Sweater Weather • Emmeline

Her dad had been the skeptical one. Her mother had encouraged the meeting and seemed extremely happy about it. Even more excited than Emmeline, but Emmeline really couldn’t be excited about anything recently. Especially meeting someone new, even if she had been talking to them for several months now. She should be excited, though. This person was completely famous on the internet—at least, Emmeline thought she was famous. Maybe she was bias because she liked Allison’s videos. But this was still outside of her comfort box.

Way out.

Emmeline’s father had been convinced that this was some scummy forty-year-old who only wanted to take advantage of her, but her mother had vouched. She’d shown her husband the videos—or rather, forced Emmeline too. Truth be told, she would have liked a reason to get out of this whole thing. New people scared her. And what if she couldn’t recognize her? Allison always wore cute little animal ears. . . .

Surely there wouldn’t be more than one of those at the café?

It was California, though, so you never really knew. . . .

Her mother dropped her off outside of the café and wished her the best of luck, told her how proud she was of her little girl going out and making friends and meeting people. It embarrassed Emmeline, but thankfully she was alone in the car and no one could hear her mother fawn over her from outside. Emmeline waited until traffic cleared, then jumped out of the car and scurried to the café.

The little bell rang over the door and it startled Emmeline for a second. She always felt like when that bell went off, everyone turned to look at her, to see who was making such a ruckus on their nice day in the café working on their crosswords and their business plans and book writing. However that was never the case, but she always felt like it. Even if just the employees turned to greet her, that felt like the café to her—a bunch of strange faces staring at her.

After getting over herself and fighting the urge to run right back out the door, Emmeline took a deep breath, clutched her purse close to her chest, and scanned the tables to look for who she was meeting. A pair of rabbit-ears stood out among the crowd and she zeroed in on that figure.

Short blonde hair, animal ears—it could only be her, right? She couldn’t read the face even if it wasn’t smashed against the table top—oh no. Maybe she was ill. Emmeline fretted for a moment, shifting her weight from foot to foot, wondering if she had made this poor girl come out when she was sick just to come meet her. No no, Allison surely had better things to do—this was selfish of her! Totally and utterly selfish! This internet idol probably thought she was trash!

Swallowing hard, Emmeline fought back that welling panic and strode to where the girl sat, determined to apologize and tell her she didn’t have to sit here with her if she didn’t need to.

Her approach was noticed and Allison sat up. That froze Emmeline in her spot and she held her breath without realizing it, then let it out slowly to nod her affirmation. “Y-yes. Y-You’re Allison, right? I—I hope I’m not late. . . My—my mom drives kind of slow and—I know you’re probably busy. . . ,” she greeted the girl, feeling as nervous as she probably looked. Was she wearing the right clothes for a new friend meeting? Her mom had helped pick out her skirt and blouse, and she’d done her hair up—but it wasn’t a date or anything so why should it matter. . . .

Oh she probably looked like she was trying too hard!

Cursing herself inwardly, Emmeline forced a smile and continued to speak softly. “I—I hope I haven’t, like, made you go out of your way or, um, anything.” She forced herself to stop that awful stammering and tried to make complete sentences. “Are—are you feeling well? I, uh, saw you with your, uh, head down and. . . . Um. Yeah. . . .”

If she could have, Emmeline would have kicked herself.

Emmeline felt like a deer trapped in headlights. Her entire body went completely rigid when the girl got up out of her seat to wrap her arms around her. She wasn’t a stranger to hugs by any means, but she was used to her mother hugging her—occasionally her father. Not complete strangers. Emmeline wasn’t sure what to do; hug back? Just stand there like a lemon? Eventually she opted to just kind of awkwardly lifting her arms up in a half-hug. . . thing.

Allison talked a mile a minute and Emmeline found herself unable to get more than a few syllables in edge-wise, but she didn’t mind. She figured that so long as someone else was talking, she didn’t need to be. Let Allison do all the talking—it didn’t bother her.

