The Reeses’ cottage seemed eerily still when I emerged from the woods. No more fighting or screaming. Even the birds in the trees were quiet, as if grateful for the respite.
Mrs. Reese answered my knock, a stiff smile on her still-healing lips. “Oh! Hi, Kat.” The multiple bruises on her face had faded to a patchy yellow-gray, and her eyes, usually so bright and expressive, held a foggy wariness that would likely take months to go away.
It hurt my heart to look at her. “Hi, Mrs. Reese. How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’ve been better, but I’ll be okay.” She stepped to the side and held the door open, her left arm curling around her battered ribs. “You’re looking for Emmett, I’m guessing. He went to the store for me, but he should be back soon. Come on in.”
“Um, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll wait for him down on your dock.”
She regarded me for a moment, her eyes conveying the thoughts behind them. Please be gentle with my boy; he’s been through enough. “Sure, go ahead. I’ll let him know you’re down there.”
I thanked her and made my way down to the shore. On the dock, I kicked off my flip-flops and sat down, dipping my feet in the water. Morning may have been my favorite time of day at the lake, but twilight ran a close second. I liked to watch the sky as it evolved from blue to gray to black, seemingly in the span of seconds.
About fifteen minutes passed before I felt the dock tremble beneath me, followed by the sound of footsteps. Moments later, Emmett dropped down beside me, keeping his body a few deliberate inches from mine. “Hi,” he said quietly.
Looking at him tore at my heart even more than seeing his mom’s bruises. Every line of his body sagged in exhaustion. He looked downright defeated.
“How are you?” I asked.
He shrugged, not bothering to answer. Obviously, he’d been better too. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going home for five days?”
Even though I hadn’t been away from him for long, I’d almost forgotten how direct he was, and how much I liked that about him. Still, I stumbled over my answer. “Because I didn’t think I needed to. I mean, we’re not . . . we don’t hang out anymore.”
“Really?” He glanced down at himself and then at me, indicating that we were, indeed, hanging out right now.
“You said you couldn’t be friends with me. Just friends. ‘This or nothing,’ you said. Remember? Those were the choices you gave me.” I swirled my feet around in the water, creating tiny waves. “And then you said good-bye to me at the hospital, so I thought—”
“Wait,” he said, holding up a hand to stop me. “I said good-bye to you?”
“Well, not in those exact words, but that’s what I assumed.” I thought about the finality in his voice that night when he thanked me, the sadness in his eyes. “You agreed that our being together was more trouble than it was worth. I thought you were done with me.”
“Done,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “If I was done with you, Kat, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
And you also wouldn’t be telling Harper that you think you might be in love with me, I added in my head. I wondered if he still felt that way, or if he’d even meant it in the first place. “So what happens now?” I asked after a lengthy pause.
“Well, in two weeks I’ll go home and make sure every single thing belonging to my father is gone from our house while my mom tries to figure out if we can even afford to still live there. Then I’ll finish my last year of high school and hopefully score a decent enough GPA to go to college. Other than that, I have no idea.” He let out a breath and looked at me. “Or were you talking about us?”
I swallowed. “I guess that depends on if there still is an us.”
He looked away, tilting his face toward the sky. The dim moonlight illuminated his skin, making him look pale and almost ethereal. “My life’s too messed up right now to handle being jerked around like that again. I have a lot on my plate with my mom. She’s gotten past this before and she will again, but I’m not so sure about me. I’ll never forgive myself for not being there that night.”
“I’m sorry for jerking you around. And the reason you weren’t there that night was because you were with me instead. So let me shoulder some of the blame on that one, okay?”
“Are you kidding? If I hadn’t walked you home that night, I never would’ve stopped by my cottage in the first place. She would’ve been there until morning, bleeding on the floor. Who knows what might have happened?” He cringed at the memory.
