“We’re watching a movie in the basement, tonight,” Cassie declares. “AJ, do you want to watch with us?” She nods, as if coaxing me into saying yes, her eyebrows arched with hope.
“Zach’s having people over. You should come with me,” Emmett throws out, taking a gulp of his milk. “You can meet a few people from school.”
Did Emmett just invite me to a party?
“Are his parents going to be home?” Heather asks.
“Of course,” Emmett says with his focus on his plate, in a way that doesn’t sound at all convincing—at least not to me.
“I don’t know …” my mom begins, wariness in her voice.
“I want to go to Zach’s, too!” Cassie bursts. “Can I go?”
Heather spears Emmett with a knowing glare.
He sighs heavily. “It’s mostly the hockey team, plus the music will be too loud. You wouldn’t have fun there.”
“Yes, I would!” She insists with a determined set of her jaw. “Zach’s my friend, too!”
Is he, though? Cassie calls everyone her friend.
“Hey! What about our night?” Mark jumps in, gesturing between himself and her. “I thought we were going to get banana splits at Dairy Queen?”
Cassie frowns deeply. “I didn’t know that.”
“I can’t believe you forgot. Don’t bail on me, kid.”
Something tells me Cassie wouldn’t forget something like a trip for ice cream. Something also tells me it’s meant as a distraction and a bribe, a treat that Cassie won’t pass up.
“Can AJ come?”
Mark shrugs, glancing at me. “Sure, if that’s what—”
“She’s coming to Zach’s with me,” Emmett cuts in.
“Hold on. I didn’t approve that,” Mom says.
“Mom.” I stare at her, trying to convey with my eyes how badly I want to go. If I miss out on a night with Emmett, I will never forgive her.
“Maybe you should spend some time with Cassie tonight,” she says softly.
“It’s just a small group of kids from school, Mrs. Jones,” Emmett offers in a cordial tone.
“Call me Debra, please.” Her lips purse as she studies my pleading eyes. “Is this a gathering that would be suitable for my fifteen-year-old daughter?”
“Almost sixteen,” I clarify through gritted teeth, my cheeks burning.
“No drinking,” Emmett promises.
She gives him a flat look. “I’m not naïve.”
He holds his hands in the air. “I have a game tomorrow so I’m driving and coming home by midnight.”
I can see the struggle within Mom’s eyes.
“If there’s one thing my son takes seriously, it’s being well rested for his games,” Heather adds, and I silently thank her for the motherly seal of approval.
Mom takes a deep breath. “Fine. As long as she’s with you and you’re home by eleven.”
“Mom!”
“Eleven is fine.” Emmett smirks. “I can use the extra sleep.”
I let out a long, shaky breath, struggling to keep my excitement at bay.
That’s when I notice Cassie is staring at her plate with a crestfallen face. Heather’s hand is smoothing over her back in a comforting manner, her pained eyes flickering to Mark.
What must it be like for Cassie, to be told she can’t go to a party, but meanwhile I’m going with her brother? I’m technically only three months older than she is. How many times has she been told no to going out like other teenagers do?
Guilt for choosing the party with Emmett over a movie with her overwhelms me.
I think fast. “Hey, Cassie, do you want to go to the movies tomorrow afternoon to see that one you mentioned?”
Her eyes widen and then light up, the party at Zach’s temporarily forgotten. “Teen Queen? I really want to see that.”
I know. She’s only mentioned it every day this week. “Do you want to go with me?” I have no idea what it’s about, but I saw the name on the marquee as Mom and I passed the theater today and I thought of Cassie.
She looks to Heather, a strange—almost terrified—expression on her face. “Can I go?” she whispers.
Heather’s shoulders sag with relief. “Of course. That sounds like a great idea.” She flashes an appreciative smile at me. “I can drop you two off.”
“Alone? You mean, just AJ and me?”
“Yes.”
Cassie, already beaming, lets out an excited squeal that earns Uncle Merv’s grimace. “Oh Lord,” he grumbles.
