Brooks Scott

As soon as Amelie had texted me that her ballet practice was over, I made my way over to her dorm. Maybe I should have waited a little longer considering her studio was across campus. It had been five minutes and I leaned against the wall a couple of doors down from her dorm. My phone had distracted me long enough until footsteps finally caught my attention.

Only it wasn't a small blonde that was making her way down the hall. It was a taller brunette and even with her head facing the direction of the ground, I knew it was Emerson. I froze in place, hoping she wouldn't look up and notice me. That wasn't until I heard wheezing coming from her and noticed the hand she held over her chest.

My brows furrowed and I quickly began walking towards her. It took her a second to notice me but when she did, her blue eyes widened as she hurried to enter her dorm. She was about to slam the door shut when I blocked it with my hand. I slipped in quickly. Emmy's face was flushed pink and I could see the panic in it, her chest heaving like crazy.

This was a panic attack and I knew it all too well.
My momma had one once when my dad was away on a work trip and I had to calm her down.

It looked like Emmy was angry at me but I didn't care, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to her bed. Pushing her hair behind her shoulders and out of her face, I grabbed one of her hands. "You're okay, Emmy. Just breathe, yeah? Easy, c'mon." I breathed with her, the way Nola had taught me. She also suffered from panic attacks and after I told her about momma's, she taught me how to help her if it ever happened again.

Emmy breathed but they were still shaky and heavy. "Hey, good girl. Just keep doing that," I told her, rubbing my thumb against the back of her hand. She closed her eyes shut but I shook my head. "No, keep those eyes open. Slow, deep breaths, Emmy." Her blue eyes latched onto mine again and she focused on her breathing again. "Good. You're okay."

She tightens her grip on my hand as her breathing starts to slow over time. I let her keep her eyes closed as she calms down, her chest rising and falling easier. "I knew you could do it," I told her. Emmy opened her eyes slowly and looked at me shortly before removing her hand from mine.

It was damp from her sweat but I didn't care, rubbing it away on my dress pants. Emmy rose from the bed, stumbling slowly as she did, and walked over to her bathroom, slamming the door shut. Did she want me to leave now? Because I wasn't going to until I figured out how she got to that point.

Ten minutes passed and she hadn't come out yet.
I couldn't even hear a sound.

I stood up and walked over to the bathroom door, leaning against it to hear better. It was dead silent on the other side and panic built inside of me this time. "Emmy, are you okay?" I asked, panic evident in my tone. There was no way to help her behind a locked door. "Don't be embarrassed, alright? There's nothing wrong with what just happened."

It was still quiet behind the door for about a minute before the door swung open causing me to stumble forward. "Hi," I said awkwardly.

Emmy's eyes were red and a bit swollen. Her cheeks were still flushed and her lips had more of a plumpness to them than usual. Had she been crying in there? It sucked to think about and I knew if that was the case, she didn't want to cry in front of me.

She ignored me and walked over to her bed. Instead of her usual skirt, Emmy was wearing slacks like the boys did. They were a little oversized on her but she somehow pulled off the look. "You can go now, thanks for that," she mumbled, lifting the covers and placing them over her lap.

"No, Emmy. I'm not just going to leave you alone after that. How evil do you think I am?" I asked, walking over to her bed and plopping down at the end. She stared into me for a long time, unblinking. A sniffle escaped her and she tucked a strand of her loose hair behind her ear. "What's going on?" I pushed.

"That wasn't a panic attack."

"Yes, it was."

"No. I just... was choking on my saliva."

"Yeah, okay. What happened? Why did that happen?"

She paused, looking up at me with those sad blue eyes. "Just happens sometimes. Randomly most times," she sort of whispered. "I get random splurges of anxiety and most of the time I can't stop the panic attacks. They overtake me before I can stop them."

She holds her chest again, rubbing slow circles around her heart. Her admission felt like a knife to the heart for some odd reason. Emmy didn't like to be pitied, so I held back from saying anything that made it seem like I pitied her. "So it was just random then?"

Emmy shrugged. "Not this time. This time I had a reason but most times it is."

