Emmett leans in close, his chest bumping my shoulder as he mock-whispers, “We need to work on your trash-talking skills.”
And my ability to breathe in your proximity.
I struggle to concentrate as Moretti spends a few minutes reviewing the rules—no missing more than two practices, must compete at three of the four mini-meets—before she claps her hands. “Okay, we’re going to spend a few minutes warming up and then we’ll do laps around the school property. Just for today. We’ll venture off to our usual course around Miller’s Park on Thursday—”
“Hey, Ms. M!” a female voice calls out. I turn to see Holly jogging toward us, her long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, her Eagles T-shirt hugging her ample chest, her shorts showing off toned legs. “I’m sorry I’m late. My car wouldn’t start.”
Holly is in cross-country, too?
Emmett didn’t mention that, did he?
“No problem. We’re warming up.”
“Hey, Aria!” she says, giving my forearm a gentle squeeze as she passes by me to fit in next to Emmett. “I’m so glad you’ve joined our team! Em said you’re really good. You won provincials?”
“I came in second,” I say.
“The second-fastest llama Alberta’s ever seen,” Emmett teases, grinning at me.
“Hey, you.” She lifts to press a kiss against his lips.
I struggle to stifle my groan.
* * *
The smell of stale sweat and popcorn permeates the air of Eastmonte’s arena, an old brown brick building on the other side of town.
“Just a hot chocolate.” Heather hands Cassie a five-dollar bill with an encouraging nod, but also a clear warning. “I’ll see you two in there?” Pulling up the zipper on Cassie’s hot-pink vest, Heather then heads for the rink on the right, pausing to greet a small cluster of mothers.
We head for the concession stand and the stern-looking older man running it.
The moment he sees Cassie step up, his hard mask cracks. “Finally! It’s been a long summer of not seeing that smile. How are you, Cassie?”
“Good.” She grins. “How’s Coco?”
“Coco’s good. Coco likes to chase cats.”
Cassie laughs. “Yeah. That’s because she’s a dog.” To me, she says, “I named her. She was a shelter dog and Frank adopted her.”
“That’s right. Cassie kept telling me about this small black poodle that came in. She was convinced that I needed a dog. Turns out she was right.” Frank chuckles, reaching for a paper cup. “The usual?”
“One small hot chocolate, please.” Cassie carefully places the five-dollar bill on the counter, leaving her hand on it as if it might fly away in a breeze.
“You want one, too?” His bushy eyebrows raise as he regards me and then, when he sees me waffling, adds, “It gets cold in there.”
“Sure, okay. Thanks.” I pluck a box of Junior Mints from the display and set it on the counter, then dig my money out of my pocket.
Cassie’s eyes light up. “Do you like mint?”
“I do. I love mint.”
“Me too.” She pauses, smiling at them. I see the internal battle in her eyes before she finally blurts out, “I wish I could have some.”
I can’t help but laugh. That’s the thing with Cassie—her intentions are obvious, but so innocent and simple. “Do you want to share the box with me?”
She nods in emphasis and her grin widens. “But don’t tell my mom.”
We gather our purchases, say goodbye to Frank, and make our way into the rink. The two teams are already warming up on their respective sides of the ice to the blaring music, skating in circles, firing shots on the goalie. I try to pick out Emmett but they all look the same.
A shiver runs through me from the sudden drop in temperature, and I’m thankful for the sweater Heather warned me to bring as well as the piping-hot beverage in my grasp. “Where should we sit?” I spot Heather’s blonde head halfway down the blue bleacher-style seats, surrounded by a group of other moms, laughing and talking. Mark is standing at the top, talking to a man who fiddles with a video camera.
“We can sit with Holly.”
“She’s here?” Of course she’s here. To cheer on her boyfriend.
Cassie’s blue eyes search the heads in the stands before she announces with dismay, “I don’t see her.”
“Do you know if she’s coming?”
“She’s always here. Like me.” Cassie shrugs it off. “That’s okay. Sometimes she comes late. Can you help me with this?” She doesn’t wait for my answer, thrusting her hot chocolate toward me so she can grip the rail with both hands and ease down the steep set of concrete stairs with great care.
