Be the Girl

What a mess.

“I’m so sorry, Emmett. I shouldn’t have pushed you to let her come. You knew better.” What could possibly go wrong? A lot, apparently.

He shakes his head. “No, this wasn’t your fault. And it was a good idea. If I’d stuck by her like I was supposed to, none of this would’ve happened.”

If he hadn’t been making out with me by the bathroom. No matter what he says, I am partially to blame.

He looks from Cassie, to me, and then he finally reaches over to collect my hand in his, his thumb stroking my skin. “Maybe we’ll be lucky and she’ll fall asleep.”

“I can hear you talking about me,” Cassie mutters with annoyance, her eyes still glued to the TV.

Emmett smirks. “How are you feeling?”

“That cookie didn’t taste good. I’m thirsty.” It comes out in a long string, as if one cohesive sentence.

“Yeah, they usually don’t. I brought you water. It’s on the coffee table, by your head.”

She sits up and reaches for it, downing half the glass in three gulps.

“Why couldn’t you like beer instead of cookies, Cass? I could win money off your chugging skills.” His lips curve slightly.

“Because I don’t like beer.” She sets the glass down again and flops back onto the couch, her attention on the TV. “You like beer. And AJ likes beer.”

“And AJ would appreciate it if you don’t mention that to anyone because I’ll get in a lot of trouble with my mom,” I say.

“I know.”

“She’s serious, Cassie. Debra won’t let AJ out anymore if she finds out she was drinking. That’s a secret between us, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” She’s quiet for a long moment. “I don’t want Mom to know that I ate the bad cookie.”

“It wasn’t your fault, though.”

“No! She’ll never let me go to a party again!” There’s so much frustration in her voice. “I won’t be able to go to prom.”

“Prom? That’s …” Emmett’s face twists up. “Since when do you care about prom?”

“It was in that movie we saw in the theater,” I whisper. “And I explained it to her. She liked the idea of dressing up and going to a big party.”

“That’s not even … you’re only in grade ten.”

“I guess she’s planning ahead.”

“I can still hear you talking about me,” Cassie says. “Don’t tell Mom. Please.”

Emmett’s jaw clenches. “We’ll see how tonight goes, okay?”

“I think I’m fine.” Her face pinches with exaggerated thought. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not sure that I’m fine.”

“Did you eat a bad cookie, too?”

“No.”

“Then you’re better than me.”

Emmett rolls his eyes—she has a point—and slouches into the couch, as if the night has finally settled its full weight upon his shoulders.





We hear the front door open at ten minutes to midnight, and a moment later Heather’s heels click on the floor above our heads.

Emmett and I exchange a glance and then watch Cassie, who doesn’t so much as twitch. She drifted off about twenty minutes ago—whether from the marijuana or exhaustion from overstimulation, I can’t say, though it would seem that Adam’s paltry skills with baking pot cookies might have saved us tonight.

“So?” I whisper, squeezing his fingers. “Are you going to tell them?”

His lips pucker as he considers his answer, and I so desperately want to lean in and kiss them, something we haven’t done since before the incident at Mower’s. “She’s never asked me to keep a secret like that before. And she’s right, my mom will never let her out again. Not that I have a problem with that after tonight.”

The basement door creaks open and his chest rises with a deep breath. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth as soft footfalls land on the steps.

It’s Mark that appears, though.

“Hey, guys, how was your night?” His voice is low and relaxed.

“Good,” Emmett offers.

Mark bends over to peer at his sleeping daughter, his eyes dancing with amusement. “She must have had a lot of fun.”

Emmett’s eyes flicker to mine, ever so briefly. “How was the Coopers’?”

“Oh, you know. Lots of food.” Mark pats his belly. “It took your mom a little while to get used to the idea of Cassie at a party, but she finally mellowed. The wine helped.” He settles a hand on Cassie’s shoulder, giving her a soft shake.

“What are you doing? Don’t wake her up!” Emmett’s whisper is harsh—panicked.

“I can’t leave her in the basement all night. And she’s too heavy to carry, even for you.”

“I’ll crash down here with her. I’m just gonna walk AJ home. She won’t wake up alone.”

Mark shrugs, eyeing his sleeping daughter. “Not sure how I’d wake her up anyway. She’s out like a light. Too much stimulation?”

Emmett’s gaze slides to the TV. “I guess.”

“Well … good night. ’Night, Aria. And, oh, happy birthday in,” he checks his watch, “seven minutes.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

Mark is a soft-spoken man who works a lot, but when he’s here, he’s here, popping allergy pills so his daughter can borrow a dog for a few hours. He’s so different from my father, a loud man who can find the negative side to everything and missed my fourteenth birthday—didn’t even call—because he was preoccupied by his “business trip” in Banff with his paralegal mistress.

I doubt he even remembers that it’s my birthday tomorrow.





The lights in the living room are off when we reach my front door.

Is Mom upstairs in bed already? Or hiding in the dark, watching for me?

“So, tonight was … interesting.” I dig the house keys from my pocket. At least it started out great.

“Yeah.”

“How’s your hand?” I’m aware it’s the fourth time I’ve asked.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, really,” he dismisses, his attention drifting off, down the street, toward the direction of Mower’s house. Is the party still going on?

“Okay, well … I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, at dinner?”

He nods, chewing the inside of his mouth in thought before leaning down to steal a quick, chaste kiss. “I should get back, in case Cassie wakes up high and freaks out.”

“Yeah. Of course. Go.” I force a smile to hide my disappointment and watch him trot down the steps.

He makes it maybe five feet before he stops abruptly, doubles back, and jogs back to pull me into his arms.

I sink into his warm body.

“My head is scattered.” He leans down to kiss my lips softly. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry tonight didn’t go the way you probably wanted it to.”

I smooth my hand over his chest, reveling in the warmth and the hard curves one last time before bed. “I was with you so it went exactly how I wanted it to go.”

He clenches his jaw. “I just hate that Adam did that to her. It’s one thing to do something like that to me or you, but to make her a target?” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t paying attention to her like I should have been. I feel guilty.”

“She’s going to be okay.”

He nods, and then presses a lingering kiss against my jawline, just below my ear, that sends shivers through my body. “See you tomorrow.”

I watch him jog across the lawn before I step inside, locking the door behind me, finally feeling the exhaustion of tonight’s drama weigh me down.

“Happy birthday!” Mom appears at her bedroom door in her pajamas as I reach the top of the landing, a rectangular box with silver wrapping in her hands. The soft hum of the TV carries from her bedroom. “Good night?”

A small voice in my head suggests that maybe I should tell her what happened. But then I’d have to confess to this growing rift between Holly and me, and that would only spark her fear and worry.

I shift my eyes to the gift in her hand and nod.





Dear Julia,