“Not for another”—I check a clock on the wall—“three hours.”
“Just practicing.” He leans in to press his lips against mine in a teasing kiss and my knees weaken.
“Wait … what?” Cassie exclaims, and we turn to see her staring at us. Her eyes flip from our faces to the bottles in our hands, and to our faces again—as if she’s trying to decide if us kissing or us drinking beer is more bewildering.
Emmett’s free hand curls around my waist, pulling my body against his.
“Oh, you didn’t know about them yet?” Zach grits his teeth as his player loses the puck. “Your brother stole AJ from me.”
“He did?”
“No.”
Cassie grins. “You’re joking.”
“I am joking.”
She considers us another moment and then mutters, “’Kay, whatever.”
“Exactly, Cass. Whatever.” Zach jabs at his remote control with feverish thumbs. A loud chorus of curses explodes as his opponent—I think his name is Ben—throws his remote on the couch and climbs out of his seat, heading for the fridge, an empty beer can dangling from his fingers.
“Get over here so I can finally kick your ass at something, Harty.”
With one last kiss that makes my legs wobble, Emmett joins the fold.
* * *
“No, no, no, no … ah!” Emmett tosses his remote and sinks into the couch beside me with a groan, as a round of raucous cheers erupts. His hand slips over my knee to casually rest on my thigh.
“Time to give someone else a shot.” Zach turns to Cassie. “Want to try and beat me?”
“No. It’s okay.” She shakes her head, her eyes flickering across the faces surrounding us. People have been trickling into the apartment over the past hour and, where it was once eight of us, there must be forty people milling in here now, everyone save for Cassie drinking. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to bring attention to herself.
The door creaks open and Emmett curses under his breath, his jaw tensing. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
A quick glance and I see why. Holly’s there, arm in arm with Adam.
“That guy is such a dick,” he mutters.
“Jen told me you fought him?”
“He told Cassie that there was no such thing as Santa Claus last year. I know, she was fourteen and it was probably time someone told her, but he did it to hurt her.” Emmett glares at the stocky guy. “We were friends for years. We played on the same team. Our families hung out a lot. But I got better and he didn’t, and they cut him. He got pissed that I didn’t drop down a division to keep playing with him.” Emmett shakes his head. “I can’t believe she’d go after him.”
“Do you care that Holly’s with someone else?” Jealousy flares inside me with the possibility.
He seems to consider that. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say it’s weird to see her with someone else, but no. She’s not the person I thought she was. At least we’ve both moved on.” He leans into me. He’s downed three beers already and his body is relaxed against me. “Maybe she’ll see us and leave.”
If only … “Is the bathroom down that hall?”
With Emmett’s nod, I squeeze his knee and head for it, thankful it’s available.
I take my time, checking my makeup and clothes, fluffing my waves, hoping Emmett’s right and she’s gone by the time I come back.
Something tells me that’s not likely to happen, though.
I reemerge to find Emmett waiting in a casual pose, his back pressed against the wall, his hands in his pockets.
“All yours.” I gesture behind me.
“I like the sound of that.” With a grin, he herds me against the wall in the corner, his face dipping into my neck, the smell of his body wash and shampoo teasing my senses. His lips skate across my skin, sending my blood racing through my veins. “How much longer do I have to wait?” he whispers, his grip on my waist tightening.
“Uh … I …,” I stammer as my body tenses. Is he asking what I think he’s asking? “I’m not sure?”
“Two hours left till midnight?”
It dawns on me that he’s talking about my birthday, and I release a nervous laugh. “Oh. Yeah. Just under.” It’s ten after ten now.
He pulls back. “Wait. What did you think I meant?” A moment later, as if replaying his words and realizing, his eyes widen. “Oh, shit. No. That’s … no. I’m not asking for that. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to—”
“I do, too,” I blurt out, but quickly add, “just not yet.”
