by Mindi Scott
“Anyway,” Piper says with a little shrug. “I don’t suppose you’ve talked to Alejandra?”
I don’t want to be another disappointment in her week, so I flat-out lie: “We sort of talked.”
“And?”
“And . . . I don’t know exactly what’s going on.”
I look across the gym at Alejandra, Hannah, and Liz, who are walking in together. All three of them glance up and wave. I check over my shoulder, but there’s no one there.
With big smiles and swinging ponytails, they rush over to us.
“See, that’s what Coach was hoping for,” Piper says, smiling at me. “I knew you had it in you, Future Captain.”
“Hi, Coley!” Alejandra says, as if the past three months never happened and she’s totally happy to see me.
I’m too confused to respond.
“How was your trip?” asks Liz, jogging beside me.
“You’re really going out with Reece Kinsey?” Hannah asks from Liz’s other side.
“Whistler was great,” I say, partially recovering. “Although we were maybe there for a little too long. And, yes, I really am with Reece.”
I try to look at Alejandra for a clue about the change in her attitude, but she’s on Piper’s other side. The five of us continue running together in a long row.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to meet up at Starbucks during vacation like you wanted,” Alejandra says. “I was super busy. We had all this family stuff going on and it was crazy.”
“Well, you know,” Piper says. “Texting me back to tell me would have taken you about five seconds. But whatever. If things are good with you and Coley again, that’s good enough for me.”
A whistle blows and Coach Laine calls out, “Gather around, chickadees!”
The whole dance team heads over to stand together at the front of the bleachers where Coach is waiting. Ming waves to catch my attention and her gaze darts back and forth between Alejandra and me. I lift my shoulders, ever so slightly. Ming’s mouth forms an “O” and she nods slowly, like she gets it now. Watching the realization dawning on her makes it click for me, too.
Coach says loudly, “Okay! Before we get started today, I want to check in about the Day of Repentance that we discussed a couple of weeks ago. How’d it go?” She looks around. “Anybody?”
“It went really well,” Piper says, placing one hand on my shoulder and the other on Alejandra’s as if we are her own personal accomplishments.
I’m happy to let her take the credit, but it actually belongs to Alejandra, Hannah, and Liz who put on these friendly faces specifically to fool Coach and the rest of the team.
“I think it was super helpful,” Alejandra says. “It gave us a reason to talk and get everything smoothed over for a fresh start.”
“We’re a unified team again,” Liz says. “One hundred percent.”
Their smiles are huge and fake, like they’re spoofing an energetic dance team, but Coach, Piper, and at least most of the rest of the team seems to be fooled by it somehow.
“Excellent,” Coach says, nodding. “That was the whole point. Anyone else have anything to say?”
She looks straight at me. I have nothing whatsoever to add, so I flash a big smile too.
“All right, then.” Coach claps her hands together and grins. “Let’s get some stretches in and start up on your routines, girls.”
• • •
It’s sprinkling outside after practice. Ming and I pull our hoods onto our heads as we walk through the parking lot. Practice was intense, and with all the sleep that I’ve been missing lately, all I can think about is falling into bed when I get home.
Alejandra brushes past me. “You’re welcome,” she shouts over her shoulder.
In spite of the exhaustion, my pulse kicks into high gear. If she thinks I’m going to keep putting up with this, she can think again.
“You know what?” I say to Ming, straightening my shoulders. “I’ll meet you at your car in a minute.”
She grimaces. “Are you sure you don’t need backup?”
“No, I got this.” I rush after Alejandra, calling out, “Um! Excuse me. Alejandra?”
“What?” She turns and glares.
I put on a smile as saccharine as hers from earlier. “I think you were saying something to me?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “What I said was, ‘You’re welcome.’ Because in case you didn’t know, Coach would be totally pissed at you right now if it wasn’t for me.”
