Me: maybe a little too optimistic about this one.
“I wanted to talk, Emma.” I sat on the navy bedspread. I knew Chad was at college, but it was weird how empty his room felt. Just a couple trophies on the shelves, some decorations that didn’t feel very personal (since when was Chad Anderson into duck decoys?) and dark-colored plaids on the lamps and for the curtains and throw pillows. It was like a catalog version of a guy’s room. Carter’s room still had all his high school stuff in it. All the lacrosse posters, and honors certificates, and pictures of him with various good-looking girls at various dances.
I patted the bed beside me. Emma raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. Oof.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Obviously.” She snorted. “Otherwise we would have talked already. Before you asked another girl to homecoming.”
“Emma, you know that wasn’t my choice. The producers said—”
“I know,” she snapped, waving a hand at me. “For you to stay famous you had to agree to pretend I don’t exist.”
“It wasn’t like that!” How could I make Emma understand? I had to do it. It was the first thing I’d done in years that Mom cared about. How could I disappoint her like that? And why would I? Being on TV more was a good thing, right? Plus, it had happened really fast. By the time I knew what was really going on, they were already getting me fitted for the tux. I would have had to let so many people down to say no.
I stood up and walked toward Emma. I needed her to at least look at me. She backed up until her butt was against the dark-wood desk and stared at her folded arms.
“It’s just a dance. Anyway, you told me Rachel was getting a bunk deal.”
“Yeah, but . . . I mean, why do you even want this? Just to be on TV?”
I frowned. It was like she was trying to miss the point. Kyle Bonham before this: nothing special, Carter’s failed clone. With this: somebody. Right?
“I thought you were happy for me.” My chest felt tight. I really thought Emma would come around. Faster. Not having her on my team made me nervous.
“I am, Kyle, but . . .” Emma rubbed her hands into her eyes, exhaling wearily. “You can’t expect me to be okay with it right away.”
“There’s no it. There’s just me filming some goofy segments for a TV show. That’s all this is.”
“You don’t know that!” Emma shouted. For one second she looked at me, face twisted in pain. “You don’t.” She hurried to the door, banging it open . . . right into Rachel.
Oh jeez. The first thought I had was to hope she hadn’t heard anything that would hurt her feelings. Which made me angry with myself: Rachel’s feelings weren’t the point, right?
“Sorry,” Rachel mumbled, taking a few steps backward. Emma stared, frozen in place just outside the door, eyes wide. “I needed to talk to Kyle. But obviously this isn’t a good time. I’ll find him later, or . . . it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry.” Rachel retreated. I could see her face flushing red all the way to the tips of her ears. Any other time it would have made me laugh, the idea that someone’s ears could blush.
“No, you don’t have to go,” Emma said. Her voice was tight and too high. Rachel stopped, turning to Emma with this half-confused, half-annoyed look on her face. It made me want to either laugh or go hug her. I wanted to hug both of them. Which would probably be the worst idea I’d ever had. “You and Kyle have important things to discuss. There’s no reason for me to be here.”
Emma strode past Rachel just as Jessie and Erin were starting to climb up, obviously looking for her. They met on the landing and clumped around Emma protectively, like they’d shield her with their bodies. Jessie lasered me with an angry stare, one that got even meaner when she looked at Rachel. Then she turned back to Emma. Clearly she’d heard some of my news already.
“I’ll find you later,” Rachel said. She still had that headache look. She squinted so hard her face seemed to temporarily fold in on itself. “It’s important, though. I only came to this so I could tell you in person. So please don’t leave without finding me, okay?”
She turned and started down the stairs, not looking back even when I called out, “Wait, Rachel, what’s going on?” It was like she was fleeing the scene of a crime. It did sort of feel like one.
I guess that made me the villain.
Rachel didn’t make it far, though. Before she hit the landing, Jessie squared off at her, so she couldn’t get past.
“Who said you could leave?” She sneered at Rachel exaggeratedly.
Willow was climbing up to join her friends, looking confused about what was unfolding a few feet above her. Willow always looked a little confused.
“Listen, I’m going. There’s nothing to—”
“I didn’t tell you to talk either.” Jessie took a step forward, pushing Rachel lightly on the shoulders.
Oh jeez. I was never going to get invited to Beau Anderson’s house again.
chapter twenty-nine
RACHEL