the person I love the most. My best friend.
~~~
That one fateful day during fifth grade, it was a hot recess. We were all obnoxious, sweaty kids playing out in the sun. We didn't care, playing knockout and basketball, having the time of our lives. It became so unbearably hot that the people I was playing with took a break and had idle conversations under the shade of the nearby forest. Still having energy left, I continued to practice playing basketball by myself, shooting hoops time after time. Though I was known for a chatterbox, I would much rather practice alone than talk about girls. Boring. When I was aiming for a particular shot, a very intense game of tag passed by me, causing my shot to be way off as the ball rebounded off the backboard and onto the playground.
I looked for it everywhere and eventually found it under one of the many playsets, under the one with a fire pole. I had not expected to see a boy reading a book. He was so engrossed in his story that he didn't even realize the presence of either me nor the ball. I crouched next to him and practically yelled into his ear.
"Hey!" The boy jumped in place at my sudden outburst. I could tell he was antisocial. I retrieved my ball and observed the boy. He had sun kissed, olive skin with enchanting green-hazel eyes that made me want to stare at them all day. His dark hair was matted to his forehead due to the sweat under the sun's unrelenting rays of heat. We continued to stare at each other as I held my ball in my lap. "Hi there! My name is Robyn Hook!"
The boy wrinkled his nose in thought. "Like Robin Hood?"
I snorted, having the bitter reminder of having such an unfortunate name. My teachers and coaches sometimes called me Robin Hood or Birdie just for fun. "Nah." I ignored what he said. "What's your name?"
Knowing he probably wouldn't get back to reading anytime soon, he bookmarked his page and gently set the thick book next to him. He sighed and used the back of his hand to wipe his sweat. Even under the playset, it was still hot. "Emerson Scott." He pursed his lips and said no more.
"Cool! What're you reading? That's a pretty thick book, how many pages are there?"
He put a protective hand over his book and shuffled away from me, clearly uncomfortable, yet I still pried. "I don't like reading. It's boring. But I guess I have to for school. My parents said so. I can't play basketball if I don't read."
"Seesaw," he suddenly blurted.
I gave him a confused look and he looked at the mulch next to me. "What do you mean seesaw? You wanna ride on it with me? Is that what you're saying?"
He shook his head. "No, that's the name of the book I'm reading."
I saw him visibly relax after we talked about the book for a while and he made eye contact with me once again, this time not as awkward. "Do you want to swing with me?" Emerson asked quickly. I stood up abruptly and held my hand out.
I gave him a goofy grin and pointed my thumb at the swing sets. "Sure! We can swing together!" As he took my hand, that was the moment I knew that was the beginning of a long, blossoming friendship that could stand the test of time.
~~~
Em and I were at my house, gathering all the bedding and pillowcases, making sure to throw in some hand towels as well. Just as my mom had asked. The pile grew at the door and right before we were about to take it to throw in my mom's van, said mom stumbled down the stairs. Before I could even blink, Emerson was already by her side and I immediately followed suit. Em held her hand and used his other hand to rub circles on her back.
"Mom! What happened?! Are you okay? Where are you hurt?" As I scanned her up and down, Em looked at me sadly, wrinkling his nose.
"She reeks of alcohol," he whispered. Listening to Em, I brought my nose closer to her as I embraced her, her breathing shallow and labored as she just sat at the base of the stairs.
I gave Em a lookâwhich he, gratefully, comprehended perfectlyâleaving us alone with the dirty laundry in his arms as he scurried to the van. "Mom, what did I say about drinking? Especially if it's daytime and you're upstairs. What about your health, think about yourself for once!" I tried to not raise my voice and wanted to make a point to her. It was difficult as she appeared as if everything flowed through one ear and came out the other. She lulled her head back in forth as if in a trance. She was so wasted. How much could she had drunk while we were gone? "Mom, where's Auntie Elsie?"
She finally gave me a response in slurred speech. "Elsie? Oh, Sissie went to the city. I think she's at the pub." I cursed under my breath. She was supposed to be taking care of my mom, not be a gardening tool. That was the whole reason why she came here. Now she's really reinforcing my idea of her being a bum and cheap-skating her way into our household. "Sissie didn't come home last night." She then closed her eyes and giggled hysterically. "Oh, my little Birdie. Robyn, my child. I love you soo much." She started to stroke my hair and make bird noises, cooing at me as if I were still a child.
