Emerson Jenkins

If there was one person I knew I could talk to without judgment, it was Miss Sierra.

She also offered some solid advice. She was amazing at her job.

This meeting with her, I had spilled the drama from the past week with Brooks and Amelie. Miss Sierra already knew about my falling out with Amelie so that didn't have to be explained in depth.

"So seeing them together makes you angry? Why?"

"Because I hate them both," I said cooly.

Miss Sierra tilted her head like she didn't buy my answer. Did I stutter?

"You don't."

I grumbled. Why did she have to know me so well?

"Fine..." I conceded. "I don't like her and he's...just there."

Miss Sierra nodded, writing something down. "Maybe you're upset that Amelie is friends with Brooks and you're not? You did tell me he's made multiple attempts to try and befriend you but you've shot him down every time. Also, you said this past time that you felt some type of way when he accepted the fact that you don't want to be his friend."

Ugh, why does she have to be a good listener? And be right?!

That's her job, Emmy.

"He said...we were alike? In a way? I don't know that just...intrigued me. Cause why would he say that? Unless we are? Can you attest?" I asked.

She smiled softly. I don't know how much Brooks has opened up to Miss Sierra but it was worth a shot. "I guess you'll have to find out for yourself. I can attest that he is a nice kid. Who knows, Emerson, maybe you two will be able to bring something good out of each other."

Those words stayed with me the rest of the day.

How could I go to Brooks and try to get to know him without looking like a complete loser? He seemed set on not trying to befriend me anymore. I also don't know if I want to be friends with someone who is friends with Amelie.

Fuck. This.

I pull my phone out after my last class and notice a text from Asher sent almost an hour ago.

Ash: Skip class and come over, doors open.

Even though it was almost an hour ago, I took him up on that and walked toward his dorm. The door is unlocked when I get there so I let myself in.

Only to find him not there. The door to the bathroom opens up. My eyes widen when Brooks walks out of there, holding the towel hanging low on his hips while running a hand through his light brown hair with his free hand.

I can't help but look down and my eyes scan six tanned abs covered in small marks that look like faded cuts. Water trickled down them and toward his v-line.

Jesus.

He doesn't notice me at first until I stumble slightly on a piece of laundry.

"Oh shit," Brooks muttered, covering his torso with his hand.

I turn around quickly. "Sorry, I didn't know you were here. Ash texted me to come over." I don't mention that he texted me an hour ago.

The sound of shuffling comes from behind me. "It's-uh-fine. Wish he would've told me his girlfriend was coming over," he mumbled.

"Not his girlfriend," I said tersely.

"Right," he replied. "Okay, I'm decent now."

I turned back around slowly. Brooks was now fully clothed in black joggers and a basic white tee. "You can wait for him here, I guess. I'm just going to study at my desk. I'll leave you two when he gets back," Brooks added.

He walked over to his desk and sat down. He opened his laptop and studied the screen. The silence was deafening and I couldn't take it anymore. "So...Amelie, huh?" I started, immediately cringing at my words.

I could see Brooks freeze before turning around in his chair. "What about her?" he asked.

"You like her?" I questioned even though I didn't necessarily know if I wanted the answer.

He looked me up and down before nodding. I returned the nod and stood up, walking to the wooden desk. I planted my ass on the side without his stuff. He looked shocked that I was doing all this. Just a couple of days ago, I basically told him to fuck off.

"Yeah, I do," he said verbally. A pang of something unknown hit my chest but I decided to ignore it. "Sorry."

My brows furrowed. "Why sorry?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I know you don't like her."

It took everything in me to not agree with his statement even though it was true. "Everyone likes that princess. It's nothing new," I mumbled.

Something like a blush touched his sharp cheekbones and it made me look at him funny. "I'm sorry. She's just...good. I've never dated good," he told me.

"What does that mean?"

"All the girls I've ever been with have been like..." he paused. "You, no offense."

