“How about I make it up to you?” Nate asked, giving me a winning smile. “I’m having another bonfire tonight. You guys should come.”
“No,” I said, turning a page in my paperback.
“My mom bought the stuff for s’mores,” he sang.
My mouth watered at the promise of warm, gooey chocolate. Then I thought about Shay and all those texts I’d sent, begging for her forgiveness. Everyone deserved a second chance at redemption, even McTurdy. “Okay, maybe. On three conditions.”
“Shoot.”
I put my book down and looked him square in the eye. “One—stop staring at my ass.”
He tore his gaze away from my bikini-clad behind. “I wasn’t,” he lied.
“Two—apologize to Emmett for the way you acted on Tuesday night.”
“Already did. I ran into him yesterday and invited him to come over tonight. He said he would.”
Perfect, I thought. Condition two might help facilitate condition three. “And three—apologize to Harper and convince her to go tonight . . . all by yourself.”
His smile drooped. “How am I supposed to do that? She hates me. I’ll apologize, but it’s you who needs to convince her, Kat. She always listens to you.”
I picked up my book again. “Sorry. Those are the conditions.”
For a moment, the only sound between us was the rhythmic thump of the boat rocking against the side of the dock. Then Nate made a growling noise and said, “Fine. Is she at her cottage?”
“Yeah, she’s probably back from soccer practice by now.”
He pushed against the ladder and reached behind him to the motor. “I’ve always kind of liked her, you know,” he said, his hand pausing on the switch.
“Harper?” I said, shocked. “You like her?” He had a funny way of showing it.
“Since that first summer.” He grinned slyly. “She was, like, this older woman.”
I laughed. “Yeah, a whole year older. Is that why you were acting like such a jerk the other night? Because you were jealous of Emmett?”
“Maybe,” he said as if the thought had never occurred to him.
“How come you’ve never seriously asked her out?”
“Like I said, she hates me.” Nate pulled a cord and the motor sputtered to life, effectively ending our conversation. “See you tonight!” he shouted over the racket, and then he pointed the boat in the direction of Harper’s cottage.
Good luck, I thought, watching him go. Trying to push Harper and Emmett together was challenging enough, and he was a guy she liked. Convincing her to see Nate in a different light would take nothing short of a miracle.
chapter 9
“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Harper asked me as we picked our way along the shoreline.
“Because Nate promised to behave,” I said, hopping over a slimy rock. “And provide s’mores.”
“We could’ve made s’mores in the fire pit in your yard.”
“Right. You think Pop would let me have unlimited access to sugar like that?”
Harper shook her head. “I can’t believe my mom and your dad came from the same parents.”
“I know.” We discussed this all the time, how different Pop and Aunt Carrie were in spite of being raised in the same household. Aunt Carrie was a lot more laid back and go-with-the-flow. She was a high school teacher and a big believer in picking your battles.
We were the last to show up in the bonfire clearing. Emmett had already arrived and was sitting by himself on one of the logs, head bent as he stabbed a stick into the coarse sand below him. Zoe and Gabriella paddled in the water nearby, giggling and dunking each other and essentially putting on a show for the guys. But only the twins were watching, their mouths hanging open in dual expressions of awe. Nate was busy getting the fire going, and Emmett kept on drawing patterns in the sand like it was the only thing preventing him from dying of boredom.
“Ladies,” Nate said when he saw us. His eyes literally twinkled in the glow of the fire as if he was silently congratulating himself on luring us there. I raised my eyebrows at him warily and went to join Emmett on the log. There was just enough space to the right of him for one person, and I immediately claimed that spot so Harper would have no choice but to sit on his other side.
“Hi, Emmett,” I said cheerfully. “You’re here for the s’mores too, huh?”
He sat up straight and threw his stick into the crackling fire. “Obviously.”
Zoe or Gabriella let out another loud squeal from the water, and Harper rolled her eyes. To his credit, Emmett hadn’t looked their way even once since we’d arrived. Either he had caught on to their utter shamelessness or he really was gay. I still hadn’t decided.
With the fire suitably underway, Nate stood up and peered over at us. “Hey, Harper,” he said, brushing off his hands. “Want to help me bring down the s’mores supplies?”
“I’ll help you, Nate!” Zoe called from the water.
Nate ignored her.
“Um,” Harper said, glancing at me.
Earlier, I’d told her what Nate had said that morning in his boat, how he’d liked her since that first summer. Her response had been to wrinkle her nose like she’d smelled decaying fish and make gagging noises, but she didn’t seem totally against the idea.
“I guess so,” she decided after a long pause, and slowly stood up to join him. Together, they walked up the steps to Nate’s cottage.
“Nate’s mom always gets the good chocolate,” I said to Emmett. I felt slightly awkward, sitting so close to him without Harper. But getting up and moving to his other side would be weird, and it didn’t seem like he was about to scoot over anytime soon. “Like this Swiss stuff that literally melts in your mouth,” I went on, trying to distract us both from the fact that our thighs were touching. “So yummy.”
He looked over at me, his lips turning up into a small smile. He didn’t smile often, but when he did, it transformed his face and his demeanor. Smiling Emmett seemed lighter, more relaxed. And about ten times cuter.
