You Were The First Mile

By Luna

Chapter 1: Shattered Dreams and Bright Beginnings

AN: I would like to label this story as a companion piece to Shine.

You can read You Were The First Mile without having read Shine, but they line up together and feature some of the same characters, so I feel like you'll have a better understanding of everything if you have read Shine.

Emma Woodhouse stared speechlessly at the face of her friend, Taylor Weston, who was looking appropriately apologetic. Until just moments earlier they had been roommates. Emma had only moved in to the new apartment a few days earlier, and her boxes still lay haphazardly about the rooms, stacked in little geometric castles. The walls smelled of fresh paint, and they were sitting on the hard metal of folding chairs because the movers weren't bringing her couch for a few days. She had been so excited to finally move out of the university dorms and into her own apartment. She had never expected that her first full day would begin in such a depressing manner.

For several moments she could do nothing but stare at Taylor, whose face looked more and more guilty as the minute passed. Taylor adjusted her dark hair in her pony tail and scratched nervously at her elbow, trying to distract herself from the uncomfortable situation. Emma wished she were dreaming. She hoped it was only a nightmare and that she would wake up very soon to find her best friend just down the hall, sleeping in her new bedroom in the posh apartment they had chosen together, but she knew very well that it was no dream. Dreams never left that bad taste in the back of her mouth.

"But you already paid your half of the security deposit," Emma finally managed to say, swallowing hard and tucking a strand of her long, blond hair behind her ear. This pragmatic statement was all she could come up with. Her elaborate dreams for senior year at Pemberley University were lying in ruin around her. She had spent all summer envisioning what the new school year would bring, and now none of it would happen.

No Friday margarita nights, even though she had bought that blender specifically for such purposes. It would remain unused and dusty on the counter, a complete waste. No more days of baking brownies and cookies or sharing meals together with Taylor. No more grocery shopping together, splitting the costs and making home cooked culinary masterpieces in their kitchen. In Emma's imagination, all their household appliances had sparkled, the chrome of the mixer shining like a silver star. No more spending hours watching pointless, trashy TV together, laughing at the poor souls who signed up to be mocked by all of America. Instead, Emma would be alone, with no one to help distract her from her school work and while away the hours. She'd be alone and she would be lonely.

Taylor winced at Emma's sentence. "And you can keep my half of the deposit," she said hurriedly in reply. "I know I'm a terrible friend for running out on you like this, but Michael's finally ready to commit. How many hours did you have to listen to me whine about when he was going to grow up and ask me to live with him? I thought it was never going to happen. Of course he had to wait until I'd already made plans with you," Taylor muttered. She looked up at Emma, pleading with her eyes. "If I don't move in with him now, I'm afraid it'll be the end for us. I'm just so happy he's finally ready to move forward with our relationship. You understand, don't you Emma?"

The nasty part of Emma's mind wanted to vehemently reply no, but looking into the excited face of her friend she felt the small amount of anger dissolve away, and she grabbed Taylor's hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Of course I understand. You're right. You should do whatever you need. I want you to be happy with Michael."

After all the work they had done scouting out the perfect apartment, Emma couldn't believe that Taylor was seriously ditching her to move in with her boyfriend. They'd spent hours combing the city, as Emma had some serious qualifications about what type of establishment she could possibly live in. She needed large windows that let in all the sunlight. She wanted it within walking distance of the campus. She absolutely needed a gas range stove and hardwood floors. And it was very important that she was also within walking distance to one of the local bars. She needed some way to unwind after a stressful day of class, and she certainly wasn't going to drive to Boston to do it. The search had taken many weeks, but they had finally found the perfect apartment, and now Taylor was leaving her! It was inconceivable.

Taylor reached forward to give Emma a grateful hug. "I knew you would understand. Emma, you're the best. I'll still visit all the time. It'll be just the same as if I did live here with you."

"You'd better visit me," Emma replied, but she had serious misgivings. This was not what she had signed up for.

