I suddenly panic. What if he doesn’t call? We didn’t exchange numbers, so I can’t get hold of him. What if he decides Micah was too possessive, and he changes his mind?
I turn to glare at Micah. “Why did you do that? You know River was trying to ask me out. Why did you make it weird and invite yourself along?”
Micah snarls like he always does when he’s not getting his way. “You don’t even know this guy. I did it to protect you from making a bad decision. Geesh, Jiminy, he could be a murderer.”
I bust out laughing as I unlock my car. “River Stone is not a murderer. That’s ridiculous.”
Micah puts his tripod in the trunk, and we climb in. I slide my book into the door cubby before I start my car.
Micah scowls at me. “All right. Maybe not murderer, but what if he tries something? I want to make sure he’s a stand-up guy before you go out alone with him.”
My heart warms. Micah wants to protect me. I thought he was just being obnoxious. “That’s actually sweet of you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He fiddles with his camera lens as I pull out of the parking lot. “You’re like the sister I never had. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
My warm feeling turns cold in an instant.Sister. That’s how Micah sees me? Is that why, in all these years, he’s never made a move?
“I could not believe that seagull took off with your glasses. That was insane!”
I switch on my turn signal and change lanes. “I’m so glad River got them for me.”
“You should have seen him take off after that bird.” Micah chuckles. “It was something else.”
My heart warms again. A total stranger did that… for me. “I still can’t believe he turned out to be River Stone.”
“Well, you know you can’t go out with him.”
“Why?”
“Because Cricket and River Stone? Sounds like a nature documentary or a summer camp.”
I make apftnoise and stick out my tongue. “You’re just jealous.”
“Jealous?” His voice cracks. “As if.”
Yeah. I know he’s not jealous. The knife stabs a little deeper into my chest. If only hewerejealous. If only Micah saw me as anything other than a sister.
I. Want. To. Die.
I pull into my parent’s driveway and park the car. It’s a three-car garage, but it’s full of my father’s precious Mustangs. He’s got three of them. So I have to park in the driveway.
As Micah and I walk to the door, my phone chimes, and my heart stutters. Micah’s the only one who ever texts me, but he’s right beside me, his tripod taking up both hands, so I know it’s not from him. It can’t be from River already… can it? I hold my breath as I fish my phone out of my pocket while trying not to let my book fall.
Hey, is this Cricket? I’m making sure you didn’t give me a fake number.
It’s followed by a squinty-grinning emoji.
I squeal and drop my keys in the grass. “It’s him. He texted me.”
Micah bends down to search for the keys. “Holy buckets, Jiminy. Calm down. He’s just a guy.”
I hug my phone to my chest along with my book. “So now he’s a regular guy? Not a serial killer?”
Micah grunts as he grabs my keys and stands. “Funny.”
I whack his shoulder. “Let me be happy.”
He slides the key into the door lock then turns to me. “Be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”