“This is good,” she declares, settling into a chair halfway down and over a section from the cluster of parents. She then takes her drink back and peels the lid open. “Mom! We’re going to sit over here!” she hollers, earning several waves and smiles from surrounding parents. “This is AJ! She’s our new neighbor!” She points at me, spilling her hot chocolate on her pants in the process. “Oops.” She laughs and haphazardly wipes it away with a hand before dismissing it completely.
I’m fastening my sweater when a buzzer sounds and the teams race to kneel in front of a man who must be their coach.
“That’s Emmett.” She points at the gaggle of guys in helmets at the Home bench. “Number forty-four. He plays left wing?” she says as if she’s not sure, her face scrunching up. “Emmett!” She waves at their backs.
“I think he’s listening to his coach.”
“Oh, yeah, he’s not watching.” When they finally break, five guys, including Emmett, skate into position. Cassie waves furiously again, calling his name.
He throws a hand in the air and Cassie points at me. “Look! It’s AJ!” Another splash of hot chocolate hits her clothes, this time her pink vest. “Oops.” She wipes once at it before ignoring it to take a sip through her straw. I’ve never met anyone who drinks hot chocolate through a straw.
But I’ve also never met anyone like Cassie before.
A whistle blows and the puck starts flying. “Do you understand the rules?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Cassie nods vigorously, then laughs. “Actually, no. Kind of. Where is Holly?” She looks over her shoulder at the door.
Spilling hot chocolate on herself … again.
“I don’t see her,” I confirm, silently admitting that I’m okay with that. I turn my attention to the game, to watch Emmett get the puck and race for his opponent’s end, weaving deftly around the player trying to block him, and firing off a shot. It sails in, earning a round of cheers and claps from the stands.
“He’s good,” Cassie says, her head bobbing up and down as if to emphasize it.
“He is.” I feel an odd and unexpected stir of pride in my stomach. I can see why a college team would want him.
“Yeah.” Cassie grins. “Emmett’s the best.”
* * *
“Holly!” Cassie pauses in her careful climb up the stairs to wave. “We were looking for you. Where were you?”
Holly smiles from the top of the stairs. She’s wearing a stylish quilted black vest and cute boots that I instantly want. “Hey, Cassie! I didn’t think you were here! Where were you sitting?”
“Over there. With AJ.” She points to our row.
“Oh, nuts. You’re usually with your mom. I was sitting way over there.” She points with a fuchsia-painted nail toward the opposite side.
Cassie shakes her head and laughs. “Okay.”
“Next time, we’ll sit together. Promise.” Holly’s blue eyes widen with that word and then she winks at me. “That was a good game but I’ve gotta say hi and bye to Emmett and then race home to do a bunch of homework. See you both tomorrow at school?”
“Okay. Oh!” Cassie’s eyes light up. “Did you get that picture of Roger Dodger?”
Holly’s head cocks to the side. “I did. He’s so cute.” Holly flashes one last brilliant, white-toothed smile and then rushe
s past us toward the exit doors.
“I sent her a picture of Roger Dodger, from the shelter, being really silly. He’s my favorite.”
“I thought they were all your favorite,” I say absently, looking back to where we were sitting.
Wondering how Holly could possibly have missed Cassie’s bright pink vest.
* * *
Dear Julia,
I think I like Emmett. Like, REALLY like him. But maybe you already guessed that. He’s easily the hottest guy in school. Maybe on earth. The real kicker is that he doesn’t act like he knows it. And that smile … Ugh. And then there’s the whole hockey thing. I don’t even like hockey! But seeing him out there tonight, as good as he is … I don’t know. It did things to me. I need to learn about hockey.
This whole crushing-hard-on-your-neighbor-when-he’s-in-love-with-his-beautiful-girlfriend thing sucks, big time. But, at least I get to see him every day. Friendship is better than strangers, right?
I’m such a loser.
Hopelessly pining,
~AJ
9
“I’ll grab us seats,” Jen offers.