She managed a smile. So she wasn’t late—Allison had been early. But—wasn’t that the line everyone in an anime used? That they were just early? Maybe she was actually late and Allison was trying to spare her feelings. Oh she wished she had glanced at the clock before she got out of the car—she hadn’t the chance to check her phone yet, and her mom just drove so slow sometimes. Not like her dad—her dad was a speed demon! Emmeline managed to find the time to say “I’m glad,” before Allison was off again.

A red hue started to speckle Emmeline’s cheeks and for a brief moment, she completely missed a few rants from the Allison—she’d complimented her! A famous person complimented her! She didn’t even mind that this girl didn’t seem to have any real taste for personal space. The one thing Emmeline worried the most about was that people would think she was ugly, or fake, or trying too hard—but she seemed to have pulled it off!

Her mood lifted considerably—Allison liked her! She really did like her!—she shook her head a little bit. “No—I don’t mind,” she murmured. Allison didn’t need to apologize for anything, least of all for talking. She was taken a little off guard when Allison mentioned something about not being ugly.

So she really did think she was pretty! Or at least not ugly!

It was a start! Emmeline would take it!

It seemed that Allison had been expecting around the same type of person that her dad had been. Some fat old pervert. Those weren’t quite his own words but it was probably close enough. Emmeline actually let out a little giggle. It was something she wasn’t to—not around other people. She usually giggled while watching a funny video alone in her room, not when other people were around. “My dad thought that’s who I was going to meet.”

Well this was going better than expected. Allison was doing most of the talking, she seemed to really like Emmeline, and Emmeline was actually pretty happy she had decided to go along with this little meeting. Maybe she was going to have a real friend.

“I don’t usually meet people either,” she assured Allison with a shy twist of her torso. She left a word hanging in her mind—ever. She didn’t usually meet people. . . ever. But she just let it sit there unsaid, a little tidbit for her mind. She would probably replay this conversation several times in her head. But it would be a good conversation—not one of those wistful conversation where she wished she was braver.

When offered, Emmeline sat down and set her purse down under her seat—the strap wasn’t long enough to drape over the chair. “Are you sure?” she asked when told to offer something. “I brought some money with me so you really don’t have to.” The stuttering! It was gone! She could complete a sentence without having to try a couple times! And she could feel a smile on her face—a real smile, not a fake, forced one!

She tried her hardest to commit Allison’s face to memory, even if she knew she couldn’t.

Another giggle slipped out and Emmeline moved her hand slightly to cover her mouth. She was having fun, and with her new best friend—yes, best friend. Emmeline already had it in her head that she and Allison were going to be the best of friends together, maybe even forever. That was her way—find that one person who seemed to like her and cling to them as hard as she could, and never let them go. Well—not never. If Allison got irate enough or told her go away, Emmeline would, with her tail tucked neatly between her legs, and she probably wouldn’t come out of her room for months.

But that wouldn’t happen. She had a good feeling about Allison. A great feeling, really.

“I was surprised he didn’t, uh, come with me to drop me off,” she replied, tipping over a salt shaker onto one edge with her finger and making it wobble back and forth. “But he has to work a lot. Mom and I, uh, managed to, mm. . . convince him that you were—legit. With your videos.”

Well—so she couldn’t quite make it through larger bouts of speech without having to stop and think every now and again. It had been a while since she had had a real conversation with someone. The last time was when she had gotten lost at the mall and those two nice people had helped her find her mom, but she had been so disgruntled by the whole situation that she hadn’t done a lot of talking let alone held a real, meaningful conversation with Hayden and Gabi.

Bleh. She just wanted to push that whole day out of her head.

Emmeline nodded and picked up the little laminated menu to look through it real quick. “That sounds fair,” she agreed with a smile. Perfectly fair—she was sure her mom wouldn’t mind. She didn’t have a job or anything, but her parents gave her an allowance so long as she helped out around the house—after all that was where she spent most of her time. The least she could do was chores.