“Oh, you’re talking about that little show you put on with Hannah and Liz?” I say, gesturing toward the gym. “Don’t even try to pretend like any of that was for my benefit. Coach would have been just as mad at you, and you know it.”
“At least I did something. The most effort you could be bothered to make was having Piper harass me during my whole vacation. Nonstop calls and texts. I think I even saw her drive past my house—”
“I didn’t ask Piper to do that stuff.”
Alejandra’s nostrils flare, and I realize I’ve said exactly the wrong thing.
There’s a few seconds of silence, and then she says, “That’s great, Coley. You made no effort then.”
She’s right. It seems that Piper’s wrong about which of us would make a better captain.
“What do you want from me?” I ask. “I can’t even deal with you if your whole strategy is to be fake-nice to me at practice and super-rude the rest of the time.”
“I’ll tell you what. Starting tomorrow, I’ll aim for neutral. But you’re going to need to come back to changing in the locker room and hanging out with the rest of us.”
I look down at the cement, which is black with rain. Alejandra’s and my last conversation in the locker room is what has kept me away for these past few months, and now she’s talking like it’s such a small thing.
“What?” Alejandra asks. “Like you can’t even do that much? Come on.”
I throw my hands up. “I’ll do it, okay? It’s a good plan.”
“I’m glad you think so. Because you know that I live to come up with ways to make your perfect life even easier.”
I glare at her for a long moment before walking away.
Coach Laine might be able to force us to call a truce for the team, but she can’t make us be friends again.
CHAPTER 22
After my run-in with Alejandra, Ming drops me off at home where I’m greeted by the smell of something meaty and oniony cooking, even though Mom doesn’t seem to be home.
I head downstairs to go to my room. SpongeBob is on the TV, and Bryan’s on the sectional couch with his feet propped on the coffee table and his hands behind his head. I start to rush past before he can see me, but I stop short when I spot Emma lying across his lap.
I come in closer. She’s asleep, wearing a red T-shirt, and is covered from waist to ankles with her My Little Pony blanket. I stare at her toes peeking out of her cast, her ponytail with most of the curls falling out of it, and then at my brother.
This bottom floor has been Bryan’s and mine—our bedrooms, our bathroom, our TV room—ever since the triplets took over our old rooms upstairs when they were toddlers. Now Bryan’s down here alone with our little sister.
“Where is everyone?” I ask. “What’s going on?”
Without taking his eyes off the TV, Bryan says, “Tony’s working late, and Mom took the boys to some karate pizza-party thing. Emma was too tired to go with them, so we’re kicking back.”
He’s acting like there’s nothing out of the ordinary here, but him spending time with any of the triplets is totally not normal. And this. Couch cuddling with Emma. This has never happened in our lives.
“If she’s this tired, maybe she should be put to bed,” I say, dropping my bag beside the coffee table.
“Yeah. I didn’t want to wake her, though. Kid’s had it rough lately.”
And he started paying attention to her when exactly?
“I’ll help you carry her,” I say.
<
br /> “Coley, she weighs, like, fifty pounds.” There’s an edge in his voice now. “I can handle it.”
Right then, Emma sits up on the couch, stretching. The blanket slips and I breathe easier at the sight of her reindeer pajama pants. Relief at this moment is completely illogical, though, since he’s had her here alone since whatever time Mom left.
Emma yawns so hugely that I can see down to where her tonsils used to be. “I’m hungry. Can we still get Jack in the Box for dinner?”
“You got it,” Bryan says, smiling at her. “Ready to go?”
I say, “But isn’t there food cooking upstairs?”
“So?” he asks.
“Mom left roast in the Crock-Pot,” Emma says to me, scrunching up her nose. “Bryan said he’ll get me something else, though. Do you want to come with us?”
I don’t, but the thought of them going somewhere alone is weird on too many levels, so I agree to it.
