by Anna Albo
Dad and I oohh and ahhed.
"She wanted to show me a few antiques," Grandpa said, blushing a little.
"What else did she show you?" Dad asked.
Grandpa pursed his lips. "I've only been out with her a few times."
"When do we get to meet her?" I asked. "What if we don't approve?"
"We'll see when you come back for Thanksgiving."
"What's her name?"
"Wendy."
"What did she do before she retired?"
"She was a lawyer."
More oohing and ahhing from the peanut gallery.
"And now we are changing the subject," Grandpa declared. "How about you, little lady? Any boys from the big city sweep you off your feet?"
"I don't have time for boys."
Grandpa let out a snort. "Your dad here and Ron thought you and Jake were shacking up in more ways than one."
"I heard."
"You can do better than Jake."
"Dad! Jake's a good kid."
Grandpa shook his head. "Don't like him all that much. The boy's always chasing big dreams."
And Grandpa didn't even know Bianca.
"Don't say that stuff around Ron."
"You think Ron doesn't already know?"
I looked at Dad and then Grandpa. I was lucky to have two of the coolest guys in the world in my life. Who needed a boyfriend?
"Well, I hate to end this fun early, but I'm beat," I said, taking plates and loading them into the dishwasher. Dad shooed me away when I tried to take away the rest.
"Goodnight, Kiddo," Dad said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
I went up to my room and climbed into bed. Sure, it wasn't even eight-thirty, but the day had been a long one. I drifted off to sleep while reading my psych textbook. It felt like only minutes passed when my phone trilled and woke me. I pawed for it on the nightstand. I glanced at my alarm clock and was surprised to see it was after midnight. I couldn't imagine Jake had anything else to say to me, except that it wasn't Jake.
Zach: How you doing? Went by Julian's tonight and you weren't there. No éclairs either.
Me: Sorry. Back home this weekend. Making éclairs Monday.
Zach: Did you tell your Dad what happened?
Me: No. Don't want to upset him.
Zach: Wimp. Lol! Have a nice weekend. See you Monday. Save me an éclair.
Me: Will do.
I turned my phone off and smiled.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZACH
I met some of the guys at Fixx, a new club that had opened near campus. The place was packed, but we knew the bouncer and he let us skip the line. I grabbed a beer, fully intending it to be my only one. I had to be home early in the morning for our annual Christmas card photo session, complete with fake snow and Christmas decorations galore. If I looked remotely hungover, Mom would kill me.
"This place is nuts," Brett said.
"Yup," I said, glancing at my phone. Three texts from Becca wanting to talk, then changing her mind, then wanting to talk again and another from a girl in my Terror and Espionage class. I deleted Becca's texts and replied to the girl from class. What was her name again? Jennifer? Carla? I couldn't remember and her text came up as only a number. I only knew it was the girl from T&E because of some of the earlier messages in the chain.
"You here with me, or with your phone?" Brett asked, staring at my cell with contempt.
"You're just jealous cuz all the girls love me," I said, punching him in the arm.
"Fuck off."
We got our beers and then Brett and I headed for a less crowded corner while the other guys stayed near the bar. Brett chatted up a cute brunette, but by the disinterested look on her face, I knew he was wasting his time. I took the opportunity to sneak another glance at my phone. Terror-and-Espionage girl had texted again. Wanted to know if I'd study with her and go for coffee after that. She was cute, but not my type. I texted back that I'd let her know.
"Well, look who it is."
I looked up from my phone. Bianca. I'd managed to avoid her for the weeks since the incident at Brett's cabin. A huge smile spread across her face as she batted her eyelashes a few times. I was easily six inches taller than her and she had to crane her neck to stare up at me.
"Hey," I muttered.
"I haven't seen you around campus. Hiding or something?"
"I guess we don't cross paths."
She smirked. "So I hear you were the one who gave Emma a ride home from Brett's." She said Emma's name like it repulsed her.
"Yup."
"You know she's a loser, right? Totally freaking weird. Jake says you've been nice to her, and I thought you should know what kind of person she is."
I shifted my feet and stared over her head and focused on the dance floor. I didn't want to give her the impression that I found her interesting. "And what kind of person is she?" I sounded bored. Mission accomplished.
"She's in love with Jake and wants to break us up. She's always trying to get between us. And she's super strange. She's into something like witchcraft or whatever. Everyone stays away from her. She has no friends. Zero. Nada. Nothing. You should stay away from her too."
"Why?" I asked. I should have shut down the conversation, but I was curious what more she'd fabricate.
"I heard you had a soft spot for her. I don't think your parents want you mixed up with someone so ... questionable."
Fucking Brett. "The only questionable thing here is your story."
Bianca's mouth gaped open for a second. I took a sip of my beer.
"You like her, don't you?" Bianca said with a sneer. Not a good look for her.
"I think she's a normal and nice human being. I can't say the same thing about all the people I know."
"OMG! You do like her!"
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "So what if I like her? What is the big deal? Am I not allowed to be friendly to her? Do you make the rules?"
"You're a fucking idiot, you know that! People like her can screw up your dad's re-election."
"Thanks for the valuable insight."
