Reading Between the Lines

by Katrina Abbott

  Suddenly, Chelly pulled the car into the parking lot of a 7-11. “I need a corn dog or I’m going to die,” she said in explanation. “But first, I need a high-five because I love that you kissed your coach at the dance.”

  I declined the high five at first, but it was obvious we would be going nowhere if I didn’t give in, so I did. “Technically, he kissed me,” I said. “Same with Dave today.”

  “Right. And you hated it both times and got out your rape whistle.”

  “Er...not exactly.”

  “So, you need to kiss both of them again. Without seafood in Dave’s case and without interruption in Coach Brady’s.”

  “I can’t be with Brady; it’s a moot point.”

  She held up her hand and ticked off her fingers just as I had done only a few minutes before. “He’s going to be out of training for a while. He may be your coach, but he’s still just an eighteen year old guy. He’s not a professor. And you’ll hide if from his mom. If he’s into you, he’ll be all for that. And he’s hot; don’t forget he’s totally hot.”

  Like I could ever forget that? I opened my mouth to protest, but she held her hand up. “Kiss him again. You have to, or you’ll never know and will always wonder. And if you do it before Thanksgiving and it sucks, you’re done with him and you’ll know Dave is the guy for you.”

  “But what if it doesn’t suck?”

  “We’ll reevaluate. Trust me, Brooklyn. I’ll help you through this.”

  It made sense, I guess, though a little part of my brain whispered that her strategy would do nothing other than make it more confusing. Although I would get to kiss Brady again and secretly I did like that part of her plan.

  I nodded. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’ll try that.”

  She grinned and took the keys out of the car. “It’s the best way to know for sure. Now come on, let’s get some corn dogs.”

  ~ ♥ ~

  We ate our corn dogs on our way back to campus (Robert’s car already smelled gross, so I couldn’t imagine the smell of fried cornbread could make it any worse) and Chelly parked in the staff dorm parking lot, as my brother had instructed. She gave me the keys and we headed across campus to the main building. It was barely seven p.m. but all I wanted was to have a hot bath and climb into bed.

  “Movie night?” I asked Chelly as we climbed the stairs to the third floor.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “I’m pretty tired.”

  “It’s a movie, Brooklyn, not a triathlon.”

  I chuckled. “Good point. But I need to shower the hospital off me first.”

  We stopped at her dorm room door. “Thanks for today,” I said. “Even though you spilled to my brother and tricked me into admitting secrets. Really. Thanks for coming to the hospital.”

  She threw her arms around me and as we hugged, said into my ear. “That’s what friends do. Those secrets are safe with me, but make sure you talk to Emmie before she hears it from someone else.”

  We pulled out of the hug. “I will. In a few days when I get my head sorted.”

  She nodded. “Okay. See you in the lounge in a bit.”

  I left her and continued down the hall to my own room, taking my key card out of my pocket. I slid it into the slot and only then realized I had no idea if Emmie was home or where she’d been all day. It was weird for us to spend a whole day apart and not even know where the other was, but she was probably in the library researching a paper on human trafficking or something like that.

  The door beeped and I pushed it open to find her sitting on her bed, a shiny guitar on her lap.

  “Hey,” I said.

  She looked up. “Oh hi. I was wondering when you’d get home. How did it go?”

  Obviously she hadn’t spoken to anyone. I searched her face; she looked a bit sad, but not mad or even concerned and if she knew about Dave, she would have opened with asking how he was doing.

  “It was a crazy day,” I said, letting the door close behind me as I came into the room and sat down on my bed. “I didn’t know you played,” I said, nodding at the guitar.

  “I don’t,” she said, tracing her fingers along the curve of the instrument. “I bought this for Dave for his birthday; it’s next week.”

  My heart began to race in my chest, dread turning the corn dog in my stomach into a ball of lead. “What are you going to do with it?”