That piqued my interest. "Well, what happened? Did someone upset you? Was it Ash?" I asked a bunch of questions.

She shook her head slowly. "It's just my own head. I knew this semester wasn't going to be my best, I just didn't know how bad it could actually get," Emmy admitted.

The way she was being open about her feelings made me question if this was really her or her twin sister. She didn't have any siblings so maybe an alien overtook her body. It's always those damn aliens. Momma's warned me about them plenty of times.

"I think you're doing great," I added, shrugging.

"That's because you're not in my head," she muttered, cringing at her words immediately after. Her eyes shut for a couple of seconds before she shook her head. "How did you know? What to do?" she asked, changing the subject.

Deciding that I didn't want to make her more upset, I went along with her change of conversation. "My house is full of anxiety-ridden people. Including myself," I admitted. "Sometimes at least. My family more frequently."

I think anxiety was something that ran in the family. My dad didn't have it but my momma did. Nola has it. Kayce has it but is more quiet about it. Foster can have it sometimes too but he's still too young to know completely. Something close to a panic attack has happened to me a handful of times but luckily I'm able to stop it before it does.

"It's fucking draining. I wish I didn't have it but..." Emmy shook her head and looked out the window instead of at me. She bit down on her lower lip, hiding it inside her mouth. Her dark brown hair was a bit messy, her cheeks were still flushed red, and she looked all kinds of pale. "We all can't choose our stories, right?"

"What does that mean?" I asked.

She looked at me again and stared for a while before replying. "I just mean not all of us can have perfect parents and siblings who love them." It felt like a punch at me. It's not like she said anything bad but I knew how bad it looked considering her life in the family department was nothing like mine.

"Emm-"

"I didn't mean it like that, alright? I'm just saying that some of us struggle with things that make us who we are. Everyone deals with trauma in their own way and we shouldn't judge those who deal with it by being a bitch and weary when a new boy tries coming into their friend group without permission," she ranted.

A smile tugged at my lips. "I get that."

Emmy shook her head. "No you don't, Brooks. And that's okay. You look at me and judge me because of the girl I am. But girls like Amelie, you feel remorse for because she's perfect and sweet. How could a girl like her ever be a bad person? But a girl like me certainly can. 'Cause I have a big mouth and I'm not scared to call you an asshole and tell you to fuck off. Or die."

"That's not true."

"It is."

"No."

"Yes."

"Okay then pick," Emmy said quickly, standing up from her bed. I stood up too, watching her with furrowed brows. She crossed her arms over her chest. The blazer she was wearing earlier was no longer on and the first three buttons of her white button-up were undone.

"Pick what?" I asked curiously.

Emmy swallowed thickly before saying, "Between us. Me and her. If you had to pick one of us, who would it be? You could only pick one of us to keep in your life."

I stared at her dumbfounded for a couple of seconds. She was serious. I knew it was a scenario but choosing felt wrong. When I took more than a couple of seconds to answer, a victorious smile crossed Emmy's lips. It had been like I had proved her point right. "See," she whispered.

I shook my head.

"Look, Brooks, I know and understand guys like you. It makes sense that you would choose a girl like Amelie. You would believe her over me in any situation and..." She shrugs her shoulders. "You two just make sense. Don't think too hard about it. I'm not going to be upset."

Ignoring her words, I inch closer to her and place both hands on her shoulders. "What's going on with you? Are you okay, seriously? Because I have no idea where you're trying to go with this Amelie versus you thing. You're my friend, she's my..." I pause, not even knowing the right word to call her. She's not my girlfriend. But I'd like to think we're more than friends.

Emmy tilted her head slightly and raised her brows, teasing me in a way. Fuck. "She's someone I'm interested in romantically," I concede, sounding stupid as fuck. "Just answer my first two questions, alright?"

Her eyes stay on mine surprisingly but her face is unchanging. No sort of emotion fills her pale face. "My parents don't give a shit about me. I lost friends because of a two-faced liar. Earlier today, I almost had a panic attack because I saw someone who reminded me of an old friend I used to have. I'm a bitch. More than before at least. What else?" She tapped her pointer finger against her chin.

"Don't call yourself a bitch."

"I am one."