"I love you too, Mom." If she really loved me, she should care enough to look after herself like I've always said. My aunt and I were going to have a nice little chat after all of this. I sighed as I helped her get up and walk to the couch. Gently laying her on the cushions, I crouched next to her. "Sleep well, Mom." She just hummed in response, her eyes still shut, and cuddled with one of the pillows before falling into a deep slumber. After I made sure she was safe, I left a very kind (note my sarcasm) voicemail for my aunt and ran upstairs to my mom's bedroom.
I wasn't surprised to see her recently used bottles scattered across the carpet and her bed. I looked for her stash and frowned when I saw boxes of them under her bed. Of course she lied about promising to stop drinking so much. I took a nearby trash can and filled it to the brim with the bottles and took the cases of alcoholic beverages to my next door neighbor. Surely they'd be much more appreciated under their household rather than our own. My neighbors accepted it with pitying smiles as I gave them a sad one. By the time I finished, I lazily plopped into the driver's seat of my mother's van and sighed in exhaustion, resting my head on the steering wheel. Emerson sat in the passenger's seat silently, allowing for me to think over my mother's actions.
"This has become too much," I said under my breath
"Again?" Em inquired as he finally spoke up.
I sighed pitifully. "She promised she would stop," I stated bitterly. "She started drinking heavily again because her boyfriend dumped her. They were only together for a few weeks. I have no idea how she could get so attached. She's been like this every time she broke up with her whole harem of boyfriends after... dad died."
"What about your aunt?"
"She's too busy being a slut. I knew it." I started up the van, cranking up the air conditioner. "My aunt said that she would take care of her! But look at my mother now! If this happens one more time I'm gonna leave her unfaithful ass on the streets," I grumbled under my breath. Emerson gently rested his hand on my shoulder, a comforting touch I was deprived of and yearned for. I sighed and smiled softly.
Emerson booped my nose. "Don't worry, I'll help with your mom." There was something in my chest that I couldn't quite place with that simple action. Skinship was something very normal in our friendship but for some reason there was a feeling of a pit in my stomach filled with fluttering. I tried to look at Emerson's face, tracing his unbelievably long eyelashes that girls would be jealous of, his unique heart-shaped birthmark under his green-hazel eyes, and the faint freckles scattered across his beautifully tan skin. I held my chest in a coughing fit as I quickly averted my gaze, feeling the heat rise up to my cheeks. He held up his hand to my forehead. "Are you okay?" I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat as I drove, grip tightening on the wheel. What was happening to me?
"Ahem. Yeah I am. Thanks Em. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Same, dude," Emerson said as he retracted his hand from my face. I suddenly felt cold and wanted it to come back. Wait. What? I kept my eyes trained on the road as I plastered a smile to hide my panic. Was I catching feels? From my best friend?
Oh no.
~~~
At lunch I sat with Emerson, obviously, and most of my basketball teammates. He sat across from me, so it was especially difficult to avoid eye contact. I know, it was getting ridiculous, but since I realized I had a form of a crush on him a few days ago, it was getting really hard to act normal around him when my heart rate went a million miles per minute. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack soon. Every little thing he did I noticed, and the things I already knew about him hit differently. He constantly had a faint, natural blush painted across his cheekbones and nose which didn't help my situation any better. Out of all the guys in the world, it had to be Em. Screw me. I slapped myself and was brought into reality as one of my teammates sitting next to me pinched my arm.
"Earth to Robyn? Dude, I've been calling your name like fifty times." I rolled my eyes at Nathan and risked a glance at Emerson. He sat with a concerned look and I quickly transposed my gaze to Nathan. "So, what do you say about the party?"
"What?"
"Dude, I knew you were slow but catch up. I'm having a party on Friday night at eight. The rest of the team is coming and somehow Oliver got the cheerleaders to come as well. That would be it, no drugs, no alcohol. Or at least I hope not, my parents would kill me. My maid is gonna be there so who knows what she might say to them." I nodded slowly to catch up with him.
"Well are you going, Em?" I asked as I poked at my food.
Emerson shrugged. "Sure, if you're gonna go."
I clapped my hands together. "Well then, yeah! I'm down."
~~~
Later that day, I crashed at Em's house as I hung out in his room. I laid on his bed, propping my feet against the headboard as Em spun around on his rolling chair. "So," Emerson drawled, "What kind of high school party is this going to be without the drugs and alcohol?"
