Be the Girl

I smile to myself as I dive onto my bed and pull out my phone. I have hours of math and biology homework to do tonight. But for now, I need a few moments to stare longingly at the screenshots of Emmett’s face that I stole from Holly’s Instagram.

Only to see that Emmett has sent me a follow request.

Butterflies stir in my stomach as I approve it, bumping my total follower count to two—the Hartford children.

He hasn’t added any new pictures, but I spend a few minutes scrolling through his feed anyway. On impulse, I switch to Holly’s, curious to see if she’s posted anything post-breakup. If she has finally acknowledged it.

All the pictures of Emmett are gone.

Every last one of them. She has combed through her collection and removed all traces of her ex-boyfriend.

Maybe that means she’s finally moving on.

Maybe she’ll stop trying to murder me with her eye-daggers.

I smile at the tacky stars above my head. Tomorrow is my first cross-country mini-meet, against Baylor Oaks Secondary School. And tomorrow night I’m going to the Fall Fair with Emmett.

And Cassie and Zach.

But … Emmett.

I’m still smiling up at my ceiling twenty minutes later when the front door creaks open. My mother’s home.

I brace myself.

“Aria!”





Swirls and flashes of blue, green, and red neon carnival lights compete with the steady stream of brake and headlights, as cars slowly snake in and out of the Fall Fair parking lot—nothing more than a grassy field in the middle of nowhere, along dark, quiet roads. Traffic controllers in fluorescent orange vests wave batons, directing us down the long, bumpy makeshift laneway to the available spots.

I find myself smiling at the chaotic scene as I climb out of the back seat of Zach’s car, fragments of a distant memory resurfacing—of me, dangling from my father’s hand, my other hand gripping a bag of cotton candy, of our laughter. Long before he decided he wanted a new life, a new family. Does he take his stepdaughter, Charlotte, to the fair?

I’m sure he’ll take my half-brother, Teddy, when he’s old enough.

I push those dark thoughts aside because I have a new life, too, and so far it’s shaping up to be everything that I could ever want.

“So, what’s your favorite ride, AJ?” Zach tugs on his black toque and zips his jacket. A bitter cold front blew in last night, bringing with it a forecast of single-digit temperatures and the threat of frost, according to Uncle Merv, who is fretting over his pumpkins and squash, and whatever is left in the garden that my mother hasn’t managed to bake into a loaf.

“I don’t think I have one?” I huddle in my quilted vest, wishing I’d worn a hat, and peer up at the Ferris wheel. “Not that.”

Emmett grins down at me. “Why? You afraid of heights?”

“No,” I deny, too quickly to hide my lie.

In the next moment, he’s stooping to wrap an arm around my thighs, and then I’m off the ground and falling over his shoulder. I squeal with a mixture of surprise and delight, all while demanding that he put me down. Cassie’s howls of childish laughter carry through the parking lot.

He sets me back down again with deft hands, so fast that it takes me a moment to regain my balance. I stumble a touch, and he grabs onto my shoulders.

“Sorry. I forgot you had the meet today. Are your legs sore?”

“No. They’re fine.” They’re tired. Tomorrow they’ll be sore. But if Emmett wants to throw me over his shoulders, I’ll gladly let him.

I placed third, which isn’t first but it also isn’t fifth, which is where Holly landed, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy beating her, even if she’s on my team. So much for me being “so slow.”

“Good.” He grins and I lock my legs before my knees buckle.

“Hey, guys, I am not going in the haunted house,” Cassie declares, fussing to adjust her scarf and mitts. It’s the fifth time she’s said it since Zach pulled into our driveway tonight.

Emmett hooks an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. “We know, Cassie. We know.”

Her joyful giggles blend into the carnival sounds.





“Can I try again? Please?” Cassie’s eyes are on the bug-eyed, pink-and-white stuffed animal dangling from the hook as she pleads with Emmett, the strip of game tickets gripped tightly within her fingers, as if afraid she’ll lose them to the breeze.

“Yeah, but this is the last shot, Cass. We’re out of money for games.” He adds with a grumble, “We could have bought three of them for what we spent on trying tonight.”

With a determined nod, she hands the skinny middle-aged guy behind the counter five tickets—for the fourth time—grinning at him as he sets three softballs in front of her.

“You know the drill,” he mumbles, his hands tucked into the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, his bored gaze rolling over the crowd. He doesn’t look particularly happy about being here, though I’m guessing the life of a traveling carnival operator isn’t a particularly easy or glamorous one.

“I have to get two balls in,” she confirms as she lifts the first one.

It lands in the woven basket, earning her squeal of glee.

“Okay! See? You can do this! Just one more.” I watch the man’s attention flitter to Cassie, studying her. He can tell she’s different. But can he tell what a big deal it’d be for her to win? Does he care?

The next two balls do a lap inside the basket before spiraling out.

Cassie’s shoulders slump with disappointment. And so do mine, I realize. Unlike this guy, I did really want to see her win.

I catch the guy’s cold, gray eyes and ask, “Hey, what’s that thing about fourth time’s the charm?”

He looks at Cassie and then out to the crowd, and I’m ready to lead her away so she doesn’t have to hear him tell us to beat it, that she lost fair and square.

But then he reaches below the counter to grab one more ball, and he sets it in front of Cassie. “Make it count, kid,” he warns, offering nothing more than the smallest of nods my way.

“Oh. Okay.” Cassie picks up the ball. I’m not sure she comprehends what just happened—that she’s getting a free shot.

She tosses it at the woven basket.

It does a lap before settling inside.

“Hey! You did it, Cassie!” Emmett cheers from behind.

“I did?” Her face is serious as she looks from him to me, to the ball, to the guy. “Did I win?”

“Which one do you want?” The game operator asks by way of answer, throwing a thumb at the stuffed animals.

She doesn’t miss a beat, thrusting her hand forward to point out the cat-fox thing, her gray-blue eyes bright, the smile on her face contagious.

Even the man’s stony face cracks for a second as he tosses it to her waiting grasp, just before he slaps an “on break” sign on the counter and ducks away.

“I can’t believe it! I won!” Cassie holds the stuffed toy up to examine it closely before hugging it close to her chest.

I meet Emmett’s coffee-brown eyes then, and my heart stutters at the soft look in them as he regards me. “Thank you,” he mouths.

I shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Meanwhile, blood is racing through my veins.

Zach wanders up, shoving a fluffy wad of blue cotton candy into his mouth. “You win that, Cass? Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Her grin somehow grows wider.

“Way to go. High five!” He holds up a hand and she meets it with a resounding slap of hers. “So, where to next? Haunted house?”

The smile falls off abruptly. “I’m not going in there.” She punctuates the refusal with a vigorous shake of her head.

Zach laughs. “I know. I was only kidding. You don’t have to.” He holds his bag of cotton candy out for her to take some. “AJ and Emmett will go. You and I can hang out here.”

“Is AJ scared?” she asks Zach. She does that sometimes, I’ve noticed—ask questions about people as if they’re not there. It’s usually when she’s too excited to focus.

“I don’t know,” Zach says patiently. “But she’s standing right beside you, so you should ask her.”

She turns to me, her eyes bright with amusement. “Are you scared, AJ?”

“No.”

“Oh. Good.” Her attention veers back to her prize, wrapped tightly within her arms. She’s smiling at it as she warns, “Watch out for that man.”