"No. You're not.

"Oh c'mon, even you know I am."

"Nope," I disagree. Emmy tries to make herself the villain in not only her story but everyone else's. It wasn't working. She was hurting. Whatever she had been through had led up to this moment right here. Plus, she kind of just told me what I wanted to know. The reason for her panic attack was that she saw someone that reminded her of an old friend.

Jack maybe?
Or would she have said Jack?
Who else could it have been? Maybe someone from New York.

It came back to me then that she's also mentioned not liking New York. Her hometown.

"But think about all those hurtful words I called your little princess. And how I outed her to our friends about how much of a slut she was," she said.

I internally cringed at her words. Fuck, Emmy. She really does her best to prove her point right. But I know her tactic because it's the same one my brother uses. They say things to make them seem horrible even though they don't mean it. For some reason, looking like a terrible person to others is a fucking kink.

I'm starting to see that Emmy is a mixture of a lot of people in my life that I love. In certain aspects, she's me in the girl version but there's also a deeper part of her that I'm starting to see. It doesn't scare me though. Somehow, I'm even more intrigued.

I grab her chin in between my hand. "Stop trying to make yourself look like a bad person to me, Emerson Jenkins. I'm not falling for this crap. I've seen how you are with Mina. I've seen how you are with Cal and everyone tells me nothing but good things about you. This mean girl act isn't working on me, alright?"

She slowly pulls away from my touch and her eyes have that depressing look that I fucking hate again. "Why is moving on so hard? Like if I was just able to move on then I would be okay. Normal even. Not all in my head like this." She was talking about Jack I'm assuming. He had been consuming her thoughts and making her the way she was now.

This guy leaving didn't only fuck up Kai but Emmy too.
They were closer to him than anyone else in the friend group.

"The only way to start moving on from something is to want to move on. It's easy to let the pain overshadow everything but that pain is the main thing holding you back from letting go. Live day by day and one day you're going to wake up and realize you're no longer suffering. The memories will always stay but that's all they'll be. Memories," I told her. "Everything happens for a reason, Emmy. Just remember that."

Her baby blue hues gloss with something I'm certain is tears. Only they don't fall. Somehow she keeps them trapped. "Easier said than done," she said in sort of a whisper, a slight crack in her tone.

Seeing her this vulnerable in front of me was a first. It hurt me to the core seeing the sad look in her eyes and features, the way her shoulders slumped forward like she was shielding herself from the world, and hearing the usual sharpness in her tone was absent. Although I loathed seeing her upset it also brought a bit of excitement because this meant she was no longer pushing me away.

How many other people could say they've seen her this vulnerable?

She turned around and ran a hand through her brown hair, shaking her head. "I just feel trapped in here. This school. My body. My mind," she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Then feel free," I said the first words that came to mind.

She turned her head slightly, allowing me to get a clear vision of her side profile. "How?"

I stepped forward again and got in front of her. "Do things that make you feel free, not trapped. For example, not encouraging the alcohol part, but you seemed so free at the club a couple of days ago. Do you really need alcohol to have fun?" I asked.

Her lips stayed in a straight line and she shrugged. "I don't know. Alcohol is just always around me," she admitted.

A smile pulled on my lips. "Then let's have fun without alcohol. Do something exhilarating that'll give us that feeling of being drunk without actually being drunk. I can name a couple of things. Also, cut it out with the dick." Emmy's brows furrowed at my comment. "Asher. It's obvious you fucking hate him and are just using him for sex. That's not healthy and that's definitely not freeing."

She makes a face of disgust. "Does having fun involve leaving campus?" she asked.

I thought about that for a second. "Probably. You up for it? I can try to think about things we can do here but it probably won't be much."

Her lips pursed into a pout. She wasn't smiling but I could tell her mood was shifting slightly. That rain cloud she carried over her head was slowly disappearing. Some change was happening and that's all that mattered to me. I didn't like seeing her upset. "Sure thing," she finally replied.

Good.

I didn't want to change Emmy. She was perfectly fine the way she was. Helping her get through her funk was what I was trying to do. No one deserved to feel the way she was feeling. Plus, that's just the kind of guy I was. Who knows maybe she could help me figure out some things about myself too. We'd help each other.