I couldn’t stop myself from taking his hand. I understood how it was to feel that inherent duty to prevent and protect. I was also familiar with the guilt that came with it when I inevitably failed at my job. Even when that job wasn’t my burden to carry in the first place.
Emmett didn’t try to let go of my hand. In fact, he held on and squeezed. “So what happens now?” he asked, repeating my question.
I knew it was time to talk about us. If we were an us. “You’re right, you know,” I said, scooting closer to him. “You and I can’t be just friends. But I don’t think we can be nothing, either.”
He nodded in silent agreement and then lifted our entwined hands to his lips. His warm breath washed over my knuckles, provoking a full-body shiver. I realized that when it came to Emmett Reese, I was helpless to resist.
“I spoke to Harper this morning,” I said, feeling shy all of a sudden—a foreign emotion for me. I nervously cleared my throat. “She told me about your conversation the other day. And, um, she also mentioned what you said to her about me. That you think you might be in love with me?”
He lowered our hands, resting them on the rough wood between us. “I was wrong about that,” he said solemnly. “I don’t think I’m in love with you, Kat. Not anymore.”
My stomach dropped, and all of a sudden I felt exceedingly grateful that I hadn’t said out loud what I’d been pondering almost nonstop for the past week—that I thought I might be in love with him, too. That maybe we were worth the trouble. “No?”
“No.” His ankle wove around mine, linking us together beneath the water’s surface. “I know I am.”
chapter 28
Closing up the cottage for winter usually took longer than opening it at the beginning of summer. In the week before we left, my dads and I spent countless hours cleaning and storing and trying to use up all the food in the cupboards and fridge. A certain heaviness always clung to the ritual. For most people, end of summer was signified by cooler weather and back-to-school sales. For me, it was washing beach towels and cooking that last frozen chicken breast so it wouldn’t go to waste.
Because Harper and Aunt Carrie had an eight-hour drive home, they planned to leave on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend instead of stretching vacation until Monday like everyone else. As was tradition, summer with my cousin always ended in the same way it had begun, with hamburgers at Goody’s.
This time, we decided to bring along some dates.
“You look pretty,” Nate told Harper as she slid into the back seat of my dad’s BMW, which he’d let me borrow for the occasion. And because it was raining and we didn’t want to walk.
“Thanks,” Harper said with a trace of surprise. Nate wasn’t one for sincere compliments.
I peered into the rearview mirror at my cousin’s reflection and saw that she was blushing, her mouth relaxing into a small, pleased smile.
“You look pretty, too,” Emmett said, appraising me from his spot in the passenger seat. “In case I haven’t told you enough already.”
“You have, but thank you again.” I leaned over the gear shift to kiss his cheek, then used my thumb to wipe off the lipstick smudge I’d left behind. For tonight, I’d gone all out—full makeup and perfectly-flipped hair and a snug pink mini-dress that showed off my legs. This, I’d realized, was how I felt most comfortable. Sweatpants and hoodies weren’t exactly intolerable, but still. I felt most like myself in a dress.
My mind flashed back to a conversation I’d had with Emmett a fe
w weeks before, when I’d finally explained to him the reasons I’d traded soccer balls and boxing gloves for makeup and dresses, transforming myself from a sporty tomboy into what I’d presumed was a “typical girl.” His only response was to give me a strange look and ask, “Why can’t you be both?”
Exactly, I thought as I drove. Why can’t I? After all, I’d been fortunate enough to have been born into a place and an era where people were free to be who they wanted to be, believe what they wanted to believe, and love who they wanted to love.
Unlike the first time the four of us dined together at Goody’s—or in other words, the night of the Most Unsuccessful Secret Setup Date Ever Attempted—the mood felt relaxed and festive. Nate scored even more points by being completely sober and for not trying to spike our drinks with forbidden vodka. Even Harper seemed impressed, and I sensed that if he made another attempt to kiss her later, he might actually succeed. As for Emmett and me, we planned to spend our second to last night of the summer together—and maybe our last—wrapped up in that cramped sleeping bag of his, finishing what we’d started the night everything blew up. This time, we wouldn’t have that wedge of guilt between us, driving us apart.
