Em and Em

by Budzinski, Linda

  Marissa shook her head. “Wow. She is such a wench.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure one B won’t keep you out of NYU.” Marissa grabbed the paper from Suzette and held it up as though she were reviewing Claire’s college application. “Well, she’s taking all AP classes, has a 4.3 GPA, starred in every high school play, not to mention every grade school production since the fourth grade, cheered all four years of high school, and … uh, oh. What’s this B in her first quarter English class her junior year? Hmm …”

  “ … next!” Ember shouted.

  Marissa laughed and gave Ember a fist bump.

  “Seriously, Claire,” Suzette said. “If you can’t get into any college you want, the rest of us should drop out and start flipping burgers now.”

  The bell rang and Ember grabbed her tray. As she stood, a slight waving motion a few tables away caught her eye. Tommy Walker was staring at her. He had a huge grin on his face and was doing something weird with his hand—almost like he was conducting music, but with a bent wrist. What was that about? She turned and headed toward the exit. The last thing she needed was for him to bother her here, in front of her new friends.

  As she deposited her lunch tray on the counter, it hit her. His hand. He was making the exact same motion she’d made as she dangled Molly’s bikini top in the air.

  He’d seen the GIF.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Playing hard to get worked. When she finally messaged Zach back, he responded right away.

  Zach: Where u been? Missed u! <3 <3 <3

  She crumpled onto her bed and held her phone to her cheek. She missed him, too. She closed her eyes and recalled the first time he kissed her, that late spring evening under the pier. She’d wanted so badly all evening to feel his arms around her and to run her hands along his beautiful chest and shoulders, but when he finally made his move, it didn’t work out that way. Partly because he was a total gentleman and partly because that silly stuffed flamingo kept getting in the way.

  Ember smiled at the memory. She’d felt the soft sand beneath her feet and breathed in the hundred years’ worth of salt water that permeated the pylons. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure Zach could hear it over the roar of the waves. He’d brushed her hair away, pretending to want a closer look at her ear cuff, but then he’d lightly stroked her ear, her neck, her shoulder, finally pulling her toward him and kissing her. His lips were softer than she’d imagined, and they tasted like a mixture of sea salt and cotton candy. And all of that was amazing, but none of it was her favorite part of the kiss.

  Her favorite part was what he’d said afterward. He caressed her lips with his thumb and said, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, but I haven’t had the nerve. Think we can do it again sometime?”

  So sweet, and nothing at all like the way the other boys talked to her.

  She missed Zach, she missed the shore, and crazy as it seemed, part of her even missed those other boys and everyone who’d made her life so miserable for the past year. At least they knew exactly who she was and what she was. Here her whole life was a lie. Yes, she had some friends, but all it would take would be for Tommy Walker to share that GIF with them and her fragile little social circle would wash away faster than a sandcastle at high tide.

  Without thinking—or more accurately, without letting herself think—she dialed the phone. She wanted to hear Zach’s voice, needed to hear it. He was the only person in the entire world who knew everything about her and loved her anyway.

  “Hello? Hello?” Zach paused, then lowered his voice. “Em, is that you?”

  She hung up. Crap. She shouldn’t have done that. Of course, he would guess it was her. He’d messaged her two minutes ago. And now he had her phone number. He knew the area code and everything. Crap, crap, crap.

  She closed her eyes. She didn’t care. It was worth it. Hearing his voice—the Jersey accent mellowed by his surf-boy vibe—was worth whatever happened next. And probably, nothing would happen next. She messaged him back.

  Ember: <3 u 2. Delete that number. I could get in big trouble.

  She stared at the Twitter icon on her phone, willing it to light up. After a minute, it did.

  Zach: U got it. Wish u’d said hi. Miss ur voice.

  Ember’s eyes welled. She didn’t belong in Boyd County. She belonged back in Jersey with Zach. She needed to focus on getting home, testifying, and finding a way to put this whole mess behind her.