“Yeah. Not yet.” He brushes a strand of hair from my face, swallowing hard, hesitating. “Is it because … I mean, are you …” His jaw tenses as he fumbles awkwardly around the personal question.
It’s so endearing to see Emmett not confident about something for once that I can’t help but laugh. I decide that I don’t mind him knowing—I want him to know.
I nod.
A soft smile touches his lips as his fingers thread through my hair. “That’s okay. There’s no rush.” He ropes his arms around my shoulders, the weight of them welcomed. Stooping to press his forehead against mine, he whispers, “You having a good time?”
“Yeah. But I’ll have a good time anytime I’m with you.”
That earns me a sweet, soft kiss on the lips.
“Are you crazy?” Zach’s booming voice explodes over the hum of voices and music. “Why the hell did you give that to her?”
We peel away from each other and turn to find Zach squaring off against a smug-faced Adam.
“What?” He shrugs. “She wanted one.”
“Of course she wanted it. She thought it was just a cookie!”
I know without a doubt who the “she” they’re referring to is.
Cassie is on the couch, her face stony as her eyes flicker, surveying the situation and trying to read the sudden tension in the room.
Emmett has picked up on it, too. “What’s going on?” His tone has taken on a razor-sharp edge.
Zach’s normally carefree demeanor has been replaced by a stiff stance and a mixture of rage and apology on his face. “I went outside for a few minutes and this shithead thought it’d be a good idea to give your sister one of his cookies.”
One of his … oh God.
My stomach drops as I realize what’s going on.
This is not happening.
“Are you …” Emmett’s eyebrows climb halfway up his forehead. “You’re kidding, right? This is a joke. Right?”
Adam shrugs. “It’s gonna be funny in about an hour.”
He barely has time to get his hands up.
Emmett moves fast, lunging at the smug asshole, taking him and a table lamp down in the charge. And then his fists are flying with abandon, pummeling Adam’s face over and over.
Shouts erupt and people circle.
My heart pounds like a jackhammer in my chest as I’m torn between wanting Emmett to hurt this guy and not wanting him to get himself into trouble.
Until I spy Cassie, in her spot, her face contorted with confusion and terror, her body trembling, fat tears streaming down her cheeks. Looking … traumatized.
“Zach!” I jerk at his arm. “You need to stop this now. Look at her!”
One glance at Cassie and he’s diving for Emmett, his arms going around his chest.
Meanwhile, I’m shoving people out of my way to reach her.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks.
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
“Is Emmett mad at me?” Cassie’s mouth is shaped in a perfect pout.
“No. This wasn’t your fault.”
“Okay.” She nods, but the tears keep flowing.
Zach and two guys are herding Emmett backward, away from Adam. A trickle of blood runs from one of Emmett’s nostrils and down over his mouth, but otherwise he looks fine, save for his bloody knuckles and his torn shirt collar.
“Let’s go,” he barks, his tongue touching his upper lip. He lifts t
he hem of his shirt to wipe at his face. His torso is heaving from his rapid, heavy breaths.
I grab our jackets and help Cassie up as Adam hauls himself off the floor, staggering slightly, his left eye already swelling shut, his nose a mangled mess. He leans over to spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor. “It was only five grams, dickhead.”
Emmett points at him in warning. “If I hear one word about hitting you from anyone, I’ll be telling the cops that you’re drugging fifteen-year-old special needs kids. We’ll see if you think five grams is no big deal then.”
“Did I do drugs?” Cassie’s eyes widen as panic sets in. “I did drugs? What’s going to happen to me?” Her bottom lip wobbles. “Am I going to die?”
“No.” A laugh escapes me, though none of this is funny. “You’re going to be fine.” I put my hand on her shoulder as I lead her toward the door and, while she stiffens, she doesn’t shrug away. “You might feel funny for a bit. You might even laugh a lot.” God, I hope that’s all that happens. What does marijuana do to a mind like Cassie’s?
“I feel funny,” she declares.
