Sixteen
Brody
I followed Emma’s directions and pulled up to the curb outside one of the apartment buildings in a pretty large complex. It was dark, but you could still see enough to know the buildings were older and run down.
Emma glanced at me and then back out the window, seemingly embarrassed.
“Hey,” I called softly.
She turned back toward me and I caught her chin gently.
“I don’t care where you live. I don’t want you to think because I was raised with money that I’m some kind of snob or something. I’m not,” I assured her, hoping she believed me. “My mother didn’t come from money, even though she’d try and deny it. She was ashamed of where she came from and who her parents were, but we loved them. Growing up Wes and I would beg to go and stay with them whenever we had vacations. S
