Any Other Girl (18 page)

chapter 23

T
he remainder of the week floated by like a dream, one I dreaded the thought of waking up from. My days were spent with Emmett, mostly hiding from the rain in either his cottage or mine, whichever one had a “parent present.” We watched movies, played video games, and sneaked in some alone time whenever we could. On Thursday, I helped his mom make some candles while Emmett, antsy from too much sedentary time indoors, went out for a long, muddy run.

One thing we didn't do was talk about Harper. Until Friday at five-ten, when her plane was scheduled to land, she didn't exist between us.

Friday afternoon, I spent a couple hours with him before leaving at two to meet my aunt Carrie at her cottage. Against my better judgment—which was how I did most things these days—I'd agreed to go with her to pick up Harper. The airport was located just outside Weldon, and the thought of a two-hour drive with my aunt, who had no clue about the secrets I'd been keeping from her daughter, filled me with anxiety. As a high school teacher for the past thirty years, Aunt Carrie had an uncanny intuition when it came to teenagers. Mostly, I was afraid she'd somehow draw the truth from me before I was ready to spill it.

Luckily, my aunt was far more concerned with Harper's impending emotional state after several days with her father. Even a five-minute phone call with Lawrence could unsettle her for days, she reminded me as we drove toward the city. Who knew how five days with him had affected her?

To our surprise and relief, Harper was all smiles when she spotted us waiting for her near the baggage claim. Her grin held as she approached us, hugging first her mom and then me. She looked tanned and well-rested and happy to see us, which for some reason only intensified my guilt.

“Where's Uncle Bryce?” she asked as we made our way to the exit.

“In the middle of a cliff-hanger, probably,” I said. “He said he couldn't leave this close to the end.”

Aunt Carrie glanced at her watch. “Kat, text Mark and let him know we're on our way, okay?”

I nodded and dug out my phone. We'd made plans to meet Dad downtown at a Japanese restaurant for dinner before the four of us headed back to Millard Lake together. It felt strange being back in Weldon. We rarely came back home during the summer, and when I stepped outside into a wall of smoggy heat, I remembered why. Summer in the city was hot, loud, and dirty.

On the drive downtown, Harper told us about her trip. “Dad's new girlfriend is actually really nice,” she said with a quick, apologetic glance toward her mom.

Aunt Carrie looked more comforted than offended, however.

“They were on vacation from work so we were able to do the rock-climbing after all. And yesterday we went shopping and I got these.” She lifted a curtain of blond hair and showed us her earlobes, which were home to a pair of dangly, yellow gold earrings with multicolored stones.

“They're gorgeous,” I said from my spot in the backseat. It was true. They
were
beautiful, and so unlike the simple studs and hoops Harper usually wore. They were the kind of earrings
I
liked, flashy and noticeable. “Did your dad get them for you?”

She nodded, glancing again at her mom as she dropped her hair back over her ears. Aunt Carrie's face remained passive, but a slight thinning of her lips betrayed the irritation she worked so hard to hide. Lawrence often tried to buy Harper's affections, but never extravagantly. He must have really wanted to impress the new girlfriend.

When we reached the city center, Aunt Carrie asked me if I wanted to drop by my condo for a minute, but I declined. There was nothing in there I needed and truthfully, I just wanted to get back to the lake as soon as possible. Being home made me think about Shay, and thinking about Shay made me dread my upcoming tell-all conversation with my cousin. Would she scream at me like Shay had? Quit speaking to me? Ignore me whenever I tried to make amends? I wasn't sure if I could handle a second round of that.

Then I thought of sitting on my dock with Emmett as we watched the first rays of sunshine in days peek through the clouds, and I knew I had no choice.

“Did I miss anything exciting while I was away?” Harper asked me during dinner an hour and a half later.

Dad had shown up at the restaurant late, having gone home to change out of his suit first. He was picking wearily through his Thai barbecue chicken, looking exhausted and slightly disappointed that Pop hadn't come with us.

“Not really,” I replied, popping a California roll into my mouth so I wouldn't have to elaborate. God, I'd missed sushi. The only sushi to be found in Erwin was the packaged kind in the supermarket deli, which I feared might kill me if I ate it.

“So what did you do all week?”

