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Page 9

by Amanda Abram


  Justin, who was also still standing there, draped an arm around Emma’s shoulders and said, “We’ll leave you two alone to talk.”

  Emma shot me a look of panic over her shoulder as Justin began to lead her away. I sort of shrugged, not knowing what to do. I had to stay and talk to Grace. If I’d tried to follow Emma and Justin, she probably would’ve literally tried stabbing me in the back.

  “Well?” Grace said, now folding her arms across her chest. “Explain yourself.”

  I sighed. “Look, Grace, I’m sorry I haven’t been answering your calls or responding to your texts. To be honest, after the fight we had the other day, I wasn’t sure what the status of our relationship was, and I wanted to make sure you had a few days to cool down before we talked.”

  Grace softened slightly, but I could tell she still wasn’t happy with me. “I would have thought you’d like to know how the date with my match went.”

  Here was where I had to put my acting abilities to the test. I had to act like I cared how her date went, or who the date was with. “How did it go?”

  “Horrible!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “My match was Owen Lockwood!” She grimaced.

  “What’s wrong with Owen?”

  “He’s a jerk!” she exclaimed, scrunching up her face in disgust. She could have done a lot worse than Owen, who was another one of the most popular guys in our class, especially with the girls.

  “I’m a jerk, too,” I pointed out.

  “Yes, but you’re my jerk.” She pouted slightly. “So, who was your match?”

  I stiffened, not knowing how to answer that. But I didn’t have to. As soon as she asked, my gaze instinctively flew over to Emma, who was now standing all alone in the crowd, looking miserable as she glanced around the room, probably in search of a familiar, friendly face. She was unlikely to find one.

  “No. No way.” Grace shook her head vigorously back and forth. “Emma Dawson was not your match.”

  “Actually,” I said, “she was.”

  Grace’s jaw dropped. “That’s impossible! How did you get matched up with her? You two have nothing in common!”

  “Apparently, we do.”

  She looked horrified at the possibility. “So, what, are you dating her now or something?”

  I almost wanted to say yes. I almost wanted to make her think that Emma and I were dating. After all, wasn’t that the whole point of lying on that test? To make Grace think that she and I weren’t compatible? To make her think that maybe my taste in women had changed so she would give up on me?

  But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell her the truth either, so I instead opted to go with, “No, I’m not dating her. I’m helping her out with something.” I figured I might as well go along with what Emma had told her dad earlier. At least then our stories would be straight.

  “What could you possibly be helping her out with?” Grace asked, undoubtedly confused by all of this.

  “It’s a long story,” I said, hoping she would drop it.

  Luckily, she did. With a sly grin, she placed the tip of her forefinger on the center of my chest and batted her eyelashes up at me. “Well, then, if you’re not with her, what do you say we take this conversation to an empty bedroom upstairs? I put one on reserve with Justin earlier, in case you showed up.”

  Before I could respond, Grace lifted herself up on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against mine in a soft kiss before whispering into my ear, “But we don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to.”

  I could feel her lips forming into a smile and I swallowed hard in an attempt to tamp down the sudden feeling of desire that washed over me. With a low groan, I carefully pried her off me.

  “As nice as that sounds, I should go check on Emma,” I said.

  I knew right away that was the wrong thing to say. The smile vanished from her face and was replaced by a scowl. Her eyes narrowed and her face reddened—most likely from anger, but also most likely from the embarrassment of me turning her down. I’d never done that before.

  Grace pushed me away and stepped back, her hands forming into fists at her sides. “Are you seriously choosing that nerd over me?” Her voice was dangerously low.

  “She shouldn’t be alone,” I said. “She’s never been to a party before and I don’t exactly trust any of the guys here.”

  “And since when do you care, huh? You hate Emma. How many times have you whined and complained about her to me? And now, suddenly you’re bringing her to parties and worrying about guys hitting on her?”

  She had a valid point. But even though Emma and I weren’t friends, I’d brought her to the party, so I was responsible for her. I promised her father I’d bring her back unscathed.