Taylor stayed to chat for some time, and when she finally left, Emma set about unpacking her things, her mood seriously dampened. She felt like a pricked balloon. All summer she had imagined the greatness that would be her senior year, and she'd been abruptly forced to face the truth. Forget great. Forget mediocre even. Her senior year was possibly going to be the worst of her academic career.

She'd spent her whole summer in her home town in Connecticut, spending her time being a life guard at the local pool. She loved it because she got to loaf all day in the sun. Occasionally she blew her whistle, but mostly she just tanned. It'd provided her ample opportunity to day dream about the upcoming year. Somehow classes had never entered her head. She'd only ever thought about the evenings and weekends out with her friends. Now her best friend had left her.

She wanted Taylor to be happy, but at the same time she had difficultly fathoming why it meant so much to Taylor to move in with Michael. She couldn't understand it at all. Emma had never been interested in dating. College men weren't any more mature than they had been in high school, and she didn't want to waste her time with them. She'd had plenty of offers and she occasionally went on dates with the more attractive ones, but nothing ever became serious, and she never wanted it to. A relationship seemed like so much more trouble than it was worth. Why should she bother with commitment when there was always some boy or another who was dying to take her out on a Friday night; one she would never have to worry about again come Monday morning. When she graduated and entered the real world, she thought she might look in to finding a serious relationship, but for now she avoided them. She was young and clever, she was pretty, and she did not need to be tied down in a dysfunctional relationship.

And dysfunction was all that her peers seemed to be capable of.

Emma sighed, unwrapping glasses in the kitchen. How unfortunate it all was! She and Taylor had been basically inseparable ever since they'd shared a medieval history class their sophomore year, and now, just like that, Emma had lost her. Taylor had retreated into Relationship-Land, leaving Emma far behind. What was she going to do?

"And I'm the one who introduced them! That's the worst part. You think they would show me a little more consideration and respect, but no, Taylor just said 'there there' and then ran off to be with her boyfriend," Emma finished indignantly, wiping down the table and the plastic neon colored chairs. She had watched one of the children spill at least half of his carton of orange juice on the chair and the floor, so she knew that the seat of the bright green chair was going to be a sticky mess. Still, she scrubbed with more vigor than was actually necessary, taking her feelings of anger and betrayal out on the chair. She had put on a happy face for Taylor, but now she was free to show her real feelings. She'd been ranting for nearly ten minutes while she and Grant Knightley finished closing the daycare for the day.

Emma had volunteered at Mrs. Goddard's daycare during the first semester of her freshman year as part of a community service requirement. She had picked it from the list of options because it had seemed like the easiest one. She had always liked kids, so why not work with them? She'd had no idea that she would fall in so much love with the place. The daycare was small, located in a residential neighborhood not too far from Pemberley's campus. They watched around 12 children from the ages of three to nine. Emma and Grant worked from 3 until the day care closed at 6 o'clock.

She had loved working with the children; they brought her endless amounts of amusement, and Mrs. Goddard was kind and easy going—in short an excellent supervisor. Grant had started volunteering for his community service around the same time as Emma, and they'd both stayed on after they'd finished all their hours. After three years of steady experience Mrs. Goddard let them basically run the afternoon shift. She spent most of the time in her office, where Emma knew she was practically buried under miles of paperwork.

The daycare was offered as a free service to underprivileged families. Most of the people on staff were volunteers, and an annual charity fundraiser made up the rest of the budget. Local churches and businesses were the main contributors to funds. The toys and furniture were all donations as well. Without their help, Emma was sure the daycare wouldn't have been able to survive. Emma made sure that her father donated a sizable sum each year in the Woodhouse's name. She wanted to make sure there would always be a place for the children.

"If it weren't for me, they wouldn't even know each other," Emma said, still grumbling pettily about Taylor and Mike. She wiped crumbs and leftover pencil shavings into her hand before throwing them in the trash.

Grant was shaking his head, his light brown hair glinting in the fluorescent lights. "You did not introduce them."

