Figure 8 Ch. 06

Sylar never said a word that indicated they would be changing rooms. He simply stormed out, cursing underneath his breath, leaving her there to figure out what to do. She had nowhere to go and nobody to talk to. So she sat in the hotel room.

Her mind had turned off. Whenever people would say, 'Penny for your thoughts?' Emma would find it incredibly embarrassing to admit that she wasn't thinking of anything. Honestly, for a film major, her imagination was quite shitty. Trying to picture something original, without textual or visual guidance, could actually induce a headache; Emma understood film in rhythms, like musical beats.

So she sat, seeing the blank television and wooden furniture, but registered nothing. Emma could hear Adam's voice now -- Why can't you stand up for yourself? Good question, she wanted to reply. It was a valid point. She knew Adam try to dig into her subconscious, but rooming with Sylar had nothing to do with that. Hell, she was the kind of girl who rather wander the aisles of Target for hours than ask a sales clerk for help. And if she pretend being violated on the dance floor was normal, she could get by the next few nights. At least her mindless day dreams relieved her of the horror she would have to face tonight.

For now.

About an hour of staring at the ceiling, Emma got a text from Nick and Greg. Both messages essentially told her that the crew was setting up about a mile from the hotel. It took her thirty minutes to find them, and by the time she hurried to offer her help, they were almost done.

Emma tried to assist as much as possible, but when she tried to move along a twenty pound case, the men laughed at her. Sure, she was tiny, but she could hold her own! She rolled up her sleeves and bent down. The case was swept out from underneath her before she even blinked.

The longer she stood, the more useless she felt.

"Emma, you're just going to end up getting hurt. Why don't you just make sure no one steals our shit?"

They barely let her get a foot towards the scene. Another worker pushed her towards the van. Why did she have to be here if they thought she couldn't handle a thing? Reduced to a guard dog -- which she was sure they equated her to a yapping chihuahua -- Emma popped herself up and into the back of the van. Her legs dangled as if she were on a swing.

She wished Nick had been more thorough before asking her to come.

"Catch!"

Someone threw two hard items in her direction. She caught it, noticing that she had gotten two lollipops and laughed before pocketing them.

"Lighten up Emma, it's a good thing you don't have to ruin your back carrying this stuff."

Occasionally she was a stand in so that they could adjust the lights. Sitting as a prop was such a waste of her time and sanity. There wasn't enough silence for her mind to rest, but nothing intelligent enough was being said for her to become engaged. Back in college, lying in the grass with nothing but the scent of nature, used to soothe her mind. Nobody ever existed in a field of green... until now.

She tried to retreat to that place in her mind, the only place uninhabited by voices, but it wasn't there anymore. She focused on the pieces of sky and clouds that floated in between the trees. The lush green colors that once gave her peace only reminded her of one person. The images got more graphic when the crew started to throw specific instructions at her. Lie on the ground. Legs up. Legs spread.

Despite the sibling bond between them, Emma felt violated as the crew spat out the list of positions as if they were calling out Twister spins. Here she was, one of the only girls working a typically male job. It seemed to have just made her into a plaything. She moved onto her back again, trembling as they got another stand-in to pose above her.

It did wicked things to the mind bank that fueled her uncreative imagination.

Her breath stopped as they struggled to keep a good distance between each other without messing up the lighting.

"Sorry," he grinned, looking down at her. His arms were tense, crowding her in a way that made her wish the ground could just swallow her up. "We'll be done soon, Emma." She swallowed and closed her eyes. Never, in her life, had a man been on top of her like that. The women in videos -- not just the ones she worked on -- always seemed to enjoy it. The feeling of being trapped and being safe overlapped so thinly.

"Okay, done."

Emma squirmed with relief as the man lifted himself. She accepted his offer to help her up, and was gasped as his one arm lifted her with ease. "You're practically weightless," he laughed before turning back to the crew. Not sure whether to take the compliment, she just smiled and trekked back to the van.

