Be the Girl(19)

“Yeah. It’s the move,” I lie. “And she has a lot more time on her hands to worry right now. I’m sure it’ll change when she goes back to work. So how far away is Zach’s house?” The street has led us out of town, where there are no street lights save for side road markers. I haven’t ventured out this way yet.

“About ten minutes out.”

“Who’s going to be there?”

“Mostly guys from hockey.”

“So does this Zach guy play with you?”

“Not anymore. We used to, but he wouldn’t make my team now. He plays on the school team. You’ve seen him with me. He’s the blond guy I hang out with.”

I frown in thought. “I don’t think so?” Though, I don’t pay much attention to anyone else when Emmett’s there.

“He’s seen you, that’s for sure.”

A nervous twinge stirs in my stomach. “What does that mean?”

Emmett smiles, showing off that deep dimple. “Let’s just say he’s happy I’m bringing my cute new neighbor tonight.”

I look out my window at the dark fields as my face burns with Emmett’s words. Is he simply relaying what his friend has said about me? Or echoing his own thoughts?

An awkward silence ensues.

Emmett dials the music up a notch. “It’ll be fun. Holly and a few of her friends will be there, so you can get to know them, too.”

Disappointment flares at the reminder that yes, Emmett has a girlfriend and yes, of course she’s going to be there. “How long have you guys been together?” I ask casually, though I already know the answer. I’m more curious about how he’ll answer it—does he like talking about his girlfriend? Or is he like other guys I’ve known who shrug off the topic?

“Almost a year. If you can find out the exact date for me, I’ll owe you big time, because I forget. I know it was September. She was like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah. The new girl in school.”

“Oh. Right.” New and blonde and beautiful, with that honeyed voice and sweet smile. Not exactly me. “She’s nice,” I offer, because what else do I say?

He smiles softly. “Holly’s great. Cassie introduced us. I can’t remember how they met but the next thing I knew, we were at the fall fair together.” He snaps his fingers. “That’s when we hooked up. It was the last weekend of September, but I can’t remember if it was the Friday or the Saturday.”

“You have a few weeks to figure it out.”

“Yeah.” He pauses. “What are you supposed to get your girlfriend for your one-year anniversary, anyway?”

“I have no idea.” I’ve only had two boyfriends, for a total of four weeks of “dating” experience. The first one treated me to a McDonald’s burger, the other one got me high on weed. My guess is Holly wouldn’t go for either of those gift ideas. “Jewelry, maybe? Like a charm bracelet or necklace?” That’s what my friend Denise got from her boyfriend Dennis—worst name match ever—after they’d been going out for six months.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Emmett bites his bottom lip in thought. “Like a little hockey puck or stick or something, to remind her of me.”

I laugh. “Wow. You really like hockey.”

His deep, shiver-inducing chuckle fills the car.





“Farmer … what’s up!”

“Harty!” The tall blond guy who opened the front door claps hands with Emmett, then backs up to allow us into the impressive two-story brick house, surrounded by corn and hay fields. Apparently Zach’s family owns, like, half the land around the outskirts of town. Some they’ve sold off to developers—and made a killing—while other plots are actively farmed.

Hence Zach’s nickname.

His blue eyes lands on me, a twinkle of curiosity in it. “AJ, right?”

“Aria. But sure. Hey.” I do recognize him from the hallways. He’s hot—with a square jaw and playful grin, and pretty eyes framed by long lashes. He’s the same height as Emmett and solid, though not nearly as fit. If not for my instant infatuation with Emmett, I’d probably be crushing on him.

“I’m Zach.”

“I figured that out.” I blush as I recall Emmett’s cute-neighbor comment on the way here.

He holds up a bottle of beer. “Want one?”

“I’m good for now, thanks.” My eyes flash to Emmett—he shrugs and tugs a can of Coke from the six-pack he brought with him. I guess he didn’t lie to my mom. He’s not drinking.

Where are Zach’s parents, anyway?

Kicking the door shut with his heel, Zach leads us toward the back of the house with a leisurely stroll, the hum of music and laughter growing louder. “Did you hear that Gibby broke his leg?” he says to Emmett.

“Yeah. In like three places. He’s out for most of the year. Sucks bad.”

I tune out what I assume is hockey talk as we step into a double-story living room, my eyes furtively scanning the group of twenty or so teenagers. Most are faces I could pick out of the hallways at school.

Including Holly.

She’s sitting on the far end of the couch, sandwiched between the girl she lunches with and another pretty blonde. The second her eyes land on Emmett, she’s off the couch and skipping over, wasting no time wrapping her arms around his waist, molding her body to his.