  ***

  Ember awoke with a start. How embarrassing. She’d fallen asleep on the team bus. She straightened and wiped at her chin. At least she wasn’t drooling. She peered around. A bunch of the kids had dozed off. It was one a.m. after all, and they’d been riding for almost five hours. Beside her Claire clicked away at Candy Crush on her phone, and across from her Charles had his eyes closed, but his left hand kept time to the song piping through his earbuds.

  Ember stretched. The french fries from their ten p.m. snack stop felt heavy in her stomach, and her back ached from the hard bus seats. Still, she had to admit it had been a fun ride.

  She’d been dreading it all week, but when she boarded the bus, she was relieved to find that Claire had saved a seat for her. She’d tucked her camera case carefully under her seat and scoped out the scene.

  The bus was about half full at that point, with cheerleaders and players sitting mixed together. A feeling of excitement and anticipation filled the air. This was their first overnight trip, and a win in tomorrow’s semi-final would mean a spot in the state championship game.

  Charles hadn’t boarded yet—not that Ember cared. She eyed the empty seat across from her. No, she was being stupid. Charles could sit wherever he wanted. It made no difference to her. She loved Zach, adored him, needed him, missed him so badly she could feel it in her bones.

  So what was up with the butterflies when Charles flopped down across from her?

  “Hey there, cat whisperer. How’s Ollie doing?”

  Ember laughed. “He’s adorable. Though I should have named him Dr. Jekyll. One minute he’s snuggled up in my lap, purring away, and the next he’s tearing through the house like some sort of whirling dervish.”

  Claire leaned toward them. “Do you still have the video? You have to show him the video.”

  Ember took out her phone and searched for it as Claire proceeded to describe the whole thing to him anyway. Ember tensed. What if she mentioned something about Oliver being found on the side of the road? Or if Charles brought up the barn? Finally, she found it.

  “Here we go.” She handed it to Charles. “That was almost a week ago, so he’s even bigger now.”

  Charles whistled. “Impressive. I think he’s outgrown the rest of the litter.”

  Ember froze. Crap. Why did he have to say that? She could feel Claire staring at them.

  “Speaking of … ” Charles said. “Do you want to adopt them, too? They’re driving my dad crazy. Running all over the—”

  “You should see the trick I taught him,” Ember interrupted. “He can fetch.”

  “Fetch? Like a dog?”

  “Yeah. His little kitty toys. He brings them back and everything.” She bit her lip and glanced at Claire. She was watching them with a slight smile and raised eyebrows, but she said nothing.

  Ember felt herself relax. Claire had the wrong idea—well, she had the right idea, though probably a sweeter, more romantic version of it—but Ember could trust her to keep quiet.

  “I’ve never heard of a cat playing fetch before. Maybe you really are a cat whisperer.” Charles leaned across the aisle, and his voice dropped. “It’s those green eyes. They’d charm any cat. Heck, they’d charm a great white shark.”

  Ember had blushed when he’d said it, and she blushed now as she remembered it. Thank goodness the lighting was so dim and Claire was absorbed in her game.

  Charles had noticed her eyes. And he found them charming.

  Ember sighed and laid her head back
in her seat. She started to drift off again, a reluctant smile teasing her lips, when something drew her out of her haze. Two players were whispering behind her—arguing—and she could swear she heard the word, “Walker.”

  She held her breath and listened.

  “We took care of it,” one of them was saying. “Let it go.”

  “Punk cannot keep a secret. He needs to learn to keep his mouth shut, or Imma shut it for him.”

  “He will. We taught him his lesson. Trust me, he’s solid. And anyway, he has as much to lose now as you do.”

  Ember drew her legs up to her chest and hugged them. Her first thought was that they were somehow talking about her, about her secrets, about the GIF. But that made no sense. No, this must be about the drug deal. And maybe it wasn’t the kinds of drugs she’d imagined. Maybe Tommy Walker was dealing steroids, and the coach was giving them to his players. His best-ever defense. That made a lot of sense.