Finally, a waiter was flagged over by some pro choreography from Allison. She was the first person to order, so Emmeline took the time to make out her order. Though not hungry, she was feeling peckish, so when it was her turn, she set down the menu and smiled at the waiter. Before she even had her mouth open, Allison interrupted and she promptly closed her mouth, smiling sheepishly. Allison just added a size to her orders, and then Emmeline looked back up at the waiter. The poor girl still couldn’t really make eye contact with anyone, though she found it a little easier to at least look at Allison’s face instead of her collarbones, so her gaze fell to something behind the waiter.

“Um, I would like—uh, a blueberry muffin and, um, an iced coffee, um. . . mocha, please.” She paused for a second, remembering the sundae. What kind of flavor. Emmeline swiftly picked up her little menu and buried her nose in it for a second before coming back up. “The uh—oh! Butter pecan. Please. If that’s okay.”

Emmeline looked to Allison now, afraid she had overstepped her boundaries.

The waiter carried on and Emmeline pushed her menu over to the side, just in case they wanted to order something else. She swallowed hard and turned to Allison with a question that was just burning her tongue. She shifted in her chair nervously, playing with her napkin and not looking at Allison. “Do—uh, I’m sorry—do you make any. . . uh.” Crap this was such an awkward question. She opted to just spit it out as quickly as possible. “I mean I know a lot of people do but—do you make any money from your channel?”

Oh great! Her awkwardness was making Allison think something was wrong! Oh why couldn’t she just be a normal person? Emmeline quickly shook her head, eyes wide. “No-no you’re not scary! I just—it can be a sensitive topic and—some people don’t like—I just didn’t want to pry,” she assured Allison, staring down at the table, her shoulders hunched up like a puppy that had been reprimanded for chewing on something it wasn’t supposed to.

She looked up slightly from the tops of her eyes and swallowed. “Sorry—I didn’t mean any offense,” she murmured, fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. Everything had been going so well. Now she’d ruined it. Absolutely ruined it. Emmeline wanted to crawl up into a hole somewhere and die, somewhere no one would be able to find her.

Like it had worked out so well the first time she’d tried that.

Allison seemed to take the question okay, but now Emmeline felt as if she had completely destroyed the little get-together. Her social skills were disgusting and now she’d lost her best friend not even five minutes after having one. She resisted the urge to make out with the table as Allison had, knowing that would just make her look even worse. Why hadn’t she asked a different question? A less prying question? But she tried to keep up the conversation—maybe she could salvage it.

But probably not. Who was she kidding. She was a worthless little girl with no social skills—or any skills to really speak of, and it was foolish of her to think anyone could be her friend. “I was just—wondering cuz. . . I know some of those—uh—youtubers. . .um. . . make a lot of money cuz they—uh, have a lot of viewers and. . . and stuff.”

Her cheeks lit up when Allison asked if she wanted to be in an episode. Emmeline looked up briefly out of surprise but quickly averted her gaze. She wasn’t worthy enough to make eye contact with anyone. Submissive to the end. She fumbled for words for a few seconds, unsure of how to respond.

Saved by the food.

Emmeline looked up long enough to thank the waiter and leaned back so he could place their food. She picked at the little muffin. Allison didn’t seem upset anymore, but Emmeline was still convinced she’d completely botched this one. And she still hadn’t answered the question. “No—I—I couldn’t be in an episode. I’m not—I’m not funny or witty—and I’m—terribly camera shy and—all that attention I—I wouldn’t be any good at it.”

Her inner brain told her it might be fun, but she just wouldn’t be able to handle that pressure.

Murdered kittens? Emmeline’s eyes widened and she shook her head. She had to calm down! She had to calm down right now! She was making Allison feel terrible! Like she had murdered kittens, which was one of the worst crimes ever! Seriously should be punishable by death. She took a few deep breaths while Allison was covering her face, trying to act like a normal person by once. If only she’d succeeded that dark night—she wouldn’t be here making a fool out of herself.

