Bullied Holidays Ch 01

Hey everyone celebrate Thanksgiving two weeks late! I'm praying I can get the next to chapters out before the end of the year.

"Ryan, we definitely killed it in there, right?" Emma asked, grinning madly.

"Fuck yeah we did," Ryan replied

As soon as they left Framewick's conference room, she and Ryan lost their composure. They had flown in from Chicago and spent the last couple of days in Downtown L.A, prepping for this meeting. The word 'cloud optimization' had been seared in Emma's brain. Now it was over and she could enjoy some time off.

"You were awesome in there -- great call about pushing virtual servers."

Emma smiled. She knew Ryan had asked senior management about her specifically to join him in California. As a junior cloud analyst at Aegis One, she didn't get noticed that much compared to her male colleagues. Ryan, a young executive, needed support on a small project during the week leading up to Fourth of July. Emma being the only one around helped him and from there he would come directly to her.

"Yeah, I thought Paula was about to start dancing when she saw the drop in overheads." Emma then glanced at her watch; it had just gone past noon. She looked up and asked, "So, what's next?"

"We get drunk. The lawyers do their part. Then bonuses." Ryan grinned.

They walked through Framewick's mazy corridors, ending at the elevators near the receptionist's desk.

Emma looked at her watch again. "So, what time's your flight back?" She then asked.

"I'm going to stick around," Ryan replied, distracted. Paula's cute associate, a young blonde with a pixie hair cut walked past and gave him a smirk.

When she turned down the corridor and disappeared, Ryan looked back at Emma and said, "You should stick around too. Enjoy the weather."

Emma rolled her eyes but then smirked. "I can't... I got my flight in a couple of hours."

"Come on, you can rearrange it for Wednesday. We can have some drinks. There's some clubs I know you're going to love. We do need to celebrate."

"I really want to be home for Thanksgiving."

"It's Monday. Maybe we can meet some girls. You can forget about what's-her-name."

Emma shook her head. It was too early for her to be thinking about casual sex. That's what she was telling herself. Emma knew she still wanted to keep Lisa and the fantasy in the background of her mind. She couldn't lose that through a Tinder hookup.

"Wow. I don't really want to subscribe to your casual sex Thanksgiving. For me it's helping my mom with making pies. Getting up early to watch the parade. Then board games."

Ryan huffed. "That sounds really Norman Rockwell. You're drunk for most of it, right?"

Emma's mouth dropped. "God no."

"Come to my house for the holidays, you'd need to be." Ryan smirked.

"Really?"

"You got my mom yelling at my sister for nearly punching my aunt who is deadnaming my cousin. My other aunt is in the corner, making snide comments because we won't go to her house for Thanksgiving. My dad is completely drunk for the whole thing. And my uncle likes to bring younger and younger women who sell crystals. He hates all the New Age shit but loves the sex. For me to ride this dysfunctional wave is to come in late, get high as fuck, and say nothing."

The elevator doors opened and Emma walked in. She turned and said, "I'm sorry you have a... Thanksgiving of the Bear, but I do like mine and I really want to be home early."

"Don't worry, when everyone starts throwing forks, I get out of there and get super drunk with my sister and my cousin."

The elevator was beginning to close but Ryan stopped it. "But seriously, you saved my ass. I'm going to talk to Bill and get rid of that stupid 'Junior' title."

"Thanks," Emma said, blushing.

"Hope you enjoy the holidays."

"You too." Emma replied.

Just as the door closed, she saw the cute associate walk past and Ryan immediately followed.

***

Emma checked the bathroom, then the closet and finally around the bed. If she left something behind in the hotel room, like some jewelry or a charger, she would obsess over it for the next few days. Closing her suitcase, Emma observed the room. Clean.

She grabbed her phone and saw she missed a couple of messages. One was from her mom, asking what time she was landing in Chicago. 'Early morning,' Emma wrote her back, saying that she would land in O'Hara just after midnight, take an Uber home, sleep for a while, then drive to Woodstock. She added that she couldn't wait.

There was also a message from Ryan. He was in a bar, two blocks from the hotel. The cute associate was with him and so was Paula. Also, someone from Woodstock. He told her to come. Repeating that it was only two blocks away.

Emma sighed. She knew she had time for one drink. Also, she should go and get more face time with a major client. For the last couple of weeks, Ryan had been hammering one point, networking.

