Chapter 12

The rest of February passed uneventfully, thank God. The reds and pinks of the Valentine's day disappeared and with them went the winter. Piles of snow still lingered around the park and in people's shady driveways, but they too would melt away. That spring was a warm one, both in West Point and Toontown. Just as it had been in winter, spring blossomed in the cartoon world from one day to the next. While the temperatures at home were still a bit on the brisk side, they became much more comfortable the moment I stepped under the bridge.

The seasons weren't the only things to change. Ever since that Monday after the dance, the mysterious 'P' continued to leave notes in my locker. I tried talking to him the same day he returned my shoe, but as luck would have it the bell rang before I could take a step in his direction. Kids swarmed the hall, shielding the jeans and sneakers from view. By the time I made my way to his locker, he was gone. Of course, I told Charlotte and the princesses about the turn of events that Monday and they insisted on being updated on the situation as it progressed. They were determined to help me solve this mystery, just as I was determined to solve it. Until then, life went on as it usual.

I'd work, then study, then hang out with friends whenever I could find the time. This pattern continued as if every day were a new link formed onto a growing chain, a chain that would only be broken by two sacred words.

" SPRING BREAK!"

The doors of my school burst open with a force not seen since December. Streams of teenagers with a collective freedom complex poured into the street, ready to shake off the burdens of High School. I was among them, laughing my way through the crowd of kids on my way home before work. This week was going to be great. For the first time in months I wouldn't have to worry about anything. I was determined for that week to be as stress-free as possible.

It didn't take long for me to reach my house-

-And find that my hope for relaxation was destroyed.

A silver station wagon was parked on the curb outside the house.

"Oh no," I groaned.

Oh no, indeed. The sight of that car meant one thing and one thing only. Emmy.

I swallowed my displeasure as best I could, which wasn't too difficult given all the practice I had when dealing with table thirteen. A second before walking through the front door, I plastered a smile on my face and braced myself. A deep breath later, the front door was open.

"Riley!"

My Aunt and Uncle stood from their places on our couch. It wasn't often they came by, seeing as they lived clear across the state, but when they did they were sure to make up for lost time. I was crushed into a couple of hugs and given the customary over-enthusiastic greeting.

"Hey aunt Carmen, uncle Vince," I managed to choke out through squished lips. My aunt and uncle always had a talent for coming on strong, but they weren't the problem. I was more concerned about the person who was still on the couch.

"Hey Emmy," I tried to sound happy as Aunt Carmen relaxed her soul-crushing hug.

"Its Emilia," she corrected, " No one's called me Emmy since seventh grade." The smirk on her face made it hard to keep a scowl from my own.

Cousin Emmy. Pretentious and stuck up as always.

"Hey, Emilia," I said. She smiled but didn't say anything else.

" So tell us," Aunt Carmen settled back onto the couch, "What's new? We haven't seen you in ages!" My mom walked into the living room at that exact moment.

" Oh well-" I started to say nothing had changed, but my mom jumped in.

"Riley got her first job," mom smiled. I fought the urge to slap myself.

"Really?" Uncle Vince's caterpillar eyebrows rose together in delight, "That's great! Where?"

"It's a restaurant," never had I wanted a conversation to end as badly as I did in that moment. Sadly, it was not to be.

"That sounds nice," Emmy said with an air of false innocence so thick it was suffocating, "Are you the dishwasher?"

"I'm a waitress, actually," I answered.

"Not bad! It would be great if Emilia could find a nice job like that, but she's so busy with rehearsals and extracurriculars she just doesn't have the time," Aunt Carmen didn't say it with any ill intent. As far as she was concerned she was just stating facts. Even so her words grated my nerves more than I'd like to admit.

Emmy's smirk didn't falter, "Its a lot to handle."

There. That was it. The thing that made my cousin so unbearable: her talent. From an early age, we knew she was gifted. She was an ace at the guitar and took to voice, flute, and violin with the same ease. This wasn't an issue, or it wouldn't have been if she had been the average person. In Emmy, however, this planted a seed that had taken root and grown into a healthy oak of vainglory. Of course, my Aunt and Uncle were proud of her, as any loving parents would be, but they failed to see the size of the chip on Emmy's shoulder. What's worse, most of my family was blind to it as well, which led to her being put on a pedestal by both our relatives and herself. That said, Emmy wasn't afraid to rub her many accomplishments in my face. It was enough to give anyone their fair share of resentfulness.

" I bet it is," I answered, then added in as sweet a tone I could, "How long are you guys visiting?"