Her legs dangled over the edge. Being surrounded by a male crew who wouldn't even let her move a finger unless it was to pose made her feel even lighter and smaller everyday. Maybe they had a point, but she wouldn't know unless they let her try. She wanted to be useful. Damn it, she was sure she could do everything just as well as they could.

One of the crew members started to scale a tree to screw in a lighting grip. He swung one leg around the branch and steadied himself before scooting up to throw a rope down to the rest. Hell, she could do that. She was sure she could. They were a bit far away, so she braved herself to yell and offer help when the men started laughing about something. They moved in sync, never instructing each other, and somewhere in between Emma lost the courage to speak.

Instead she stared at the depths of the forest, as the sun glinted against the deep forest colors. The dark trees loomed ahead. Again. She was sure this wasn't her imagination, but a faded memory.

The one person, someone she tried so hard not to think about, always came to mind. The longer she watched the wind rustle the leaves, the more she thought of him. He was like a forest, filled with moments of serenity that escaped the real world, but also wild at heart, a welcoming uninhibited freedom. Emma gulped as those thoughts lead inevitably to what all thoughts of Sylar led to.

Sex. Outdoors. Something about that heated her to the core. The fantasy was dangerously primitive. The thought of bare skin against cool air had her staring into the distance, day dreaming about two bodies entangled passionately together. Hot air from their breaths mingling with the relieving breeze... God, she didn't know why the thought of having sex in the forest turned her on. But it did. Or was it the idea of sex with -

She yelped when a large hand came down to ruffle her hair. Greg laughed, a boisterous joyful noise that reminded her of a characters in a children's play. He hopped into the back of the van and slid beside her.

"Why so serious, dearie?" he said, giving his worst Joker impression ever. Emma giggled her nervousness away, hoping her eyes didn't give anything away. Did arousal have a distinctive expression like happiness?

"Nothing. Why?"

Greg raised his brow. "Missing your boyfriend already?"

"What?"

"Oh, don't lie. That far-away, fantastic Wonderland look on your face has to be because of him. What's his magic tongue doing to you now?"

He leaned quickly away, avoiding her light slap as it hit empty air. They shared a laugh. Emma gazed at the woods, her mind off of her previous distraction and back to Adam. She felt guilty for not thinking of him. It should've been easier to do than breathe in air.

"A lot," she answered when Greg asked if she missed him. She was aware that the regret in her heart came out as longing in her voice, but she couldn't rewire her emotions. She could only fake them.

"You should've brought him with you."

"Oh no, he doesn't know what I do. And if he knew, he would be pissed..."

"Why? It's your job and your choice."

"He's just... traditional, I guess."

"Are you worried he's going to think you're a slut?"

Emma hadn't considered that possibility before. In fact, she had never really thought of why Adam would be against it, other than the fact that it felt natural that he should be. She knew him well enough to start shaking at the thought of him finding out.

"I don't know," she replied, only sure of one thing, "He wouldn't be happy."

"I suppose that makes sense. My boyfriend would be worried too, if he weren't in the business himself." He winked, making Emma blush a deep shade of crimson red. "Don't worry, honey, him behaving that way is a good sign!"

"Yeah?"

"Oh you have no idea how the dynamics of a relationship should work, do you?"

Emma felt even smaller. Her hands clasped over each other. "Well, it's my first relationship."

"Oh honey, how adorable. Childhood sweethearts?"

The delight in Greg's eyes was like a child waiting for a bedtime story as she rocked her hand from side to side. "Eh," she said. "High school?"

"Tell me everything," Greg said. "I love love stories."

His eagerness for a classic love story was endearing. The opportunity to trip down memory lane was a welcoming distraction. She could remember the day she met Adam. The image was as clear as present day, and brought her heart to a warm place.

"Actually, we didn't meet until college, but we did go to the same high school."

"Yes, and?"

"In college, we lived in the same dorm. I used to stare at him all the time, it was so embarrassing. He knew too, but he was used to it. And then one day, this girl smacked him on the ass and yelled, "Hey! Aren't you fuckable!" He was so shocked. I don't think any girl's ever actually physically hit him while hitting on him. I couldn't stop laughing and that's how he noticed me."