Sighing, Emma replied back, saying she would be there in ten.

Fifteen minutes later, Emma found Ryan getting another round of drinks. He was still wearing his light blue suit. She guessed he and the others went straight to the bar from Framewick's headquarters. He beamed when he saw her walk in, ordering her a violet gin cocktail. She didn't know how Ryan knew that was her favorite, maybe he was just good like that.

"Thanks," Emma said after he handed her the glass. "So, who's this fellow Woodstock... person?"

"I love it when you use language. Actually, she said she went to high school with you. She knows Molly from college."

"Really?"

Emma's breath caught and she froze. In the booth, Quinn Polinski sat between Paula and Molly. They didn't just go to high school together, but also to middle school too. And through most of that, Quinn made Emma's life a living hell. It started small, just teasing about her name, making fun of her clothes, or just ignoring her. But that was all before Emma came out and then it got really bad.

Emma wanted to run away, but seeing everyone look at her, she sat down. One drink, that's all she needed to get through. She would finish, take a cab to the airport, and email her therapist on the way, feeling like she needed a longer session than normal.

Tightening her face, Emma said, "Hi Quinn. It's good to see you...again."

She hadn't changed since high school. Still unbelievably striking. Quinn possessed captivating piercing blue eyes, flowing dark blonde hair, and an oval face with a well-defined jawline. She was dressed professionally, wearing a beige blazer and a black low-cut top.

Quinn smiled. "It's great to see you again!"

She sounded so warm and welcoming. Emma's eyes widened. The last time she saw Quinn, it was graduation and Emma had been given her diploma. Just walking back, she could see Quinn with this seething rage. This had to be an act.

She turned and looked at the table, telling them all that they went to high school together.

Paula smiled, saying that's nice. "Were you close friends?"

"No," Emma replied, her voice barely a whisper. She took a big swig of gin and fixed another smile.

"We weren't really friends," Quinn added, smiling at Emma. "But we kinda knew each other. We went to the same middle school and high school."

Fuck that smile.

Paula stood up to take a call and Ryan was focused on Molly, his arm leaning across the booth. She was giggling at his stories. Emma was trapped with Quinn. Her chest tightened, and her palms were getting sweaty. She needed to get out.

Emma said sorry and rushed to the restroom. Yes! It was empty. She gripped the edges of the sink, staring at her reflection. Her heart pounded. She needed to control that first. Emma loudly breathed in and out, closing her eyes, waiting to calm down.

She glanced at the white porcelain sink, the paper towel dispenser on the wall, the wooden door of the bathroom stall, the glass vase filled with flowers on the counter, and a print of Marilyn Monroe. She groaned, feeling the cold, smooth sink under her hands, the soft fabric of her dress brushing against her legs, the strands of her red hair tickling her cheeks, and the solid floor beneath her feet.

Emma closed her eyes again. Hearing the hum of the ventilation fan, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, and muffled laughter outside. She sniffed, detecting the floral scent from the flowers and the orangey chemical smell of the soap. Opening her eyes, Emma rolled her tongue around her mouth, still tasting the violet gin.

She felt calm now.

But still Emma didn't want to see Quinn anymore. She messaged Ryan, saying the hotel called her and that she had left her driver's license. It was an obvious lie and maybe he might just accept it, but Emma knew she had to get out.

Straightening her hair, she snuck out of the bar.

***

Emma covered her mouth, stifling a moan at the horde of frustrated flyers. Kids were screaming, overworked ticket agents were yelling at each other and drunk men in expensive suits lying down for a nap. She collared a drained Delta worker and found that a massive snowstorm had hit Chicago, taking out most of Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana, and Michigan from air travel.

She was told to wait and that's what she did.

After calling home, Emma pulled out her laptop and do some work. She responded to a few emails and Slack messages, then looked at some code. But it wasn't enough. She was supposed to be in holiday mode and with every task on screen, Emma knew she could deal with it next week. Putting away her laptop, she listened to a couple of episodes of Drifting Off with Joe Pera.

But nothing happened. She was back in high school, opening her locker and seeing a note, calling her a disgusting dyke. Emma tried to rise above it at first, but Quinn made another move. She would demand that Emma couldn't be in the locker room at the same time, saying her hormones would take over. And when she would see Emma in the hall, Quinn would call her every slur that she could think of. There some that Emma swore were made up.

