Chapter 89

Emma was breathing in quick, shallow breaths and shaking slightly as she sat down on her couch. She pulled out her cellphone and scrolled to Mike’s number. She thought it “lucky” that she’d gotten the number from him when he’d needed a ride to work one time. If she hadn’t, she’d have no way to call him and wouldn’t see him again until ... Tuesday? Wednesday? She wasn’t even sure when their next shift together was. And what if he DID call the police before then? Oh, God, what had she done?

She stared at the phone, unable to press “CALL.” The impact of what she’d done had never even crossed her mind until Jess had mentioned it. On reflection, Jess was 100% right, of course. What she’d done had been horrible of her. She’d gotten caught up in the excitement of everything and with everyone else being so, so, well “willing”, so “eager”...

One more big breath and she pushed send. It began to ring. And ring. And ring. He would see her number, of course. What if he didn’t pick u-

“What?” came the terse reply from the other end of the receiver.

“Mike?” she asked. Why did she ask that? Of course, it was him.

“Yes, what do you want?” The (fully justified) anger in his voice was apparent.

“Mike, oh God, thank you for picking up. I didn’t know if you-” Emma was stammering, her nervousness getting the better of her.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I did, but I did. Did you want to taunt me some more maybe?”

“No!” Emma shouted into the phone. She took a breath.

“No,” she repeated more softly. “Nothing like that at all. I’m sorry!” Finally, she got an apology out.

“So very, very sorry!” she continued. “I was so wrong to do that to you. And even worse that I let Liz see you and take those photos. God, I am SO sorry. Please, will you let me come over so we can talk about it?”

“I think you’ve done just about enough today,” Mike spat into the phone.

“Please! I need to make it up to you! Just let me come over!” Emma’s panic was evident. Mike could hear it as well but wasn’t convinced.

“What you did was pretty shitty. How do I know this isn’t just another trick?” he asked suspiciously.

How did he know? He didn’t, of course. Why should he trust her? Then a thought occurred to her.

“Hold the line for one minute,” Emma said.

She quickly stripped off all her clothes in the middle of her living room. She picked up her phone and went to her bedroom to where her full-length mirror was. On the way, she picked up a Sharpie from her desk.

Standing in front of her mirror, she awkwardly scrawled “I’m Sorry” in marker across her stomach. Because she had to write it upside down and mirror imaged, it was worse than a four-year-olds scribble, but it would do.

She held the phone up to the mirror and took the photo. She made sure to look appropriately sullen. After reviewing the photo, she realized that the message was backwards in the mirror after all her effort. Oh well. She sent the pic to Mike a moment later.

“K, check your text messages,” she said finally. She didn’t hear any answer from Mike. Had he hung up? She checked the phone screen and the call timer was still counting.

“Mike? Are you-”

“You can come over. You know where I live.” She heard a click and then the “call lost” tone on her phone.