"Oh, we're just here for the night," Aunt Carmen said.

Yes! Went the voice in my head. Out loud I said, "Oh, ok. That's too bad."

Aunt Carmen shrugged, " Such is life. Vince and I are off to New York for an expo."

"Off to the Big Apple!" Uncle Vince bellowed with a hearty laugh.

"But Emilia's staying the week."

My stomach dropped. Just then I noticed the backpack and small suitcase resting at Emmy's feet.

"Yeah?" was all I trusted myself to say.

"Isn't it great?" Emmy said, "We can hang out all week. It'll be like when we were little all over again!"

"Maybe while she's here, you can show her where you work," My Mom wasn't aware of the evil she had suggested, " You have a shift tonight, right?"

"I'd love to see the place, Rye," Emmy looked like a cat toying with a mouse. Emmy knew when she had people fooled and when she didn't. It was one of her favorite pass times to use it to her advantage.

I sighed. There was no way out, "Sure."

"Awesome! I'll tag along with you tonight," She said, "You don't mind, do you?"

Oh I did mind. Very much, actually. But there was no way I could be honest and come out unscathed. Instead I sucked in air through my teeth and answered through a tight smile, "Not at all."

It was in that moment that I realized I was in for a very long night.

"Why are we walking through the mud again?" Emmy scrunched her nose at the moist earth that squished beneath her boots.

"You wanted to see the restaurant, didn't you?" We hadn't even made it to the bridge and already I was losing patience.

"Yeah," She said, "But-"

"Then this is the only way to get there," I said, "Now, hurry up or we're gonna be late."

A minute later we reached the bridge. Emmy did her best to wipe her shoes clean on the driest patch of grass she could find, "Alright, now what?"

"We close our eyes and walk through there," I pointed under the arch. Emmy looked from my face, to my finger, to the bridge and back again. She did this a total of four times before crossing her arms.

"You've got to be joking."

" I'm not."

Emmy inched towards the bridge. She inspected the grimy stones that made up the underside of the arch. I'm not proud to admit it, but I relished the look of horror that crossed her face whenever she came across a patch of mold. At last she whirled around and said the only thing she could.

" You're insane."

I rolled my eyes, "And I'm going to be late if you don't do what I'm telling you."

When she refused to move I sighed and walked past her, " Fine. Your loss."

With that, I shut my eyes and walked through to the other side. When I opened my eyes Emmy was nowhere to be found. Good, I thought, maybe that meant she gave up and went back home. Just as I turned to leave, two footsteps and a yelp sounded just under the bridge. Looked like she listened after all.

"What is going on?" She cried.

With a smirk I turned around and splayed out my arms, "Welcome to Toontown!"

Emmy gave no response because, for quite possibly the first time in her life, she had nothing to say. Instead she stood with her mouth open in a way that looked like she was frozen mid-yawn. Her eyes shifted from building to building so rapidly they looked like tiny blurs in her animated form. The sight was a rare treat, but time was not interested in allowing me to savor the moment. It had things to do and with a chime of a clock, reminded me that so did I.

All the same, I crossed my arms and said, "I understand if this is too much for you. It's a lot to handle."

Emmy's offense outweighed her surprise. She closed her mouth, stood up straight and squared back her shoulders, "Don't worry about me. I've handled worse."

I shrugged, "Okay. But if you want to go back home, it's the same way we came. There's no shame in leaving."

"Oh, but I just have to see where you work," Emmy said, "Any place that's willing to hire you is worth checking out at least once."

I frowned at the exact moment Emmy smirked. That egotistical little self-glorifying splooshcanoe! Even when she was hit with something so outrageous she couldn't even speak, she still had to act like she was better than everyone. I would have loved to shove her back under the bridge and be done with it, but I was already running on the late side of right on time. With a frown I turned and started walking. Emmy's footsteps sounded off right behind me, each one rattling my nerves more and more. How annoying must a person be for their footsteps to get to me? Better question: how was I going to work while Emmy was around?

Pretty soon we made it to the club. Emmy looked at the sign with a glimmer of recognition, but otherwise didn't say anything. Instead she squared her shoulders and sashayed ahead when she caught me staring. I rolled my eyes. Priss.

"Hey guys," I called out when we got backstage. Mickey peeked out from his dressing room while Minnie was on her tablet as usual, and by the look on her face I could tell it was going to be a crazy night.

Mickey shot me a "Hiya Riley!" then shifted his gaze over to Emmy. My cousin's look was sweet enough to induce diabetic shock.

"Who's this?" Minnie asked.