When Allison moved her fingers a smidgen, Emmeline smiled ruefully and shrugged her shoulders up high. “Sorry. I’m nervous around people,” she admitted, still unable to make any sort of eye contact. Any initiation from Allison always ended with Emmeline immediately breaking contact.

Emmeline cocked her head to the side and leaned in. A secret? Allison had a secret? She did the cliché thing and glanced around real quick to make sure that no one was watching or listening, and leaned in a little closer so she could protect Allison’s secret. Why Allison would want to tell her a secret Emmeline had no idea, but maybe it was something not too important. Emmeline didn’t think she could handle a big secret of any magnitude.

But what Allison said just confused her for several seconds. Focus on Allison? That was more of a direction she was giving, not a secret. Brows furrowed, Emmeline leaned back in her seat just a tad, and was about to ask what she meant, but Allison pulled out her phone and realization crept down Emmeline’s spine.

“Why—you wouldn’t get paid for me—I’m—” Her voice caught when Allison started speaking to the phone, her general greeting to her viewers.

She swallowed hard. This was happening.

Cheeks rosy red, Emmeline’s eyes drifted to that soul-sucking lens in the back of Allison’s phone. Maybe if she didn’t look at it directly she would keep her soul. She wouldn’t watch this episode. No no, no never. She never looked good on camera—though she was suddenly glad that she had spent all that time trying to make herself look presentable out in public. There was only so much she could do with her short hair, but at least the rest of her looked great. She managed a smile, though Emmeline was pretty sure she just looked like she was snarling.

“H-hello,” she squeaked.

Emmeline couldn’t stop looking at the camera.

She was vaguely aware that Allison had asked her a question and she glanced down at her food. For some reason she couldn’t remember what it was called—oh wait. “Um—I h-have a. . . um. . . a b-b-blueberry muffin and—and a um, iced coffe. . . and—um. . . .” What kind of flavor was it?! “Mocha. . . flavored.”

The words had just enough time to get out of her mouth before Allison put her phone down. She stared for a little bit, her heart beating frantically in her chest. Allison that was the end of their episode and Emmeline swallowed hard, then took a few giant swigs of her coffee, only to cough some of it back up when it went down the wrong tube. “Ho—how was it? Did—oh. . . ,” she murmured, immediately shoved a mouthful of muffin in her mouth. That was something she didn’t want to do again.

Emmeline cocked her head to the side slightly and listened carefully to Allison. She seemed nervous about something, but what did Allison have to be nervous about? Emmeline was the nervous one—there should only be one nervous person in each friendship! Otherwise nothing would ever get done!

However, the big problem seemed to be that Allison hadn’t actually been recording.

She thought about that for a second, and then genuinely giggled. That was all? But that was a good thing. Emmeline didn’t think she was ready to be on the internet quite yet. “I’m relieved,” she said after a short bout of the giggles. “I was um, caught off-guard and—um, your viewers probably don’t, um, want to hear about coffee flavors from, uh, some weird chick.”

Sure she’d had to try extra super hard to even get those few words out, but that just meant she’d be ready next time, right? “It was—uh, good practice for. . . a real episode?” she offered with a smile. It was getting easier and easier to be with Allison. Heck, she was even eating in front of her. Emmeline sometimes didn’t even like eating in front of her own family. Though they had their little family dinners all the time, but if they ever went to a restaurant she hardly ever ate anything.

That was probably why she was a bag of bones.

It seemed every time she went to see her therapist, she was told to eat more. . . .

“Um,” Emmeline mused, trying to think of a good answer to Allison’s question. There was really only one answer, but Emmeline knew it would make her sound totally lame. Besides, could one’s butt really fall asleep? It was a muscle but. . . . “I—I don’t really get out. . . very often so um. . . I’m not sure what—there is to do around here.” Well, the truth was better than trying to make something up she supposed.