Instead of answering, I shrugged and shoved another roll in my mouth. I couldn't talk about it over dinner in a busy restaurant with our parents present. I couldn't tell her about the countless hours I'd spent with Emmett, kissing him, observing him, getting to know him. I couldn't share the things I'd discovered about him, like that his beloved dog died of old age two years ago and he didn't have the heart to get a new one, or that his childhood best friend's name was Joel, or that he acted like two different people around his parents—sweet and solicitous with his mom, short and indifferent with his dad. I couldn't describe the way his hair changed color depending which way the light hit it, or the scuff of his jaw against my skin, or how his breath hitched whenever my lips found the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

And I definitely couldn't tell her about my feelings for him, how they expanded by the day and were unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. That, more than anything, would be the hardest to confess.

 

My dads' second big barbecue of the summer took place the next day, and everyone they'd invited showed up. Well, almost everyone.

“Excuse me,” I said to Mr. and Mrs. Schaefer, who'd been regaling me with an amusing anecdote about their greyhound, Benson, who was stretched out on the lawn a few feet away. A childless forty-something couple, they owned the cottage on the other side of Harper's and only came out on weekends.

“Sorry,” I added when they stared at me, taken aback by my sudden disruption. “I just have to—” I motioned behind me at the convergence of neighbors in our yard, vaguely indicating that I had other things to attend to. In truth, I had just spotted Emmett emerging from the woods.

“Of course,” Mrs. Schaefer said, waving a hand to dismiss me.

I gave them an apologetic smile and headed toward Emmett. Seeing me, he paused at the periphery of the yard and glanced around. His gaze landed on the deck, where I knew Harper was currently located, and then flickered back to me, questioning. I shook my head.
No
, I replied with my eyes.
I haven't told her about us yet
. His expression darkened slightly, and I felt the urge to defend myself. It wasn't that I was stalling, exactly. I just hadn't had a chance to bring it up. She'd gone straight to her cottage when we got back last night, and this morning she was at soccer practice. I couldn't very well break the news to her in the middle of a party.

“Hey.” I reached him, careful to keep a respectable distance between us, even though I longed to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him hello, like I'd done all last week.

“You haven't told her?” he confirmed. His eyes locked on mine, softening in a way that let me know he wanted to kiss me, too.

“Not yet.” When I explained why, his expression lightened again, but not all the way. He seemed distracted. “Where's your mom?” I asked as we crossed the yard.

“She couldn't make it.”

“Why not?” I'd invited Mrs. Reese myself on Wednesday, and she'd happily accepted. She jumped on any excuse to hang out with my dads and aunt.

“She just couldn't.”

I stopped walking and seized his forearm, not caring who was watching. Something was going on. “Emmett,” I said softly. “Tell me why.”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, not meeting my eyes. “She and my dad had a huge fight this morning.”

I nodded. His parents' arguing wasn't exactly groundbreaking news.

“The worst one yet,” he went on, the words halting.

“What was it about?”

He focused on my face again. “Your father.”

Confused, I peered over his shoulder at the deck, where Dad was manning the grill while chatting with Dr. McCurdy. Harper was deep in conversation with Mrs. McCurdy at the patio table, their backs to us. She either didn't know Emmett was there, or was ignoring him in an attempt to stay true to her “I'm over him” declaration. She was also ignoring Nate, who'd been trying to get her attention for the past half hour.

“Dad?” I said to Emmett. “Why would they fight about him?”

“From what I gathered after listening to them yell at each other for an hour, they bumped into him in town last weekend and—well, you know how affectionate my mom is.”

I nodded again. Mrs. Reese was like me, a toucher. Effusive.

“Anyway,” Emmett continued, looking aggrieved. “My dad thought they acted a little too friendly with each other. I've mentioned before how paranoid he can be. He accused her of . . .” His sentence trailed off like it literally pained him to finish it. “God, it's so ridiculous, I don't even want to say it.”

All I could do was stare at him with my mouth hanging open. “My father is
gay
,” I said after a few moments. “He has a
husband
.” Even as I said it, though, I could understand a tiny bit why a certain type of guy might feel threatened by a tall, built, handsome, utterly masculine man acting chummy with his wife, even if the man in question wasn't into women. Illogical, but not entirely crazy.

“Yeah, my dad knows that. Like I said, it's ridiculous.” Emmett sighed again, wearily. “He freaked out this morning when she mentioned the barbecue, so she told him she wouldn't go just to shut him up. She's going to call your dads later to apologize.”

I shook my head. “That's insane.”

“I know. I'm sorry you have to deal with my messed up parents.”

“I'm sorry
you
do.”

