Be the Girl(52)

“Here.” Emmett reaches for the bag, his fingers grazing mine as he holds it open for me.

My heart stutters. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He peers at me from behind a fringe of long, dark lashes, the look unreadable. “So, I heard it’s your birthday this Sunday.”

“Yeah.” I feel my face reddening. Why am I embarrassed? “Whatever. It’s no big deal.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Eat turkey at your house?”

He rolls his eyes. “A food coma for your sixteenth birthday, with your neighbors. That’s awesome.” The sarcasm in his voice tells me it’s not.

“Well, I don’t know.” I hesitate. “Do you have something in mind?” I reach for my backpack to chuck it into my locker. But he doesn’t let go immediately, and my fingers linger against his, amping up my adrenaline.

“Maybe. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I quickly add, “as long as there aren’t clowns or face-lickers involved.”

He smirks. “I’ll promise no clowns.”

Oh my God. What is that supposed to mean?

A streak of blonde catches the corner of my eye and I glance toward it.

To meet Holly’s blue eyes, flaring with rage and accusation as she sizes us up.

I know what this must look like.

I wish it was what it looked like.

“Wow. Didn’t waste time, did you?”

Is she talking to me or Emmett?

She sneers at me, at my jeans and faux baseball shirt. “And with a major downgrade, too.”

Definitely Emmett.

“This isn’t what it—” Emmett begins to say, but Holly spins on her heels and marches into class, past McNair, who mutters something about teenage hormones under her breath and then taps her watch in silent warning.

He shakes his head. “Just ignore her.”

I’d love to. I really would.

I trail him into class and settle at our usual desk just as the second bell goes. It’s ironic that given the freedom to sit anywhere, everyone subconsciously falls into a routine.

“Good morning! I hope you all had a wonderful weekend and are ready to learn,” Mr. Keen says over the PA system, his voice crackling with static.

I did have a wonderful weekend. Now, though, Holly’s harsh slight is going to hang over my head. Maybe I should start making more effort with what I wear to school. I’ve always liked this shirt, though.

I feel Emmett’s eyes fixed on my profile and I turn to offer him a reassuring smile—to pretend that I don’t care what Holly thinks—before returning my attention to the front of the classroom where McNair is jotting down notes on the blackboard.

“At last Friday’s cross-country mini-meet at Baylor Oaks, three of our team members placed …”

Mr. Keen’s voice disappears as Emmett leans over to whisper in my ear, so close that his bottom lip grazes my earlobe. “By the way, you are definitely not a downgrade, in any meaning of the word.”

My heart pounds in my chest.

I walk out of class an hour later, having missed every word that McNair said.

I didn’t even take notes.





Dear Julia,

Things between Emmett and me have been weird since last Friday. Tense. Even though he basically told me he wants to be just friends, I’m starting to wonder if that’s really the case? Or is that my delusional, wishful thinking? Am I setting myself up for crushing heartbreak?

McNair used the old “elephant in the room” saying during class today, and now that’s all I can think about. There’s this giant elephant standing between Emmett and me. It’s looking at us with its hooded eyes and it’s waving its long trunk. Emmett sees the elephant. I see the elephant. We’re both pretending that we don’t see the elephant.

The elephant wants peanuts.

Sooner or later, someone’s going to have to feed it. Should I be the one to take that risk? I’m not brave like that, Julia. I wish I was that girl.

If I were, maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here, writing to you.

~AJ





I lift my hand to knock when the door suddenly flies open.

“Aria!” Heather exclaims, startled. She’s wearing a navy wool jacket. “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight. Not that it isn’t great.” She steps back to allow me entry.

“Yeah, Emmett texted to see if I had time to work on our project. I figured I’d better take it.” As usual, the Hartford house smells mouthwatering. This time it’s the lingering scent of roast beef and rosemary.

She shakes her head in a knowing way as she grabs her purse and keys from the hook. “His schedule is impossible to plan around, isn’t it? Cassie, come on! Let’s go!”

A moment later, Cassie rounds the corner, her jacket dangling from her fingers. “Oh, hi, AJ!” She grins. “Are you coming with us?”

“No. She and Emmett are studying. Get your coat on and let’s go. We’re already late for swimming!”

“Okay, okay!” Cassie shoves her arms into her sleeves, scowling with annoyance at her mother, who merely sighs. “Emmett, Aria’s here! We’ll be back in an hour. Dad’s in his office on a call with the Vancouver office.”