"I'm trying to help you."
I'd had enough of her shit. I stared her down, planting myself in front of her. "I don't need your help. Last time I checked, it's you who needs me."
She knew exactly what I meant. She retreated and her shoulders dropped. "Is that what I get for giving you a heads-up?"
"Yeah, so leave me alone. Leave Emma alone too."
She stomped off and I was glad to be rid of her. I turned to Brett who'd been dismissed by the brunette. He was scanning the crowd for his next victim.
"What'd you tell Bianca?" I asked him.
"About what?"
"About Emma."
Brett thought about the question and shrugged. "Who's Emma?"
"Emma from the cabin. I took her home. Remember? How many times do I have to remind you who she is?"
"Oh yeah, the weird one. Nothing." He paused. "Oh wait, I told her you were texting her."
"Why'd you do that?"
"She came up in conversation. Something about Bianca going around to her job and giving her a hard time."
"Wait, what? Going to her job?" My blood pressure was rising. I could literally feel it ticking up by the second.
"She and Becca went by the place she works and gave her a hard time or something." Brett looked at me and the smile on his face vanished.
"You're an asshole, you know that, right?"
"Hey, it was sort of funny."
"What was funny about it?"
"Why are you getting so bent out of shape?"
"Because she didn't do anything to you, to Bianca or to whoever else was there."
"Jake laughed, too, and he's her friend."
"Then that makes you all assholes." I gulped back the last of my beer and slammed the bottle down on the bar. "I'm out of here. I'll walk home."
THE BRIGHT SPOT OF my night out with the guys was that I was home early and up looking fresh and bright-eyed when the en
tourage arrived for our Christmas card photos. Clothes were picked out and after a quick hair and makeup session, I was sitting with Dad on the sofa, waiting for Genie and Mom.
"You're keeping up those grades?" Dad asked.
"I know how important these next two years are. I won't screw it up."
"No more distractions."
"I know."
"We'll talk more about this after breakfast," he said once Mom and Genie appeared.
I would have killed someone for breakfast, but Mom didn't want to look bloated in the pictures. Normally she wasn't vain, but this Christmas card went out to thousands of people and she wanted to look her best. The second I was out of my sweater, slacks, and tie, I'd be chowing down on pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Louisa had promised it all.
For an hour the photographer placed us in various positions while his assistants moved various Christmas decorations around—all decorations I know weren't ours. By the time the last few pictures were snapped, my stomach was growling and Genie was fidgeting.
"How much longer?" she asked. "I'm about to eat one of these Christmas trees."
"We're done," the photographer said.
"About time," she said. "I'll let Louisa know we're ready to eat. Let's meet in the dining room in five minutes."
She rushed out of the room to change and I was close behind. I threw on jeans and a T-shirt and when I got to the dining room, Louisa was putting out plates of apple pancakes, bacon, sausages, eggs, and cubed potatoes. I didn't wait for the rest of my family before I dove in.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, thank you, Louisa."
She touched my shoulder and squeezed it. Louisa had been a part of our family for so long we couldn't survive without her. She kept us fed, watered, and moving in the right directions. And when she finished putting out all the various plates of food, she took her seat next to me. Unlike other the help at other homes, Louisa always ate with us. We'd have it no other way. If it wasn't for Allen, Dad's communications director, laying down his veto, Louisa would have her place in our Christmas photo shoot.
"We should wait for everyone else," Louisa said.
"No way," I said, passing her the plate of pancakes. "You snooze, your food is cold."
Louisa smiled and pinched my cheek the same way she did when I was five. "You're a little devil, aren't you?"
Dad, Mom, and Genie filed in moments apart. Mom had Christmas on the brain and wanted to discuss arrangements for the party that was two months away. She let Louisa in on all the details, often running ideas past her. Dad was busy with the newspaper so Genie fixed her attention on me.
"I need a favor," she said.
"What's that?" I asked, pouring more maple syrup on my pancakes.
"One of Steve's friends is getting married and he's the best man. He wants to throw a big party and I thought you could help."
"Zach has retired from party planning," Dad said.
"What Dad said." I wouldn’t help Steve plan a party if it was the last party I'd ever attend.
"You could give him some ideas."
"I've never thrown a bachelor party so I can't help."
She huffed. "If you got to know him, you might actually like him."
"Doubt it."
"You could at least give me some leads."
Dad lowered his paper. "Genie, your brother has already told you he can't help you. Let's move on."
I tried not to smile. Dad hated Steve as much as I did.
"We'll talk later," she said under her breath.
Not if I had my way.
We finished up breakfast and I hung out with my parents for a bit before heading back to the apartment. I passed Julian's on my way home and thought of Emma, wondering if she was inside. For a split second I considered turning around, but stopped myself. I couldn't hang around Julian's all the time. The girl loved Jake, despite how shitty he’d treated her. I could try to make her see reality, but my gut told me I'd be wasting my time.
But somehow, I didn’t think that was going to stop me from trying.
CHAPTER NINE
EMMA
I didn't have classes until the afternoon, so I spent my morning making éclairs in Julian's kitchen. I finished up, grabbed a coffee, and ate my lunch in an empty booth. I was looking through notes when my phone pinged
Zach: You free at all?
