Be the Girl(31)

But, if this were any other guy, if I’d overheard this conversation in the bathroom, would I care as much? Probably not. I’d probably tell myself to keep moving. I’m not interested in becoming known like that at Eastmonte. I don’t want to bring attention to myself. Attention breeds whispers and whispers breed rumors, and rumors somehow become facts. Usually ugly and untrue facts that people want to believe.

But Emmett should know who he’s dating. He deserves to know the kinds of things Holly is saying about his sister behind his back. And if he wants to stay with her after that …

Jen said it best—the fantasy will be crushed. And maybe that would be a good thing for me, because pining for a guy I can’t be with is not how I saw myself starting over in this new life.

I respond with “Yup. See You at 8,” and then toss my phone and count my stars.





Morning announcements crackle over the PA system and my stomach curls as I watch Holly skate her fingertip over Emmett’s collar, pausing to tickle the spot where the hickey has finally faded.

“Still not funny,” he warns.

As if sensing my scalding gaze, she peers over her shoulder at me. “Hey, Aria! Ready for the first meet next week?”

“Yup.” I struggle to keep the sharpness from my tone.

Her blue eyes flicker to Jen, to her shirt—a peach-colored, long sleeve with a unicorn wearing a party hat on the front. It’s equal parts hilarious and embarrassing. “I love your shirt, Jennifer. It’s so cute.”

Jen offers a tight smile, as if she can sense the inauthenticity. “Thanks.”

Holly catches her friend Lindsay’s eye and they share a secretive smile. Obviously, the catty conversation I overheard in the bathroom isn’t the first of its kind. And, as much as I agree that Jen’s wardrobe choices are an abomination, that Holly is mocking her makes my anger flare.

“She goes by Jen,” I blurt out. “She doesn’t like being called Jennifer.”

Holly’s mouth gapes open. “Oh my God! Are you serious?” She presses her hand against her chest, over her heart. “I had no idea! I’m so sorry. I feel horrible!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jen murmurs, her cheeks turning red as she glances around us, at the people who can overhear the conversation.

“Okay, everyone!” Ms. McNair calls out, prompting the class to begin.

Holly’s face is a perfect mask of guilt—eyes round, forehead pinched.

Emmett reaches over to smooth an affectionate hand over her back. “It’s okay. It was an honest mistake.”

As McNair begins talking about this past weekend’s reading assignment, Emmett glances over his shoulder to frown at me, shake his head, and mouth, “What was that?” before turning to face front again.

My stomach drops. I’ve managed to make myself look like the jerk in Emmett’s eyes.

That was definitely not my intention.





I trail Emmett and Holly out of first period, my stomach in knots, wishing I’d never corrected her for something so dumb as a name, especially when Jen doesn’t have the nerve to speak up about it.

“Catch you later?” Emmett leans down to kiss Holly, and I duck around them to get to my locker, wishing I could just go home and curl up in bed. It’s going to be an agonizing day of regret and pondering if I—

“What was that about, AJ?” Emmett’s voice behind me startles me so much, I drop my textbook on the floor.

I swallow against the ache in my throat as he reaches down to collect it and hand it to me. “You made Holly feel like crap. And you embarrassed Jen in front of everyone. Why would you do that? I didn’t think you were like that.”

“I’m not! I just …” I peer up into those dark-brown eyes staring down at me, the mix of confusion and disappointment in them unmistakable. That look, I can’t bear. “Holly’s not who you think she is.”

“What?” He frowns and a doubtful smirk curls his lips. “What are you talking about?”

I glance around the hallway. Students shuffle along, teachers linger. “I can’t show you right here. It’s on my phone.”

“Send it to me—”

“No.” I shake my head furtively. My mother would see it. Plus, what if it somehow gets shared? Things like that have a way of getting passed along, and then people will think I sit in bathroom stalls and record students. Tension tightens my shoulders with that thought.

He huffs. “Fine. Follow me.”

My heart pounds as Emmett leads me down the hallway, checking each classroom that we pass. As soon as we come across one without lights on, he tests the door handle to find it unlocked and leads me in, closing the door behind us. “Show me.” His jaw is hard.

My hands are shaking as I pull out my phone and find the video. We only have a few minutes before the second-period bell goes. Luckily, math class is only three doors down. I talk fast as I explain. “I was in the girls’ washroom at lunch, texting my mom, and Holly came in with her friend and they started talking about anniversary gift ideas. So I figured I’d get you some clues. Please don’t tell anyone how you heard this.”

I focus on my shoes, my blood pounding in my ears as Holly’s fake sweet voice and cackle fill the empty, dark classroom, as Emmett hears the words that I’ve all but memorized. Even the embarrassing ones about me. If I had known this was going to happen, I would have edited the video to cut that part out.