"My co-"

"My name is Emilia," she stepped forward and extended a graceful hand towards the mice, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Minnie," Minnie shook her hand and looked Emmy up and down, "Are you a friend of Riley's?"

"My cousin," The words flew from my mouth a little tenser than I'd wanted them to, "She's visiting and-"

"I'm staying for the week, and when I heard Riley had a job I just had to see the place," She flashed her grin in my direction.

"Oh well, it's nice to meet ya, Emmy," Mickey said, "Didja wanna stay for the show?"

No. She wouldn't. The words popped into my head as soon as Mickey suggested the idea. Emmy was not staying for the show. All she was here for was to see where I worked and that was done. She got what she wanted. Now it was time for her to go home and leave me alo-

"A show! I'd love to!" Emmy beamed.

Damn. She even managed to interrupt my inner monologue.

"I don't think that's a good ide-" I started to say. This time it was Mickey who did the interrupting.

"Great! Minnie'll find ya a table!" With that Mickey turned back into his dressing room to finish getting ready. Two seconds later, Minnie found Emmy a table, and two minutes later I was pulling the seat out for her to sit.

"Aww, why do you look so upset?" Emmy asked. Her mouth was set in a frown, but her eyes were gloating. She'd succeeded in putting my boss and his girlfriend under her spell and she knew it. Of course she could resist turning the knife.

I sighed, "We're alone. You can cut the act already."

Emmy simply batted her lashes, "What act?"

For a moment we just stared at each other. Emmy with her faux innocence, me with tired annoyance. It was like a strange battle for dominance. You know how people tell you not to look an animal in the eyes for too long or it might get angry? I found out right then that the principle also applied to humans. The sickening gleam of victory on Emmy's face was grating. It made me want to punch her jaw and turn away all at once because I saw it for what it was: a challenge. And I'd be damned if I let her win on my turf.

"Riley! We need you in the kitchen," Max's voice called, making me look away. I lost.

I turned back to Emmy, more out of habit than anything. Her smirk made me flinch, "Have fun."

Three hours later, I trudged into the kitchen. Without a word, I dropped the order to Gus, then pulled up a chair at the back table. Max was there sipping on a drink. He froze mid sip in favor of watching me rub my forehead.

After a second he gulped and asked, "Rough night?"

A groan was his only answer as I let my head hit the table. There was a beat of silence where the only sound was Gus' utensils and sizzling food as he cooked. I heard Max put down his drink.

"Table thirteen again?"

I raised my head, "Worse. My cousin."

"Cousin?" Max cocked his head, "You mean that girl in the back? Short hair?"

"Yes," I said.

"Really?" Max frowned, "She seems harmless."

Gus honked to let me know the orders were ready. I stood and piled the steaming plates of food onto a tray, "Far from it. She's a pain."

I balanced the tray against my shoulder and headed for the door. Max got up to help me swing it open, "Yeah? How?"

Max was still holding the door open when the call of "Oh, Waitress!" rang for eighth time in one hour. Emmy sat at her table and waved an empty glass back and forth at me. I turned to Max.

"That's how."

Pile of food still balanced on my tray, I made my way over to Emmy.

"You needed something?" It was more a statement than a question at this point.

Emmy waved her empty glass at me once more, "A refill."

"Right," the tray in my hand wobbled under the weight of the food, "Well, you're gonna have to wait."

"But I'm thirsty now!" she pouted, "Honestly, is this how you treat your patron's? I thought you were better than that, Rye."

Her words provoked the tense ball of anger that rested in my chest, "Yeah? Well I-"

"Gawrsh, Riley," of course Goofy would show up then. He carried his own tray of food on his way to the kitchens, "Better get that food to the dwarves. They won't be happy if they have to wait much longer. Even Happy, ahyuck!"

"Oh, go do your job, cuz," she said, "We can chat later!"

Part of me wanted to "accidentally" spill the entire tray of food onto Emmy right there. But knowing my luck that kind of stunt would probably get me fired. Instead I shot her a glare and went on my way.

We'll chat later. Really? We'll chat later? I couldn't believe her. She got me in trouble with Goofy of all people. Goofy! I never got in trouble with Goofy. But now she comes, into my job, making me look like a slacker! I hefted the tray a little higher as I marched over to the dwarve's table. She was the one who called me over in the first place. Then she comes out with a "we'll chat later?" I got to the table and placed the orders down one by one in front of the seven hungry toons. Each plate made contact with the tabletop harder and harder in time with my thoughts until I almost spill poor Bashful's drink over.