I can’t help but laugh as I meet Emmett’s gaze.
To find his soft smile as he regards me.
* * *
The engine of Emmett’s SUV is already running when I rush across the lawn, five minutes late, adjusting the collar of the navy-blue boatneck shirt I threw on.
“Hurry up, before Cassie and my dad get home.” His wary eyes are on the street as I slide into the passenger seat.
“I thought she was okay with this?” I fasten my seat belt, discreetly inhaling the clean scent of his cologne. Emmett has changed too, into a pair of dark-wash jeans and a charcoal-gray T-shirt that clings to his torso without being too tight.
“She is, but if she sees us leaving, she’ll forget how excited she is about tomorrow and focus on what she’s missing tonight. And then she’ll cry that she’s being left out and I’ll feel like an asshole.” His voice sounds heavy as he puts the car in drive. “That was nice of you, by the way, offering to take her to the movies.”
I shrug. “I don’t have any plans tomorrow.”
His mouth curves with a secretive smile.
“What?”
“Nothing, just … you’ve never watched a movie with Cassie before.”
“Why? What happens?” I ask warily.
“Nothing bad.” He laughs. “You’ll see.”
I’m distracted from pushing for more information by my mom’s silhouette in my bedroom window, watching us drive away. My guess is she’ll be hunting for my journal as soon as we’ve rounded the corner. I don’t think she’ll find it. I tucked it under a loose floorboard I found under the desk while I was dragging furniture around to paint the walls. It’s a pain to fetch, but it was the best hiding spot I could find.
“Kind of surprised your mom didn’t change her mind about letting you out.” Emmett makes a right turn at the end of our street.
“Oh, she did. That’s why I was late. I had to pry the shackles from my ankles. Thank God for that hacksaw Uncle Merv keeps by the door.”
Emmett chuckles.
“Seriously though, he keeps a hacksaw behind the front door.” Mom questioned him about it the other day. He said it’s to trim all the damn branches.
“She seems a little overprotective.”
“Yeah. It’s the move,” I lie. “And she has a lot more time on her hands to worry right now. I’m sure it’ll change when she goes back to work. So how far away is Zach’s house?” The street has led us out of town, where there are no street lights save for side road markers. I haven’t ventured out this way yet.
“About ten minutes out.”
“Who’s going to be there?”
“Mostly guys from hockey.”
“So does this Zach guy play with you?”
“Not anymore. We used to, but he wouldn’t make my team now. He plays on the school team. You’ve seen him with me. He’s the blond guy I hang out with.”
I frown in thought. “I don’t think so?” Though, I don’t pay much attention to anyone else when Emmett’s there.
“He’s seen you, that’s for sure.”
A nervous twinge stirs in my stomach. “What does that mean?”
Emmett smiles, showing off that deep dimple. “Let’s just say he’s happy I’m bringing my cute new neighbor tonight.”
I look out my window at the dark fields as my face burns with Emmett’s words. Is he simply relaying what his friend has said about me? Or echoing his own thoughts?
An awkward silence ensues.
Emmett dials the music up a notch. “It’ll be fun. Holly and a few of her friends will be there, so you can get to know them, too.”
Disappointment flares at the reminder that yes, Emmett has a girlfriend and yes, of course she’s going to be there. “How long have you guys been together?” I ask casually, though I already know the answer. I’m more curious about how he’ll answer it—does he like talking about his girlfriend? Or is he like other guys I’ve known who shrug off the topic?
“Almost a year. If you can find out the exact date for me, I’ll owe you big time, because I forget. I know it was September. She was like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah. The new girl in school.”
“Oh. Right.” New and blonde and beautiful, with that honeyed voice and sweet smile. Not exactly me. “She’s nice,” I offer, because what else do I say?
He smiles softly. “Holly’s great. Cassie introduced us. I can’t remember how they met but the next thing I knew, we were at the fall fair together.” He snaps his fingers. “That’s when we hooked up. It was the last weekend of September, but I can’t remember if it was the Friday or the Saturday.”