  She looked up at me. “I think I made the biggest mistake of my life, Brooklyn,” she said, as though she hadn’t heard my question. “I never should have broken up with him.”

  Second Thoughts

  “What?”

  “I never should have broken up with Dave,” she said again, running her fingers up the neck of the guitar, thumbing her way down the strings.

  I stared at my roommate, thinking I must have inhaled some toxic fumes at the hospital or something. Because there was no way she was saying what I thought she was saying.

  “Where is this coming from?” I asked.

  “I was in Kaylee and Celia’s room earlier and saw this and it made me think about him. I’d actually forgotten I’d even bought it for him, if you believe it. But I started thinking about the good times and...I miss him, you know? The times behind the stables. God, the kissing. He’s such a good kisser, you have no idea.”

  She looked up at me and her eyes went suddenly wide. “Brooklyn? What’s wrong, you’re as white as a ghost!”

  My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest if it beat any harder and I could barely breathe, wondering if this is what anaphylaxis felt like. “I just...why, Emmie? You can’t get back with him. You broke it off.” My voice took on a hysterical pitch as I tried to catch my breath and not pass out. I knew I was losing it, but was powerless to stop it.

  She did a double-take. “But...I thought you liked Dave,” she said. “I thought you’d be happy if we got back together. What is happening?”

  I dropped my head into my hands, pressing my palms into my eye sockets. “I do,” I said. Too much.

  “So what’s the problem? What’s going on?” she said. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

  Taking a deep breath, and then another, I looked up at her. “We need to talk.”

  Emmie frowned but took the guitar off her lap and leaned it against the wall before she got up and sat next to me on my bed. She took my hand, which just about killed me, my guilt and feelings of betrayal cutting through my chest like a scythe. “What is it, Brooklyn?”

  Do not cry, I told myself. And then I opened my mouth and it all fell out. I told her everything. About the kiss, the panicked trip to the hospital, the plan for Thanksgiving and even the incident that had happened in her own bed when he thought he’d been sneaking in to see her.

  The whole time, she said nothing; she didn’t interrupt me even once. When I was done, I took several breaths, terrified of what was going to happen next, but at the same time relieved that it was all off my chest. Especially the part about the bed incident that had happened when they’d still been going out. It wasn’t until now that I realized how heavily that whole thing had been weighing on my conscience.

  Finally, I looked up at her, holding my breath.

  She just stared at me, her face unreadable.

  “Emmie?” I croaked.

  She swallowed and looked straight ahead, her eyes unfocused. “Yeah. I...So this is weird.”

  Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it. “Are you mad?”

  Her head swiveled and she looked at me, exhaling before she spoke. “I don’t think so. Maybe a bit hurt that you didn’t tell me before now. I knew you liked him from the beginning, but you promised me there was nothing going on. And maybe stupid that I went on about how you had no idea he was a good kisser, when obviously you did.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “He’s good though, right?”

  I wasn’t sure of the right answer here, since I didn’t exactly want to linger over his kissing skills since it still felt so sordid, so I just nodded.r />
  Then she cocked her head and frowned. “Wait. When I told you I was having doubts about him, you told me not to break up with him. Why?”

  “Because I was trying to be a good friend. Because I would never be able to live with myself if I’d told you to break up with him so I could be with him. And for the record, I never intended to pursue him. Please believe me, Emmie.”

  “Is he why you broke up with Abe?”

  “No,” I said, not hesitating to tell her the truth. “I broke up with Jared because I don’t feel that way about him. I mean, I think Jared knew that there were some feelings there...between Dave and I,” I choked out. “But like I said, I had no intention of going there. Trust me, Emmie, my life would be so much easier if I felt that way about Jared. He’s an amazing guy and I like him a lot as a friend. There’s just no spark for me.”