"Sorry, guys" I cringed. The rest of the meals were delivered much more gently from then on, "Enjoy."

When I went backstage for my break ten minutes later, Minnie was in a frenzy of her own. She tapped away at her tablet muttering "Oh dear. Oh this is terrible!"

I'd seen Minnie in this kind of state before, but it was a rare sight. For something to get the mouse so worked up it must have been something horrible. Minnie was a master at keeping a level head.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"The Quackstreet boys!" Minnie cried, "They've come down with an awful cold and, oh, what are we going to do? We don't have a replacement!"

I furrowed my brow, "Aren't there other bands?"

"They're all booked," Minnie shook her head, "Besides, there's no time to hunt down a replacement."

"I'll do it."

The sound of the last voice I wanted to hear broke through Minnie's panic. Emmy stood at the entrance of the backstage area looking as fake innocent as ever.

"What are you doing back here?" I said.

"You forgot my refill," Emmy replied, then to Minnie she said, "If you need a musician, I can do it. I've been taking voice lessons for years."

"You have?" Minnie was like a fish drawn by a baited hook.

"Uh-huh! Just ask Riley, she'll tell you."

"That's wonderful! You wouldn't mind?"

The prospect of a cheering crowd? No, she wouldn't mind. Really, Emmy wasn't doing anything wrong. In fact, she was doing the club a massive favor. But the combination of her actions that night along with the years of resentment only made for her actions to seem atrocious. Especially when I knew that after that night, she would be impossible to live with. It was just another thing for her to lord over my head. I had to put a stop to this.

"Are you sure?" I asked, "You don't know any of the Quackstreet Boy's songs."

Emmy waved me off like I'd just said something ridiculous. Really, she was right. It was a lame excuse. But at the time it was the only thing I could think to say that might change Minnie's mind.

"I'll just sing something else," Emmy said, "Maybe, I don't know, what's the name of that singer. The one that looks like Goofy?"

I froze as a snippet of memory played behind my eyes. When we were younger that was the one thing we'd had in common: a love for A Goofy Movie, "Powerline?"

Minnie nodded at the suggestion, "I'm sure Horace has some Powerline tracks in the sound booth. They might be little old, but they'll do. Which song?"

Which song? I knew exactly which song before she even said it.

"How about Standout?"

And that's how, fifteen minutes later, Emmy was fitted with an in-ear and waiting to go on. From my place in the dining room, I could see her waiting in the wings. She sent me a little wave from her spot. I turned away towards table thirteen. Somehow they were more bearable to look at.

Mickey ambled his way up to the microphone a minute later.

"Alright folks! Tonight, we got a special treat for ya! Singing a cover of Powerline's hit, please welcome a brand new singer: Emilia!"

Emmy sauntered onto the stage all smiles and waves as the patrons of the club clapped. Even from where I stood I could see she was totally in her element. This was where she shined her best and she was ready to show Toon Town exactly what she could do. The music track pum-de-pumped over the speakers once she was in position. I watched as she opened her mouth and sang straight into the mic.

Her voice was powerful and perfect, but every note scraped at the inside of my skull. The better she sounded, the angrier I became. Apparently it was pretty obvious.

"Whoa, kid, you look like you're hair needs to be on fire," Hades taunted. I didn't bother replying.

That's when it happened.

Exactly halfway into the song, right as Emmy belted out an impressive note, the tape skipped. Then skipped again. Then in a long, deepening whir, the music descended into silence. Emmy's voice died at once. She twitched, unsure of whether to continue or wait. The music started again for a moment, then stopped again, then skipped to another track entirely. The crowd was murmuring now.

The sight of Emmy standing frozen on that stage, totally exposed brought with it a measure of deep satisfaction. It was something to take her down a few notches. She always paraded around with such an unhealthy amount of pride, she deserved a big old slice of humble pie. As awful as it sounds, I was glad that it happened. A little smirk even tugged up at my lips as I watched her begin to fidget. Good.

"Serves her right."

"Does it now?"

Maleficent's voice snapped me back to reality. I looked straight at the evil fairy only to find her examining me. I hadn't realized I'd said the last bit out loud.

"What a refreshingly spiteful opinion," Maleficent said with the hint of a smile. I froze. Maleficent was a terrifying villain in her own right, but it wasn't her that scared me. It was her words. What's more, it was the way she was looking at me, with a glint of admiration.

