Be the Girl(34)

She slides her glasses off to regard me. “I’m glad you told me too, hon.”

With each step I take across our lawn and toward the Hartford driveway, where Emmett half leans, half sits against his trunk, his head bowed, my nervousness grows.

“Hey.” I hug my body against the evening chill, wishing I’d grabbed a sweater. “How was practice?”

“Shit.” He chuckles darkly. “Coach yelled at me to get my head into it. Actually, I had skating sessions with a bunch of seven-and eight-year-olds first and then a late practice. It’s been a long night.”

Uncomfortable silence lingers.

“So, about that video …” He shifts to the far side of his trunk, making room for me.

I move in to settle next to him, inhaling his familiar, intoxicating scent. “Like I said before, I only did it because she was talking about your anniversary. I thought she might list a few things and I didn’t want to forget. I wasn’t sure I should even play it for you.”

He sighs heavily. “I know Cassie can be a lot to handle. I lose my patience with her sometimes. A lot, actually. She’s got all these weird little quirks and things about her and sometimes she seems more like a five-year-old than a fifteen-year-old. There are days that I wish she could be like everyone else.” His throat bobs with a hard swallow. “But then she’d be a different person. She wouldn’t be who she is, and I wouldn’t want that either. And she’s my sister. I just …” He bows his head.

“You don’t have to explain. I didn’t like the way Holly talked about her either, and she’s not my sister. Cassie doesn’t deserve that.” And I mean it, crush on Emmett or not. Cassie spent the entire walk home worrying about whether Holly was okay.

He kicks a loose stone with his shoe, sending it flying. “I broke up with Holly after school.”

I temper my voice to sound sympathetic—the bubble of happiness I’m feeling is wrong, I remind myself. “Yeah, we saw you guys in the parking lot. It didn’t look great.”

“She didn’t take it well. Drained my phone battery with all her texts tonight, apologizing over and over again. I haven’t responded yet.”

A dark, unwanted thought stirs in me. “Do you think you can forgive her?” What if he takes her back?

“She says she didn’t mean it, but that’s bullshit. And even if she’s sorry about it, she still said it. And now I know the kinds of things she’s thinking while she’s smiling and pretending to be sweet. I can’t trust her.” He shakes his head. “You should have seen the look on her face when I played that recording.”

My stomach clenches. “You didn’t tell her where you got it, did you?”

“No, don’t worry. She asked, but she doesn’t need to know.”

I sigh with relief. “Good. I don’t need a rumor floating around that I hide in bathroom stalls and record people’s conversations.”

“When did it happen anyway?”

“Last Friday. I didn’t know what to do. But then I figured you’d want to know.”

He chews his bottom lip. “So that’s why you were acting so weird.” And then he cringes. “Not weird. Tense. You’re not weird. Ignore what she said. And I didn’t invite you out to Zach’s because I felt sorry for you.”

I shrug, even as my cheeks heat. Thank God for the dark of night.

Do you think she has a thing for him?

Oh, for sure she does.

What does he think about that part? Does the idea that it could be true bother him?

“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get that necklace with the hockey stick charm.”

“I guess not.” I’d wear it with pride.

He laughs, but it’s not his usual laugh; it’s a hollow sound. “I should get inside. I have a ton of homework to do and right now I just want to sleep.” The car lifts as he stands. “By the way, I’m going to drop out of cross-country.”

“Really?” My disappointment swells.

“I’ve got too much going on this year and I don’t need to deal with seeing Holly any more than I have to. It’s bad enough we have a class together. It’s too late to switch out or I would.”

Thank God for that.

He hoists the enormous hockey bag over his shoulder. “I’ll still run with you on the mornings that you’re not at practice, though. If you want. I need the exercise.”

My eyes skim over his honed body and I struggle to not laugh. “Yeah, that’d be great. I hate running alone,” I lie.

“’Kay. See you tomorrow?”

“Seven a.m.” I feel my body lighten. Emmett isn’t angry with me. All is right in the world.

“And Aria?” He’s walking backward toward the house. He hasn’t called me by my real name in forever. “Thanks. You could have deleted that and ignored it, instead of telling me.”

I shrug. “Cassie deserves better than that.” I hesitate. “And so do you.”

I catch a hint of those dimples with his soft smile. “’Night.”





11





I’m already halfway through my warm-up when Emmett emerges the next morning. I yank one earbud out so I can hear him.