“I think you let your dad’s feelings about me get into that thick skull of yours. He’s got so much sway with you, it’s ridiculous. But that’s fine. That’s your problem.” She sighs, turns, and mutters, “I’ve got my own family drama.”
“Your sister?”
She doesn’t get to answer. Carley’s old blue car pulls up in front of the building. I let Emma wheel me out. She locks the thing into place, and I hop up and into the back seat. I watch her take the chair back into the building and return, her face never changing from the angry one I caused inside.
“What’s wrong?” Carley asks as soon as Emma’s in the passenger seat.
I half expect her to shrug it off, but she doesn’t. “This entire thing with him ghosting me is because he thought I wanted him to go to New York so he could make tons of money as a pro.”
“What?” Carley hasn’t pulled out of her spot at the curb yet. Probably good since she’s now turned to glare at me. “You think she’s after you for your money?” Her laughter swiftly follows. It’s not a happy laugh. It was more along the lines of a scoff.
“Did you tell him you sold your bike just to go visit him in New York?”
I quickly look over at Emma, then back at Carley as she adds, “And that you wouldn’t let his mom buy your ticket?”
“Emma—”
Carley holds her hand up to stop me. “Does he also know that you’ve been resigned to the fact that he’s moved on. That he was better off without you and that you hoped he was happy?”
This time Emma doesn’t make a move.
Carley looks back over her shoulder and gives me the look of death. “Here’s how this is gonna go.” I look up at her best friend and nod. “I’m going to drive your sorry ass home. You’re going to hobble out of my car and into your fancy-ass house. Then you’re going to leave my sweet, loving, caring best friend the fuck alone. You get me?”
I nod.
“Because she doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. Why in the fuck would you ever think she was after you for your money? It was always about your body.”
“Carley!” Emma shouts. “Stop.”
I can’t help but chuckle.
I guess Carley was serious. “Laugh it up, asswipe. You fucked up the best thing that ever happened to you, and I don’t feel sorry for you.”
The chuckle is long gone. “I know.”
None of us makes a sound on the ride to my house. Once the car stops and I open the door, I’ve got to say something. I can’t just leave without letting Emma know how I feel. “Emma?”
She doesn’t turn. Only Carley does and the glare is back. “I’m going to call you. I hope you’ll answer because I’m not giving up.”
“You gave up when you didn’t bother answering her calls while you were in New York.”
“You’re right.” She’s absolutely right. “But Emma’s not an asshole like I am.”
“No shit,” Carley mutters.
I wish Emma would respond. I’m tired of hearing Carley’s voice right now. “Will you answer the phone?”
“I don’t know.” Em’s voice is husky with emotion. I believe her when she says she’s doesn’t know if she’ll talk to me or not. I guess that’s better than a no. I’ll take it. Hopping out of the car, literally, I make good use of my right leg and bounce up to my garage where I enter the code for the opener and watch it rise up. Turning, I see the blue car reverse out of my driveway, well, my dad’s driveway, and tear down the street. Emma didn’t even look at me. And that right there, that moment, hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life thus far.
* * *
“Jesus, dude,”Cody says, practically choking on a sandwich. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I grabbed a pair of crutches from the garage. I’ve got several sets. Using them, I’m able to move pretty quickly into the kitchen.
“Oh no. You got hurt and had to head home?”
Okay. I like that excuse. It’s going to play well with the rest of the guys on the team. “Yeah. High ankle sprain. I’m out for four to six weeks.” Actually, it could take up to eight to get back onto the ice, but I don’t want to believe that.