"What a meet cute!"

"Is that what they are called?"

"Yes, honey. For a film major, you should know."

Emma blushed.

She paused to pick at her knee, remembering the day she opened her door to find Adam standing there. His cool eyes watched her as she stuttered, wondering if he was looking for her roommate. He wasn't. It didn't take him long to convince her that he wasn't there to fuck around. He was persistent, genuine in his actions, and never once tried to make a move on her. It was sadly ironic how relieved Emma felt when Adam admitted he wasn't attracted to her. She was just better at pining away for unrequited love.

"We became really good friends after that. I don't really know why he liked me so much."

"Maybe it's because you're the first girl who didn't try to jump his bones."

"Oh, believe me, I tried. I just wasn't very good."

Greg shook his head playfully. "Liar. In reality you are a sneaky, sneaky flirt, Emma. Look where it's got you now. The boy you wanted since forever."

Emma smiled cautiously, not wanting to invest too heavily into Greg's compliments. While Adam admitted that he had always noticed her, it was never romantic. He made that distinctively clear when one of his friends joked about their relationship.

Even so, his actions had downright confused her. He would do little things for her, acts she recognized from movies, that would make her heart flutter. After a while she figured it was something he did for girls he liked.

Other days, she was just happy to always be the one he turned to. It was a complex situation that took years to untangle now.

But Greg was right. She liked today's results.

"Mm, having seen that boy, I can tell he was trouble in college."

Like reflex, muscle memory, or whatever the it was -- the image of Adam pressing a girl against the wall came back to her like a jolt of lightning. Her chest hurt.

Her friends told her he was just an above average player. Of course she had scoffed to that, believing him to be different. Adam had always been especially kind to her. He never let anyone be cruel or condescending. Not even his closest friends, who usually had free reign of voicing their sexist opinions on Adam's latest flings.

For the first year, Emma's emotions were in turmoil. On the other hand, some days Emma wished she was Adam's favorite one night stand. Other days, she was glad he never got sick of her. But at the end of every night, she wasn't sure exactly what she wanted from him either. Could she be loved for body and mind?

The back and forth emotions tormented her when they split for the first summer. Emma imagined Adam replacing her. It wouldn't have hard. She wasn't readily available to his beck and call as she used to be. His text and emails came at random hours of the night, and sometimes took days to return. At first she passed it off as simply Adam being Adam, but then her high school friends finally convinced her that he was intentionally stringing her along.

It was all in the body language, they said. His disarming smile and way he aligned his body against hers, arms wrapped casually over the shoulders, had them guaranteeing that he wouldn't miss her. Just friends. Guys didn't stay just friends with girls unless there was some sort of benefit.

"Guys like that will only break your heart, Emma. Trust us, we've been there, done that - worst decision of our life."

She believed them easily. They had more experience than her. Romantic, sexual and physical contact -- basically the department of life was not Emma's strongest suite.

So in the beginning, she managed to avoid him. During the second semester, Adam tracked her down. At first she thought it was coincidence to see Adam, who never studied, in the library all the time - there was a computer lab, and he was always printing something. But he always stuck around for her desk shift to end, lingering far too long. She had to get her co-workers to tell him to leave.

Then he would wait outside. Luckily, Emma knew the complicated building inside and out and managed to slip through different exits each time. She didn't how long Adam waited, but he was always there when her night shifts ended.

She had been walking down the Religion aisle when someone dragged her into one of the reservation only rooms. The lights were off, and as she scrambled to find the switch, a large hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. Three month and more did nothing to calm her heart. It had pounded so hard in her chest. Tears threatened to spring forth. The pain she felt from having him so close was infinitely worse than the sleepless summer nights without him.

"Oh hey Adam," she choked out, trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

Her eyes adjusted to darkness of the room. His nostrils flared as he mocked, "Hi Adam." His body, only inches from her, was oddly comforting. He was still lankly, his boyish figure exaggerated by his long arms that caged her, but she could feel the anger radiating off him more tangibly than before. She swallowed her thick saliva. It did nothing to soothe her dry throat.