Emma turned to him, her hand on her hip, a perfect picture of sass. She looked at him defiantly. "I did too."

Emma thought it was funny that Grant seemed to be the only person who ever contradicted her. She had a gift for leading others, but he seemed immune to her charms. Although occasionally it was refreshing, most often she wished that he would just go along with the things she said. No one else seemed to care if what she said was the complete truth or not.

Grant deposited the blocks he had been holding into the toy bin and then gave Emma a disbelieving look, a smirk playing across his mouth. "Didn't they meet at the One Act play performances?"

"Yes, but only because I got sick and left early. Then Michael just happened to sit in the seat next to Taylor, which wouldn't have been empty except for me." Emma turned away loftily and continued wiping down the table. "See. All because of me."

Grant laughed and scoffed, walking over to straighten the small plastic chairs on the other side of the table. "I see. So because you were too hung-over to sit through a play, Taylor owes you for her entire relationship. Obviously, the only thing holding them together is the fact that they met by sitting next to each other. There's no way they actually like each other."

Emma couldn't help laughing at that, and she caught his eye. "It was divine intervention, you see. I couldn't have picked a better time to throw up."

"It was luck. If it hadn't happened then, they would have met another way. Mike was always interested in her. I doubt you had anything to do with it at all."

Emma flipped her hair over her shoulder, tired of the discussion. She knew she was right, and she didn't care if Grant believed her or not. "In any case, that's not the point."

"There was a point to all this? I hadn't realized…" Grant said sarcastically.

"Knightley, what am I going to do?" Emma asked forlornly, ignoring his previous statement. "I can't live alone all year; I'll go crazy. In two months you'll find me in the corner drinking cooking sherry and eating my own hair." Emma had started seriously, but was straying far in to the ridiculous. "I'll have on a big, flowery muumuu from K-mart and a bonnet made of tin foil so that the aliens can't get my brains." She could have continued but Grant interrupted, laughing at her.

"On the bright side, you wouldn't really need a roommate; you could have perfectly good conversations with yourself."

She laughed in surprise, her smile wide and carefree. She held up her hands a few moments later. "Okay, I'm serious now. What should I do?" She gave him a pleading look. As much as she joked with him, she valued his opinion highly. He was a senior, like her, but unlike her, he always seemed to know exactly what to do. He was a master of common sense. She knew he never did stupidly impulsive things that he seriously regretted later, like she did. Each of his actions was carefully calculated and planned, and he generally made the right move. Emma envied him for it.

"And it's safe to say that you don't need someone to help pay the rent," he began, and Emma mouthed the word 'No'. Her father was an extremely wealthy banker, and he was paying for everything.

Grant nodded, and Emma watched his slate blue eyes stare off in to the distance, going blank for a moment while he thought. He turned and focused on her again. "Why don't you put up a flier around campus? I'm sure someone is looking for a place to live." He shrugged. "If that doesn't work, I might know some people who'd be interested."

Emma smiled slowly as what he had said sank in. It was the perfect idea, of course. She'd been too distraught to even think about a new roommate, but she was sure it would be easy to find someone. People put up those fliers all the time in the mail room. It would work perfectly because she would have all the power to choose who she wanted to live with. She'd give some interviews and pick the best candidate. Most importantly, she'd no longer be alone.

"That's brilliant. Thanks Knightley!"

He gave her a wry smile, and she helped him finish stacking the chairs. She looked around the room to check for anything more to do, but they were finished cleaning. Emma was always amazed by how trashed the room was by the end of the day. The children were like little tornadoes, flinging away everything in their paths. The toys were always far out of place, the chairs were halfway across the room, and Emma didn't know how, but there were always leftover articles of clothing like socks lying in the corners and under the tables.

Even when the room was empty, Emma got the impression of children, like their echoes were still running, laughing, and playing. She smiled before turning off the light. Grant was already waiting by the door. They walked outside together, separating as they walked to their vehicles. She waved goodbye to him as she got into her car. She couldn't wait to get home to make her fliers. How many exciting possibilities there were in getting a new roommate.

