“Nah.” I gesture toward her pajamas with my chin. “What’s not to like? I already told you you’re a badass.” Her mouth pulls up at the side and she seems pleased with my assessment. Hopefully I’ve made up for my crappy mood swing. I walk away, shooting her what I hope looks like enthusiasm over my shoulder. “See you around, Mickey.”
She gives me a brisk wave of her hand. What a sight she is, standing near the road in her Mickey Mouse pajamas with her matted hair. Damn if an honest grin doesn’t spread clear across my face.
I’M QUIET AS I enter the house, shaking my new snow globe the entire way to my room. My lips still curled as I flick the light switch on the wall and place the globe on the dresser. Hopping on the bed, I stare at the thoughtful gift and ponder Vance Davenport.
He’s hiding something. Or maybe it’s not so much hiding as it is reluctance to talk about whatever is eating away at him—because something is definitely eating away at him. The fixer in me wants to know what it is because I’d like to help. Plus, he made things better for me the other day and it would be nice to return the favor. But I definitely don’t want to push him. If and when he’s ready to share, he will.
“Ems.”
“Oh my God, Troy.” I grab at my chest. “You scared the daylights out of me.” It takes a second to catch my breath. “How did you get in?”
He plops down next to me, his weight shifting the mattress. “Your mom let me in.” He scoots over until our shoulders are touching. “So what are we doing? We are… staring at your dresser?” I snort, and he touches his head to mine. “Hold up. Is that a new addition I see?”
“Yes. In fact it is,” I admit in a happy burst that he examines with his big brown eyes.
“It’s adorable. It reminds me of the time your parents took us all to Disney and our ears popped on the plane. Remember that? You pulled out those Bubble Gum Cigarettes and the girl sitting next to you tried to take them.” One side of his mouth quirks up into a nostalgic grin and I smile. “So where exactly did you get that adorable item?”
“A friend.”
“Really?” He folds his arms over his chest. “The clock’s ticking.”
“If you must know,” I veer away from his intense stare, “Vance Davenport gave it to me.”
“Hellooo.” He wiggles his fingers in front of my face to bring me back. “First of all, I’m over here. And second, who the heck is that?”
“Mr. Hot and Angry.”
His mouth falls open and he drops his head, his expression shaded. “Really?”
“Yup.”
“Wow.” He flicks the hair away from his eyes. “I got the impression from the way you were acting that he was a real asshole.” He scrutinizes me with a click of his tongue. “I guess you were being too judgmental as usual.”
“Yeah. I was and I feel bad about it. I don’t know. I get the impression,” I twirl an unruly lock of hair, “that he has his reasons.” Twisting to my right, I sit cross-legged and face him. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about that date you went on, with…,” I stare up at the ceiling then back to Troy, “…Sam?” The funny expression on his face throws me off. “What? It wasn’t Sam?”
“Not exactly,” he admits, his hesitance making me probe further.
“Care to elaborate?”
He scrubs his forefinger over his lip, and I can’t figure out for the life of me why he’s stalling. “It was… Samantha, actually,” he finally squeaks out and I stick a finger in my ear in response.
“Come again?”
Troy lets out a long breath and mutters, “It was a girl, Ems.”
“Ooohh.” And I know he doesn’t miss the way my eyes bulge out of my head. He nods, his lips slanted almost as if he can’t believe it himself.
“Yeeeaaah. I’m kind of just as stunned as you are.”
“Stunned about what?” Avery pops into the room in a t-shirt and shorts, a towel slung over her arm. Troy glances over to me but I remain quiet. This isn’t my story to tell.
“I gotta go,” he rattles off, giving me a peck on the cheek and dodging Avery on his way out. Now it’s Avery who stares at me with a confused expression. I’m about to comment on his hasty departure when his voice carries up the stairs. “I met a girl.” The door slams and Avery’s mouth is practically level with the carpet.
“So, wait. Does that mean he’s bi—”
“What does it matter?” I cut her off, walking over and placing my hands on her shoulders before turning her around toward the hallway and giving her a push. “He’s Troy. That’s all I care about.”
“You’re no fun,” she mutters as she skulks off to the bathroom, using the same words she did when we were ten and I refused to run around naked in the sprinkler.
“I am too,” I yell back, just to act like a ten year old again.
“You are too, what?” Mom traipses into my room carrying a stack of laundry I forgot to bring upstairs. “Good morning by the way.”
“Fun,” I pout, pausing in front of my dresser, eyes trained on the carpet. “I am fun. Aren’t I?”
“Of course you are, sweetie. Are you seriously listening to your sister?” She lifts my chin with her finger. “You know she likes to get under your skin.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.” Her eyes move to a spot behind me. “You bought a snow globe. Very cute.”
I lean my hip against the dresser, staring down at it. “Actually, I didn’t. It was a gift.”