  “Logan,” Grace said, softening her tone just the slightest. “Forget about Emma. She’ll be fine.” She took hold of my hand and pulled me toward her. “I want to show you how much I’ve missed you this last week.” She lifted herself up again and ran the tip of her tongue lightly against my bottom lip before taking it gently between her teeth.

  She knew that was a weakness of mine. She was evil.

  Placing a hand at the back of her head, weaving my fingers through her beach-waved hair, I pulled her face closer to mine and kissed her—hard, fast, deep, and she returned in kind.

  I guess I’d kind of missed her this last week as well.

  But I couldn’t forget why I was there. Leaving Emma alone at her first high school party, with guys like Justin on the prowl, wasn’t fair to her. And I couldn’t risk it traumatizing her to the point where she no longer wanted anything to do with my plan.

  So, I used every bit of willpower in my body to remove myself from Grace. “I’m sorry.”

  Her face twisted into a look of pure disgust as she placed her hands on my chest and attempted to give me a shove. “Go to hell, Logan. We’re through—for good this time.”

  I’d heard those words so many times in the last year, but something about the way she said it now made me think she was serious this time.

  “Grace,” I said weakly, reaching out to her.

  “Don’t,” she spat, swatting my hand away. “You were right, Logan. You are a jerk.” She glanced over my shoulder and added, “Oh, and you might want to go rescue your new girlfriend. Looks like Justin’s trying to get her drunk.”

  I whipped my head around in time to see Justin returning to Emma’s side and handing her a red plastic cup. “Oh, I don’t think so,” I muttered to myself. As I began to move, taking long strides through the crowd in hopes of making it over to Emma in time, I heard Grace yell out after me.

  “Screw you, Logan!”

  A small group of kids standing nearby heard her and turned to glance curiously at me. This wasn’t the first time my relationship with Grace had created a spectacle at a party, so they were all used to it. They turned back to their own conversation as if nothing had happened.

  I made it over to Emma just as the rim of the cup met her lips. “I’ll take that,” I said, grabbing it out of her hands before she had a chance to take a sip.

  Justin scowled at me. “Whoa, what the hell, Logan?”

  “Emma’s not interested in getting drunk, Justin.”

  “It’s just Coke,” Emma said, all innocent and naive-like.

  I snorted. “Just Coke my ass.” Justin could have put anything in that drink, and if the stories I’d heard about him at past parties were true, he probably had.

  “Emma,” I said, grabbing her arm. “We’re leaving.”

  She stared at me in confusion. “What? Already? Why?”

  I ignored her questions as I began to lead her away. Away from the creep standing in front of us. Away from this stupid party. What was I thinking, bringing her there?

  As soon as we were outside, I dumped out the drink and tossed the cup into the bushes.

  “What was that all about?” Emma asked as we made our way to my car. “Justin was just being nice.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “What, ar
e you into Justin now or something?” I was suddenly more annoyed with her than usual.

  “Of course not.” She frowned. “Are you okay?”

  I raked a hand through my hair. “I’m fine. Grace dumped me and I’m not in a great mood.”

  “Oh.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

  I didn’t feel like getting into the specifics, especially not with the girl who technically was the reason for the break-up. “She got upset about something, and then I didn’t do or say the right thing, so she dumped me.”

  Emma remained silent for a moment, deep in thought before saying, “Why don’t you go back in there and try talking to her? Apologize for whatever you didn’t say or do? She’s crazy about you. I’m sure she’ll take you back.”

  Except, I didn’t want her to take me back. Grace and I had been playing this game with each other for a year now, and I was tired of it. She was fun and hot, but girls like her were a dime a dozen.

  “Nah,” I said as I began walking again. “I’m done. I don’t need that kind of drama in my life, you know?” I glanced down at her with a sympathetic smile. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to bring you over to Matt.”

  Emma shrugged. “No worries. I have no idea what I would have said to him, anyway.” She gave me a sheepish grin. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t seem to formulate words when I’m around him. At least not ones I can get to come out of my mouth properly.”

