by Amber Garza
PLAY SAFE
Amber Garza
Cover: Matt @ The Cover Lure
Copyright © 2015 Amber Garza
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
For information: ambergarza.com
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
CHRISTIAN
EMMY
Author’s note and acknowledgments
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
To my brother, Matt, the real Coach Hopkins. Thank you for all your help. I couldn’t have written this book without you.
EMMY
Four. That’s the number of times I’ve caught Josh in a lie since we’ve been together. Once for every month of our relationship. And tonight makes five. My gaze hones in on him standing in the middle of the open field with his friends Chase and Nolan. A fire pit roars in front of them, casting an eerie orange glow on their faces. Nearby, several girls giggle incessantly like they’re watching a show at a comedy club. Then they glance in Josh’s direction as if trying to catch his attention. My stomach sours.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to my best friend Ashley.
She nods, her long bleached blond hair shimmering in the moonlight. “I’ll go see if I can find a drink.” I’m not surprised at her response. Ashley never turns down an opportunity to party. “Holler if you need me.”
After she saunters off, I stalk over brittle yellow grass, making my way toward the fire. Josh doesn’t even notice me, but his friends do, and their eyes widen. I glower down my nose at them, crossing my arms. Responding to his friends’ frantic and not so subtle pointing, Josh finally cranes his neck in my direction.
“Em, what are you doing here?” Josh asks, as if I’m the one who did something wrong.
At his accusing tone, I feel a little of my earlier bravado wither. The girls clustered near the fire, turn toward us, their eyes alight with curiosity. The last thing I want to do is get into a fight with Josh in front of all these people. I glance down at the beer in his hand, then up at his glazed eyes that tell me this isn’t his first one. Arguing with Josh when he’s drunk is never a good plan, but I can’t help it. I’m angry, and I want answers. I’m tired of all the lies. Besides, why does he even want to date me if half the time he’s lying in order to get out of spending time with me?
“You told me you had a baseball thing with the team tonight,” I state.
“I do.” Josh shrugs, glancing around. “This is it.”
I nod my head toward the girls. “Are they on the team?”
Josh shakes his head, one side of his lip curling up. Then he spreads out his arms in front of him. “Hey, I can’t control who’s going to show up to these things.” His friends chuckle like he made some hilarious joke. Or maybe they think I’m the joke. Most likely it’s the latter.
“But you can control whether or not I come, right?” I snap.
When darkness flashes in Josh’s eyes, I realize my mistake. “Clearly I can’t.” He steps closer to me. “How did you even know where I was? Are you stalking me or something?”
“Stalking you?” I laugh bitterly. “Are you forgetting my brother’s on the team? I overheard him talking to Christian about this party.”
Josh blinks. “But Cal’s not here. He had a date or something tonight.”
Ah, I get it. He thought he was safe because he knew Cal wasn’t coming tonight. Anger rises, and along with it so does my voice. “I shouldn’t have to find out from my brother where my boyfriend is. I mean, is this the kind of girl you want?” I point to the girls who are staring at Josh and I like we’re a damn movie they came to watch. Seriously, they don’t even pretend not to eavesdrop. At least Chase and Nolan have the decency to turn their backs and act like they’re having their own conversation. “You want girls like that? Because if so, then be my guest. We can just break this whole thing off right now.”
Josh puffs his chest out, his forehead crinkling. As he narrows his eyes, his lips press together into a hard line. I’ve seen this side of him before. There’s a fire simmering just below the surface of his skin, and if I’m smart, I’ll back off.
And I am smart. Really smart. In fact, I’ve been in honors classes since elementary school. My dad used to call me his “little genius.” I always test way beyond my grade, and I always get straight A’s. But that’s book smarts. Street smarts are a completely different thing. My brother Cal has that. He may not get the best grades, but he knows how to behave in social situations. And he can read people in a way I’ve never been able to.
“Josh is bad news,” Cal told me after he found out Josh had asked me out. It was only a week after Josh joined the baseball team.
“You don’t even know him,” I argued back.
“I don’t need to know him to tell what kind of guy he is,” Cal responded.
But I didn’t listen. Josh was the cutest, most popular boy who had ever asked me out. And I wanted to believe the best about him. Besides, he seemed like a nice guy.
And he is. Sometimes. Sort of.
“Don’t challenge me.” Josh’s hand clamps around my upper arm. It stings, and I bite down on my lip. His mouth moves close to my ear. “You want to push me, Em. I’ll push right back.” He tugs me away from the fire. Away from his friends and the girls who have been watching us with rapt attention. And suddenly I long for the audience again. Josh is mad. I can feel anger radiating off of him in waves. He has a short fuse, and I’m concerned that tonight I may have pushed him a little too far. Darkness envelopes us the further we walk. Finally Josh stops, his hand still on my arm. “How dare you come here and embarrass me in front of my friends.”
I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I don’t get why you keep lying to me.”