My brows raised in curiosity and he made a wincing face. "Not that you're not good, I didn't mean it like that, I just meant like a good girl. A girl-next-door kind of girl. The type of girl I know my momma would like me to finally bring home," he chuckled.

"What kind of girl am I then Brooks? If not good," I challenged, grabbing the apple on his desk and taking a big bite.

He started at me for a long time, like he was trying to come up with an answer. "You're like me. A troublemaker who makes more bad decisions than good," he finally said.

I eye him carefully. "How do you know that? You barely know me."

He nodded. "Yeah, but I've heard. You not denying it also tells me that I'm right."

Ignoring him, I set the apple back down. "So your mom? You're close with her?" I asked, genuinely curious. I had yet been able to figure out his relationship status with his parents.

A small smile touched his lips. "Yeah, I am. With all my family."

"Siblings?"

"Four of them. My older sister Nola I told you about once. Y'know the whole black-out drunk, naked in front of her NHL boyfriend thing? Yeah, her. Then my older brother Kayce. Little brother Foster, my guy right there, and little sister Kiersten who you heard me talk to on the phone that one night," he rambled.

He was talkative but not Callum talkative.

Brooks liked to explain things in full. Cal just talked to talk.

"Your dad couldn't get off your mom?" I teased.

He made a disgusted face, shaking his head. I laughed.

His eyes lit up a bit. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

He finally put his pen down and leaned back into his chair, turning his body in the direction of mine. "Your family."

Ugh. I forgot people asked you questions in return.

"Two parents, one older sister," I said vaguely.

"You're close with them?" he returned the question.

I shook my head. "Nope."

Brooks looked confused like it was shocking that not everyone was best friends with their parents. "Why?" he asked.

"They were always working. I was practically raised by a nanny and the house staff," I admitted. It was never a secret that my relationship with my parents was non-existent. There was no point in hiding it especially when I had spent three years straight in London.

"What about your sister?" he asked then.

"She's ten years older than me. I don't have much of a relationship with her either," I admit. A look like pity crossed his features and I hated it. My parents weren't people I necessarily wanted to be close with anyway. They were too snobby and self-centered. Their ego could fill up any room and it was absolutely nauseating.

My father was also a complete narcissist and my poor mother fed into his bullshit. I was surprised they were still married. Sometimes I think they just stayed together so they could look like the picture perfect couple. Hell, their reputations certainly depended on it.

My mother wasn't a saint either though. That lady had enough problems of her own. She thinks she's the most perfect human being and hates admitting when she's wrong even though she constantly is. Mom will do anything to be at the top even if it means stepping and shitting all over anyone in her way. Including me.

Brooks' look of pity had disappeared but his dark blue eyes still bored into me. The words that weren't coming out of his mouth had me on edge. Why the fuck was I talking so much? He didn't have to know this about me and I definitely didn't have to know anything about him.

"I feel like you'd get along with my little sister. You have...similar personalities." A smile slowly stretches on his lips and his comment catches me off guard slightly. "You both stand your ground and are a little too feisty for your own good." He chuckles.

His laugh produces an unknown feeling in my body causing me to look away for a second. "How old is she?" I asked.

"Ten."

"Oh wow. Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"'Cause my little sister is one of the best people I know," he says, leaning back on his chair and grabbing his phone. He scrolled for a second before showing me a picture. It was him and a little girl — I'm assuming his sister. They were at the beach and she hugged his bare torso, both of them smiling at the camera.

She had paler skin, dark brown hair, and the most adorable freckled nose. I couldn't stop the small smile that found its way to my face.

It's an unfamiliar feeling for me. The one for having love for a sibling. I mean, yeah, I loved my sister but it wasn't an intense feeling. Would saying that I loved Mina more than I ever loved her was wrong? It certainly felt wrong. But when it came to familial love, I was in unmarked territory.