I snorted at the thought of Emerson going to a social event in the first place. "You don't go to parties and it shows," I said in mockery. He just rolled his eyes and chucked a pencil at me that barely grazed my ear. "You missed." He just sighed and I continued talking. "Anyways, this is Nathan we are talking about. He acts like the goody-two shoes, basic all-American boy. His parents have security cameras everywhere. This is going to be like a middle school party. I guess we can hang around the pool. And I'm not talking about billiards. They also have board games and stuff like that, but I suck at those so I doubt I'll even try one."
"Pool? Isn't it kinda cold for a pool?" He was sorta right since it was autumn and the leaves dried as the temperature dropped.
I shook my head. "Nah, they have an indoor heated pool. His parents got the stacks and you'll see once you go to his house. He lives in a gated community with houses that start at prices almost at five million. But his house alone is built different, it's around fourteen to fifteen million." His eyes widened, which was completely understandable. We both had reasonably humble homes that were the basic two floors, and not too big. This money talk got me thinking about how impossibly rich his parents were, it was crazy. At this point, I would call what Nathan lives in a 'house,' rather, a mansion is more suffice. Or a luxury estate mimicking a life of a duke.
"A fifteen million?! No wonder why he flexes his phones and wears expensive clothes. Here I was thinking he wore fake designer clothing just for show." Emerson just sat dumbfounded in his chair.
I smirked. "If you beg enough he'll probably give you something from his closet that's bigger than both of our rooms combined."
Emerson just looked at me skeptically and sighed, not amused. "Are you talking from personal experience?" Then his eyes shone bright with mirth. "I knew you were a gold digging hoe."
I put a hand over my hand, feigning denial. "Oh no, you've caught me."
Emerson just rolled his eyes as his eyes flickered to the door. "I'm hungry. Do you wanna go downstairs and get a bite? We have tons of snacks in the pantry."
I shrugged. Who wouldn't pass up a chance to eat free food. "You don't have to tell me twice." I hooked an arm around his neck as we walked downstairs to the kitchen.
I made a dash to the pantry, swinging the door so wide that it hit the wall. "Oops," I said non-committedly as Emerson gave me the 'mom look.' "Dang, y'all have a lot of snacks. Hmm. What to choose from?" My fingers hovered the myriad of food, eyes scanning the brands. I settled with caramel and cheddar popcorn mix, making sure to grab a bottle of juice too. Plopping onto one of the chairs surrounding the table, the popcorn bag opened with a satisfying pop.
Em raised an eyebrow at me. "Really? I was actually craving that." He sighed then ducked his head into the pantry before taking out some weird whole wheat snacks. Emerson reached over to try finesse some popcorn. Teasingly, I jerked the bag away last second, causing him to land flat on his face on the table, his chin bashing the tabletop with a painful sound. He slowly raised his head and when we made eye contact I knew I screwed up. He scowled at me after yelling, "Hey!" He then tried to, stupidly, tackle me from his spot which resulted in my juice and all its contents spilling all over my clothes, drenching and staining my shirt.
I frowned with a sassy raised eyebrow. "Ah, I need to change my shirt now."
He stuck his tongue out like a little child. "You started it." We goofed around, acting like we were fighting when in actuality it was a bit of hair-pulling and playful cursing. And of course, at that moment, his mom decided to enter the kitchen with her laptop near her hip, clad in a wrinkled white blouse, sweatpants, and fluffy slippers. Diana worked at home due to being an interior designer. Occasionally she would leave the house for business reasons once every blue moon. She donned her usual messy bun and now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Em, what are you, five?" She laughed. "I'm not even going to ask." Narrowing her eyes, she chastised her son. "Em give him one of your shirts." She set down her laptop on the island table and went to the coffee machine. When she didn't hear us move she gave a look over her shoulder. "Well, boys, are you going or not?"
We scrambled up the stairs, laughing, as I gave her a peace signs and an apologetic smile.
"Guess you've gotta wear one of my shirts," Emerson sighed. "Wait, no. Don't you still have some still in my drawers?"
I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head slightly. "You really don't want me wearing one of your shirts, huh?"
He chuckled softly. "Nah, it's fine. Choose whatever you want."
I chucked off my juice-stained shirt, subtly making sure that I avoided eye contact with Em. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I faced my back towards him as I dug threw his cabinet.
"Hey! I just folded those!"
I threw a look over my shoulder and snorted. "You and I both know that you never fold your clothes." My eyebrows furrowed at a shirt I found. "What's this?" I held up a white, long-sleeved shirt with a small rainbow embroidered with small clouds under it. It was a small detail, but it was cute. The sleeves and the whole bottom hem were lettuce-edged while the high-neck of the shirt was sky blue. Completely out of my casual street-style, I threw it on anyways. I turned around to Em with a stupid grin on my face. "I'm in my final form," I joked, striking a flamboyant pose.