  After a long time, she exhaled loudly and said, “You know what? It makes sense. I guess I sort of felt him pulling away from me,” she shook her head when I opened my mouth to protest, terrified that she thought I was the cause of his distance. “As much as I was pulling away from him. We were different this year. I think the first time we saw each other we were maybe riding the high of being back together after the summer apart, but it went downhill quickly. You said he’d told you he felt it, too.”

  I nodded. “That’s why I told him to do that grand gesture thing, but I never thought his plan was to sneak in here. If I’d thought for a second...”

  “It’s okay,” she said, interrupting me. “I know you wouldn’t have.”

  “Not in a million years.”

  “You’re a good friend, Brooklyn.”

  I looked down at my hands and picked at a hangnail. “I don’t feel like one.”

  Her hand landed on my arm and I glanced up into her eyes. “You are. You’re telling me now. And I know that you would have told me before something big happened even if I hadn’t greeted you tonight with my ridiculously misguided heart on my sleeve.”

  “Thank you,” I said right before she pulled me into one of her hugs.

  “So,” I said, when we parted. “What now?” Never in my life had I ever asked a more loaded question. I supposed on one hand she had dibs, since my being with him was against the roommate/friend code. But on the other, she had broken up with him, saying she didn’t see herself with him long term. What had changed? And why?

  “I don’t know,” she said on an exhale. We sat there for a long time, the silence crackling between us as I waited for her verdict about all this. I wanted her to say I could have him, I wanted to tell her he wanted me. But part of me was really scared they were meant to be together and he’d jump at the chance to be with her again, given the opportunity.

  “Do you want to be with him again?” I whispered, terrified of her answer, but needing to hear it anyway.

  Looking up at me, she gave a faint smile and said, “You know, I don’t think I do. I was feeling sad and nostalgic and probably more than a bit lonely. He is a good guy and I let all of that make me think it would be easier to get back with him than go on without him. But now I realize that would be stupid and we’d go right back to where we were. Assuming he’d even want me back, which he probably wouldn’t if he could have you.”

  “I wouldn’t, Emmie. If you want him...”

  She grabbed my hand again. “No. It’s okay. I was being stupid. I missed the idea of him, but not him. Not really.”

  “Even if you don’t want him back, I won’t do anything if it will be weird,” I said. “Our friendship is more important. I would never want to jeopardize that, Emmie.” Even though it might kill me.

  She smiled at me, squeezing my fingers. “You’re such a Rosewood. I love that about you. But I think...no, I know it will be fine.”

  “I’m still not entirely sure...I meant it when I told him I wasn’t making any decisions until after Thanksgiving because I need to get my head sorted. But even still, are you sure you’re okay with it if I do decide I want to go out with him? God’s honest truth?” I asked.

  “Positive. Anyway,” she said with a wave of her hand. “He doesn’t have any tattoos and he’s allergic to shellfish. I couldn’t live without seafood long term; he is definitely not the guy for me. What was I thinking?”

  We both laughed. The knots in my stomach started loosening and I pulled her into another hug. “You’re the best, Emmeline Somerville.”

  “So,” she said once we were done with that. “What are you giving him for his birthday?”

  I stared at her and shook my head. “I don’t know. What’s the protocol in this situation?”

  “A guitar?” she said, glancing over at the instrument. “I can’t give him that, now. It’s too much, don’t you think?”

  “Can’t you return it?”

  She shook her head. “Custom made. I ordered it months ago.”

  Which meant it was too much for me to give him, too. “I can’t give him that,” I said. “We’re not even dating yet.”

  “But you will be,” she said. “You two would be perfect together and of course you’re into him.”

  If only it was that easy. I thought about my conversation with Chelly. I exhaled and then said. “Okay, don’t hate me, but there’s more I have to tell you.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “What more could there be, Brooklyn?”

  So I told her about Brady and Chelly’s idea of how to figure out which one I wanted.

  She blinked at me a few times and then a slow smile spread across her lips. “That’s perfect.”

  “Huh?”

