Be the Girl(17)

The front door creaks open as I’m heaping a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto my plate.

My heart skips a beat and then thumps in my chest, my attention locking on the Hartfords’ dining room threshold.

Waiting.

“Dining room, now!” Mark calls over his shoulder.

Heavy footfalls sound along the hallway and then Emmett appears, his hair still damp from a shower.

Nervous flutters stir in my stomach.

Mark gives his son a scolding look. “You’re late.”

“Coach wanted to have a team meeting after practice to go over a few things before tomorrow’s game.”

“If only there was some way you could communicate that to us.”

“He could text,” Cassie says, not picking up on the sarcasm in her father’s tone.

Mark snaps his fingers. “You’re right, Cassie! He could text. If only he had a phone—”

“All right. I’m sorry,” Emmett mumbles, sliding into the empty chair beside Uncle Merv, across from me. “Hey, Merv. How’s it going?”

“Still alive.” His clouded eyes are focused on his dinner, clearly more interested in eating than carrying on a conversation. He likely won’t utter a single word through the meal.

Emmett smirks, unfazed by the old man’s response. I’m sure he’s used to that acerbic personality. And then his beautiful brown eyes shift to me. “Hey.”

“Hi.” I’m staring, I realize, and so I duck my head, refocusing on my plate.

“So, Emmett says you guys have a class together, Aria?” Heather spoons a few carrots onto Cassie’s plate.

“That’s enough,” Cassie declares, blocking the air above her plate with her hand.

She gets a warning look and two more spoonfuls in return, which earns a scowl at her plate.

“Social studies. Yeah.”

“And they’ll be on the cross-country team together soon, too. Right?” My mom looks at me expectantly.

“You’re joining the team?” Emmett slaps a heaping serving spoon’s worth of mashed potatoes next to the two large cutlets he grabbed. Is it just my wishful thinking or did I catch a hint of excitement in his tone?

“If I can get my time up before then.” If my run last night after dinner is any indication, I won’t be joining.

“I jog through Miller’s Park on the off-mornings. It’s not far from here. It’s hilly but it’s good training ground. You can come with me, if you want?”

Me, run with Emmett? Just the two of us? A thrill races through my chest. “Yeah. For sure.”

“I want to come!” Cassie exclaims.

“You want to run three kilometers at seven in the morning, Cassie?” he says doubtfully.

“Yes!” She nods in emphasis.

“All the way around the pond, without stopping?”

She seems to consider that a moment. “No. Maybe not,” she agrees.

He smirks. “AJ’s gotta try to keep up with me.”

“Don’t be surprised if she gives you a good challenge,” my mom chirps, and then takes a sip of wine. “She placed second in provincials.”

“That was two years ago,” I remind her quietly, my cheeks flushing.

“So! I’m still allowed to brag.”

I bite my tongue against the urge to remind her that she’s never even been to a race. We’re both starting over, fresh.

“I wish I had a tenth of the energy these kids have.” Heather’s attention shifts between my mom and Cassie, who is gripping her butter knife awkwardly in her fist and sawing away at her meat with little success. Heather’s hands reach out but then pull back, as if wanting to help Cassie but deciding against it.

“We’re watching a movie in the basement, tonight,” Cassie declares. “AJ, do you want to watch with us?” She nods, as if coaxing me into saying yes, her eyebrows arched with hope.

“Zach’s having people over. You should come with me,” Emmett throws out, taking a gulp of his milk. “You can meet a few people from school.”

Did Emmett just invite me to a party?

“Are his parents going to be home?” Heather asks.

“Of course,” Emmett says with his focus on his plate, in a way that doesn’t sound at all convincing—at least not to me.

“I don’t know …” my mom begins, wariness in her voice.

“I want to go to Zach’s, too!” Cassie bursts. “Can I go?”

Heather spears Emmett with a knowing glare.

He sighs heavily. “It’s mostly the hockey team, plus the music will be too loud. You wouldn’t have fun there.”

“Yes, I would!” She insists with a determined set of her jaw. “Zach’s my friend, too!”

Is he, though? Cassie calls everyone her friend.

“Hey! What about our night?” Mark jumps in, gesturing between himself and her. “I thought we were going to get banana splits at Dairy Queen?”

Cassie frowns deeply. “I didn’t know that.”

“I can’t believe you forgot. Don’t bail on me, kid.”

Something tells me Cassie wouldn’t forget something like a trip for ice cream. Something also tells me it’s meant as a distraction and a bribe, a treat that Cassie won’t pass up.