He reached up to stroke my face but I stepped back just in time, almost colliding with a lawn chair. Frowning, Emmett dropped his hand and tossed a glance over his shoulder. Harper was watching us, an inscrutable expression on her face. When she saw us looking at her, she lifted her hand in a small wave.

“This sucks,” Emmett said under his breath as he turned back to me. “I can't even touch you.”

“Just until I tell her,” I assured him. My stomach lurched as if protesting the two glasses of lemonade I'd put in it earlier.

“And when will that be?”

“Soon.” I slipped past him, gesturing for him to follow me up to the deck.

Instead, he turned toward the wide stretch of yard near the driveway where Nate and his brothers were tossing around a football. Apparently, Nate had given up on his pursuit of Harper. That she still hadn't forgiven him for something that happened weeks ago didn't exactly bode well for Emmett and me.

“I'll be over there,” Emmett told me before heading in Nate's direction.

Nate seemed surprised to see him coming. They hadn't exactly gotten off on the right foot at the beginning of summer, and never did get around to becoming friends. Still, I guess even hanging out with McTurdy was preferable to being with me and pretending.

I spent the rest of the evening with Harper, eating and talking and watching the guys horse around on the grass. We talked about her trip, and soccer, and how big the moon looked . . . everything but what we should've been discussing. What we
needed
to discuss, and soon. I'd had a million opportunities to say the words, coax them from their hiding spot at the back of my throat, but they refused to surface.

Harper had returned to the lake brimming with renewed hope. She was happy. Almost confident. She deserved to enjoy the feeling for at least one more night before I came along and ripped it away.

chapter 24

A
fter a short and restless sleep, I woke up early the next morning feeling tired but determined. Harper and I had made plans to hit Goody's for dinner, and that was where I would finally tell her. Or maybe I'd tell her on the walk back. Yes, that sounded better.

First, though, I needed to see Emmett. He'd acted so distant at the barbecue, barely even looking my way the entire night. I wasn't sure if his goal was to make Harper believe there was nothing between us or if he was simply pissed about my reluctance to expose our upgraded relationship status. In any case, I sensed his patience had hit its limit.

He usually ran in the early morning before it got too hot, so I hopped on my ATV and zipped into the woods to look for him. It didn't take long. After about five minutes, I spotted him up ahead of me to the left, running parallel to the path with his back to me. Since I'd noticed him well in advance, I had time to swerve in front of him and block his route, making sure he saw me. I cut the engine and slipped off my helmet and goggles, watching him as he advanced toward me. His form was graceful, fluid, and I found it impossible to look away. The fact that he was shirtless didn't hurt either.

“I don't know about you,” he said when he reached me and yanked out his earbuds, “but I'm experiencing major déjà vu right now.”

I smiled, feeling a little self-conscious. He was used to seeing me in dresses and bikinis, hair styled and makeup in place. I hadn't even showered yet, my hair was full of static from the helmet, and my cosmetic-free face felt grubby and sweaty. Not to mention my dusty jeans and black jacket, which were far more practical than fashionable. Still, the look on his face as he studied me was the opposite of disgusted.

“What?” I asked, grateful that my cheeks were undoubtedly already flushed from wearing the bulky helmet.

“Nothing.” He looked away, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You just look insanely sexy on that thing.”

I laughed and swung my leg over the seat, then propped my behind against it, crossing my legs at the ankle. “You don't exactly look unappealing yourself at the moment.”

He moved a few steps closer and tugged the zipper on my jacket. “Does that mean I can kiss you now? Is it safe?”

I knew what he was really asking, and my answer was the same as the one I'd given him yesterday—shake of the head, remorseful expression.
No, she still doesn't know about us
.

Emmett let go of my zipper, and the playful mood between us abruptly shifted.

“I wanted you to tell her right away,” he said, his eyes blazing. “Then you convinced me to give you until Friday, so I gave you until Friday. Now it's Sunday, and nothing has changed. Just be honest with me, Kat. Did you ever have any intention of telling her?”

I focused on a ray of sunlight on the toes of my boots, feeling another wave of déjà vu. He wasn't yelling at me like he had the first time we'd met, but the tone in his voice sounded the same—harsh and impatient. And just like that time, I found myself pinned to my seat, stung by his reaction. “Yes,” I said, recovering quickly. “Yes. I'm doing it today. Tonight.”

“I hope so. I have enough drama in my life right now. There isn't room for any more.”

The implication of his words was clear. He was giving me an ultimatum. Either I came clean with Harper or he was done. Our relationship was too new to withstand such an obstacle. I didn't fault him. If I were in his shoes, I probably would've reacted the same way.