“I’ll see you kids next summer,” Sherry said after we’d paid our bill and wished her a good night. She seemed kind of sad to see us go.
I was, too. I’d gotten kind of used to the new Goody’s, especially those smooth, pretty chairs that didn’t fuse to the backs of our legs like the old vinyl booths used to do. It would never go back to the old way, but maybe the new way could work just as well. Not all changes were bad. The only thing I still missed was that jukebox, which was definitely gone forever. Luckily, though, I’d come prepared with a suitable replacement.
Outside, it had finally stopped raining. The four of us piled into the car and I revved up the BMW’s quiet engine.
“What are you doing?” Emmett asked, watching as I plugged my phone into the USB port and scrolled down the screen.
I found what I wanted, then hit the start arrow. “You’ll see.” I kept my eyes on Harper, anxious to see her reaction to what was coming next.
We’d come a long way over the past couple weeks, but we weren’t entirely back to normal yet. Traces of tension still lingered between us, and I found myself second-guessing everything I said and did around her. But, to my relief, when those familiar opening lines blasted through the speakers, she smiled and then burst out laughing. “Yakety Yak” by The Coasters. Selection B6 on Goody’s jukebox. Our summer anthem. The song we’d been bopping around to since we were preteens, enchanted by the silly lyrics and catchy, upbeat tempo. I’d downloaded it from iTunes during a fit of nostalgia and knew I had to share it with her, one last time.
“You guys are weird,” Emmett declared as Harper and I sang along with the words we’d spent years memorizing, our shoulders wiggling to the beat.
“Dude, this is nothing,” Nate said from behind me. “They used to do the same thing in public.”
Weirdness aside, I felt about ten times lighter when the song finished. And going by the grin on my cousin’s face, she did too.
The carefree atmosphere didn’t last. That heavy end-of-summer feeling descended once again a few minutes later when I parked the car in front of Harper’s cottage. She and her mom planned to leave at dawn the next day. Aunt Carrie and I had already said our good-byes earlier, but Harper and I had agreed to save ours for after dinner.
Nate mumbled an excuse and he and Emmett got out of the car and wandered off, giving us some privacy. When they were gone, Harper moved up into the passenger seat.
“Well,” I said, tracing the steering wheel with my finger. “Operation Best Summer was kind of a bust, huh?”
She snorted. “It wasn’t the greatest summer we’ve ever spent together, that’s for sure. But at least it wasn’t boring.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “There is that.”
We sat quietly for a minute, each of us peering out the windshield at the cottage where Aunt Carrie was undoubtedly still cleaning like mad to get the place ready to be put on the market. Sherry had been wrong—she wouldn’t see all of us next summer. Not Harper, who would be at home, working to save money for her second year of school. Nate would probably be back, but I wasn’t sure what Emmett’s mom was going to do with their cottage. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to keep their house.
So, all things considered, there was no way to predict who would or wouldn’t be around next summer. The only person I was one hundred percent sure of was myself.
“Mom and I will be back to visit in December,” Harper said, her voice cracking. Then she turned to me and smiled. “So. Operation Best Christmas?”
I laughed through my tears. “Sounds like a plan.”
She reached over to hug me, locking her slender arms around my shoulders. “Have fun with Emmett tonight,” she said between sniffles. “You deserve it, Kat. And him.”
I nodded, my throat aching too much to respond. “You have fun with Nate, too. Kiss the poor boy, would you?”
She pulled back, wiping her eyes. “I guess I should. I might never get another chance to make out with the biggest douchebag at Millard Lake.” We laughed, and then she leaned in for another long hug. “Bye, Katty.”
“Bye, Harpy.”
Five minutes later we were still saying good-bye, but we weren’t in any hurry. The boys could wait.