  I chuckled as we approached my car. “I’ve noticed. But don’t worry, that’s what I’m here for—to be your own personal Cyrano de Bergerac.”

  Emma laughed. “I don’t think I could trust you to be my Cyrano.”

  “Why not?” I playfully nudged her.

  “Because you’d probably have me say something stupid or embarrassing.”

  “I would never,” I said innocently, but we both knew I was lying.

  “Hey, you want to go grab a quick bite to eat?” I asked her. “Then maybe we can head over to my house and we can flesh out this plan of mine a little more? Obviously, I could use a little help, considering how much of a bust tonight turned out to be.”

  She seemed surprised at my suggestion. “Um, sure,” she said, after what appeared to be careful deliberation.

  I opened the passenger door for her and she climbed into the car. When I turned to make my away around to the other side, I could see Grace standing in the doorway, staring out at us with fierce disapproval.

  A brief feeling of dread washed over me as I got in the car beside Emma. Something told me I’d made a huge mistake with Grace…and she was no doubt going to make me pay for it.

  Chapter Twelve

  EMMA

  It was only a little after eight-thirty when Logan pulled his Mustang into his driveway. In the span of an hour and a half, we went to a party, Logan got dumped, I was flirted with by one of the most popular guys at school, we left the party, we stopped at a fast food restaurant and quickly and silently ate a couple cheeseburgers, and then we drove home. We were nothing if not efficient.

  I hadn’t been inside Logan’s house for years. The last time I was there, it was for his eleventh birthday party. That was the last one my parents forced me to attend, and the last one his parents had forced him to invite me to. Needless to say, it was weird stepping inside. It was like I was a little kid again.

  “Emma Dawson!”

  As soon as we shut the door behind us, Logan’s father stepped out of the living room to greet us.

  “Hey, Mark,” I said with a smile and a wave.

  “I thought you guys were going to a party?” He glanced curiously at Logan.

  “We went,” Logan said. “It was lame. We decided to leave.”

  “Is that Logan and Emma?” came a voice from the kitchen. A few seconds later, Logan’s stepmother, Rachel, emerged carrying a salad bowl. “Oh hey, you two. We were getting ready to have some dinner. Would you like to join us? There’s more than enough food.”

  “No, thanks,” Logan replied politely. “We grabbed something on the way home. We’re gonna go upstairs. We’ve got some stuff to work on.”

  Mark looked confused. “Stuff?”

  “Yeah. School stuff.”

  “But school’s out for the summer.”

  “I realize that, Dad. This is a…summer project. For extra credit.”

  “Oh.” Mark didn’t look like he bought that, but he let it go. “Okay then. Have fun, I guess?”

  Rachel returned to the kitchen and set down the salad just as a wailing cry came from upstairs. Her shoulders sagged slightly. “Abby does this every time. It’s like she knows when we’re getting ready to do something and she starts crying on purpose.” She started heading for the stairs. “She’s going to be a fun teenager, I can already tell.”

  Surprisingly, Logan placed a hand on her arm to stop her. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll go check on Abby.”

  Rachel’s face morphed into an expression of gratitude. “Really? You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all,” Logan replied.

  “Thank you,” Rachel breathed. She smiled at me and said, “It’s nice to see you, Emma,” before heading back to the kitchen with Mark.

  “That was nice of you,” I said as we started up the stairs.

  “I’m not always a jerk, you know.”

  To me, he was, but I decided not to say that out loud.

  Abby’s nursery was located at the end of the hallway, right next to Mark and Rachel’s bedroom, and it was the cutest room I’d ever seen. Three of the walls had been painted pale pink, while painted on the other wall was a breathtaking mural of a forest. On the wall above her crib, her name was spelled out in large, bright pink, sequined letters, and it was surrounded by framed prints of Disney princesses. Little stuffed animals—bunnies, kittens, puppies, lambs, monkeys, owls, you name it—were scattered throughout the room, even though she wasn’t old enough yet to appreciate them.