I smile softly. “It’s going to take a while for you to feel anything.” Glancing over my shoulder to see how far Emmett is behind us, I catch Adam and Holly in the corner. Holly’s hand is smoothing over his bicep, as if consoling him. Meanwhile, he’s snapping at her. Angry with her about something, it would seem.
She glances over, catches me watching her, and quickly averts her gaze to the floor.
And I can’t help but think she’s the one who put the idiotic idea in Adam’s head. The person who knows how much Cassie loves sweets, how easily she’d be convinced to take it.
But is she that cruel? Or is she that drunk and caught up in the moment of revenge?
Either way, the fact that she’s talking to the jerk now speaks volumes.
“Ready?” Emmett comes up behind me, still seething.
I hand him his jacket.
“Emmett?” Cassie stands at the top of the staircase.
“Here.” Emmett shifts around me to take the steps down, until he’s directly in front of Cassie, ready to break her fall if need be.
“I’m feeling kind of funny now.” Cassie ducks her head and wipes away her tears as we pass people. But their eyes are on Emmett—on his bloody fists, on his torn collar, on the silent rage emanating from him.
“No, you’re fine. You won’t feel funny yet,” I assure her again.
“We need to tell Mom.”
“No!” Emmett smooths his hand over his forehead. “Just let me think for a minute, Cassie. And next time, don’t eat cookies that someone gives you at a party!”
“I’m sorry, Emmett.” She sobs. “This is all my fault!”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s not your fault. It’s mine, for bringing you here.”
And mine, since I’m the one who convinced him it was a good idea.
Is that what he’s thinking right now? Is he angry with me?
Knots form in the pit of my stomach.
“I don’t want to go to a party ever again,” Cassie whispers, her shoulders hunched, her head bowed.
He sighs. “I don’t blame you.”
20
Emmett sets the bowl of chips on the coffee table and then sinks into the couch beside me.
Tension radiates from every inch of his body.
“What did you tell them?” I dare ask.
“That we came home early and all three of us are watching a movie downstairs.”
“And …?”
He steals a glance at Cassie, who’s curled up on the couch beneath a blanket, her attention locked on Spiderman’s form as he swings between buildings on the TV screen. The ten-minute walk home felt like ten hours, a true test of patience, with Cassie stopping every twenty or so steps to announce with panic that she felt funny, and Emmett and I needing to convince her that she was fine. She retreated into her own world as soon as we came down here and has been quiet ever since, as if the walls and familiar setting have sedated her.
He shakes his head. “Not yet. I figured I’d let them have fun for a bit before I ruin their entire weekend. I’m still hoping there wasn’t enough in it to do anything major. Adam makes them himself and he’s an idiot. I wouldn’t be surprised if he screwed up the measurements.”
That could go one of two ways—too little, or too much—but I don’t bring that up. Still, it’s been almost an hour and there’s no droopy eyes or uncontrollable giggling fit, or paranoia. No sign of Cassie being stoned … yet.
The first thing Emmett did when we got home was change his shirt and wash the blood from his face, and Adam’s blood from his knuckles. I note the bruises forming. “Maybe you should put some ice on that.”
“I’m fine.” He stretches his fingers, setting his hand on his thigh. “My mom is going to lose it.”
“I can’t picture your mom losing it.” Heather, with her soft smiles and her patient sighs. Then again, I have heard her sharp tone a few times. Still …
“My mom is calm and level-headed until it comes to Cassie. She already wants nothing to do with the Levic family after what happened last year. And now, with this? I won’t be surprised if she calls the cops. But then who knows what’ll happen to me for beating the hell out of him.”
What a mess.
“I’m so sorry, Emmett. I shouldn’t have pushed you to let her come. You knew better.” What could possibly go wrong? A lot, apparently.
He shakes his head. “No, this wasn’t your fault. And it was a good idea. If I’d stuck by her like I was supposed to, none of this would’ve happened.”