Me: I am until 1pm. Having lunch at work.
Zach: I'm five minutes away. I'll stop in. Save me an éclair.
Little did he know that I’d tucked one away for him at the bottom of the cooler. We'd already sold two dozen of the three dozen I'd made. I'd also baked pecan and butter tarts which were selling briskly.
As promised, Zach showed up five minutes later. He got a coffee and took the empty seat across from me. His éclair was waiting for him.
"I could eat these for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."
"I don't recommend it. You do want to keep your physique, don't you?"
"I guess so. How do you stay in such great shape when you’re surrounded by all this food?"
"Tennis."
"That'll do it."
"So what brings you by?" I asked, closing my books. I cherished the diversion.
"I haven't seen you in a few weeks and thought I'd say hi. How are things? How'd the weekend go with your dad?"
"Great. I cooked up a storm once I discovered that my dad and grandpa have been eating pizza practically every night. The freezer is restocked with tons of healthy meals. And I found out my grandpa has a girlfriend!"
"That's cool."
"How about your weekend?"
"Went to FIXX on Saturday night. I ran into Bianca."
I groaned. "Lucky you."
"I hear she came by and it wasn't a friendly visit."
Every muscle in my body tensed. I'd tried to forget about that. "Yeah, she was here. And no, not very friendly."
"Did you tell Jake?"
"Why? He wouldn't believe me."
Zach smiled and his brown eyes warmed me like hot cocoa. Why did I trust him? Why did I feel like I could tell him anything? What if he was the enemy, infiltrating my life and taking everything I said back to Bianca?
"If I tell you something, will you believe me?"
I leaned back in the booth and crossed my arms over my chest. I'd read somewhere that we did that instinctively to protect ourselves when we felt threatened. "I don't know."
He pushed his coffee to one side and folded his hands on the table. "I thought about this for a long time before I came over here. I know Jake's your friend and I know you’re kind of in love with him, and before you protest," he said in response to my opening mouth and attempted objection, "I think you should hear me out."
"Fine," I muttered.
"I'm not going to bother telling you what she said to me because a lot of it was BS, but I will tell you this. Jake knows she was here, he knows what she did, and whatever it was, he thought it was funny. I know this because one of my buddies was there when Bianca told the story. Emma, Jake's not your friend. I think you should seriously consider getting away from him. He's a first-class asshole. If you need a place to stay, I can help you find one. I know some people you can get in touch with."
He was still talking, but my mind couldn’t move on from what he'd already said. Jake knew? Not possible. And even if he did, he wouldn't have laughed, not after everything that had already happened. Jake learned his lesson and wouldn't do that again.
"Who told you this?" I asked, a chill coming over me. I didn't believe him. My reaction took Zach by surprise. Why would I believe him? Because he said so?
"A friend who was there with Bianca and Jake."
"So you weren't there. You're just going to believe someone who was?"
"He wouldn't lie about it. Emma, why are you pissed at me?"
"I'm trying to figure out why you would do this. Do you think if you sway me that I'll sleep with you or something? That you'll be my hero? Sorry, but I don't want to be another notch on your bed post
."
His eyes grew wide. "What? Are you kidding me?"
He was good at feigning indignation but I wasn't falling for it. "Is this a game to you? Do you think it's funny? Jake is sorry for what he did and I seriously doubt this friend of yours heard him say anything at all. And I thought you were a good guy, but all you're trying to do is drive me and Jake further apart. Well, I'm not falling for it. I'm not that stupid."
"Wow! I don't know what just happened here. I guess I should have kept my mouth shut and let you continue thinking Jake is some saint. Anyway, I'm done with this conversation. One day you're going to realize I'm right, but for now you can go on hoping that one day Jake will see the light. Good luck with that."
He snatched his coffee and left.
I STEWED ALL DAY AND when my last class finished later that afternoon, I took the bus to the Taylor Tennis club. I'd joined a few weeks before, mostly because it was the closest to the apartment. The courts were well kept and the rates affordable.
I changed and was happy to see it was a quiet afternoon. I needed to get out my frustrations and the ball machine and an empty court were the perfect companions. I hit balls for a while before an older woman, probably in her forties, came and stood alongside my court. Was my time up already? She watched me and I got a bit self-conscious. I hit a few more and stopped despite the machine continuing to spit balls at me.
"Are you next?" I called.
"You have another twenty minutes. I was admiring your forehand. And your backhand, for that matter. You're pretty good."
"Thanks. I can quit now if you want the court," I said, trying to catch my breath.
"I was going to hit balls too. If you want, we could rally or play a mini game. I'm not nearly as good as you, but I'm sure you'll be kind to an old goat like me."
The thought of company didn't appeal to me, but playing against someone other than a ball machine was a nice idea. "Sure, why not."
We pushed the ball machine off our court and rallied for a few minutes which turned into more than an hour. Helen, my partner, was pretty good for her age. She had me all over the court, working up a good sweat and feeling refreshed. We probably would have kept playing if it hadn't been for a group of four waiting for our court.