The heartbeat in my chest felt more staggered now. Was this a good idea? Kai had just warned me away from this girl. He said to keep my focus on Amelie and just let this little feeling of attraction I had for Emmy go. He was right about what he said. Once you get close, you'll want to get closer. This fucking girl did have that effect on me and I was starting to realize it.

Stay away, Brooks.

"Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about yourself," she added. Had she been reading my mind?

"Oh yeah, like what?"

She smiled softly. "Like you can have a finger up your ass a little too much. It's okay to let loose you know that right? I'm starting to believe that you got sent here 'cause your parents don't want to take care of you and not because you're some kind of bad boy."

I put a hand over my heart. "I'm a good boy, Emmy. I can show you."

Her smile grew a bit more and it caused mine to grow as well.

"Also I do not have a finger up my ass. I'm fun. Everyone knows that," I stated, feeling slightly offended by her words. She giggled and I'm sure it's because she knew what she said would get a reaction out of me. But, Jesus Christ that fucking rare laugh of hers. Not only rare in sound but in sight. She never laughed. Especially not around me. I tried my absolute best to remember the sound and store it in the little — or should I say huge — Emmy Jenkins folder I had created in my head.

"Okay, B. Then show me. I have yet to see a fun side of you," she said. There it was again. That nickname. She had given it to me a while ago but never used it until now.

It was special to me because that's what my parents called me. My siblings too. Dad had given Mom the same nickname in college whereas his friends had nicknamed him 'C'. It was kind of a running thing with us. I liked being called 'B' 'cause that's what a lot of people called my momma. My favorite person in the world.

"Alright, that's our little pact then. You stop getting in that head of yours and let go," I stated, pointing a finger at her. "Me actually being fun. Even though I am fun. Maybe I've had a little something up my ass but that's just because I'm new here. Can you blame me?"

Emmy nodded. "Okay, that's fair. But you've been here for a while now so..." She pressed a finger into my shoulder. "It's time to change that mindset." Her voice came out softer than before and she returned her eyes to mine. I stared into her soul deeply and a strange feeling of wanting to fucking kiss her lips came over me. What the hell was I thinking?

It was just an attraction. That's all it was.
I had to take a deep breath and also remind myself.

Before I could reply, there was a knock at Emmy's door. We both look toward it. "It's probably Mina," she said, walking over to open the door. Shit. Would it look suspicious if I'm here alone with her?

I rub the nape of my neck with my hand as she opens the door slightly, probably hiding me from Mina's sight. "I've been looking for you," a deep voice, that's definitely not Mina, comes through. Large hands grab at both sides of Emmy's waist, pulling her closer away from inside the dorm. The familiarity of that voice churns something ugly inside my stomach.

It's him. Asher.
The guy I just told her to stay away from.

My heart started to pound faster against my chest, waiting for Emmy to tell him to fuck off. At first, Asher was a cool guy. He tried making friends with me and even tried introducing me to some of his friends. Over time, I started to notice the comments he would make about me. He'd say them to my face but also behind my back.

I don't think Asher cared if I liked him or not. But he certainly didn't like me and his comments were starting to piss me the fuck off. Which is why I suggested Emmy stay far away from someone like him. Pretty girls wasting their time on assholes like that will never fail to blow my mind.

"Ash," Emmy whispered.

He removed one hand from her waist to push the door open further, his eyes immediately latching onto mine. Emmy stumbled back as he moved them forward but he held onto the small of her back so that she wouldn't fall. "What is he doing here?" Asher said, voice clearly laced with distaste.

She looked back at me, not making an effort to get away from his touch which made me even angrier. My jaw hardened as my glare stayed on him rather than her. "We were just talking," she replied for the both of us.

Asher didn't move his eyes from me either and I could see the clear scowl on his face. He didn't like that I was alone with her. Well, I didn't like the way he was grabbing her but it wasn't my place to say anything so I kept my mouth shut. "Yeah, so if you'd like to scurry on back to the dorm so we can continue our conversation that'd be cool," I said, offering a fake smile.

