Chapter 1: Something Fine

If I could possibly evaporate someone with just a look, I would evaporate this person.

"Sir, could you possibly move yourself from the pathway? And your other hundred belongings?"

He gave me a look, didn't move a thing, and looked away again.

"Fine." I walked over one pricey looking luggage and flung my bag over carelessly, possibly knocking into his buttocks in the process.

"Hey!"

"Learn some manners!" I called out. And walked my irritated way out of gate B.

Determined to make it home I walked quickly forward and to the glass gate, picking up the phone to make a call.

"Dad," I started. "I hate airports. I hate flying. Why are people so stupid, huh? What's with them?

Okay, I'm going to drive back. My car's at the lot, hopefully in one piece."

"Emilia?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't kill yourself, okay? Drive safely. I mean it."

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes. "I know. I'll dump the anxiety soon as I sit in something that I own.

Hi, by the way."

With that our conversation was over. Once at the parking lot I gave my car a quick sweep, releasing a breath when I saw it perfectly untouched.

I was right. Sitting down in here did wonders, and so I turned on the AC to full blast so the car could cool.

Once I paid the overnight parking fees I was gone, singing as I drove down the highway and thought of tomorrow. I would probably use it to see Racheal and take a girl's day off, unless I decided to be productive and write the five page research paper due at the end of the week.

But I wanted to relax, clear my head. I had had one of those weeks where my mind was against me, bothering me. Luckily being home was respite enough. With my bag in hand and the keys to the house dangling on a finger, I took the porch steps two at a time and opened the front door.

Instantly the smell of potatoes and steak hit me, and I placed the luggage onto the floor without a care. The kitchen was my guide, and both my parents stood there back to back, each tending to a different cooking task that I was completely stupefied by.

"Ah, the smell of a welcoming present. How loving," I spoke.

My mother jumped, dropping her wooden spoon over the stove, while my father laughed under his breath.

He left the bowl of mashed potatoes and came to me for a hug. My mom followed suit, playfully pulling at my hair in a manner that would have fooled anyone.

"Ouch, woman."

"Serves you right. Scaring me like that." She said with a face.

"How welcoming." I laughed.

"You were gone for just two days, Emilia." And with that she started to laugh herself.

"You know I'm not a flier. Hate the proximity to death and people all at once."

That got me some chuckles from my parents, and a couple of curious questions.

"How was the flight? And your aunt up in Jacksonville?"

We started to talk up until dinner was served, my fifteen year old brother Micheal joining us from upstairs as soon as his canine nose detected food.

"So Micheal, no new girlfriend?"

He rolled his eyes and bit back a grin. "You were

gone-"

I interrupted him. "Two days. I know. I'm just bored and tired. So I'm talking garbage. And I know you're incapable of getting a girl anyway, especially that quickly.

I stood up with my plates and walked toward the sink.

"Ha-ha. Says the one who dumps all her boyfriends whenever things are getting serious."

That one jabbed at me a little, but I smiled and shrugged it off.

"Learn from your big sis." I winked, saying good night and walking upstairs toward the bathroom for a quick shower.

Looking at my face in the mirror, I tugged at my cheeks with the tips of my fingers. The skin was pink. My hair died a dirty ash blonde. Something about my eyes made them even blacker than they already were. And I was so tired.

Was it possible to lose unnecessary weight in two days?

Either that, or my already small five-foot-two frame had shrunken.

Maybe the hot water, my pillows, and a cup of tea would bring me back to normal. Maybe all I needed was to lie down without moving.

Without dreaming. And then I would be fine.

* **

The morning was slow. Lazy. I slept until ten and awoke only because I had plans for lunch. Dressing took me only ten minutes, since I donned nothing fancier than a pair of ripped gray jeans, an off-shoulder tee, and black Converse. It was the makeup that took time. I felt like sporting a full face today, with skin perfector, blush, mascara, and lipstick. And a couple other things with names too long to mention.

I tossed my hair up into a bun of ashy disaster and was out of the house in minutes.

We were to meet up for coffee and macarons at Laudurée's, a cute Parisian bakery in sunny Lincoln Road.

It was less than a half hour drive in the morning, when traffic was smooth, and so I made it there with ease. Racheal had already parked her car behind the shop, and so I walked inside and took off my sunglasses.

I couldn't even squint to adjust to the brightness before Racheal's voice chimed from somewhere in the shop. "Emilia! Over here."

I didn't have to follow her with my eyes to know that she was waving her arms in the air like a maniac, even though the shop was small and I'd spot her without difficulty.

1 looked to my left and laughed. "You're so bright and chirpy in the mornings. I can never understand it "

She stood up and came to me for a breath taking hug, and we crossed to the counter to order cappuccinos and a box of assorted macarons.

"How was Jacksonville?" She asked, waving her brows. "Any hot Jacksonians?"

"Oh no," I said instantly. "I like my men hot and spicy, from Miami "

"Yeah, me too," she said, double meaning laced into her words.