Allison seemed like a fun girl. She’d probably know something fun for them to do together on their first meeting.

Murdered? Emmeline looked a little surprised and tried to think about that for a second. She wasn’t sure he’d heard anything like that before, but she didn’t really pay attention to current events. Emmeline wasn’t a news person unless something happened to go viral on Tumblr or Youtube. But those were usually only the funny stories or the really, really bad ones that garnered a lot of attention.

Anything local usually went by unnoticed for her.

“Really?” she asked, picking at her muffin a little more. She only took tiny little bites, afraid anything bigger would make her look ridiculous. It was the same with the coffee—only a few, refined sips every now and again. “I never heard that. Has the investigation really been going for a whole month? Isn’t that like, a huge tourist attraction? Why wouldn’t they open it?”

And a ghost? There were rumors of ghosts? Well that actually wasn’t too surprising. Everyone always wanted something to be haunted after there was a tragedy. That always made things so exciting. “I bet rumors of a, um, ghost get people up there anyway. People love ghosts for some reason.”

Emmeline? Not so much.

Allison asked a really confusing question, but Emmeline knew the answer almost immediately. She didn’t know much about China or Korea, but she watched a lot of Japanese animation in her free time—mostly romance or school drama, but there was the occasional action if it had even a smidge of steamy romance—so that was really the only answer. But she didn’t know what it had to do with going somewhere fun.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind vising Japan. Though I don’t speak any of it so I’d want to learn at least a few sentences besides what I’ve picked up from watching, um, subs,” she murmured more to herself than to anyone else.

Emmeline giggled. Allison was just too fun. She was nothing like the other people she used to hang out before her accident. They were always too worried about how they looked in public. They were always putting on too much make-up, wearing flashy clothes that barely passed the school dress code, and they would have sneered at Allison. Allison was the type of person they would have looked down their noses at.

But Emmeline liked it. Back then, just to fit in, she would have looked down her nose, too, but now she knew—those were no true friends. They’d only liked her because they could get her to do stuff for them.

Allison, Allison seemed like the person that was a real friend.

“You can call me, uh, Emmie. My family and uh—they call me Emmie.” She was going to say “her friends” but she didn’t have any friends anymore. Except, well, Hayden and Gabbie, but Gabbie called her MnM so she didn’t think it really counted.

She nodded, quick to agree. “They um—aren’t so bad if you watch them, first. But if—if you ever watch the sub with, uh, original voice overs then the, dub is—totally ruined. I don’t, um, understand why English voice actors that are—uh, hired for these animes don’t. . . try as hard as the Japanese ones,” she pointed out, picking at a couple more crumbs of her muffin before taking another sip.

Before Allison had mentioned it, Emmeline had completely forgotten about the Sundae they’re ordered. Emmeline picked up a spoon and started to eat some of it, figuring that it would be a waste to just let it melt there. She had to eat it quick, so her regular small nibbles wasn’t going to be good enough.

But she was extremely self-conscious as she dove into it, trying to keep it from melting anymore.

“That would be fun,” Emmeline murmured thoughtfully, pulling the spoon out of her mouth and replacing it with a bite of muffin. The ice cream was a little too cold and she’d eaten it a little too fast, so she wanted to supplement it for the warm muffin. “I thought it would be neat to learn. Um, everything sounds, mm, more dramatic and, um, meaningful in Japanese.”

Emmeline shook her head. “No, I’m not busy. We could probably go. My, uh, ride told me to just, call when I wanted to come home. So—just, whenever I suppose. Just—not too late, they said,” she explained. Afterwards, she took a couple more embarrassing bites of ice cream. She grimaced slightly at the mention of her dad. Her next words were followed by a nervous chuckle. “He—uh, would probably like, to uh, meet you too.”