  “Chelly’s right. Have you ever heard that old Cher song: It’s In His Kiss? That’s so true. You’ll kiss them both again and that will sort it out for you.”

  “What if they’re both equally good?”

  “Not possible,” she said with a dismissive wave. “You’ll rate them and one will give you the feeling more than the other. I don’t believe one won’t come out ahead.”

  “This sounds very...high schoolish.”

  She gave me a withering look. “This is high school. But I think it’s still a good idea. You’ll see them both again, you’ll kiss each of them and then you’ll rank them and after Thanksgiving, you’ll decide.”

  I looked at her sideways, a little concerned that she’d gone from wanting Dave back to encouraging me to kiss him and rank him only a few minutes later. And then I reminded myself I was talking about Emmie.

  “His birthday is a perfect excuse to see him.”

  I supposed that was true. “But I can’t give him that guitar, Emmie. I think you should do the mature thing and give it to him and just explain that you ordered it a while back. I’m sure he’ll still appreciate it and he won’t think it’s a play to get him back or anything.”

  She smirked. “It almost was one.”

  My stomach lurched. But she shook her head. “It would have been a stupid thing; you have nothing to worry about.”

  But I had to know. “If I don’t start dating him, will you try to get him back?”

  She didn’t hesitate when she said no. “I was being stupid. Honest.” Then she got up off my bed. “You’re coming to movie night, right?”

  “I’m going to shower first, but I’m pretty wrecked. I may not stay awake for the whole thing.”

  She nodded. “It’s been a stressful day for you. I’m going to go down and get some snacks before. I’ll see you in the lounge.” She turned and headed toward the door, but I stopped her, calling her name.

  “Yeah?” she said looking over her shoulder.

  “We’re good, right?”

  She smiled. “More than good. Now go get in the shower before you fall asleep on me.”

  And then she was gone.

  ~ ♥ ~

  As I got up to take that shower, I realized in a slight panic that I hadn’t called the dean yet, so instead of going into the bathroom, I sat at my desk and picked up the phone, dialing her number that was right there on the phone as one of the emergency
codes.

  While it rang, I rehearsed the message I was going to leave, but then, “Dean Haywood speaking.”

  “Oh, er, uh...” I gurgled.

  “Ms. Prescott,” she said. “I presume that’s you or has a troll taken over your phone?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it’s me,” I said, doing a facepalm. “I’m checking in. Seychelles and I are back on campus. My brother actually offered to take Dave back to campus, so Seychelles and I came right back.”

  “She called me a few minutes ago to say the same, but thank you. I appreciate you letting me know.”

  Like we had a choice?

  “Good night, Ms. Prescott.”

  “Wait,” I blurted out before she could hang up. “Is Br...Coach Fleming okay?”

  It fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I quickly realized my mistake when it came back to me how protective she’d been of him before, worried that maybe he and I were involved or something. “I mean, never mind. It’s not my business,” I added which probably just made it worse.

  “There will be no equestrian practice tomorrow, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said in a clipped tone after a long pause. “I’m in my office composing an e-mail to the team as we speak.”

  That was as good an out as any. “Thank you ma’am. Have a good night.”

  “You as well,” she said before disconnecting the call.

  As I hung up on my end, I realized my cell had been awfully quiet and then I remembered I’d turned it off after I’d finished texting Jared back at the hospital.

  A feeling of impending doom washed over me as I pulled it out of my pocket and turned it on, the incoming text sound pinging like crazy.

  It was mostly my friends, checking in through the day. And then another one from Jared, looking for an update on Dave. Oops. But there were two that really got me.

  From Brady timestamped from this afternoon, maybe after the dean had dropped him off: no practice tomorrow, but need to see you.

  And the last one from Dave: why did you run out? Are we ok?

  I sighed, both thrilled and anxious that they were both texting me. I figured best to start with the (slightly) easier one, but I had a feeling 140 characters wasn’t going to cut it, so I opened my e-mail.