Emma smoothed her hair and adjusted her small head-band. She'd worn it because it was trendy, but it was hurting her ears. She didn't like the way it poked. She paced restlessly for a moment before walking to the bathroom to check her reflection. She immediately got rid of the headband and ran her hands through her hair to straighten out the kinks. She looked in to her own brown eyes for a moment thoughtfully before deciding to put on a little lip gloss. She was interviewing two people who had responded to her flier, and the first candidate was due at any time.

Emma reviewed what she knew already. Harriet Smith was coming to the apartment at one o'clock. She was technically a senior like Emma, but she had transferred in to Pemberley her sophomore year, and so she was registered as a junior. Emma knew she played soccer, but had never met Harriet before. They didn't seem to associate with the same group of people outside of class.

The intercom buzzed, and Emma snapped the top back onto her lip gloss. She hurried over to let Harriet up. She had time to smooth her shirt and pick off a few pieces of lint before there was a timid knock at the door. Emma put on a bright, false smile before swinging the door open. Emma felt her smile ease in to something a bit more natural as she got a good look at Harriet. She looked nervous, but neat and presentable, and Emma thought she was easily one of the prettiest people she had seen up close. They were opposites, and perhaps that was why Emma thought her so striking. Emma's hair was long and honey blond while Harriet's was chestnut brown. Her eyes were dark blue and Emma's were brown, and Emma, being rather tall and lanky for a girl, was a good six inches taller than petite Harriet.

Emma liked her immediately. She seemed harmless and good-natured, like a little bird. "I'm Emma," she said, offering her hand. She ushered Harriet inside. "It's nice to be able to put a face with your voice. Let me show you the apartment."

She saw Harriet's awestruck expression and smiled to herself. She was used to the apartment, but she could see how nice it looked through Harriet's eyes. The dark, hardwood floors matched the woodwork on the large windows and expansive arches. It looked expensive and impressive. Emma's furniture and decorations gave the rooms a bright, airy feel, and all the rooms looked professionally decorated, not like a college student's first apartment. The staple beer posters and tacky Christmas lights were nowhere in sight. Emma had a knack for décor and she knew it. Still, she felt inclined to let Harriet in on the downsides.

"The floors are really creaky, so they're not good for light sleepers. I'm sure the windows will be really drafty in the winter. There's only one bathroom, and its cabinets aren't really functional…" But every feature on Harriet's face expressed delight.

"This place is amazing."

Emma glowed with pleasure and showed Harriet into the empty bedroom. "My bedroom is down the hall. But this one has a pretty nice sized closet too." Emma watched as Harriet explored the apartment like a small child, muttering the word 'wow' over and over.

As they came to the close of the tour, Harriet turned to Emma excitedly. "This place is great. I'm definitely interested. I would love to live here. You know, I always wondered where you lived," Harriet said shyly. She blushed lightly and looked down. "I always saw you walking around campus last year, and I thought you looked so put together and trendy. You looked so cool. I was nervous to meet you today. I thought that there was no way a girl like that could be nice, but you are."

Emma put her hand on her chest, deeply flattered. "How sweet," she murmured. She made her decision in a moment. She would cancel her other interviews. She no longer cared about the other applicants. Harriet was obviously the best candidate. She took a breath and spread her arms out wide, encompassing the room. "The apartment is yours, if you don't mind sharing it with me," Emma joked.

Harriet looked up in surprise. "Really? But we haven't talked about costs. I really don't know if I can afford…I can only pay so much…"

Harriet stammered the amount that she could pay. Her offer for rent was much below the actual costs, but Emma waved her off, unconcerned. Money was not an issue. Her father would take care of it. Harriet looked dumbstruck, but Emma was filled with glee. She loved the fact that she could help Harriet. She was such a darling girl; she deserved the apartment.

Harriet broke out into a shy, dimpled smile, still blinking away her surprise. "Wow. When can I move in?"