My stomach sunk as I realized I'd said something that gained a villain's approval. No, that wasn't it. It wasn't what I'd just said, but what I'd been thinking that entire night. Sure, Emmy was acting like a huge jerk, but did that give me a right to do the same? There was Emmy, on stage and trying not to panic while her audience whispered about, and there I was enjoying it. Suddenly the whole thing didn't seem as enjoyable as it had moments ago. Slowly, I peeled my gaze away from Maleficent and up to Emmy. Even from where I stood it was clear she was fighting not to cry. The same thing that gave me such pleasure was now tearing at my insides as I realized that at some point, I became a villain.

I had to fix this.

Without a word I dropped by notebook and dashed towards the stage.

Emmy was searching around for Mickey as the track went crazy. Horace was up in the sound booth struggling with his equipment. Finally, the music simply cut and all that was heard was the crowd. I dashed towards the stage amid the confusion until I made it to the grand piano that sat at the end of the stage.

Mickey was just about to wander out from his place in the wings when the first chords of Eye to Eye rang out. Emmy whipped toward the piano. She didn't sing. Instead she furrowed her brow at me. For a second time, I played the opening chords and waited. That's when she got the message. Emmy nodded slightly and I replayed the chords a third time.

Here's one thing that not many know about me: I'm a decent piano player. Sure I wasn't concert pianist material, but I knew enough to play the odd pop song. And Chopsticks. But everyone knows Chopsticks.

Anyways.

The third time around, Emmy was ready. When the cue came she belted out the song like a pro. I'm not sure who started it. Maybe it was Mickey, or Max, or even Emmy herself, but the audience started clapping along to the beat. The beat was enough to restore Emmy's usual confidence. From then on she owned the stage, strutting from end to the other, improvising some amazing riffs. She even managed to work the crowd enough to get them singing along too! Before then I hadn't really seen just how amazing she was at performing. I guess I was too busy brooding.

Before any of us knew it, the song ended and the house let out a thunderous applause.

The walk back from the club that night was the polar opposite of what it was that afternoon. At first it was awkward. We walked in silence, neither one of us dared to acknowledge what had happened earlier. At first I thought nothing changed, but after walking a while I got the feeling that the opposite was true. I didn't know about Emmy, but after realizing just how awful I'd been all night it was hard to face her. After her performance she'd been much more subdued. She stopped calling me over to her table every two minutes. Maybe she felt the same.

When we were near the bridge, I decided to cut the tension, "You did great tonight."

"Uh, thanks," Emmy rubbed the back of her neck, "so did you."

More awkwardness descended while we crossed back into West Point. Halfway through the park, it was Emmy who spoke first this time.

"Listen, Rye…" She was uncomfortable. If I was being honest, so was I.

"How about we just… start over?" I asked, "Forget everything and just pretend none of the bad stuff happened?"

Emmy nodded, "Sure. That sounds pretty good, actually."

We went on our way again. A few steps later, I smiled, "But can we talk about that performance? You had everything so under control."

"Control?" Emmy burst out laughing, "that was terrifying! You're the one that saved it with the piano."

"Whatever," I shrugged, "Next time, though, we need to get Goofy to do the Perfect Cast."

Emmy cocked her head, "Wait, that's actually a thing?"

I nodded, "I've seen him do it."

"You're lying."

"Nope. I've seen it. Honest to God," I crossed by heart, "Maybe he can show you. That is if you're up for another night at the club?"

"Please," Emmy rolled her eyes, "It's nothing I can't handle."

After a second I nudged her with my elbow, "You're impossible."

"So are you," she said.

That walk home was stilted and awkward all the way through, but by the end of it we both had a sense of closure. Whatever gripe we had against each other was done. We decided to move forward. Of the things that happened that night, both good and bad, one thing was clear. No matter how crazy we drove each other, we were still family and we'd have each other's backs. Always.

BAM. Updated.

I'm so sorry for my very very VERY long absence. Life's been hectic on every front and I've been through quite a lot since the last chapter (which might be why this one might read a little differently than the others). But I'm back! And I'm going to try and set up some kind of update schedule for my stories.

That being said, I do need some ideas (since the notebook I kept Riley's story in is back in Florida…) so if you have any, I'm all ears.

Also: if you're a fan of Little Mermaid and horribly thought out ideas, check out my other fic Marooned (which also needs a lot of love…).

Also Also: I have a tumblr! Just look up CurlyFirefly and you should find me just fine. My blog's a mess right now, but I do have links to all of my fics on there and it would mean a lot if you'd follow. If not, it still means a lot that you're reading this.

Alright, that's really it for now. As always, reviews are appreciated. Constructive criticism is especially appreciated. Flames make me giggle.

It's good to be back…

~Curly out!