Shit, she needed a drink.

Three gins and two hours later, they finally called Emma's flight. Dragging her carryon, she looked at the other passengers. There was something off. They didn't look confident about arriving in Chicago. She overheard a couple in front, wondering out loud if they were even going get as far as Omaha or even Denver.

A cute flight attendant took her boarding pass and wrote a different seat number on it. Emma and her exchanged smiles. It had been around a month since she broke up with Lisa. They'd met for through an app and at the first date, Lisa walked in, dressed for sex, a skimpy black dress that showed an insane amount of cleavage. She took Emma back to her condo that night. That began six months of great sex and absolute bliss. Lisa then dropped a bomb, she was getting back with her ex.

"12A?" Emma repeated, checking the seats.

"Emma?"

Covering her mouth, Emma went stiff. Quinn was looking up at her, smiling as usual. She had the middle seat. There was a guy asleep in the window seat. Not caring if she was being obvious, Emma looked around. The plane was quickly filling up, and empty spaces were sparse.

"It's such a weird coincidence. We haven't seen each other in ten years and now we're here again."

"Yeah..." Emma replied, slowly sitting down.

"You left so quickly at the bar; we didn't get a chance to catch up."

"Yeah... I forgot...uhm something at the hotel. Then I had to rush here."

"Shouldn't have bothered," Quinn smiled, "The whole Midwest is a no-go zone. Anyway, are you flying home for Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah."

"Sweet. Ryan said you live in Chicago?"

"Yeah."

"Same as me. What are you doing in L.A?"

"I was erm... helping Ryan close a deal."

"Nice. I was also here on business," Quinn said, not waiting to be asked. "I work in PR."

She shared details about her life, saying her life after high school had been wild. Ended up at UT. Did the whole sorority thing. Studied communications and landed a job in PR. Quinn said she had been working with a lot of big clients, travelling around the country, and living her best life.

Emma nodded back at her, gritting her teeth. She wanted Quinn to be lying or omitting an embarrassing secret. Everything she had done to her, the horrors of high school, and she gets away with it? Emma tightened her grip on the armrest, her brain writing another note to herself, she would a double session with her therapist.

"So, what about you?"

"I err went to Vanderbilt University to study Computer Science. I've been working as a cloud engineer since I graduated." Emma replied, her voice quiet and tone slow.

She glanced to her right, seeing Quinn's beautiful face looking back at her. Shit, did she Quinn is beautiful? She didn't need this. Before she met her new therapist, Emma had hoped Quinn would be fat and ugly -- some karmic retribution. But no. She then glanced at her work phone. She quickly said that she needed to reply to emails, not going into any specificity.

Quinn smiled back. "That's okay."

Pretending to be engrossed in responding to emails, Emma covertly opened Discord. She checked out Quinn, who was staring straight ahead and listening to music. Emma checked out a couple of servers, but had to stop. There was this clicking sound. It went away, and Emma replied to some posts. But she stopped again, hearing the sound again. Looking to her right, Quinn was extending her limbs and contorting her body. The sounds of joints clicking and popping echoed over the hum of the engines. Why was she doing that now?

Emma groaned, begging for silence. She put away her phone and feigned sleep. She pushed back on her seat and closed her eyes, letting out a gentle sigh. She hoped that was enough for Quinn. She had slyly checked her watch; it was another three hours.

But the plane started to shake and Emma's eyes snapped open. The fasten-up your seatbelts sign was flashing. She glanced at Quinn; she looked worried. The plane violently shook, the cabin doors crashed open and the flight attendants stumbled up and down the aisles, checking if all the passengers had tightened their seat belts.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We apologize for the turbulence. Due to heavy snow in the Chicago area, we are unable to land at O'Hare International Airport at this time. For safety reasons, I have decided to divert to Denver International Airport to wait out the storm. We expect to be on the ground in Denver shortly. We apologize for this inconvenience. We will provide more information once we have landed in Denver..."

***

Emma messaged her parents the second she got off the plane, telling them what had happened. They immediately called her. She guessed that due to everything she went through high school; her parents had become protective. Sometimes, Emma hated it, often reminding them she is in her late twenties. But tonight, she wasn't too bothered.