“Thanks.” I frown at the tiny ice cream cones on her shirt as she lumbers down the hall, her lunch bag dangling from her fingertips. Why does she wear clothes like that, anyway? Every day it’s something unusual. Yesterday she came to school in a shirt with a giant smiley face across the chest. People stared. They frowned. They whispered. I haven’t seen anyone be outright mean to her yet, but it’s only a matter of time. She’s a prime target for bullies.
What I haven’t been able to figure out yet is whether she cares. She must not. But I also haven’t seen her hanging out with anyone besides me and Josie, the quiet Asian girl who has said maybe five words to me total, though she sits with us at lunch every day.
Am I alienating myself in my new school and my new life, the more I hang out with her?
The girls’ bathroom is empty when I enter. I head for the farthest stall, hanging my things on the hook and fishing out my phone to send a quick text my mother.
The outer door creaks open. “… trying to get him Leafs tickets. My dad’s company has box seats so if I could get two golds for the home opener …” Holly’s honeyed voice reverberates over the tile walls. “Oh my God, Emmett will lose his mind!”
Envy pulls at my insides. She’s so lucky to have him. Does she realize how lucky she is?
“What do you think he’ll get you?” another voice asks. I recognize it from the party as Mandy’s.
This has to be about Holly and Emmett’s upcoming anniversary.
I was midway through a text to my mother, but I quickly cancel out of that and open up the camera. Emmett did say that he’d owe me big time if I could find out exactly what day their anniversary was. How much would he owe me if I could tell him exactly what Holly wanted?
I switch to video and hit the red record button.
And then roll my eyes at myself as I silently acknowledge that I’m eagerly helping Emmett impress another girl.
“Knowing him? Something to do with hockey. Like a necklace with a hockey stick dangling from it, or something like that.” She laughs. “I swear, I love the guy to pieces, but he can be so clueless.”
I cringe.
“And that’s if he even remembers our one-year anniversary. A hundred bucks says he misses it completely.”
“Mention it to his sister,” Mandy murmurs in a way that makes me picture her smearing lipstick over her puckered mouth. “You know she’ll remind him.”
“Oh, I know. Every day, until the thirtieth.”
September 30. I smile. Oh man, Emmett. I am saving your butt here.
My thumb moves for the red button to shut off the recording.
“I feel like I’ve already gotten my anniversary gift with that new neighbor of his. That AJ.”
My thumb freezes. The way my name sounds on her tongue makes my skin prickle. It’s not her usual sweet tone.
“She came to Emmett’s game last night. It was great. I hid up top on the Away side and got to watch the game in peace.” Holly’s musical laughter echoes through the bathroom, only it doesn’t sound nearly as charming. “Cassie’s finally got someone new to leech on to, so she’ll leave me alone.”
My heart is pounding in my chest as I sit on the toilet and witness Holly shed her angelic skin, unaware that someone aside from her trusted friend could be listening. “Yeah. Now if I can figure out a way to get her to stop texting me.”
“Oh my God, she still texts you?”
“Like, every day. She texts me and tags me on stupid pictures of mangy dogs on Instagram, too. I hate dogs! And if I don’t respond, she keeps texting! It’s so annoying. I don’t know why Emmett’s parents let her have a phone in the first place. Someone’s always with her and it’s not like she has friends.”
“What are you talking about? You’re her best friend.”
Holly scoffs and Mandy cackles viciously.
“I swear, if I’d known that I wouldn’t be able to shake Cassie off, I would never have gone through her to get to Em. I could’ve met him some other way. Hey, no one’s in here, right?” Holly suddenly asks, quieting.
Panic flares inside me. I hold my breath and pull my legs up, thankful that I chose the corner stall.
A moment later, “Nope.”
“Cool.”
I let out the slowest sigh of relief.
“So, what’s the story with that Aria girl, anyway?” Mandy asks.
“I don’t know, but she’s weird.”
My stomach clenches.
“Right? And she joined cross-country because of him?”