Most of my friends here didn't have siblings like me. Besides Callum and Kai, of course. We built a bond with one another and I think we're the closest thing to family for each other. Some of us need each other more than others. Example A being me. Despite not being as close as we used to be, I could still tell you all of their relationships with their parents.

Mina loved her parents but they weren't fully accepting of her and her decisions. Kai didn't get along with his parents at all hence spending summers with Mina in Paris. Lacey and her mom have a rocky relationship. She doesn't have a father. Neither does Rowan but he and his mom have a decent relationship.

Then there's Callum who gets along with his mom and dad. He's a stressor to them because of his behavior but they still love him. Imani's mom is just a selfish bitch who sent her daughter to Havenpoint because she wasn't as 'cool' as she was when she was in high school. Her dad is alright, I guess.

So yes, some of them did have good relationships with their parents but we became like a found family once we learned the ins and outs about each other. We were all different and most of us deep down were hurt. But I guess that was just all teenagers right? None of us were perfect.

A shaky breath escaped my lips before I said, "She's cute." Standing up, I walked over to Ash's bed and took a seat there instead. Brooks followed me with his eyes and when I looked up he was still staring at me. He was leaning back in his chair with his legs spread open a bit and his arms resting on his thighs.

He was observing me.
Why did he always do that?

"What?" I questioned.

His eyes were narrowed slightly and he leaned forward now, pressing his elbows into his lower thighs. "Why are you actually talking to me? I thought you made it clear that you didn't want to be my friend." Oh. That's why.

I try to think of something that won't me look like an idiot. It was just the other day that I told him to fuck off and now all of a sudden my mind is changed? Miss Sierra will do that to you. Taking a deep breath before speaking, I eyed Brooks carefully so that I was able to gauge his reaction to my future words.

"Look, the truth is you're stuck here for another couple of months with me and my friends so why not get to know you? Hating you will just make me more miserable and to be fair, I'm over letting people make me feel that way. So we can be...acquaintances or friends of friends or whatever," I told him.

A smile slowly formed on his lips and he stood up from his chair. I looked up immediately taking in his tall frame. He walked over to me so I stood up too, not wanting to look tiny in his presence. "Friends of friends, huh?" he teased. I swallowed the thick lump in my throat. Even standing now, he was still inches taller than me and my neck had to crane upward to meet his eyes.

My body tingled with something unfamiliar. Goosebumps crept onto the back of my thighs. Brooks was... attractive, yes. He has light brown hair that fell in a swoop motion across his forehead, styled with a middle part. His skin was a bit tan, probably from the California sun. He also had these deep, dark blue eyes that I'd never seen the color of until him.

Despite being fully clothed, I could see the muscles in his body. His arms, legs, and torso. Hell, I had gotten a visual of what it looked like under his white t-shirt. Brooks was fit. Why the fuck did he have to be so pretty?

"Yeah," came my stupid reply. It's like I couldn't say more with his larger-than-life presence towering over me.

He nodded his head and chuckled before stepping even closer to me. My eyes widened for a second when we were only inches apart from one another and he leaned down to whisper in my ear. "I always knew I could get you to like me."

His words sent even more shivers down my skin. Ugh, what the hell was he doing? I pushed his arm, making him tumble back slightly as he released another throaty chuckle. "I'm just kidding, Emerson." Brooks was the only one who still called me my full name.

Hearing people my age call me that sounded so foreign but I saved Emmy for those who know me and those who I consider a friend. These days, adults were the only ones who called me Emerson. Bleh. Even I hated calling myself that.

"It's Emmy," I corrected.

Brooks' blue eyes widened slightly, not expecting my words. I waited for his teasing comment but it never came. He smiled a boyish grin before saying, "I guess we're calling this a truce, Emmy." He held out his hand for me and I looked down at it for a second. His dark brows raised slightly.

"Truce, B," I said, deciding to give him a nickname too. His blue eyes widen slightly but he didn't say anything about it. I shake his hand and he smiles down at me again. His large hand envelops mine and he squeezes it for a second.

"Truce."