“Ask who what?”
“Ask David what he did that’s so terrible it’s destroyed this magic love I thought you guys had.”
I smiled. “He’ll never answer his phone, Emily. He’s probably got a new number.”
She shrugged, holding her phone to her ear. “It’s ringing.”
I tensed. What if he answered? What then?
I felt my toes edge, turning in preparation to run and snatch the phone.
“Jason?” She practically screeched, almost projecting forward. “Hi, um, I—uh—where’s David?”
I tried to force my brow into a dismissive position to hide my obvious confusion at the way she spoke to Jason—like she’d known him for years, or had, at the very least, met him before.
“Just tell me where he is,” she said, then went quiet. “Well, does he know what Ara’s gone and done?”
“Hey!” I scoffed.
She bit her lip, ignoring me, then nodded—to herself, I think. “She’s marrying him, Jason.”
I gathered, from the look on her face, that Jason didn't really have a lot to say about it. And why would he?
“Okay.” She shrugged. “He’s your brother.” She hung up the phone and looked at me; I felt like a school kid in big trouble from the principal. “You are the stupidest girl I've ever met.”
“Hey! I am not. I'm just trying to be happy.”
She shook her head, conceit littering her smile. “By living without David?”
“Yes.”
“Then that just makes you even dumber than I thought.”
“Look. Stay out of it, Em. It’s my life.”
“And I’m your friend. That means I get to tell you when you’re being a dumb cow!”
“No, Emily, I’m being sensible. I’m doing what any normal, sane teenager should do.”
“That’s the point! Don’t you get it? You’re a teenager. You don’t have to make smart choices.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, exactly. And I have the freedom to say and do stupid things, because I’m young, Ara. And so are you. And if you let love go now for reasons only an adult would care about, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
“What would you know about regret? You’re the same age as me.”
She looked down at her feet. “I have my regrets.”
“Yeah, well, for me, David won’t be one of them. It’d be worse if I stayed with him.”
“What is wrong with you?” She tossed her phone onto my bed. “Do you need a brain scan or something? It’s David!” She waved flat palms at me. “David freakin Knight, Ara, not just some random guy.”
“Just stop it, Em. Okay!” I thrust my body forward a little, tightly holding back tears. “He’s gone! He’s not coming back, and I don’t want to talk about it!”
“That’s because you know you should have gone with him.”
“What the hell does it matter to you?”
“He was my friend, Ara. I cared about him. And I care about you, too. God only knows why I bother, because you obviously don't care about yourself.”
I shook my head, looking away.
“I'm sorry, okay,” she said. “I just…I’ve never really had close friends before and, I mean, David was my first one. He was the first person that ever understood me.”
Yeah, or read your mind.
“And you—” she continued. “You became my friend because you actually liked me. Not because I was popular or knew all the guys. You actually liked me, Ara, and I don't have any other friends like you and…” Her lip quivered. “He’s gonna take you back to Australia, isn't he?”
“Who?”
“Mike.”
“He wants to,” I said, unable to look at her.
“And what then? Then I’ll have no one.”
“You have Alana.”
She swiped her tears and sat on my bed. I sat down beside her.
“I'm sorry, Emily.”
“I'm sorry, too.” She took my hand. “It’s not my place to interfere, I just—”
“You care?”
She nodded. “I don’t like him.”
“Who?”
“Mike.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t like how he calls you baby and girl all the time.” Her nose crinkled. “Don’t you find it degrading?”
“Why would I?” I shrugged. “He’s not trying to control me or own me by using a pet name.”
“But you’re not his pet. That’s just the point.”
“And he doesn’t treat me like a pet, either. It’s a term of endearment. I, unlike you, have an appreciation for verbal affection.”
She laughed through her nose. “You sound like David.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. He says stuff like that all the time.” She softened. “Er, well, said.”
I shrugged. “Guess he was starting to rub off on me.”
“Guess so.”
“It started out as a way to tease me, you know.” I smiled at a distant memory.
“What was?”
“Baby. The way Mike always calls me baby. It started because he was always faster, stronger and smarter than me. No matter how hard I tried, I could never beat him at any game or race or anything. So I’d sulk.” I shrugged again. “He’d always call me a baby, then, after a while, he just started saying it after pretty much everything he said, until one day it changed—there was a warmth behind the word that hadn’t been there before, and I—” I smiled, “—I kinda liked that. It made me feel special.”
“I guess I know what you mean. We kind of let almost anything go when they make us feel special, don’t we?” Em twiddled her fingers in her lap, then exhaled and stood up. “But, let the record show; I don’t like Mike. I don’t think he’s good enough for you.”
“But he is good for me.”
“They’re not the same.”
“Are in my world,” I scoffed. “So, anyway, how do you know Jason?”
She stiffened, going a little pale.
“Oh, now you have to tell me,” I said, pointing at her.
She turned away and walked over to my window, heavy, as though gravity gifted her with iron legs.
“Em, are you okay?”