Page 16 of Right Where You Left Me

Which one says, ‘I’m cool enough to be hanging out with these artistic, tattooed, badasses,’ but also will keep me warm enough in the cool fall night air? I let out a breath slowly and pick up my phone. I hit video call and after three rings Liam’s face pops onto my screen.

“Well hello, stranger.” He says with a smile. “What’s up?”

“I need you to help me pick out an outfit for tonight.”

“Alright. What’s tonight?”

“I’m going to an art walk with Sage and her tattoo shop friends and I have to be cool , Liam. Okay? I have to look cool, and they can’t know that I’m a little lame-o with no idea what to wear to something like this!”

“Emma.” He says chuckling at me. Which is so rude honestly, doesn’t he understand that I am in the middle of a crisis?! “You are cool.”

“You don’t understand, Liam. These people are cool . You and me, we are pastry chefs that enjoy a nice cheese board and a quiet night in. These guys are on a whole other level! One of Sage’s friends has tattoos on his neck. His neck , Liam. I have to fit in. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“Lord… okay. Let me see what your options are. Even if I think you’re being insane.” He mutters.

“Just pick one.” I say sharply. “You’ve seen me in all of these, and you think I’m hot so, clearly you are the best person to pick my outfit.”

“Sure, sure. Your logic is soooo sound, Emma.” He says, and I can practically feel the sarcasm. “I say the tank and jeans. That color always looks good on you and obviously you can’t beat that jacket.”

“Thank youuuuu.” I crow. “You are a lifesaver.”

“Yeah, yeah. Text me later and tell me how your date goes.”

“Not a date.” I say quickly. “Just a friend hangout. There’s going to be four of us there.”

“Sure.” He says with a smirk. “Well let me know how your ‘friendly night out’ goes then.”

“I’m hanging up on you now.”

“Byeeeeeeeee”

I toss my phone down on my bed and look over the outfits one more time. He’s right. Tank and jeans it is. I run a wide tooth comb through my hair and throw it up in a claw clip before swiping on some mascara and lip gloss and after a look in my full length mirror, I think I’m ready.

I head downstairs, slipping my arms through my jacket as I go, and find my mom still watching her home improvement show on the couch.

“You look nice.” She says giving me a once over. “Will you be out late?”

“I’m not sure exactly what to expect when I get there, but don’t wait up. I’ll make sure I lock everything up when I get home.”

She nods and turns back to the TV. “Have fun, hun. Tell Sage I say hi.”

“I will.” I murmur and head out to my car.

I plug the address Sage texted me into my GPS.

It’s an easy drive, just two exits past our town on the highway.

“Fuck.” I mutter when I arrive. Parking is a nightmare, every single street parking spot seemingly full.

I drive around for fifteen minutes before I find a spot on the street that runs parallel to the main street that the art walk is set up along.

The air outside is cool, but not unpleasant, and as I get closer I can see twinkle lights above the street.

Artists and vendors line the sidewalk and the sound of mingled conversation is ringing out around me.

I find the pop up bar where Sage said they’d be waiting for me, and as I get closer I spot River in the crowd first. He towers over everyone, and with his bulk he’s very hard to miss. He glances in my direction and when our eyes meet and his face splits into a grin as he waves me over.

“Emma! You made it!” He says, nudging Sage with his elbow. She practically growls at him and it just makes his smile wider.

“I did! What’re we drinking tonight?” I ask, eyeing the bright cocktail in his hand.

“They have a signature drink tonight, some pink concoction with vodka and I think grapefruit juice, you want one?” He asks, linking our arms together. I laugh, watching as people move wide eyed out of his way as we walk toward the bar.

“Sure!” I reach for my wallet, but he waves me off. “On me tonight, why don’t you and the girls start walking and I’ll catch up once I have your drink.”

“Oh, sure. Thanks, River!”

He winks in response and waves me off and toward where Peyton and Sage are standing.

I swallow my nerves and move up beside Sage. “River said to start walking and he’d catch up.”

“Great.” Sage says and gives me a tiny smile.

“This way then.” She gestures down the left side of the street.

“We’ll do the loop.” She says when she sees the wonder I’m sure is all over my face.

