When they reached the car, he spun around as if he had forgotten something.

"I'll call you. Not ever seeing me doesn't mean not ever talking to me," Jonathan said to her.

"That counts also. Fortunately, I don't have a phone. I won't have to ignore your calls for the rest of my life," she told him, feeling a little bit stupid for saying her phone getting stolen was a fortune. She had people like James to talk to. He was probably worrying about her.

"Who doesn't have a phone in this century?" He asked her scornfully. "You need more than the grace of God to live."

There he went again with his elementary insult. He didn't like to be called rich, but he liked reminding her about how poor she was. He was the inconsiderate one.

"For your information, I had a phone. It was stolen yesterday." He was already getting in his car when she was answering.

Where was the gentleman in him that was supposed to open and close the door for her? Or had he stopped being nice because she agreed to go to his welcome party? He already had what he wanted. Great.

Emily walked to the passenger door and attempted opening it, but it was locked. She knocked on the window. All he did was bring the windshield down. 

"My jacket. Please." He stretched his hand towards her.

"Can't you wait till I get in?" She frowned more.

"I'm not taking you home. If I take you home, you'll owe me for this ride, too. You don't want to owe me more than you should, do you?" He smirked.

"I'm starting to really hate you."

"Musical," he smiled.

"Fine, I'll owe you for the ride. This is the last time I'll owe you," she said with gnashed teeth.

Jonathan unlocked the door. She got in, threw the jacket at him and didn't even look at him. She wasn't happy with him. He was being mean for no reason to her.

He started the car. They didn't speak to each other until they reached the junction to Emily's house. The car couldn't reach all the way, so he had to stop there.

She tried opening her door but it was locked. She glared at. She wasn't up for his games again.

"What?" She asked him when he kept staring at her.

"I haven't seen someone who looked beautiful while angry," he told her.

"Now you have. Can I go now?"

"Whoa. Chill. I wasn't referring to you. But you can take the trophy." He pressed the unlock button.

Emily didn't wait for him to say another word. She opened the door and stepped out. She had already had enough insult for the day.

"Emily," he called her name peacefully. She spun around and continued glaring at him, after he called her name the second time. "Please look your best tonight. It's an important night for me."

"Remind me to look my worst, because I don't even have anything to wear for your so-called important night."

"What do you have?" He teases and carried the windshield up before she could retort, grinning. He had a strong feeling that her comeback wasn't going to be easy.

Emily went home. Once again, she was back in her lonely world. She undressed herself and got into the shower. Not doing anything, she stood under the shower and allowed the water to do its work.

She was tired of standing under the shower, thinking about her mother once again. She didn't want to go to the hospital because she knew what exactly she was going to hear. However, she didn't want to neglect her mother.

More than ever, her mother needed her. Her presence alone would make her mother feel better, even while she was taking her last breath.

Life was really kicking her hard. Harder than she had ever anticipated.

As a girl growing up, she had thought of herself as a messiah. She would change her mother's life for all eternity. She would give her mother the life she deserved.

Life made it seem almost impossible. She was stuck. Nothing she could do. She couldn't even save her mother from death.

Emily felt useless.

She wiped her skin, went into her room and threw on a baby blue calf-length dress. She had decided not to go see her mom.

She wasn't neglecting her mother. Never. She was just tired of seeing her mother suffer without being able to do anything about it. It made her feel more terrible about herself.

Since she didn't have anything to do, she grabbed one of her mother's old books and read through until she fell asleep on the bed. She had planned to sleep before getting up to find something for the return party.

*****

Emily didn't know how long she had been sleeping, but when she got up, it was quite late. She had slept more than she had planned. She didn't even know how long she had to get ready.

Mumbling 'shit', she jumped off the bed and hurried into her room where her luggages were still packed. She hoped she had something decent to wear. If not, she would be Jonathan's enemy for the rest of her days.

She kept throwing the clothes out of the bag, not knowing it was making a heap behind her. The first bag had nothing she needed, she went to the last bag and didn't find what she wanted.

Emily turned around to browse through the clothes that were on the ground. She dug through them and finally pulled out a black, thigh-lenth dress that had a plaid from the waist down to the edge.

"Perfect," she said, holding the dress straight across her body to see how it would look with her in it.

It wasn't the real deal, but close. She went for it. She had no other choice. She didn't know she was going to meet Jonathan and be forced by him to attend his party.

There was a knock on the door. She ignored it at first, but couldn't ignore it anymore when it came back harder than the first.

She ran to the door and swung it open nicely. She didn't want her neighbours to think she disliked them checking in.

"Hello," a delivery man said to her when she opened the door. "This is for Emily Bedell."

She didn't order anything.

Her face was covered with confusion when the delivery man called her name. Where the heck was she supposed to get money to order a mysterious package?

"Are you sure it's the name there? I didn't order anything," she said.

"The name is accurate."

"Does it say who it's from?" She inquired, looking at the box. She could tell that holding the box was giving the guy a serious hell of a time.

"No. But it's for Emily Bedell, and this is the address."

She could tell that he was getting angry, though his voice was extremely calm on the outside. Inside him was obviously hotter than the lava inside a volcano.

She took the box from him, signed, and wished she hadn't let him hold the box for so long. It was heavy.

She placed the box on the floor of her living room after the delivery guy left. She'd wanted to know what was inside immediately before it be something dangerous— a bomb for example.

She removed the cover and was stunned.

"Jonathan."