“I think that’s all of it,” Pop said, shoving the last box of kitchen appliances into the back of the Volvo. They seemed to have multiplied over the summer, even though he hadn’t bought any new ones. “Hey, what are you doing? Leave that there.”
“Bryce, there’s way too much stuff back here.” Dad rearranged some boxes, Tetris-style, and sighed wearily. “You won’t even be able to see out the back window. Why don’t you leave some of these here?”
Pop looked stricken at the thought of abandoning his precious appliances. “I’ll just move some to the back seat. It’ll be fine.”
“There’s no room in the back seat.”
I glanced over at Emmett and rolled my eyes. I’d warned him that my parents bickered like this every time we were packing to go somewhere, but he still looked slightly taken aback at witnessing it firsthand. He wasn’t used to seeing adult couples fight in a normal, healthy way.
Finally, my dads stopped squabbling and went back inside the cottage for whatever was left to pack, leaving Emmett and me alone by the car. If they had any compassion at all—and I knew they did—they’d stay in there for a good long while. I didn’t need an audience for this good-bye.
“When are you and your mom leaving?” I asked, trying to stall the inevitable.
“Right after you do,” he replied. “I told her I wanted to stick around as long as possible.”
I turned toward him, and the next thing I knew, his arms were around me, his cheek pressed against my hair. My eyes stung with tears, but I blinked them back. This wasn’t a real good-bye. He lived only an hour away by car, and we’d already figured out a visitation plan for the coming year. We’d give each other a couple weeks to get settled in at school and then we’d start spending Saturdays together, alternating between his house and mine until winter arrived and the snow made the hour-long drive unpredictable. In that event, we’d have to settle for lots and lots of texting.
I’d miss not seeing his face every hour of every day, but once-a-week visits would have to be enough to sustain us until we started college and he moved to the city for good. Until then, Saturdays belonged to us.
“I’ll miss you,” he said when we finally stopped hugging. “And I’ll miss waking up each morning and wondering what you’re going to look like when I see you that day.”
I laughed. I was rocking one of my quintessential retro looks—black polka-dot shirt dress, pearl earrings, finger-waved hair. “I’ll keep you updated with pictures,” I promised.
He pulled me close again, his hands settling on my hips as he lowered his face to mine. Kissing
him next to my dad’s Volvo reminded me of this time last summer, when I’d kissed Sawyer Bray good-bye in the very same spot. But Emmett’s kiss was different in every way that counted. His kiss was carnival rides and fork rainbows and bonfires and sweet, awkward firsts in a too-small sleeping bag. His kiss was one I wouldn’t forget a day later.
“Oh!” I said when we broke apart. “I have something for you.”
“Something better than that?”
I smiled mysteriously and stuck my arm into the open car window, grabbing the large manila envelope I’d stored on the passenger seat. Silently, I handed it to Emmett.
“What’s this?” he asked, confused.
“Open it.”
He lifted the flap and reached inside the envelope, sliding out the thick sheaf of paper. His eyes scanned the title page, slowly widening in comprehension. “This is freaking Book Six of the Core Earth series,” he said, looking up at me in disbelief. “How in the hell did you get this? It hasn’t even been released yet.”
“Oh,” I said coyly. “I just happen to know the author.”
“You know K. B. Marks?”
“Very well, in fact.” Unable to stand it any longer, I burst out laughing. “He’s my dad.”
Emmett stared at me like I was crazier than he’d originally believed. “K. B. Marks,” he said slowly, “is your dad.”
“Yep.” I took the pages from him and stuck them back into the envelope before placing them on the roof of the car. “It’s only the first five chapters. He’ll give you the entire thing when it gets closer to publication. You’ll be the very first fan to read Book Six.”
Emmett shook his head, completely flabbergasted. “And you’ve never told me this . . . why?”
I shrugged and hit him with one of my flirty, full-watt smiles. “A girl is entitled to a few secrets.”
chapter 29
Any Other Girl Page 21