“You have a few weeks to figure it out.”
“Yeah.” He pauses. “What are you supposed to get your girlfriend for your one-year anniversary, anyway?”
“I have no idea.” I’ve only had two boyfriends, for a total of four weeks of “dating” experience. The first one treated me to a McDonald’s burger, the other one got me high on weed. My guess is Holly wouldn’t go for either of those gift ideas. “Jewelry, maybe? Like a charm bracelet or necklace?” That’s what my friend Denise got from her boyfriend Dennis—worst name match ever—after they’d been going out for six months.
“Yeah. Maybe.” Emmett bites his bottom lip in thought. “Like a little hockey puck or stick or something, to remind her of me.”
I laugh. “Wow. You really like hockey.”
His deep, shiver-inducing chuckle fills the car.
* * *
“Farmer … what’s up!”
“Harty!” The tall blond guy who opened the front door claps hands with Emmett, then backs up to allow us into the impressive two-story brick house, surrounded by corn and hay fields. Apparently Zach’s family owns, like, half the land around the outskirts of town. Some they’ve sold off to developers—and made a killing—while other plots are actively farmed.
Hence Zach’s nickname.
His blue eyes lands on me, a twinkle of curiosity in it. “AJ, right?”
“Aria. But sure. Hey.” I do recognize him from the hallways. He’s hot—with a square jaw and playful grin, and pretty eyes framed by long lashes. He’s the same height as Emmett and solid, though not nearly as fit. If not for my instant infatuation with Emmett, I’d probably be crushing on him.
“I’m Zach.”
“I figured that out.” I blush as I recall Emmett’s cute-neighbor comment on the way here.
He holds up a bottle of beer. “Want one?”
“I’m good for now, thanks.” My eyes flash to Emmett—he shrugs and tugs a can of Coke from the six-pack he brought with him. I guess he didn’t lie to my mom. He’s not drinking.
Where are Zach’s parents, anyway?
Kicking the door shut with his heel, Zach leads us toward the back of the house with a leisurely stroll, the hum of music and laughter growing louder. “Did you hear that Gibby broke his leg?” he says to Emmett.
“Yeah. In like three places. He’s out for most of the year. Sucks bad.”
I tune out what I assume is hockey talk as we step into a double-story living room, my eyes furtively scanning the group of twenty or so teenagers. Most are faces I could pick out of the hallways at school.
Including Holly.
She’s sitting on the far end of the couch, sandwiched between the girl she lunches with and another pretty blonde. The second her eyes land on Emmett, she’s off the couch and skipping over, wasting no time wrapping her arms around his waist, molding her body to his.
“Hey, you. What took you so long?” She mock-pouts, lifting on tiptoes to press her lips against his.
I look away, unintentionally to Zach, who rolls his eyes but then grins.
She finally peels her mouth from his to flash a brilliant, white smile at me. “Hey, Aria! Glad you could make it.”
“Thanks. Yeah. Me too.”
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have to borrow this guy for a sec.” She pushes Emmett, forcing him to step backward toward a hallway, a sly smirk curving her lips as she peers up at him.
Emmett’s hands are in the air in surrender, as if he has no control, but he’s grinning.
“I guess I’ll see you later, bro.” Zach shakes his head. Under his breath, I catch “like rabbits.”
And I feel my body sink with disappointment that he’s leaving me alone out here, that he would invite me out and then abandon me so quickly, with a bunch of people I don’t know.
Zach sucks back a gulp of his beer, then nods toward the couch. “Come on, AJ. Let me introduce you to some people from school.” He points to a guy with a shaved head and sunken cheeks. “Have you met Mower yet?”
7
Dear Julia,
It’s midnight and I can’t sleep, so I figured I’d write to you.
Tonight was fun, even if I spent most of it watching Zach and Mower play PS4 hockey. I’m still not sure what his real name is, or why they call him Mower. I asked Zach and he shook his head and smiled secretively, which tells me I probably don’t want to hear that story.