“You know what?” he said, his gaze traveling over my hair, which was fashioned into a forties-inspired roll, and then down to my yellow, halter-style dress. “You look different every time I see you.”
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back at him. “I like to stand out.”
“Well, you definitely do,” he told me, and once again I felt the tips of my ears grow warm.
We fell silent, each of us mesmerized by the growing flames in front of us. The smoldering wood sizzled and spit, throwing sparks into the air above. I struggled to think of something to say, something random and safe, and settled on, “What happened to the sunflowers?”
Emmett glanced at me again. “What?”
“The sunflowers,” I repeated. “In front of your cottage. The ones Mrs. Canting planted. I noticed when I was over there the other day that they’re gone. What happened to them?”
“Oh, those. My mom ripped them up. She thinks sunflowers are creepy.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning even wider. “She says they look like giant black eyes, watching her.”
I laughed. “I guess they kind of do.”
His smile disappeared and he shifted his position on the log. “Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that day you came to see me. What you heard—”
I reached out to touch his arm, to stop him from talking, but retracted my hand at the last second. No touching. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I know, but I want to.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose. “Like I told you, what you heard that morning was normal for them. My parents have been at each other’s throats for as long as I can remember. I’m not sure when it started, or why, but it’s always been this way. Sometimes they go months without fighting and everything’s good, but then something will set one of them off and it’ll start all over again.”
“What do they fight about?”
“Everything.
Work, money, chores . . . me. Sometimes they try to get me to take sides, and when I do, one of them will accuse the other of trying to turn me against them. They used to do the same thing to my brother Wes. That’s why he moved away right after graduation and has hardly been back since.” He stretched his legs out toward the fire. “I still have another year before I can escape, but I try to stay out of the house as much as I can. That’s one of the reasons I joined the cross-country team, you know. When I’m running, all I can hear is my breathing. I don’t have to think about anything other than where my foot is going next. It centers me. Quiets my mind.”
I placed my palm on his forearm and squeezed. I couldn’t help it; I was a hugger, a toucher, especially when someone was so clearly in need of a dose of positive human contact. He didn’t stiffen up or pull away, so I assumed he didn’t mind the offer of comfort.
“I can’t believe I just told you all that,” he said, sighing. “I don’t usually talk about it, especially to someone I only met a week ago, but I figured I owed you an explanation after what happened. Thinking back on it, I was kind of rude to you that morning. Sorry.”
I waved my free hand, brushing away the unneeded apology. “What about divorce?” I asked him gently. “My aunt Carrie and her ex-husband fought a lot too, and everyone was much better off when they separated.” The mention of Harper’s parents made me think of her, and I dropped my hand from Emmett’s warm arm.
“They’ve tried separating twice already and got back together both times. I’m not sure why . . . it’s like they hate each other.” His eyes met mine again. In the dark, the blue of his irises seemed black like Mrs. Canting’s creepy sunflowers. “Do your parents get along?”
I nodded. “For the most part, yes. They’ve been together for twenty-three years, since they were seniors in college, and they’re still in love. They rarely fight, and I absolutely hate it when they do. I can’t imagine listening to it all the time.”
“You’re lucky.”
“I know.” Even when Pop was being overprotective, or when Dad was away on a business trip instead of spending time with me, I never took for granted how fortunate I was to have them.
“Are you . . .” Emmett shifted again, running a hand through his hair in a gesture I’d come to recognize as nervousness. “Are you, um, adopted?”
It was a question I received often, so I never took offense at the personal nature of it. “No,” I replied, and then went on to explain about Aunt Beth’s egg donation, the surrogacy, and Dad’s contribution to it all. “Most kids like me are either adopted or related to just one parent, but I’m biologically related to both my dads.”
“That’s so cool,” he said. “I mean, that something like that is possible.”
“It wasn’t easy, but it was important to them.”
“So how do you decide whose last name to use?”
That was another question I got often. My dads had been legally married for several years, but unlike most opposite-sex couples, they’d both kept their last names.
“That was the subject of one of their rare fights, so the story goes,” I said. “Since Dad is technically my father, my other dad—I call him Pop to avoid confusion—argued that I should get his last name. So I’m Kat Henley, which is fortunate because my other dad’s last name is Colvin. Kat Colvin sounds too cutesy, even for me.”
Emmett smiled again. “At least your last name doesn’t make people think of peanut butter cups.”
“Mmm,” I said, because I was thinking about chocolate again. Where were Harper and Nate? They’d been gone for at least fifteen minutes. Actually, where was everyone? Zoe and Gabriella and the twins had all disappeared, too. I’d been so preoccupied talking to Emmett, I hadn’t even noticed their departure.
“Well,” I said, stretching out my legs next to his. “I guess we should—” But before I had a chance to finish my sentence, heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and Harper appeared, looking out of sorts.
“Harper, what’s wrong?” I asked when I saw her face. She was frowning and looked close to tears.
“Nothing,” she said, eyeing the lack of space between Emmett and me.
Flustered, I stood up and moved toward her. Up close, her eyes were red and puffy.