  Not that Ember cared. She still had no interest in becoming a witness to another crime. And steroids weren’t even a crime, were they? More like breaking the rules. Whatever. It meant nothing to her.

  On the other hand, the fact that Tommy Walker couldn’t keep secrets? That meant something.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Ember frowned. Her photos were all overexposed. This was the first time she’d shot an afternoon game since homecoming, and that had been a cloudy day. Today the sun shined so brightly she had to squint even through her camera lens. The opponents’ dark uniforms and helmets showed up fine, but the Bruins players, in their white jerseys, looked like a team of ghosts.

  That was the problem with overexposure. It washed everything out—the fine lines, the subtle shadows, the delicate textures. Only the dark parts stood out. The same thing had happened to her. After Molly’s party, after her “overexposure,” it was as though everything good about her had faded to nothing. Her easy laugh, her solid grades, her killer photography skills—everything that made her Emily Slovkowski became washed out, leaving the dark stain of that night as her entire identity.

  Until Zach came along. Zach treated her like a normal human being. He reminded her of who she’d been, and who she could be. She couldn’t forget that. She had to do whatever it took to get back to him.

  “Having problems?” Marissa’s voice startled her. It was halftime, and the other team’s cheerleaders had taken the field.

  “No. What do you mean, ‘problems’?”

  Marissa shrugged. “You’re staring at your viewfinder and practically growling.” She reached for the camera.

  Ember tucked it under her arm. “It’s no big deal. A few minor exposure issues. I just need to adjust my shutter speed.”

  “That sun is wicked. You might want to check your F-stops, too.”

  Seriously? As if she wouldn’t know to check her F-stops? Ember had the urge to ask Marissa whether any of her work had ever been featured on the cover of a professional photography magazine, but of course she couldn’t. She gritted her teeth. “Will do.”

  Marissa tilted her head up and shielded her eyes. “Have you ever taken photos at the beach?”

  Ember hesitated. Had she read her mind? Had she seen the photo of her sister flying the kite and started to piece things together? “I guess,” she said finally. “Why?”

  “I’ve only been to the beach once in my life.” Marissa had a faraway look in her eyes. “A few years ago, we flew to California to go to Disneyland and then drove to LA for a couple of days. Hardest place in the world to take photos—all that sand reflecting the sun. Until it started to set. But even that sucked, because there’s no way in the world to capture the beauty of a Santa Monica sunset on film.”

  Ember nodded. She’d never seen the sun set on the water, but she’d seen lots of Atlantic coast sunrises, and she knew exactly what Marissa meant. “Some things have to be witnessed live.”

  “Exactly.” Marissa sighed and waved a pompom at her. “Gotta run. Our squad’s up next.”

  Bzzz. Ember’s phone vibrated in her back pocket. She smiled. All week long, Zach had been sending her daily messages, each one sweeter than the last.

  Zach: Thinking of you

  Zach: Miss your beautiful face

  Zach: Can’t wait to be together again.

  He really did miss her as much as she missed him.

  She slipped away to the corner of the field and scrolled through her account. He always said weekends were hardest for him. She held her breath as she clicked on the Twitter icon. What would today’s message be?

  Zach: Hey slut! Why r u sending messages to my bf? Stay away.

  Ember’s blood ran cold. What the … Someone must have hacked into Zach’s account.

  Unless … oh, no. Please. No, no, no. Tears sprang to her eyes, and her hands began to shake. Surfgurrl. Could she be on his phone right now? She imagined the sweet face that peered over his shoulder in the photo sending this hateful note. Why would she do such a thing? Why would Zach hang out with someone like her? And why, why, why was she calling him her boyfriend?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “We have a problem.” Deputy Steuben stepped past Ember into the living room before she even had a chance to invite him in.

  “What is it?” Tricia looked up from her book report.

  Their mom appeared from the kitchen, her left cheek streaked with flour and her hair pinned back into a loose bun. She was in full fall pie baking mode. “Yes, what is it?”

