“That’s a shame,” Ethan agreed. “Maybe we should practice with her?”
“Yes. Let’s do it.” Barbie settled her hands on her hips. “Love your hair, Em.”
“I grew it myself.” Em tried to be silly, but it landed funny.
“Wow, bloody awful acceptance.” Ethan let out a low whistle.
“Let’s try again?” Barbie asked. Then she started straight at Em as she said, “This time start with thanks before you say anything else.”
“Righto, I believe in you, Em.” Ethan grinned huge.
“The drawing is spectacular, wouldn’t you agree, Ethan Greene?” Barbie asked turning to him.
“I would,” he said. “It’s fab.”
They both stared at Em expectantly. Waiting for her to say something.
“Thanks.” Em said and then she glanced back at the image. “I mean it’s not awful, but I could probably do better with her markers and a scrap of paper that hadn’t snuggled Barbie’s boob.”
“She’s got work to do, for sure,” Ethan said to Barbie.
“Uh-huh.” Barbie nodded.
“Don’t we have reservations?” Emmaline asked.
Ethan handed the image to Barbie’s waiting hand. “Pretty sure they’ll hold our table.”
“Hah,” Emmaline said, and the lightness in her chest was really nice. Comfortable.
“This is what I want.” Barbie held up the paper. “How much?”
Wait, Barbie wanted it?Thisis what she wanted?
A little crack broke through the creativity cocoon wall Emmaline had formed around herself. That tiny fissure felt like taking her bra off after a long day. That good.
“You can have it after I clean it up a little.” Emmaline held up her one-second fingertip. “No arguing with me about that. It’s my artwork, I get to fuss with it.”
“Just a little?” Barbie confirmed. “Not too much?”
“Not too much,” Emmaline agreed, but she’d already had an idea for the wonky cat on the side to make him less wonky.
“Because it’s really good,” Barbie said, and she did the wide-eye thing again.
“Thanks,” Em said. She didn’t add anything else.
Ethan stood there taking the whole thing in with a funny look of pride sketched on his face while he stared at her. That look of pride? It made her feel like she popped right out of the wallpaper.
“Well done, Em. Well done,” he said.
Another good feeling. An ‘I-matter-too’ feeling.
The kind she wished she could bottle and hold on to forever.
But, no, this feeling had to be as fake as the date itself.
“Don’t you bring her back early!” Barbie called as they left. “Keep her out late. Heck, keep her out all night; I’m going to sleep here anyway!”
“Sorry about my best friend,” Em muttered.
