InsaneJournal

Who: Emily Parks & Sky Masterson
What: Emily has to earn her trip to New York.
When: Thursday evening.
Where: Around and about. On campus for now.
Rating: PG-13? TBA.
Status: Thread || Incomplete

Ask me how do I feel from this chemistry lesson I'm learning!

If there was one thing Emily Parks did not do, it was go on dates with boys. Granted, she didn't abuse (or use, for that matter) illegal substances, or sleep around (or sleep with anyone), or sell her soul to the devil, but she did have a self-imposed rule against dating. She had a lot of self-imposed rules. She didn't drink caffeine-- except for coffee, and only in small amounts when she absolutely needed to. She didn't go to parties, unless it was one thrown by the Dean or something academically oriented like that. But illicit parties? No sir. Emily Parks was, to be quite honest, your general too-smart-for-her-own-good, boring-as-can-be, straight-A-getting stick in the mud. But that said, she did have a side few people got to see. She was absolutely passionate about theatre, and loved to talk about it. If you could get her to loosen up enough to have a real conversation, her eyes would light up and the smile on her face was almost radiant. It was as if an entirely different person came out, one that had been trapped in Emily's uptight shell for too long and was dying to see the world.

But Emily wasn't quite sure why she was the subject of Sky Masterson's attentions all of a sudden. She'd always been cordial to him, truth be told, but they had never been particularly close until this year. She'd offered to help him with his homework, like she did with most everyone-- it wasn't a condescending thing at all; it was just second-nature to offer what she knew to others, even if they may not want it-- and he'd accepted. But last time... last time, she'd been so engrossed in disdain for her language class that she'd agreed to do it for him without realizing. And then he'd managed to get her to agree to go to dinner. She wasn't sure how that had happened either. Luckily, Sky hadn't gotten any ideas about it and they'd had a decent time.

And then the New York trip had been announced, and Emily had let herself be talked into it again. Only this time, there was a sense of urgency. She couldn't afford to go, it was true, and Sky's offer was kind. And though Emily knew that there were other people who would have gladly given over the money, she didn't like the idea of just taking something for nothing. So Sky's agreement to let her pay him back had pretty much cemented the deal, and so she was stuck with his idea of payment: an actual date. She wasn't entirely sure how this evening would be any different from the last time they'd had dinner, other than the actual title, but then Emily didn't know much about dating anyway. It was a fact she was half proud of and half ashamed of, especially now. If she'd known a little more, perhaps she wouldn't be so nervous.

Emily hated being nervous. Perched on the edge of her bed, she ran her hands over the skirt of the white dress she'd borrowed from Adelaide, the white leggings underneath a welcome barrier against the cold outside. A trenchcoat hung neatly on the rack against the door, the stark red color only encouraging her eyes as they flitted to the door every few seconds. Juliette had been through after her tirade, and Adelaide had been no better, dressing her up like a child's doll, changing her outfit once, twice, too many times. The dress was like nothing else she'd ever worn, and she'd had to borrow a pair of white pumps from the girl since her black ones would apparently "never work". Emily didn't know what to think.

So now she was just waiting, staring at odd places in her room, occasionally getting up to look at herself in her mirror and shake her head. She didn't look like herself. She looked like someone else. It wasn't stage makeup, or a costume, and Emily simply couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that perhaps, just perhaps, she very well might "clean up good".