I’ve never been to something quite like this.

I’ve been to craft fairs plenty, but this is something much bigger.

My mom would say the energy here is eccentric and harmonious all at once.

Each side of the street is lined with so many booths I don’t know how we’ll possibly be able to see them all.

“So, anyone here in particular you wanted to see?” I ask Sage and Peyton as we wander down the row.

Each artist has their own unique flair to their tables and I’m swept up in awe over how much talent is surrounding us.

This is incredible. I really want to stop at every single table, but I don’t know if Sage and Peyton would humor me in that.

They seem like this is something they do a lot and are just casually walking by, doing cursory looks over everything as we wander.

“Nah, not really. I do think there’s someone here that River wanted to check out though.” Sage says lightly. “This was his idea and he was very pushy about us coming to this particular event.”

“Check out, or check out .” Peyton says with a smirk.

“Knowing Riv, the latter.” Sage says with a smirk of her own.

“Is he a flirt?” I ask.

Sage shrugs. “He can be, but I know there’s a certain artist here that he hasn’t shut up about. Can’t be a coincidence.” She says and laughs as River bounds up behind us.

“Here ya go, Emma.” River says, handing me my drink. It’s in a plastic cup with a lid and straw. “They don’t let you walk around with glass.” He explains.

“Ah. That’s probably for the best.” I chuckle.

“Thanks again.” I take a sip of my drink, the fruity flavor floating around my tongue and I try to follow along with the group as they chat around me.

I’m so fucking nervous. I don’t know Sage’s friends that well, and everyone else here is just so…

eclectic? I don’t even know if that’s a good enough word to describe the vibe surrounding us.

I don’t belong here and I don’t want to annoy them with my dumb curiosity.

I feel like a fish out of water, and it’s like everyone here knows it.

I should make an excuse and tell them I have to go home.

“Anything catching your eye?” Sage asks me, breaking me from my thoughts. “We can stop whenever you want to look at something. We literally have nothing else planned for tonight.”

I slowly blink at her. Is she a mind reader now?

“You forget that I used to know you incredibly well.” She whispers in my ear. “I know that you’re curious, and that you love this kind of shit. So don’t be nervous or think that your joy is too much for us, because we’re here to have fun. So, have fun Emma.”

“Okay.” I wheeze out. And it’s official, I have a big, fat crush on Sage Collins.

I have to laugh to myself at that thought.

As if the word crush can accurately describe what I’m feeling right now.

That the one little word can explain the way my heart is racing inside my chest at her proximity.

Her perfume swirling around in my nose making me dizzy in the best way.

The way my body tingles at the feel of her breath on my cheek as she’s whispering reassurances to me.

I swallow the emotion that’s clogging my throat and nod in the direction of a table that’s covered in painted bird houses. “Can we look at those?” I ask.

“Of course.” She says with a soft smile. “Oi! We’re looking at bird houses.” She calls to the others and leads us to the table.

Each is hand painted and adorable and I wish I could focus on the craftsmanship, but my mind is reeling at the fact that Sage is standing right next to me, her arm pressed softly against mine. “Your mom would probably love one of these.” She murmurs.

I nod. “Yeah.” I manage it get out. “I was thinking about getting her this one.” I say, pointing to one of the smaller options, it’s painted the same blue as her house. “She’d lose her mind over having a miniature version of her house, but for birds. She loves that kind of stuff.”

Sage chuckles. “She is one of a kind, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” I whisper. This feels surreal. Like stepping back into the past, sixteen again, joking about my mom’s current obsession. “Can I buy that small blue one please?” I ask the older woman manning the table. She wraps it gently and bids us good night after I’ve paid.

We rejoin River and Peyton who have wandered a little further up the street and are looking at what looks like jewelry made with resin and butterfly wings.

Sage jumps on River’s back, the two cackling as we move on.

Peyton rolls her eyes, hooking her arm in my free one as we walk behind them and it feels good now.

Like maybe I can fit here with them. The nerves from earlier are still there, but they’re buzzing deeper now, a low thrum of something exciting and different.

Because when that gorgeous girl with river rock eyes turns to look at me, my heart flips, and I know that I’m in deep, deep shit.