  “I know,” Logan said, taking note of my expression of awe. “Disgusting, huh? It’s like Tinkerbell projectile vomited all over the room.”

  “Not at all. This room is amazing.”

  “Not as amazing as the baby who sleeps in it,” he said, reaching into Abby’s crib and picking her up.

  The instant she was in his arms, the crying stopped. It was like he’d found a switch somewhere on her back and flipped it, that’s how sudden the transformation was.

  “Wow,” I said, thoroughly impressed. “You’re really good with her.”

  “Thanks,” he said, bouncing her slightly on his hip. She rested her little head against his chest as she fought to keep her eyes open. “But I can’t take credit for that. It’s science.”

  I blinked in confusion. “Science?”

  “Yeah. Science. They’ve done studies and have found babies react exceptionally well to beautiful people. Something having to do with them finding aesthetic features to be calming.”

  I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Seriously?”

  He flashed me a cocky grin. “Here, we’ll test it out.” He held Abby out to me and without thinking about what he was doing, I took her from him.

  She seemed as comfortable with me as she did with him and Logan frowned.

  “Huh,” he said. “I guess that study was bunk. She seems fine with you, too.”

  I made a face at him and gave Abby back. “Ha-ha, very funny,” I said at his insult attempt.

  He laughed softly as he placed Abby back in her crib. “It looks like the little princess just wanted some attention. She’s already asleep again.” He turned and motioned toward the door. “Shall we?”

  I followed him out of the nursery and we headed across the hall. Logan’s bedroom was far less showy than Abby’s nursery. There was a lot of dark gray and black. Minimal. And surprisingly neat, too.

  “So, this is Logan Reynolds’s infamous bedroom, eh?” I said, stepping inside.

  “Infamous?” He scoffed. “I think you meant famous.”

  “No, I me
ant infamous,” I said with a smirk. “So, what are we doing here, anyway?”

  Logan went over to his computer desk and searched through a pile of books. When he found the one he was looking for, he grabbed it and walked over to the end of his bed and sat down.

  Giving the empty spot next to him a pat, he said, “Here, join me.”

  I hesitated for a moment. Sitting on a bed with Logan? Not really something I wanted to do. Ever.

  “Oh my God, Emma, don’t worry. I’m not going to try to seduce you or anything. You’re not my type.” He shook his head in disbelief.

  With a scowl, I sat down beside him and glanced curiously at the book in his hands: it was our yearbook.

  “Why did you grab the yearbook?”

  “Because I want you to sign it,” he joked with a sly grin. “But seriously, I thought it might be a good idea if we went through it and looked at all the girls Matt has ever dated.”

  My heart deflated inside my chest. There was a good chance that could take all night. Matt had dated a lot of girls in that book. “Why? So you can drive the point home that he’s way out of my league and that I should try for somebody a little more attainable?”

  “Not exactly. I’ve been best friends with Matt forever, and I know why he dated each one of these girls. I figured maybe this would give you some ideas of what you may need to change about yourself, so we can add you to this list.”

  Well, wasn’t that romantic? More and more this whole idea of Logan’s was sounding worse and worse. Still, I hated to admit I was kind of curious to know what attracted Matt to all those girls. And maybe, just maybe, I could learn something valuable.

  “Fine,” I said with a sigh. “Who’s the first girl?”

  Logan seemed pleased at my willingness to proceed. Opening the book, he flipped to the juniors first. “Okay, in alphabetical order, starting with our class: first up is Kristy Andrews.” He pointed to a picture of a perky girl with long, straight brown hair and perfect teeth. “Matt dated Kristy our Freshman year. He liked her for the simple fact her boobs grew two cup sizes over the summer before we entered high school.” He moved onto the next page. “Next up is Samantha Bridges. He dated her a few months after he broke up with Kristy. He liked her because she smoked. Of course, he thinks smoking is gross now, but when he was fourteen, he thought smoking looked cool, therefore he thought Samantha was cool.”

 

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