"I... forgot I owned that shirt," Em thought aloud. I knew Em had a pastel phase, but I never remembered him wearing this shirt. Time to time he'd still wear pastel clothes of course, but not all his clothes were that specific aesthetic now. But no complaints coming from me. He grinned while looking at me. "It suits you, you can keep it if you want." Scratch that, my heart just spiked for a second.
I looked into the mirror. I laughed. "This wouldn't suit my whole bad-boy aesthetic whatsoever." It was short, showing a considerable amount of my midriff, especially considering he was shorter than me. I quickly changed into a peach-colored tee of his.
"Bad-boys who wear leather jackets are secretly soft inside. Change my mind."
"Are you speaking from personal experience, Em?"
"Of course. You're just a big softie who acts like the stereotypical basketball captain that has to act tough all the time."
"Wow, no need to dissect and psycho-analyze me."
He shrugged. "You never denied it."
I said nothing and just shook my head. "Speaking of soft, I feel like eating candy. I think I crave a lot of sugar lately."
"What are you implying, Robyn?"
"Let's go to the candy store. What do you say?"
"Sure, let's get diabetes."
The ride was fun to the mall. Life is always fun with Emerson. The whole time we were singing Heathers, the musical songs since it reminded us of the song 'Candy Store.'
Emerson couldn't stop laughing and wheezing after I belted the first part of the song with my whole chest.
"Are we going to have a problem?" I first started.
"Do you have a bone to pick?"
"You've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?"
"I'd normally slap your face off, so everyone here could watch."
Then we sang together. "But I'm feeling nice, here's some advice, listen uP BIOTCH!" Okay, more like screamed that out. I snapped in a z-formation.
We ate in the food court first and foremost before doing any actual shopping. Oh the perks of being teen boys with high metabolisms.
"What is it today, breadsticks and pizza or Japanese food?" He asked as we looked around at all the food around us.
"Those breadsticks are really good dipped in spicy cheese," I shrugged.
"Breadsticks and pizza it is."
We ate, barely talking, as we stuffed our faces with the cheapest yet most delicious breadsticks of our lives. I don't care that I paid an extra two dollars for cheese alone. It was that good. We both had an excessive amount of food around our lips. Em had a whole dot of cheese on the corner of his mouth. Without even thinking, I reached my index finger out, wiped it, and licked it.
Before even registering what I had done, I merely said,"How dare you waste this heavenly substance of food." Then the realization hit me like a truck-no, it crash landed on me. Why is this hitting differently? We did stuff like this all the time, but then my heart ran a hundred miles a minute, my palms became sweaty, and I couldn't make eye contact. As I was having an existential crisis, a two girls walked up to the table.
"Is this seat taken?" One of them asked. Both were equally dressed like they were going to a nightclub.
Baffled, I furrowed my eyebrows since there were plenty of free chairs around us. I said no anyways, thinking they'd grab a chair and go. I was sorely mistaken. They sat down next to us, uncomfortably close and overall just an invasion of privacy. My once polite smile turned into a grimace and the corners of my mouth twitched in agitation.
"Do you need something?" I said, restraining my voice from completely sounding like it was dripping in sizzling poison. Which was a very difficult thing I may add, especially when there was a thot sitting a few inches from me with perfume that burned my nostrils and wrecked my sense of smell. I felt nauseous as I got a migraine. Maybe I got hit too hard in the head with a basketball one too many times.
The girl closest to me decided to lean even closer. Personal space was apparently a foreign concept to her and I clenched my jaw as she spoke. "What I need is your number," she winked. I wanted to throw up. On her. It honestly would have been an upgrade. At least it would've covered more skin. It's too cold to wear that, but then again, a hoe never gets cold.
"Not interested," I said with a hard gaze. As if she wasn't close enough for me to smell her spearmint bubblegum breath, she decided to touch me.
Caressing my arm, she made her voice sickly sweet. "Oh, come on, don't you want to hang out with me?" Suddenly I've lost my appetite. She looked up at me through her eyelashes. She was pretty, but I was pretty gay, so she never had a chance in the first place. I retracted my arm and placed it under the table as my hands balled into fists.
I flicked my gaze over to Emerson, who was talking to the other girl as if he knew her.
"What's your name, cutie?" The other girl said, twisting her red hair in her fingers.
"Emerson," he said with a small, civil smile.
"What's your snap?"
He shrugged. "Sorry, I don't have Snapchat."
