I’m beginning to see why she didn’t room with the girl. If this is how she is every night, I feel sorry for her roommate.
“You’re sixteen. You’ll find love again,” I say. “Preferably with somebody who isn’t a complete jerk.”
“He’s not always a jerk,” Emma says, defending Bryce. “He can be a really good boyfriend.”
Uh.
Seriously.
I look at Teagan, who is shaking her head.
“I thought you were happy this summer when you and Bryce took a break,” Teagan says.
“I was. Kind of. I mean, I missed him,” Emma says. “But then he showed up at my parents’ beach house a week before school started, and he was telling me how much he loves me and how much he missed me. And I missed him, too. So much. That must mean that we’re meant to be together.”
“Look, I’m not going to argue with you about this,” Teagan says. “It’s pointless. You’ve made up your mind to be with Bryce. I’ve tried to help. I’ve talked to you about this for two years, now. This is why I can’t be your roommate. I’m sick of the Bryce drama. Either dump him, or make up with him, okay?”
“You’re right,” Emma says, wiping under her eyes. “I’m so pathetic. I just... we decided that we would date until the end of high school. We know we’re not good together, so we’re going to different colleges. But I want this time with him.”
“It’s sounds like he’s using you,” I say.
Teagan shakes her head slightly.
Again, the wrong thing to say, I guess.
“I mean... umm... what if you could have a healthy relationship in high school with somebody else?” I ask. “What if you’re wasting four years on a frog when your prince is just waiting.”
Teagan discretely gives me a thumbs up.
“I didn’t think of that,” Emma says.
“I was being serious when I said you deserve better,” I say. “I don’t know you all that well yet, but you seem nice. And maybe Bryce genuinely loves you, but he’s never going to learn how to treat you right if you constantly put up with him treating you like trash.”
TRANSLATION: dump him. He sucks.
“I know, but he promised he would change,” Emma says.
And here we go again.
“He’s been promising to change for the past two years,” Teagan says.
“I know, but he really meant it this time,” Emma says.
“If he meant it, then why are you in here crying and why is he flirting with Paige?” I ask.
Which causes Emma to sob harder.
“I think I’m just making this worse,” I say.
Teagan nods.
Yep. Definitely worse.
“I’ll just... go,” I say, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. It’s eight o’clock in California, so I am going to call my mom.
I walk down the hallway and go into the stairwell at the back of the building. Hardly anybody uses the back stairs and most of the girls are either asleep or at the docks, so I know I won’t be disrupted. I push my mom’s number and wait anxiously for her to answer.
“Hello,” my mom answers on the third ring.
“Hey, Mom,” I say.
“Phoenix, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Mom says. “How are you? How’s school? Are you making friends? Are there any cute boys? Tell me everything.”
“One question at a time,” I say. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” she says. “So does Charlie. He’s been walking around here looking so glum. The house just isn’t the same without you here.”
“I miss Charlie so much,” I say.
“Enough about that,” she says. “Let’s talk about happy things. Tell me about East Raven Academy.”
“It’s good, Mom,” I say. “The school is beautiful. And the kids are all pretty nice. I mean, there was one mean girl, but I suppose every school has them. I have an awesome roommate I actually get along with. She’s on the soccer team.”
“That’s perfect for you,” Mom says. “What about the boys?”
“There must be some kind of rule that says only super-hot guys are allowed to be admitted, because, oh, my gosh, Mom. These guys are so hot,” I say.
“Don’t tell me you already have a boy you like,” she says.
“No way,” I say. “I just got here.”
“Good. You’re too young to settle for just one guy. Date a lot of guys.”
I laugh. “You’re my mom. You can’t say stuff like that to me.”
“You’re only young once. Enjoy it,” Mom says.
“Okay, enough about my very nonexistent love life,” I say. “I should probably get off here. I don’t want anybody to catch me talking to you. I’d have to pretend that you’re Uncle Matty, and I’m just so sick of pretending.”
“Hold your head high. You can do this,” Mom says. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hang up the phone and walk back to my room before I start crying. I have to be strong. My life literally depends on it.
Sunday, August 20
Just try not to kill me. Please.
I sit with my head between my legs, trying to breathe.
Seriously, is the air in Massachusetts thinner than it is in California? Because I kind of feel like I’m about to pass out.
“I thought you played soccer,” Uncle Matty says.
He’s annoyed that I’m sitting down.