  “We appear to have a breach.” He gaze met Ember’s. “An internal breach.”

  Oh, no. Ember sank into the nearest chair. This could be bad. Really bad.

  Her mom turned toward her, her face almost as pale as the streak of flour. “What does that mean? How can that be?”

  Ember held up her hands, motioning for her mother to calm down. “Mom, it’s no big deal. It’s just Zach, and it’s not like he has my address or—”

  “No contact!” Her mother’s voice ranged somewhere between a bark and a shriek. “What part of ‘no contact’ did you not understand?”

  Ember shrank back into the cushions. She wasn’t used to seeing her mom angry. Worried, yes. It seemed she was constantly worrying. But not angry. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. How could she explain? She needed Zach like she needed food and air. She needed to know and believe there was one person in this world who knew exactly who she was and loved her anyway. But she couldn’t tell her mom that. Especially not now, when she wasn’t even sure it was still true. Zach hadn’t sent her a single message since that horrible punch in the gut she’d received at Saturday’s game. She had no idea what was going on, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  “So what now?” Her mom turned toward the deputy. “What do we do?”

  Deputy Steuben walked over to Ember and held out his hand. “First things first. Your phone.”

  “Wait. Really?” Ember knew she should keep her mouth shut but … crap. Her phone? She glanced at her mom, but she clearly wasn’t getting any sympathy from her.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get it back.” Deputy Steuben waited, his hand still outstretched.

  Ember reached into her pocket. She hesitated. This couldn’t be good, but she had no choice. She handed it over and bit her lip.

  He stuck the phone in his front shirt pocket. “Thank you. Next, we need to—”

  “When will I get it back?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said I’d get it back.” She was pushing it, but she needed to know. “When?”

  Deputy Steuben rubbed his eyes. “You know, when I was your age, I didn’t even have a phone. We couldn’t afford it. Even all through college, all I had was a flip phone. You’ll live. But if you must know, it’ll be two or three days, depending on how many messages you have.”

  “Meaning you’re going to read my messages?”

  He glared. When he finally answered, his voice was hard. “Actually, I’m going to have an admin transcribe them. Then I’m going to read them.
And then I’m going to delete your account.” He paused as if to let that sink in. “They’re all through Twitter, right? You didn’t contact him or anyone else through any other accounts?”

  Ember shook her head, fighting back tears. So some faceless administrative assistant and Deputy Steuben and who knew how many other people from the U.S. Marshals Service were going to read her messages. It was so unfair, so stupid. Those messages were private. They would mean nothing to anyone but her and Zach. She took a deep breath. She would not let them see her cry.

  Her mom spoke up. “So, you were about to say—next we need to … what?”

  “Well, to some extent, that depends on the messages.” He patted his pocket. “If in fact the only person Ember has contacted is Zach and his messages to her raise no threat, we don’t do much. I’ll have to step up my surveillance of your house, meaning you’ll be seeing me twice a week instead of once, and we’ll keep a closer eye on a certain witness to make sure she doesn’t do anything like this again.” He paused and gave Ember a pointed stare.

  She studied his sneakers. She should tell him about the last message, the one from surfgurrl. He was going to find out about it anyway. But how could she in front of her mom and Tricia? By now, that message had been etched into her brain and burned onto her eyeballs. She hadn’t been called “slut” in so long, she’d almost forgotten how it felt.

  “Anything you need to tell me?” Deputy Steuben asked. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  Ember glanced at her mom and sister. “Can we talk outside?”

  Deputy Steuben’s eyebrows shot up. He stood, shook her mom’s hand, and motioned for Ember to follow him. He led her out to his car, stopped, and leaned against it. “What’s up?”

  “The last message. You should read it.”

  Deputy Steuben retrieved the phone from his pocket and tapped through to her Twitter account.

  Ember kicked one of his tires. “It’s not from him. I mean, it’s Zach’s account, but he didn’t write it. No way. I think it was this girl he’s been hanging out with.”