"Sure," she said. It was the furthest thing from the truth. Juan was so excited about his demo tape being almost done; it was all he could talk about. Naturally, he did not ask much about Emily, and she had so much to tell him: how much Michael had been growing, how she liked singing at Mass, the late summer blooms in Lila's garden.
"Oh, tomorrow is the day we start recording the last song for my demo tape." He looked at Emily, and his eyes were brimming with hope. She smiled at him, wishing she could share his enthusiasm. She wondered when his dream had become hers, and when she had lost it again. She looked at the face she had adored. She loved the shape of his eyes, the curve of his lips. So why wasn't she attracted to him? Maybe I just need a jump-start, she thought.
"And then we'll send it out to be mastered," Juan continued, when he was interrupted by a sudden kiss from Emily. He put his arms around her as the kiss deepened. When he could no longer hold his breath, he reluctantly pulled away.
Emily backed off and looked at him again. Damn, she silently cursed. Nothing.
"Well," she said, "I better go inside before Grandfather sends out a search party."
"I love you, Emily," Juan said with a sincerity that made Emily's heart sick because she could not match it.
"Good night, Juan." She watched him walk away, then shut the door. She walked up the stairs and down the hall to her parents' room, where she knew they were waiting up for her.
"Hello, sweetheart," Alan said as Emily entered the room. He and Monica were reading in bed.
"How was your evening?" Monica asked.
"Fine, but you don't have to wait up for me, you know," Emily responded.
"We're your parents, of course we're going to worry about you," Monica said.
Emily sighed. "I'm really tired, so I'm going to bed." She moved to each side of the large king size bed to give her parents a kiss goodnight.
"Sleep well, dear," Alan called as she was leaving.
"We love you, Emily," Monica said, smiling at her daughter.
"I love you guys, too. Good night." She slipped out of their room into the hallway. She tiptoed down the hall, careful not to disturb anyone. When she reached her room, she breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she was in the one place where she didn't have to mask herself. She was just plain old Emily there, with no attachments or obligations. She didn't have to fake her emotions to protect anyone.
Emily changed into her pajamas, then flopped on her bed. She pulled out her journal from the dresser drawer. It was the fourth one she had written in since Robin had given her the original notebook. Her journal was the place where Emily could sort out her thoughts, and it was also a good place to see how far she had come.
She was about to pull out her pen to write when a thought hit her. She pulled out one of the previous journals. She quickly found the passage she was looking for. It was from late 1999. She began to read:
I went out on another date with Juan. I don't think words can describe the way I feel. Juan is the first person who finally sees me for me. It's not like with Nikolas- he just sees me like a little sister. But when Juan looks at me, it's like he's taking all of me in. I'm not some little girl. I'm a beautiful, smart, desirable woman. I can scarcely believe that he almost died a few months ago. I am so grateful that he didn't.
I can't wait until the next time I see him. This is an incredible new kind of happiness, one I've never felt before and one I'm eager to experience to its fullest.
She closed the journal and lay back on her pillows. How did things change so much? One minute she was madly in love with Juan, the next, indifferent. The one thing she wanted to avoid was hurting his feelings. She needed to get her head straight. She thought she was in love with Juan, but she felt attracted to Sly.
Emily had wanted to kiss Sly that day. She wanted to help him, take the pain she saw in his eyes away. When she touched him, there was a sense of connection she could not describe. It took all of her willpower to stay away from him when they were together. So she attempted to convince herself how much she was in love with Juan, kissing him, holding his hand, staring at him. She would make a point to do it when she was around Sly to somehow make herself not want him. She just hated the look in Sly's eyes when she did. The last thing she wanted was to give him more problems.
Emily sighed then put her head under her pillow. "With all the drama in my life, you'd think I was on a soap opera!"
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"That's your problem, Sly, you get all weepy when you're drunk," Lucky slurred.
"Hey, maybe I'm just more in touch with my feelings, Spencer," Sly retorted back angrily.
"Are you going to let her get to you? Maybe she's not interested."
"You haven't seen her, Lucky. You don't see the look Emily gets in her eyes- I know she's interested. She's almost ready, I know it." His eyes teared up. "Or maybe I'm reading this all wrong. Maybe I'm destined to walk this world alone." As was his custom, Sly turned to a song for comfort. He started to sing:
There's a red brick in a white wall
Somebody's brush forgot to paint
So it sits there all alone
Like a hopeful sinner
Who finally goes to church
She don't sit among the Christians
'Cause she questions her own worth
Oh she's lonely
Lucky rolled his eyes; he finished off the last of the whiskey. Sly walked around the bar, still singing.
Lonely like the way you left me
Nothing I know is gonna get me
Through losing you
The worst of love's analogies
Are tangled up inside of me
But the only one that brings
Me to my knees
Is lonely
He wiped away a tear as he sang, even if the words were a little slurred.
There's a man in his own prison
With a crime nobody knows
He has sentenced himself to life
With no pardon or parole
Oh he's lonely
Sly walked into a table absentmindedly. He banged his knee and knew that it would leave a bruise. God, that was all that was left of him, bruises and scars. He continued on.
Lonely like the way you left me
Nothing I know is gonna get me
Through losing you
The worst of love's analogies
Are tangled up inside of me
But the only one that brings
Me to my knees
Is lonely
He almost whispered the last lines:
I'm a red brick in a white wall
Somebody's brush forgot to paint
Lonely
He cried a little; he always let music get the best of him. "So what did you think of that, Lucky?"
There was no answer so Sly looked frantically until he found Lucky passed out near one of the couches near the fireplace. "I'm so bad, I put you to sleep, huh?" He picked up Lucky to set him on the couch, but he pulled up the back of Lucky's shirt for a second. No scars thank God. He propped him up on the couch, and sat beside him, soon nodding off himself.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The back door to Luke's opened slowly. A hand reached up to turn off the alarm, but it was already off. The figure slipped silently into the office when a noise from the front alerted him that someone was there.
He walked silently to the front of the club. He stayed close to the wall. He held his breath as he rounded the corner. What he saw were two young men, apparently drunk, on the couch. He took a closer look and realized who they were. It was his son, and the young man he had once regarded as the same.
Luke Spencer took a quick look around the place, but found the rest of it empty. He then cautiously walked over to Lucky and Sly. "Well, if it isn't my favorite comedy duo, Abbott and Costello."
Sly opened his eyes and looked up at the person who was speaking. His vision was blurred, but he knew who it was. He nudged his cousin.
"Hey, look, Lucky. Dad's here."
Song Credit: "Lonely" by Roxie Dean & Robin Lee Bruce Sung by Tracy Lawrence on his album, "Lessons Learned"