Which makes me want to hear that story.
If Zach does think I’m cute, either he changed his mind or he’s shy. He didn’t try anything on me, and let me tell you, that’s a relief because I don’t know if I would want him to. Sure, he’s nice, and hot, and funny. But I just didn’t feel that thing. You know that thing … when you meet eyes with a guy you like, and then they smile at you, and you have to remind yourself to breathe?
Like when Emmett looks at me.
Speaking of Emmett, he and Holly were gone FOREVER. And when they came back, Holly’s hair was messed up and Emmett seemed sleepy. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Holly was “borrowing” him for. I can see how those rumors Jen was talking about got started. It’s because they’re true.
Still, when Emmett finally joined us, he sat down on the other side of me and the first thing he asked was if I was good, if I was having fun. And when everyone was razzing him for leaving so early, instead of telling them he had to get me home by my curfew, he took the fall and said he was tired.
He’s so nice.
And so DAMN gorgeous (I think Uncle Merv is rubbing off on me).
I can’t wait for our run on Monday morning.
~AJ
* * *
“How was the movie?” Heather asks as I slide into the back seat, her attention on Cassie.
“It was so good. I ate a lot of junk,” Cassie announces proudly.
“Why am I not surprised.” She waits for Cassie to fasten her seat belt, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Did you enjoy it, Aria?”
“It was okay.” I study the two-screen, 1950s retro movie theater on Eastmonte’s main street, wishing I had done a little more research about the movie before offering to go. At least now I know what Emmett was smiling about in the car. Cassie cannot stay quiet through a movie. Granted, it’s to ask questions about what’s going on, and then to ask follow-up questions on the explanations I gave her. But she also asks questions that make me stop to wonder how much she truly understands. Over and over, I had to reassure her that, yes, these are all actors; yes, the dog is a paid actor; no, he doesn’t have any lines; yes, this is all fake; no, this isn’t a real prom.
Thank God the theater was mostly empty and we were sitting far enough away from people that we didn’t irritate anyone. Still, if it had been a movie I was interested in watching, I’d be annoyed.
Heather pulls out. “What was your favor
ite part of the movie?”
“The dog.”
I laugh, because Cassie’s so predictable.
She giggles too and says in that slightly stilted, exaggerated way of hers, “I know, AJ. I like dogs. And cats. I like animals.”
Heather reaches out to pat her daughter’s arm. “What about the parts that have nothing to do with animals?”
I can see the reflection of Cassie’s face in the side view mirror. Her face is twisted up like she’s giving this serious thought. “I liked it when the girl went to prom. Prom is a big dance. Have you heard of it?”
Heather smiles. “Yes. I know what prom is. My school had a prom.”
“Does my school have a prom?”
“As far as I know. I think I heard Holly saying something about Emmett’s prom.”
“When is mine?”
“It’ll be the same time, I guess? Spring of your senior year?”
Which will be when, exactly? Emmett said that Cassie would likely be in high school until she’s twenty-one.
“Are you going, AJ?” Cassie asks, catching me off guard, though I should have expected that question.
“Maybe. It’s too far away to plan.”
“I think I’ll go to prom,” Cassie announces with certainty.
Heather’s eyes leave the street long enough to offer her daughter a soft smile. “You want to get all dressed up?”
“Yeah.” Cassie nods. “Except I’m not wearing high heels because I’ll fall.”
“You don’t have to wear high heels,” Heather assures her.
“Yeah … and I’ll have to find a date,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Or not. You can go alone.”
There’s a long pause. “I don’t want to go alone.”
“Well, then, maybe you can go with Dillon.”
I recognize that name. Cassie has talked about him on our walks home. He’s a boy with autism in her class.
Cassie shrugs. “Dillon doesn’t like music. I don’t think he’s going.”
“Okay, well, maybe Emmett could take you.”
Be the Girl: a Novel Page 6