“And made up some story about winning provincials or something. I’m telling you, I’ve seen her run at our practices and there is no way. She’s so slow.”
My teeth grit together.
“Why did Emmett bring her to Zach’s?”
“He felt sorry for her. She has, like, no friends. She and her mom moved in with that old, grouchy man next door. Emmett said her parents divorced. They probably have no money.”
We have loads of money! I want to yell, my eyes burning with the cutting words. My mom’s been a lawyer for twenty years. All she ever did was work.
And did Emmett say that? That he felt sorry for me?
“Do you think she has a thing for him?”
“Oh my God, for sure she does. Who doesn’t though, right? He’s, like, the hottest guy here. And he’s all mine.” Holly cackles. “She can have his sister. They’re perfect for each other. Both weirdos.”
“And Jen Ricci.”
“Ugh! Did you see what that loser is wearing today?” Their laughter is grating.
It’s a moment before I realize the bathroom is empty once again.
My hands are shaking with anger as I shut off the recording and tuck my phone away. I knew Holly was too perfect to be real. I knew there had to be an ugly side. Everyone has an ugly side. It’s only ever a matter of how well they keep it hidden, and what makes it appear.
Has Emmett seen this side of her? Does he know that she used his sister to get to him?
Does she know how she talks about Cassie?
I wait another five minutes to make sure there’s no chance Holly and Mandy are in the halls before I collect my things and head to the cafeteria.
I find Jen and Josie in our usual area. “That took a while,” Jen says, already working on the second half of her sandwich.
I slide into my seat. “Yeah. Sorry.”
She pauses midbite and frowns. “You feeling okay? You look pale.”
“I’m fine. It’s just … it’s nothing.” It’s just that Emmett’s girlfriend is a full-fledged Regina George posing as Miss Congeniality. And she’s got everyone fooled.
“Hey, Aria!” That saccharine voice calls out from behind me.
Tension ripples through my body as I look up to find none other than Holly and Mandy standing over our table. I swallow against the lump in my throat. “Hey. What’s
up?” Did she somehow figure out that I was in the bathroom, recording her as she exposed her toxic underbelly?
She shrugs. “Just wanted to say hi. You looked great at practice today, by the way. We’re so happy to have you on the team.” The way her eyes crinkle, the way her smile takes up her whole face … it’s like she’s practiced her deception in the mirror for months, she’s that good at appearing genuine.
But I know better now.
I offer her a tight smile. “Thanks.”
“See you later. Bye, Jennifer!” They don’t even acknowledge Josie before strolling away to the other side of the cafeteria, their heads dipped toward each other conspiratorially, laughing about something. I no longer have to guess at what.
“Why don’t you tell her that you go by Jen? That you don’t like being called Jennifer,” I mimic, unable to hold the accusation from my tone. Someone needs to confront Holly about something. Anything.
Jen chews slowly—much slower than usual—which tells me she’s stalling to answer. “She knows,” she finally says, gulping down her Pepsi. She hesitates, then glances over at their table. “I’ve known Holly since I was six. We both used to live in Klemptville.” Those owlish, gray eyes regard me for moment before she shifts her attention to her sandwich in her hands. “Holly is really good at pretending to be nice. But she’s not. She’s mean and competitive, and jealous of anyone who does better in school or sports than her. She made kids cry. She made me cry, and I’m a year older than she is. Called me fat and ugly. She started rumors about me—that I still wet the bed, that I kissed my cousin, Rob.” She shakes her head, her face twisted with dismay. “I was miserable. It got so bad, I didn’t want to go to school.” Jen’s head dips lower as she admits softly, “Some days I wished I wouldn’t wake up.”
My stomach tightens.
Jen has been bullied before.
By Holly.
“We moved to Eastmonte when I was twelve and life got better. I mean, sure, there’s still jerks around here, but nothing like her. No one that mean.” Her lips twist. “And then last year, who comes strolling down the hall but Holly Webber. I nearly puked.” Her eyes flitter to me. “But when she saw me in the hall, she came up and hugged me, and told me how happy she was to see me.”
Be the Girl: a Novel Page 8