“It was unfair of me to put you in this position,” I said, reaching for his hand. “I'm sorry.”

His face softened as he laced his fingers through mine. “Me too. I don't mean to pressure you, I just”—he leaned in and planted a big, sweaty kiss on my lips—“need to be able to do that whenever I want.”

I pulled him toward me again and we kissed under the trees, entertaining a large-but-discreet audience of birds and squirrels.

 

Harper didn't seem concerned when she realized I'd only eaten about a third of my dinner. “Not hungry?” she asked, polishing off her own burger with gusto.

I shook my head. My stomach was so tight, the few bites of food I'd managed to get down felt like they were inching back up my esophagus. I pushed my plate toward her and she snatched a handful of my fries, more than happy to help me out.

While she ate, I let my gaze wander to the back wall of the restaurant where the jukebox used to reside. So many wonderful summers had begun with that jukebox. The absence of it felt almost like an omen. Seeing Goody's transformation that first day had tipped the balance somehow, setting the stage for all the changes that followed. Maybe if that one little thing had remained the same, we wouldn't be in a mess right now. A long-shot, yes, but I'd always believed in the significance of tradition.

No,
I thought.
This is my fault. All mine.
I'd tried to change my ways, tried to get myself into the habit of thinking before acting, and I'd failed. Catastrophically.

It wasn't until after we'd paid and stepped outside into the cool night air that Harper noticed my odd behavior. “Are you okay? You've been really quiet.”

“I'm fine,” I said automatically. My heart started racing in tandem with my brain, which kept generating ideas and then scrapping them just as fast. How was I going to tell her? What should I say? Where did I start?

Not here,
I thought as we stopped at the edge of the road, waiting for our chance to cross. No way could I tell her near a place where cars came barreling toward us at a million miles per hour, oblivious to pedestrians. No, better to wait until we were safely on the other side.

As soon as we'd made it across, however, Harper sidetracked me by saying, “I ran into Nate earlier. What is up with him lately? He's actually being
nice
.”

“I noticed,” I said, latching on to the distraction. “I think he feels bad for everything that happened.”

“Good.” She tipped her face up to the sky. Dusk had just begun to fall, plunging the gravel road into shadows. “Do you think I should forgive him?”

I pretended to weigh my answer, even though I had zero doubt. Nate was trying, at least. “Yes. I think he deserves another chance. He likes you, Harper.”

“Hmm,” she said noncommittally. “Maybe I will give him another chance. Start hanging out with him again. Who knows?” she added, laughing. “It might make Emmett jealous.”

My body went cold. Here was my opening. I swallowed a couple times, aware of the thumping pulse in my neck. We were past my cottage, almost halfway to hers. Walter, the old man face in the tree, was just up ahead, seemingly watching our approach. “Harper.”

“Yeah?”

I stopped walking and clutched her arm, turning her toward me. “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. When I hesitated, she raised her eyebrows expectantly. “What? Is it about Nate?”

“No.” I let go of her arm. “It's about Emmett.”

“What about him? Oh my God, is he gay? I didn't think so, but—”

“No,” I repeated. “He's . . . with me.”

She stared at me, and even in the falling darkness, I saw the exact moment when the meaning of my words sank in. Her eyes widened for a moment and then narrowed as if she didn't quite trust her own hearing. “What?”

“Emmett and me,” I said. “We're together.”

“
Together
.” The word hung in the air, dense and heavy. “You and Emmett are dating?”

When I nodded, she turned away from me, shifting her gaze to the copse of trees beside us. “How long?” she asked, her voice flat.

“What?”

“How. Long.”

“Um.” My mind whirled, trying to pinpoint the exact measure of time. Did I go by when Emmett first admitted to liking me? Our first kiss? First date? “A couple weeks,” I said, figuring that was the closest answer.

She turned toward me again, her eyes glittering as they fastened on mine. She held my gaze for a long, tense moment before swiveling on her heel and walking away, toward her cottage.

At first, my body didn't want to move, but then it sprang into action as if I'd been shoved. “Harper!” I called, following her. “Wait.”

“Leave me alone, Kat,” she said when I caught up to her.

“Please let me explain. I didn't mean to—”

She spun around and there it was—the look I'd been dreading. The same look that had flashed in Shay's eyes that afternoon when she'd yelled at me on the front lawn of our school. Disappointment. Regret. Betrayal. I'd done it again. Had driven away someone important. Someone who'd trusted me.