“I didn’t lie to you.” His tone is hard, and he doesn’t bother loosening his grip at all. My whole arm feels tingly now. “I told you I was going out with my friends and I did.”
“You made it sound like it was a guys only thing, but clearly it isn’t.”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you. You’re not my mom. You’re my girlfriend. And honestly, after tonight, I’m not even sure I want you to be that.” He drops my arm with such force, I almost fall over.
But it’s his words that have the most impact. “What are you saying?’
“I’m saying I don’t need this shit,” he spats. “I can have any girl I want. You think I’m gonna stay with someone who’s needy and whiny and can’t give me any room to breathe?”
His words are like a sucker punch to the gut. I take a wobbly step backwards.
“You don’t mean that,” I say, hoping he’ll take it back. Hoping they’re nothing more than words said in anger. Words with no real meaning. The kind of thing you blurt out and then immediately regret.
“I do mean it. You’re acting like a fool.” He glares at me, and my lips tremble.
I hug myself, running my hands up and down my arms. “I don’t want to be with you every minute of every day.” He snorts. “God, if you can’t learn to give me some space, I don’t think this is going to work out.”
Desperation blooms inside of me. What have I done? I catch Josh’s dark eyes and step toward him. Reaching out, I attempt to touch his face in order to soften him up. I remember the way he kissed me so tenderly in the parking lot after school today. The way he flashed me one of his heart-stopping smiles when I got in my car and drove off. That’s the thing about Josh. He can be a jerk, but he can also be incredibly charming. His charisma is unmatched. Everyone wants to be close to him. And I’ve gotten closer than most. Before this year, Josh went to a private school. All anyone talked about at the beginning of this school year was the hot new boy at Prairie Creek High. I think everyone was shocked that I was the one who snagged him.
So, then why the hell was I screwing that all up by acting like a needy girlfriend? Josh is right. He doesn’t need this. He’s entitled to a night out with his friends. Besides, it’s not like he was even talking to those girls. “You’re right,” I say, backtracking. “Let’s forget the whole thing.” My fingers graze the dark stubble dusting his chin. A minute ago I was so angry with him, but now I want nothing more than to kiss his full lips, to feel his arms around me. To know that he still wants me.
He swats my hand away, and it’s like a splash of ice cold water on my face. I recoil.
“Just go home. You’re acting crazy. We’ll talk later.”
“You can’t be serious.” I lunge toward him, trying to grab his arm. He’s been upset with me before, but normally he forgives me quickly. Sometimes I feel like I have whiplash from how fast he switches emotions.
He shoves me back. “I’m dead serious.”
“Hey,” a familiar voice booms from over my shoulder. “What’s going on?”
Great. And I thought this night couldn’t get any worse.
A warm hand lands on my arm. “You okay, Emmy?”
I gaze up into the eyes of my brother’s best friend Christian. The boy who was the focal point of every fantasy of mine for most of my childhood. It wasn’t until Josh and I got together that I was able to temper my attraction for Christian. Well, maybe not completely, but at least I don’t think of him constantly the way I used to. Of course, it doesn’t help that Christian has practically lived at my house since he and Cal met in fourth grade. It seems I can’t get away from him. I cringe, wondering how much of my conversation with Josh he overheard. Christian already thinks of me as a little girl who can’t take care of herself. He and Cal have made it their life’s mission to protect me from all the things they think I can’t handle. This is going to make everything so much worse.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“Yeah, Chris,” Josh says wearing a tense smile. “I’ve got this handled.”
“It doesn’t look like you do.” Christian’s hand slips from my arm and he takes a giant step toward Josh. When I’m alone with Josh it’s easy for me to feel like he’s larger than life. Next to my tiny frame he appears bigger than he is. But Christian towers over him. Not only is Christian a year older than Josh, he’s filled out in places Josh can only dream of. Muscles ripple across his chest and down his arms, his shoulders are broad, his chin and face chiseled and manly. Gone are the traces of a teenage boy. This year Christian has transformed into a man. Which I guess is inevitable. He is almost eighteen. “If you ever lay your hands on Emmy again, you’re going to regret it. The only reason I’m not shoving my fist in your face right now is out of respect for her. But trust me, I won’t be so generous next time.”
Josh opens his mouth like he might say something, but then closes it swiftly. Smart move. I’m pretty sure Christian won’t give him another chance. Josh shakes his head, throwing me a look of disgust before turning around. I assume he’s going to stalk off, but he pauses, pivots, and smirks at Christian. “Hey, say hi to your mom for me.”
My stomach drops. Why the hell would he say that?
Christian fists his hands at his sides, and steps in Josh’s direction. “What did you say?”
I hold my breath, knowing that if Josh utters another word he’s toast. A part of me wants to see that, but the bigger part of me wants to go home.
Josh takes a step backward, holding up his hands in surrender. “Nothin’.” Then he hurries away. I would laugh if my heart didn’t hurt so badly.