If he hadn’t been making out with me by the bathroom. No matter what he says, I am partially to blame.
He looks from Cassie, to me, and then he finally reaches over to collect my hand in his, his thumb stroking my skin. “Maybe we’ll be lucky and she’ll fall asleep.”
“I can hear you talking about me,” Cassie mutters with annoyance, her eyes still glued to the TV.
Emmett smirks. “How are you feeling?”
“That cookie didn’t taste good. I’m thirsty.” It comes out in a long string, as if one cohesive sentence.
“Yeah, they usually don’t. I brought you water. It’s on the coffee table, by your head.”
She sits up and reaches for it, downing half the glass in three gulps.
“Why couldn’t you like beer instead of cookies, Cass? I could win money off your chugging skills.” His lips curve slightly.
“Because I don’t like beer.” She sets the glass down again and flops back onto the couch, her attention on the TV. “You like beer. And AJ likes beer.”
“And AJ would appreciate it if you don’t mention that to anyone because I’ll get in a lot of trouble with my mom,” I say.
“I know.”
“She’s serious, Cassie. Debra won’t let AJ out anymore if she finds out she was drinking. That’s a secret between us, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” She’s quiet for a long moment. “I don’t want Mom to know that I ate the bad cookie.”
“It wasn’t your fault, though.”
“No! She’ll never let me go to a party again!” There’s so much frustration in her voice. “I won’t be able to go to prom.”
“Prom? That’s …” Emmett’s face twists up. “Since when do you care about prom?”
“It was in that movie we saw in the theater,” I whisper. “And I explained it to her. She liked the idea of dressing up and going to a big party.”
“That’s not even … you’re only in grade ten.”
“I guess she’s planning ahead.”
“I can still hear you talking about me,” Cassie says. “Don’t tell Mom. Please.”
Emmett’s jaw clenches. “We’ll see how tonight goes, okay?”
“I think I’m fine.” Her face pinches with exaggerated thought. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Well, I’m not sure that I’m fine.”
“Did you eat a bad cookie, too?
”
“No.”
“Then you’re better than me.”
Emmett rolls his eyes—she has a point—and slouches into the couch, as if the night has finally settled its full weight upon his shoulders.
* * *
We hear the front door open at ten minutes to midnight, and a moment later Heather’s heels click on the floor above our heads.
Emmett and I exchange a glance and then watch Cassie, who doesn’t so much as twitch. She drifted off about twenty minutes ago—whether from the marijuana or exhaustion from overstimulation, I can’t say, though it would seem that Adam’s paltry skills with baking pot cookies might have saved us tonight.
“So?” I whisper, squeezing his fingers. “Are you going to tell them?”
His lips pucker as he considers his answer, and I so desperately want to lean in and kiss them, something we haven’t done since before the incident at Mower’s. “She’s never asked me to keep a secret like that before. And she’s right, my mom will never let her out again. Not that I have a problem with that after tonight.”
The basement door creaks open and his chest rises with a deep breath. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth as soft footfalls land on the steps.
It’s Mark that appears, though.
“Hey, guys, how was your night?” His voice is low and relaxed.
“Good,” Emmett offers.
Mark bends over to peer at his sleeping daughter, his eyes dancing with amusement. “She must have had a lot of fun.”
Emmett’s eyes flicker to mine, ever so briefly. “How was the Coopers’?”
“Oh, you know. Lots of food.” Mark pats his belly. “It took your mom a little while to get used to the idea of Cassie at a party, but she finally mellowed. The wine helped.” He settles a hand on Cassie’s shoulder, giving her a soft shake.
“What are you doing? Don’t wake her up!” Emmett’s whisper is harsh—panicked.
“I can’t leave her in the basement all night. And she’s too heavy to carry, even for you.”
“I’ll crash down here with her. I’m just gonna walk AJ home. She won’t wake up alone.”
Be the Girl: a Novel Page 21