• • •
Ten minutes later, we’re in the Valley, pulling up to Jack in the Box. Emma didn’t feel like changing her clothes, so she’s still in pajamas and bundled up in a fleece jacket. Bryan helps her out of the backseat, and we walk with her while she slowly maneuvers on her crutches into the restaurant.
The greasy smell from the parking lot isn’t as strong inside. “You get the food and I’ll sit her down,” I tell Bryan.
“Yes, Miss Bossy,” he mutters.
At the table, I help Emma onto her chair and sit across from her. “When did Mom leave with the boys?”
“After school.”
I glance over to where Bryan is standing in front of the cash register, and then back at my sister. “So what all did you and Bryan do before I got home?”
“Watched SpongeBob and Batman.”
“What else?”
“Umm.” She bites her lip. “Oh, yeah. Pokémon one time.”
“No, I meant, what else did you do besides watch TV?”
She shrugs. “Nothing.”
I watch her carefully, looking for a clue about whether she’s telling the truth. She doesn’t seem to be acting different than usual, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you,” Emma says. “The doctor said that swimming might be good for me to start in a few weeks, but no karate for a long time.”
“I guess that worked out,” I say, trying to use a light tone.
She smiles. “Kind of.”
Bryan comes to the table and sets down a tray covered with little packages of food, one coffee, and two pink milk shakes. He sits beside Emma and places one in front of her. “Strawberry, by special request,” he says.
He grabs the coffee for himself, which means that the other shake is for me. I’ve never ordered strawberry in my life. Bryan knows better than anyone that even though the cookie pieces always clog up the straw, Oreo is my very favorite flavor.
“How’s it going with the crutches?” Bryan asks, peeling off the top of a marinara packet. “Seems like you’re getting steadier all the time.”
Emma nods. “The problem is that people keep borrowing them. I almost peed my pants during recess because Madison wouldn’t give them back.”
“Next time, you have to crawl after her and take her down.” Bryan grabs a mozzarella stick for himself, and then holds out the box for Emma. “For me, the only good thing about breaking my ankle was that all these cute girls took turns carrying my books to class.”
“Nobody does that for me,” she says.
“Figures,” Bryan says. “Fourth-grade boys are stupid.”
Emma giggles and takes a bite.
I busy myself with unwrapping a burger. I don’t know for sure if it’s mine, but it’s here and I’m here—even if my brother wants to pretend that I’m not.
I should be glad that he’s being nice to Emma and not making her feel like he cares less for her because she’s “just a half.” Instead, I’m uneasy. He’s never avoided me for days at a time. He’s never deliberately tried to hurt my feelings. Watching him with Emma now—the way he’s smiling at her and she’s smiling back—is like seeing him with a curly haired, miniature me. The difference is that she isn’t used to having his attention and I’m not used to not having it.
My phone chimes with a new text from Reece.
Reece: Save me! I’m stuck at dinner with my parents and this guy’s asking if we had a pet polar bear in Alaska & if we could see Russia from our house.
Me: Next he’ll be asking if you lived in an igloo!
“And there goes Coley with those texting fingers,” Bryan says to Emma, rolling his eyes.
So I exist again. I tuck my phone away and go back to my burger. “Speaking of texting fingers,” I say. “Are you ever going to respond to Piper?”
“You mean crazy-stalker chick? I’m thinking, no.”
This isn’t the sort of thing we would usually talk about in front of any of the triplets, but I don’t care right now. “You knew that this would happen, so why did you kiss her the other night?”
“Isn’t the better question, ‘Why did you kiss Noah?’ ”
I don’t know how he even could have seen that since it happened in the blink of an eye. “Technically, I didn’t—”
“Noah!” Emma exclaims. “What about Reece?”
“It wasn’t a real kiss,” I tell her. “Just like the kind you’d give Mom, you know? Super fast.” I look at Bryan again. “Anyway, I don’t go into Noah’s bathroom and put on his cologne or permanently borrow his sweatshirts like Piper used to do with you, so it’s totally different.”
