Molly: Can I come over?

Me: Sure, but um, be careful of Emma

Molly: Emma?

Me: My little sister

Molly: I didn't know you had a little sister

Me: She isn't out much, she's . . . different
Don't let her freak you out though

Molly: Okay :)

Molly: I'll be there in twenty

Me: see you then

I blush. Molly's coming over. My first thought is, Yes, Molly's coming over! Than it's, Wait . . . Molly's coming over. I glance at Emma, as she sits on a box by my couch, staring at me. Emma isn't her real name, I don't think, but it's the one I gave her since people see her, people other than me.

I look at her attire, she looks the same as a few days ago. She has big, brown eyes, and hollow cheejs. She's skinny and small, no more than eight or nine--ten tops--years old. She has small lips, always shut. She wears her light brown hair in tight, braided pick tails, to pull together on either side, going down her scalp. They reached the middle of her shoulder blades, if that. She wears a flowy, but crinkly, white dress, with red flowers and red ruffles in the very bottom, and a red belt across the stomach, the shoulders puffy like Snow White's.

She sits upright, staring at me with what seems like pure hatred, scanning my face and calculating the best way to kill. It uneases me every time; there is no "getting used to it."

I take a deep breath in, sucking in through my nose, and letting it out fast. She stands, and continues staring. Silently, not even letting her footsteps make noise, she turns and walks around the box, down the hallway, and to another room. My eyes follow her until they can't anymore.

Creepy little girl.

The creature that is supposed to be innocent, the one with no name, the one I call Emma but probably aren't supposed to, drops something. I jump slightly, then stand and try to find her to see what happens.

I can't find her anywhere, not in my room, in the bathroom, or even behind lamps, so I decide to go back to where I sit and wait for Molly. I let Molly take over my thoughts.

~

"Kody!" Molly smiles, opening her arms. We hug at the doorstep, and then I bring her inside.

I look at her short red hair, and her pale/tan skin. She wears a purple tee under an orange leather jacket, and black yoga pants. I don't think any of it goes together, but she looks great in it. Her smile, especially, brings it all together, in a way.

"Come sit." I say, and draw her next to me on my white couch.

"Cozy." she compliments with a giggle, digging into the couch with her legs. She sits a few I chest apart from me. I smile at her.

"So, what's up?" I ask.

Her smile falters a little, "My parents are arguing again. It's so annoying. I just needed an escape."

I nod, "Understandable, okay. You wanna watch a movie or something?"

"I'd like that."

~

The movie is playing, it's Titanic.

"You know, this is really romantic, if you think about." I mumble, turning my head to face her.

She talks to me, but doesn't turn her head from the film, "What, the movie?"

"Well, yeah," I nod. "That, and this. Us. Watching a movie together." I feel my hand drifting towards hers, but I kept it steady on my lap.

She grins, showing her teeth lop-sidedly, "Guess so. Un, you know . . . " She finally turns to look at me. She seems to be getting closer, or am I? Our hands finally touch, and they grab each other harshly, interlocking like rock. Her other hand finds its way in the air, and as we look each other in the eyes, I think it falls into my hair.

"Your eyes, blue . . . they're pretty." I mutter. Our lips are together and we're kissing, before I even realize it. Our eyes are shut; I don't remember when they shut but they did, and this is good. She moves a little closer.

"I like you." she draws away slightly to speak. I want to reply but I can't--not because we're kissing, but because we're not.

She's staring at something behind me, looking confused, even a little afraid.

"What?" I croak, and look behind me. Emma is sitting directly behind me on the arm of the couch, staring.

"E-Emma," I stutter. "Molly and I are busy. Go play."

She sits for another moment, until she stands, moving almost robotically off the couch and onto the floor, walking slowly with each step into the kitchen. She doesn't come out.

"Sorry about that." I say, bringing Molly's eyes back to me.

"No, it's okay." she assures, glancing behind her at the wall that blocks the kitchen's view from where we are perched.

I slip my hand into her hair, and kiss her lips, "Let's go to my room, and pick another movie. This one's almost over."

She nods, grabbing my hand and pulled it from her cheek, taking a deep breath to forget Emma's awkward appearance, "Yeah. Come on." Her smile is back, and I couldn't feel better.

But Emma . . .

No. Right now it's about Molly--and I.