“Are you ready to go? Let’s go.”
“What happened?” I demanded. So help me, if Nate had done something to her, I’d make him wish he was never born.
“Nothing.” Her eyes flicked to Emmett, who was still sitting on the log a few feet away, watching us.
I grabbed her arm and led her away, closer to the water. “Tell me,” I whispered.
“It’s nothing, Kat.”
I refused to let go of her arm or leave until she spilled. She must have seen it on my face because she caved pretty quickly.
“Nate tried to kiss me in the kitchen and I wouldn’t let him, so he got pissed and said he wasn’t desperate enough to make out with me anyway. Then he found Zoe and started making out with her. That’s what happened, okay? Satisfied? Can we go now?”
White hot rage bubbled in my stomach. “That son of a bitch,” I snarled. “I’m gonna kick his ass.” I started toward the stairs, murder in my heart, but Harper pulled me back.
“Just forget it, Kat. It’s not worth it. He was just being Nate.”
“No, he was just being a total shithead.”
“Same difference,” she said as Emmett came up behind us and asked if everything was okay. “We’re fine,” she replied. “Just leaving.”
“I’ll walk you guys home,” he said.
The three of us headed toward the dark road, not even bothering to stop by Nate’s cottage as we passed to let him know we were leaving. That jerk had officially run out of chances and it was only the second week of summer.
“Why do you guys even hang out with him?” Emmett asked as we walked.
I was in the middle, with him on my left and Harper on my right. Going by the undercurrent of disgust in his voice, he’d overheard our conversation earlier. I’d forgotten how voices tended to carry near the lake.
“I don’t know,” Harper said bitterly. “Habit?”
“He’s always been kind of an asshat,” I put in. “But mostly a harmless kind of asshat, you know? I’m not sure what happened to him over the past year, but this summer it’s like he’s reached a whole new level of asshattery.”
“All I know is, that was my last bonfire at McTurdy’s cottage,” Harper said.
“Mine too.”
“And mine,” Emmett said, and a moment later, I felt his broad shoulder brush against my bare one. It was really dark on the road, the gravel uneven in spots, so I was sure it had been an accident. But my skin tingled nonetheless.
Just like last Tuesday, the two of them dropped me at my cottage first and then continued on to Harper’s. But unlike last Tuesday, I didn’t go inside right away to assure them maximum privacy. Instead, I stood at the edge of my driveway, watching them until they reached a curve in the road and disappeared.
chapter 10
To make up for neglecting Pop last week as he wrote himself into a stupor, I made it my personal mission to ensure he got plenty of fresh air and sunshine. The mission began at precisely six-thirty on Monday evening, when I sat down across from him at the kitchen table as he tapped away on his laptop and ignored the grilled cheese sandwich I’d made for him.
“Time to go, Pop,” I said, rapping my knuckles against the table top.
“Hmm?” He glanced up at me without really seeing me. “Go where?”
“Harper’s first game? Soccer? The Erwin Eagles?” I pressed my finger against his laptop screen and slowly began to push it closed. “Ring a bell?”
“Oh, right.” He scooted his laptop closer to him and opened it back up. “Okay, just let me finish this one—”
“No. I haven’t bugged you all day, so you owe me at least a couple hours of father-daughter bonding.”
He stopped typing and looked at me for real, his forehead smooth
ing. “That I do,” he said, smiling as he hit SAVE and shut the laptop. He stood up, grabbed his car keys and the cold grilled cheese, and ushered me out the door.
As we crawled down the gravel road in Pop’s Volvo, I spotted Emmett up ahead of us, alone and walking toward town. “Stop for a second,” I told Pop, and then I leaned out the passenger side window and called Emmett’s name.
He spun around, startled, as if bracing for yet another collision. That first run in the woods had traumatized him, obviously, and he didn’t even know about my involvement in his near-death.
“Hey,” he said, his face relaxing when he realized it was me. He walked over to my side of the car.
“Where you headed?” I asked him.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked behind him. “Just taking a walk,” he said, his eyes back on me. They’re at it again over there, they told me.
“Well, why don’t you come with us instead? We’re on our way to Harper’s game at the soccer field.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun.” I glanced over at Pop, who was scratching his stubbly jaw like he did whenever he was trying to work out a scene in his head. No help there. “We’re not from here, so Harper needs her own cheering section.”
Emmett deliberated for another few seconds before opening the door and climbing into the backseat. The station wagon was always a mess, so he had to move aside a pile of papers and junk before he could sit down. “Cool,” he said, picking up the object on top—one of the bookmarks Pop’s publicist had made for his last book launch. “You’re a K. B. Marks fan, too? The Core Earth series is awesome. Can’t wait for Book Six to come out.”
I had to turn away and press my fist to my mouth to keep from laughing. K. B. Marks was Pop’s pen name, a combination of my first initial, his first initial, and Dad’s first name. Not many people knew the man behind the name. His paperbacks had no photo at the back, so he wasn’t often recognized.
“Me either,” Pop said with a completely straight face. He loved it when he came across a fan who unwittingly discussed his own books with him. Usually, he didn’t bother to set them straight.
Any Other Girl Page 7