She made a weird face with furrowed brows. Then asked, "An Instagram?"
I noticed he hesitated for a moment but I knew they didn't. Being best friends with him all these years gets you to notice these things. "I don't have any social media, actually." Aha. A lie. I knew he had a private nerdy twitter to stalk his favorite authors. But he did have an Instagram that very few people know about.
The girl pursed her lips and leaned back in the chair. As her gaze raked over the both of us, she sighed. "It's hopeless, Aria. What kind of person doesn't have any social media?" She scoffed and I had to restrain myself from slapping her.
Aria, who was sitting next to me, sighed loudly. When she got up, she rolled her eyes and stalked away. "I told you they were gay." My jaw muscle twitched as I coldly glared at their retreating backs. Her condescending tone rubbed me the wrong way.
My facial expression softened when I faced towards Em. "I mean at least one of us is gay," I snorted. I pushed back my food. "After that fiasco I just wanna grab my candy and go."
Em nodded in understanding with a slight frown and dumped our trays for me.
~~~
By the time we arrived home, I mean Emerson's home, I had already simultaneously ate seven pixie sticks and smarties. I was surprised that the lights in the house were still on.
Emerson looked at me with slight consternation. "Slow down there, Robyn. You're going to have a massive sugar crash."
I downed another pixie stick and looked at him challengingly. "And what if I do? It's not like I already live off Powerade and monster energy drinks."
He facepalmed. "Oh my goodness, Robyn, you're literally going to die."
"And what if I do?" I repeat again, cackling with the sugar flowing through my blood system.
We walked into the living room to Emerson's dad, Charlie, lying on the couch reading a book. That's where Em got his love of books from. Diana was hardworking as always, still on her computer and looking intently at whatever was on the screen. Emily was sitting on the ground, playing with her dolls and talking to herself. When she looked at me, her face lit up as she leapt up and ran to me.
Emily hugged my legs and looked up. "Birdie!"
I smiled and lifted her up, resting her against my hip. "Good evening, Emily," I greeted as I patted her back.
Em chuckled behind me. "Oh, so Emily can call you Birdie but I can't? I have been mortally wounded," he said as he feigned indignation, hand on chest in a dramatic flourish.
"She's the only exception, right, Emily?" I stuck my tongue out at him and she followed suit, making a raspberry noise.
"Yeah! Birdie is right. I'm the only one, take that Emmie!" Emerson fondly shook his head. "Are you sleeping over, Birdie?" She played with my hair as I made silly faces at her.
"Hmmm, am I?" I thought aloud, an eyebrow raised to Emerson.
Charlie interjected from his place on the couch. "You're always welcome to stay here, Hook. Think of this as your second home." He smiled at me at which I returned gratefully. Oh how badly I wanted to say I didn't consider my actual home a home at all, but a personal hellscape. I wanted to run away from it all. Maybe for one more night at least. I bit my lip in thought.
"Pretty please with whipped cream, sprinkles, and a cherry on top?" Emily begged me with pouted lips and wide eyes, knowing just how vulnerable I was to her puppy-like cuteness.
With one last glance at Em, I surrendered to the Scott family. "Thank you for your everlasting hospitality. I'll be staying over. Don't worry, I won't be a nuisance."
"That's what they all say!" Diana called out from the kitchen.
~~~
That night, Em and I shared a bed, just like always. I climbed in first, nearest the wall, and pulled the sheets up to my chin. This time I decided to sleep with a shirt on. For some reason I kept it on, which Emerson noticed, but didn't comment. He slipped in quietly and tucked himself next to me, our arms touching as we cuddled.
It's been like this since we were young, but as his smooth breathing filled the silence in the room, my heartbeat pounded loudly in my ear drums. I cast my gaze down at his sleeping figure and I had never wanted to protect anything more in my life. Or audibly coo at someone. Struggling to sleep, I settled for staring at the ceiling, still as Em was in my arms.
He stirred and I stopped breathing for a second. "Robyn?" His raspy voice said quietly. It was so faint that I almost didn't catch it.
"Go back to sleep," I whispered to him.
His eyes were still closed but he continued to talk. "I'd say the same to you."
"I'm fine, it's just the sugar still got my blood kinda pumping. I'll be knocked out in a few."
It was silent before he decided to speak up again. "I told you to lay it easy on the sugar," he laughed quietly. "Goodnight, Robyn." He kisses my cheek and I felt them set afire.
"Goodnight, Em." Not long after that, Em fell back to sleep, leaving me to my own thoughts in the dark night
~~~
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