“Wow, I never knew Piper did all that stuff,” Emma says. “She’s weird.”
Bryan nods. “She definitely is.”
I glare at him, and he looks away. I go back to eating without another word.
• • •
I’ve been in bed for two hours. I heard Bryan close his own door right after midnight, but I still can’t sleep. He could get in here easily if he wanted to—there isn’t a lock on my door and I’m not bold enough to prop a chair or anything under the door knob—but he hasn’t tried even once since we got home from Canada.
Maybe he regrets what he did that last night at Whistler. Maybe he’s scared like I am that he’ll go further next time. The furthest.
Or maybe.
Maybe he isn’t coming to my room because he’s been going to Emma’s.
I sit up.
No. He wouldn’t do that. I have to believe that. He isn’t.
What if I’m wrong, though? It started with us because of my bad dreams. Because I needed him to comfort me. Right now, Emma needs someone to take care of her. Bryan should be a safe choice because he’s her big brother. But he’s my big brother too, and by the time I was nine like Emma, his hands and mouth had already explored my entire body. No one would have guessed. All these years later, they still wouldn’t.
I can’t let it happen to her. Pushing myself out of bed, I grab my pillow, gather blankets, run upstairs, and throw myself onto one of the couches.
As I lie there and my heartbeat gradually slows, I listen to the ticking clock. There’s no way Bryan will risk coming up here. Not for me. Not for Emma.
CHAPTER 23
Four days later, Tony is pouring coffee when I come up to grab breakfast at six forty-five. “Did you sleep on the couch last night?” he asks.
He already knows the answer. He caught me when I was gathering my bedding to take back downstairs this morning.
“Yeah,” I say, pulling a bowl from the cupboard. “I accidentally fell asleep.”
“And your pillow and sleeping bag accidentally made their way to the couch with you too?”
I don’t know what to say. There is no logical reason for me to be sleeping up here. Nothing that I can tell him or anyone else, I should say. And it isn’t even like this couch is super comfy or there isn’t a perfectly good TV downstairs. Unless I say that Bryan and I couldn’t agree on what to watch. . . .
“Don’t take t
his the wrong way,” Tony says, “but your mom and I have noticed that you’ve seemed kind of run down for the last week or so.”
“Thanks a lot.” I force a laugh as I add water to my oatmeal packet, and put the bowl in the microwave. “I’ve been tired, getting back into things with school and practice and everything.”
It’s all true, but Reece and I have also been texting until three a.m. for the past couple of nights while I keep an eye out for Emma. Now we’re both having to resort to Starbucks quadruple shots to keep from sleepwalking through school.
“You mentioned that you had a nightmare at Whistler,” Tony says. “Is that still going on?”
It’s nice that he cares, but I don’t want to talk about this. What’s going to stop him from asking me these questions? What can I say to make him put this out of his mind? Because this is over, as of this morning. It’s finally Friday, and I’m staying the night at Ming’s. By tomorrow night Bryan will be gone and everything can go back to normal
“I’ve had a few bad dreams,” I tell Tony, “but it isn’t a big deal.”
“Maybe it is, though. Maybe it’s a sign that you’re stressed or, I don’t know. I don’t know much about psychology. But you could talk to someone. A therapist—”
“No!”
“—or your mom or Bryan?”
“The whole truth,” I say, “is that I watched a scary movie at Piper’s a couple of weeks ago and it’s making me all weird at night.” I wave my hand Jedi-mind-trick-style. “There’s nothing to worry about, though. These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”
He smiles like I knew he would, but it fades quickly. “You’ve always been sensitive to horror movies and such. Maybe you should make it a policy to not watch them.”
“Or maybe I should watch them more to desensitize myself.” I pull my oatmeal out of the microwave and pour milk over it. “What time is Bryan’s flight tomorrow?”
“We ended up just cancelling it. He said he brought home most of the stuff he cares about anyway, so we’ll pay his roommate to ship the rest of it home.”