"I'm fine, we just got off the plane. They said all the flights to Chicago are grounded due to the storm," Emma explained, repeating her message.

Explaining more and promising that she would keep them updated, Emma ended the call and turned, seeing Quinn walking towards her. God no. She noticed that she was now wearing a light brown wool coat, which Emma could tell was expensive. Why couldn't she just have been stuck in retail?

"Did you reach home?" She asked.

"Yeah. Just my mom and dad. Told them what was happening."

"Oh, how are they doing?"

Emma narrowed her eyes. She ignored the question and asked, "What's happening with the flight?"

"Simple. There's no way on earth we're getting out of here tonight." Quinn replied, chuckling. "We're more likely to get a date with Leo at our age than getting a flight out before daybreak. They say they're grounding the flight, but you know they're going to cancel soon."

"So, you're saying I could be stuck in Denver?

"No, I'm saying that you're stuck in Denver. And while I'd like to have a Denver Omelet in Denver, it's not Chicago."

"Shit."

"Luckily, I got a room at Watkins Farm Inn."

"Good for you." Emma groaned.

"I got an idea; you can come with me and I will make sure you get a room."

Sighing, Emma looked past Quinn, there were counters for Super 8 and Days Inn, crowded with people. Other passengers were randomly calling local motels, begging for rooms. Then there were a couple of guys camping out on the seats.

Her body went limp, she had no choice. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, sure. Great."

***

Emma stood behind Quinn in the dimly lit motel. She glanced at the worn carpet and the flickering neon sign outside. She couldn't believe that Quinn would pick such a place. Back in high school, she was always showing off every new thing, iPhone, a purse, or a car. In the weeks leading up to their senior prom, Quinn was parading her new Jimmy Choos, bathing in the envy.

"Hi... Tim," Quinn said, approaching the young clerk, flashing a warm smile. "I think I was speaking to you over the phone. Quinn?"

The tired teenager softly nodded.

"It was so lovely talking to you. Can you help us and get us a room?" She batted her eyelashes at him, her voice taking a honeyed tone.

Emma groaned and looked away. It was just like high school. Quinn would effortlessly manipulate people to get her way. She did it with Emma's lab partner, getting him to do all her work the whole semester.

"There were some no-shows... due to the weather. But we're not allowed to..."

"Tim. Tim. Tim." Quinn leaned forward and did the praying hands motion. "You can be our superhero and protect us from the cold. We were supposed to be flying to Chicago but the snow has landed us here. We don't have anywhere else to go."

"Okay..." The clerk's voice croaked. "Let me see what I can do." He clicked on his computer for a couple of moments and then rested a keycard on the counter. "Here you go -- the last room in the complex."

"Fuck." Emma whispered, closing her eyes.

Upstairs, Tim led them to room 409. He opened the door and gave a brief rundown. There was no WIFI, the TV didn't work and the shower could run out of hot water. Emma didn't mind, or even listen. Instead, she stared at the lone bed.

She waited for Quinn to freak out. After everything she did during high school, there was no way Quinn Polinski was ever going to share a bed with a dyke like her. She was going to scream at Tim, demand that the poor guy find her another room. Quinn may try to act like she had changed, but it was only surface level.

"Thank you, Tim," Quinn said, slipping the kid a twenty, "Have a good night."

Emma watched Quinn drop her bag and walk around the room. She was acting cool. Ignoring the bed to turn on the lamps. Maybe she would be generous and give Emma a pillow to use. Or she would just tell her to sleep in one of the chairs.

"Guess we have to share. Do you mind if I take a shower first?" Quinn asked, "Emma?"

"What?"

"Shower? Or do you want to take one first?"

Emma shook her head and replied, "No. No. You can go ahead."

Emma let the water run for a while, watching the door. There was no lock and that nearly gave her another panic attack. There was one time she was showering after gym class, way after everyone else had left because she didn't want the girls think she was perving on them. She was running her hands through her hair, when she started coughing. Opening her eyes, Emma found herself covered in rainbow glitter. She could hear Quinn and her friends laughing as they ran away.

After five or ten minutes of waiting, Emma jumped into the shower and quickly washed herself. Looking around to see if anything had changed, she then dried off and walked out of the bathroom. Was Quinn planning something? No, she was lying on the queen bed, wearing a tight black tank-top and shorts, scrolling through her phone. That was a relief.