Maybe it was the shadows from the aisles, but he looked older - more mature since she last saw him. His face had a light brush of a five o' clock shadow, and his hair no longer was no longer styled with that hard gelled look. It had grown out in short locks that curled and stood up on its own when he raked his fingers through it. God, her heart beat even fast, he looked even better than before.

"Are you avoiding me, Emma?" He pulled back and started pacing around the room. "Cause I've been trying to figure it out, trying to think about what I've done wrong, and fuck it all, short of possibly shooting a pigeon with a BB gun for fun; I don't know."

Shooting a bird with a plastic gun had crossed a line for her. Adam had a heartless streak in him that was often equated with "just being a boy," but Emma would always call him out. Her ability to cut through his bullshit was sharper than silver tipped arrow. The words always stung and left shallow scars that cautioned him the next time she was around. Her presence didn't always stop him from doing what he wanted. It did something stranger. It made him stop wanting to do certain things. He bent down to meet her lowered gaze.

"Was it the bird thing, Emma? Because I'm fucking sorry."

That was just the beginning of his long history of apologies. It had and hadn't been the bird thing. She told him half truths to avoid being vulnerable again. And he pleaded with her day in and out until she broke down and invited him back into her life. A choice that made the rest of her school year a wild roller coaster of emotions. It went from ecstatic when he chose to spend time with her to complete insomnia when he mentioned another girl. He dragged her heart through day and night, literally.

Things changed when she asked him to bring her to a party. She felt lost in a crowd of people, and felt even worse when she reached out to hold onto Adam as they navigated the small frat house. Her heart stiffened when he helped her to the dance floor and then disappeared, promising to get her drinks. One beer, two shot gunned beers and two shots later, Emma was so drunk that she didn't mind the hands gliding over her. Whoever had their grip on her waist spun her around and nearly had his lips over hers before she was ripped away.

She had held onto her savior's hand tightly, her vision blurred as she tried to register what was going on. Adam merely dragged her throughout the campus, from inside the frat house to the cold, fall air and then in front of her dorm room. It was there, with the bright fluorescent lights making her believe she was in heaven, that she yanked Adam's head down and furiously kissed his lips. For a second, he kissed back.

Then the rest was always in bits and pieces.

She remembered him tucking her into bed and sitting by her side, stroking her hair as she moaned about how fast the world was spinning. "Stupid girl. Why did you drink so much?" Then him getting into bed with her. She remembered wrapping her arms around his waist, focusing on how he kissed back. Her first kiss. His lips had pressed deeply against hers and the minute she whimpered, his tongue dipped in. It didn't feel like the way he had kissed other girls, forceful as if they had no time left in the world. It hadn't been. It was like they were taking their time. She thought she was different... until Adam tore her heart with a crooked dagger when he said he didn't feel the same.

That memory felt like a bad dream. It pained her to think about it. Even though the circumstances were now in her favor, the morning after always made her cringe. It would always be a reminder of a time when he didn't love her, not in the way that mattered most.

"I lo-loved him for a long time," Emma stuttered. The L-word slipped too easily from her lips. She wanted to take them back. "Or at least I understood how important I was to him since he insisted on staying friends. But then when he graduated, it only took two months for us to lose touch with each other."

She sighed.

"You guys have been through a lot, haven't you."

"You can say that..."

Greg chirped, "They could make movies on your kind of romance, Emma."

"No, it'd be so boring. Even porn has more plot."

"Sweetheart, you know better than that. Porn does not have more plot."

They burst into laughter together, and her throbbing heart steadied as she caught her breath again. A smile would always fall naturally into place as she thought of Adam. He made her happy, beyond happy; he made her feel assured of what she wanted for the rest of her life. Him. It should be that simple.

Their story just touched the tip of the iceberg. Adam had seen her in her worst, the very worst, and in her best element. She shuddered and took in a deep breath as the truth hit her with full force. She did love him, in many ways she always loved him, more than her heart could allow. He had been there for her and she couldn't just erase those memories, like it had never happened.