“What a prick,” Christian mutters.
“He’s just drunk. He didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I don’t care. He shouldn’t have brought my mom into this,” he growls, and I feel bad for even attempting to defend Josh. I know how close Christian is to his mom, and Josh is the last person who should be mentioning her.
“Sorry about that, but you didn’t need to talk to Josh at all. I could’ve dealt with this on my own,” I mutter sullenly as Christian turns in my direction.
He flashes an amused smile. “Yeah, I can see that.”
I frown, but feel a little satisfaction in knowing that I made him smile. At least he doesn’t look like he’s seconds away from popping a fuse anymore.
“Hey.” Christian reaches out, lightly touching my shoulder. “You all right?”
When I look up at him, I think about how many times I’ve dreamt of this moment. I used to lie in bed at night and conjure up all these scenarios between me and Christian. And many of them ended like this. Him sweeping in and playing hero for me. But I know this isn’t a fantasy. He isn’t doing this because he has this deep undying love for me. He’s doing this because Cal isn’t here to protect me. And when Cal’s not around, Christian acts like my brother. I swear the two of them have some type of pact when it comes to me. But still, I’m grateful that he stepped in. I’m not sure I could’ve taken anymore of Josh’s hurtful words tonight.
“I told you I’m fine.” I breathe in deeply through my nose and out my mouth in an effort to steady myself. One. Two. Three breaths. That’s how many it usually takes. My heartrate slows in response.
“You sure?” The corners of his eyes crinkle in concern. “Because I heard what he was saying to you, and--”
Another wave of embarrassment crashes over me. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay? I just want to go home.” At this moment I’m regretting coming here at all. When I showed up I imagined I would find Josh, call him out on lying to me, he’d apologize and we’d end up partying together. But everything went terribly wrong.
Story of my life.
“I’ll take you home.” Christian runs a hand over his short light brown hair. I can’t help but gawk at the way his arm muscles bulge with the motion. He’s the catcher for the Prairie Creek Panthers varsity team. He and my brother have been playing together for years. Him catching, my brother throwing. And every game I attend, I become mesmerized with the way Christian’s arms look when he catches and throws.
“Um…no. I came with Ashley, so I should probably leave with her.” Looking over Christian’s shoulder, I scan the field for Ashley. The party has grown since I got here, so it takes awhile to locate her. When I do, it’s clear she isn’t driving me anywhere. She’s standing in the middle of the field holding a red Solo cup in her hand and dancing to a beat that only she can hear. Her blond hair whips around her face as her body gyrates. Some foamy liquid sprays out of her cup and dribbles down her arm. Yep, that’s my best friend all right. Always the life of the party.
Christian raises an eyebrow. “Looks like I’ll be driving both of you home.”
“It does appear that way, doesn’t it?” I groan.
CHRISTIAN
Emmy hasn’t said a word since we dropped off Ashley. She sits in the passenger seat, staring out the window, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her lips curl downward. Cal constantly teases his sister about how talkative she is. He says that it’s easy to tell when Emmy’s upset. It’s when she’s quiet. As I drive throu
gh the streets of Prairie Creek under the backdrop of night, I miss Emmy’s stories. I miss her laugh. I miss her smile. Sure, I’ve often joked about how annoying it is that she talks nonstop, but honestly I find it soothing. I’ve gotten used to it. Besides, it’s part of who she is. This silent, sullen girl beside me isn’t Emmy at all.
Anger thrashes in my veins when I think of the cruel things that asshole said to her tonight. It makes me glad I decided to attend the party after all. When I found out Cal wasn’t going, I figured I’d skip out too. But at the last minute I changed my mind. I didn’t have anything better going on anyway. The minute I saw that loser yelling at Emmy, I knew I’d made the right choice. If Cal wasn’t there to protect her, then it was my job to do it. That’s the way it’s always been. I have Emmy’s back – for Cal’s sake.
At least that’s what I tell myself. But deep down I know it’s more than that.
When I glance over at Emmy, her gaze is fixated upward at the stars. My lips tug at the corners. “How many so far?”
Her head snaps in my direction, and she knits her eyebrows together. “What?”
“How many stars have you counted?” I press my foot on the brake, slowing as we near a stop sign.
“Twenty-seven,” she speaks softly. “How did you know that’s what I was doing?”
“I know a lot about you, Emmy.” She has no idea how much. I know she thinks when I look at her I only see my best friend’s little sister, but she’s wrong. I see so much more than that. Peering over at her, my gaze catches on the jagged scar weaving around her thumb. The memory of how she got it leaps into my mind.
Cal and I were in middle school and we were headed up to the park to throw around the baseball. Emmy begged her mom to let us take her. On the walk there, we passed a stray dog. Cal stuck out his arm to protect Emmy from it, but she brushed his hand away.
“He’s not dangerous,” Emmy protested, moving around her brother. She was like that. Always stubborn. Always independent.