“I don't want to hear it,” my cousin hissed at me. “Just leave me alone.”

When she turned and walked away from me a second time, I didn't follow her. I waited until she disappeared down her driveway and then started walking again, passing by her cottage. It was fully dark, but I'd walked the route often enough that I didn't even need a flashlight.

I started hearing the fighting when I was still several yards from Emmett's driveway. By the time I got there, the argument had escalated into a full-blown screaming match, complete with what sounded like breaking dishes. Without even stopping to listen, I knew Emmett's parents were probably still fighting about whatever Mr. Reese had convinced himself was going on between my dad and his wife.
God,
I thought,
I bet they wished they'd never set foot near Millard Lake this summer.

Somehow, I knew Emmett wasn't in the cottage, subjecting himself to the chaos, so I didn't even bother to go up and knock. I dug my phone out of my purse and pressed the flashlight app, letting the light guide me as I stepped into the woods. Ten minutes later, I was standing in the clearing next to the small blue tent, scratched up and shivering and on the verge of tears. Emmett, who'd been crouched by the fire, loading it with dry kindling, jerked to a standing position when he saw me.

“Kat?” He came over and gripped my shoulders. “What are you doing here? What's wrong?”

The heat from his hands only intensified my shivering. “I told her,” I said, looking up at him.

His eyes swept over my face like he was trying to make sense of the expression on it, which must have been a mixture of shock and desolation, neither of which he'd seen there before. “How'd she take it? Is she okay?”

My mind flashed on the image of Harper's face, her features etched with hurt. She hadn't yelled at me the way Shay had done, but I almost wished she had. Yelling might have been easier to take than her quiet disappointment. “I don't know.”

“Are
you
okay?”

I didn't know that either, so I focused on the only emotion I was completely sure of in that moment and leaned in to kiss him. After a short pause, he kissed me back, drawing me against his soft, wood-smoke-scented T-shirt. I kissed him like I wanted to crawl inside him and curl up there, secure in his comforting warmth.

“You're freezing,” he said when my icy hands grazed the skin under his shirt. He led me over to the fire and told me to stay put for a minute. Then he reached one arm into the tent and pulled out his sleeping bag, which he placed on the ground next to the fire. “Climb in,” he told me.

I did, then motioned for him to join me. It was a tight squeeze, but that was okay because I immediately pulled him on top of me and wrapped myself around him. After a while, I barely even noticed the firmness of the ground or the assortment of pointy rocks sticking into my back.

“Emmett,” I whispered at one point. “Are you a virgin?”

He stopped nibbling at my neck and pulled back to look at me. “Yes. Are you?”

I nodded and he kissed my lips hard, one hand tangled in my hair while the other slid beneath the hem of my dress. For a moment, I was lost in the taste of him, the scent of him, the heat of his skin against mine. I shifted position and a particularly sharp rock dug into my hip, jolting me back to reality. As my mind cleared, everything that had happened came rushing back at once, overwhelming me. Barely an hour had passed since I'd shattered my cousin's trust in me and I was minutes away from sharing all of myself with Emmett, a boy I wasn't even sure I loved.

The thought stopped me cold. I'd chosen someone I'd known for only a couple months over someone I'd known all my life. Someone I shared a history with . . . and memories and blood. Someone I
knew
I loved, and who loved me. Or used to, anyway.

Family trumps everything
, I reminded myself. When had I lost sight of that?

“Wait,” I said, wedging my hands against Emmett's chest, easing us apart. “I can't do this.”

He pushed himself off me, bracing his weight with his arms. “Are you uncomfortable? I know this isn't the best place—”

“That's not what I mean.” I squirmed out from under him—which wasn't easy in the cramped confines of the single-person sleeping bag—and sat up.

The instant I emerged into the night air, the heat in my body dissolved into chills. The fire had burned down to a dim orange glow and the forest surrounding us seemed completely still, as if it was holding its breath, waiting.

“I mean I can't do this anymore. Us. Me and you. Any of it.”

He scrambled into a sitting position beside me. “What are you saying?”

“She's my cousin, Emmett.” I ran my finger along a seam in the sleeping bag, unable to meet his eyes. “I can't do this to her.”

He didn't speak for a long time. When he finally did, the tone he used wasn't the rough, impatient one from that morning, the one I'd been expecting. He sounded hurt. Vulnerable. “Maybe you should've thought of that before we let it get this far.”