Emerson looked at me like she was surprised. Eh, whatever. He was being enough of a prick for me to keep my mouth shut. Asher looked at me in challenge, also holding a surprised look. "I forgot the part where you're her keeper, mate." He moved his hands off her waist and stepped in front of her.

I could see the heavy roll of her eyes but ignored her for now, stepping forward too. "I'm not but I'm sure she'd rather have a conversation with me than fuck you," I retorted, instantly fucking regretting my choice of words.

"What the fuck!" Emmy said from behind him, stepping forward next to him.

That glare came back and I noticed the way his jaw ticked. God, it felt good to make assholes mad. "Jealous, lad? That is the one fucking her and you're not," he barked. I laughed in his face.

"Oh my God, shut the hell up and get out of here, Asher. And you," Emmy turned to me. "Can fuck off too."

"You heard her. Leave," I told him.

"She told you to fuck off too. Don't know if you heard that."

"You first."

A familiar sight caught my eyes and I looked toward Emmy's door that was wide open. There stood a little blonde, staring in horror at the scene in front of her. Shit. "Amelie," I said.

Emmy and Ash's heads both turned at the sound of her name. "Fucking great," Emmy mumbled under her breath but I ignored her and went up to Amelie.

I grabbed her arm and made her look up at me, using my free hand to face her chin in my direction. "Sorry about that, c'mon let's get out of here," I told her.

"Get out."

"What?"

"Leave, Asher. Now."

Emmy crossed her arms over her chest as she scolded Asher like he was a kid. He looked pissed off not just at her but at me when his eyes met mine. Shaking his head, he pushed past her and us, following instructions like a little bitch. Once he was gone, the brunette shifted her attention to me. "He's busy," she said. "We were having a conversation? Before Asher came."

Amelie's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. Fuck. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at the girl next to me. I kind of was the one to kick Asher out for interrupting our conversation and now I'm guessing she's trying to do the same with Amelie. "Uhm," I staggered for the first time in a while. It felt like I had to choose between them. Just like Emmy made me do earlier when she thinks I picked Amelie.

I didn't pick anyone.
I didn't want to pick.

"It's fine," Emmy stated, inching forward to grab the door. "Enjoy yourselves." She offered what I knew was a fake smile before beginning to close the door.

"Wait!" The word came out of my mouth on its own, surprising even me. Amelie looked up at me and I could see the confused expression on her face. "I'm sorry, she's right. We were kind of in the middle of a conversation," I told Amelie, feeling terrible.

"Oh," came her short reply. "That's fine, then. Sorry for interrupting." She was about to leave but I grabbed her arm, standing in front of her now. My back was to Emmy who was still waiting at her door. It was half open but I'm sure I was in view. Amelie not so much since I'm sure my body covered hers completely.

"I'll see you later, okay?" I grabbed both her hands in mine and kissed them. A small smile pulled at her lips and she nodded. That slight blush that appeared on her cheeks was present and I wanted so bad but to just kiss them. Since Emmy was behind us, I held back.

Amelie walked back into her dorm and once the door was closed my attention shifted back to Emmy. Her face held a neutral expression that I couldn't comprehend. "You know what it's fine. I'm okay now, Brooks. You can go hang out with Amelie or whatever." She gripped the door like she was getting ready to shut it completely. I didn't want to stop talking which is why I'm assuming I said what I said and chose to stay and talk to her.

"We can still talk," I offered, hoping she'd take the hint that I wanted to be with her for a while longer.

The smallest smile crept onto her lips. "It's okay, really. I think Mina is coming over in a second."

Her words crushed something in me but I didn't want to look pathetic and ask her if we could please talk so I just nodded. "Okay. Have a good rest of your day, Emmy."

"You too," she breathed, offering one last smile before she closed the door completely.

And that's when something hit me.
A fucking realization that I really didn't want to realize.

I didn't know what it was about Emerson Jenkins but I was fucked. She had me in a grip that I had been forcing myself to get out of. Like an idiot, I was only making it worse for myself by wanting to understand the girl on a deeper level. Not only that but I just offered myself up to be her personal get-out-of-her-funk coach.

Again, I was fucked.