Eli
I don’t knowwhat’s going on with Emma and her sister, but it was tense in the car. From the point we checked out at the store when I offered to buy Em’s groceries, all the way back to my place in the truck. No, tense isn’t the right word. Strained. Yeah, that’s a better word. Amber was the only one who said anything and that was directed at me.
She had lots of questions about my family, which classes I was taking and why, and of course, about hockey asking things like “Just how goodareyou?” and “Are you going pro?”
I gave her clipped, standard answers, because every time one would come out of her mouth from the back seat, I’d look over at Emma to gauge her reaction. To say she was white knuckled is an understatement. The woman never took her eyes off the road for a second, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t see her expressions. The ones that really got her going were the hockey questions. I could feel her eye roll from my spot in the car.
Emma pulls my SUV into the garage, turns off the engine, looks back at her sister from the rear-view mirror and snaps, “Wait out front. I’ll only be a minute.”
“Emma,” Amber whines. “I want to hang out with Eli for a while.”
Now, I’m pretty easygoing and as we all know, my manners aren’t on par with my girl’s, but evenIknow that’s rude. There was no invite to “hang out” with me. Amber just assumes she can ingratiate herself at my place. Not cool.
“Wait. Out. Front.” Emma is having none of it. And I have to say, seeing her take control like this is kinda hot. Also, a tad scary. I don’t thinkI’deven mess with her when she’s this angry.
“Fine.” Amber pushes her door open, jumps out, slams the door hard, and stomps out the open garage bay door to the front of my place.
“I’m sorry about her,” Emma says from the open car door. “She’s—”
“Spoiled?”
Emma snorts. “The understatement of the year.”
When Amber appears again, Emma growls. I want to laugh but think better of it.
“What did I just tell you?” she snaps at her sister.
“I forgot my cereal. And since you have absolutely no food at your place—”
Those words get my attention. Our eyes meet and as I’m about to ask Emma about her food situation, she holds one hand up. “We have food. It’s just not up to Amber’s high standards.”
“Fuck you, Emma,” Amber snarls. “Just because I don’t want to live off old oatmeal and cheap ramen—”
“There’s peanut butter and jelly. And bread too.”
“Oh, wow. Gee. That makes it all okay.”
“I didn’t invite you here, Amber. If you don’t like it, go home.” Emma goes from standing in her open car door to standing about five inches from her sister. Glaring up at her, Emma has a hand on each hip and her stance, in a word, looks like she’s about to knock out her bratty little sister. Like I say, it’s hot. Until I hear a sniffle. I know for sure it’s not coming from Emma.
“Oh no.” Emma shakes her head. “Don’t you dare start with the fake tears. I’m not falling for it. You may have Mom and Dad fooled, but not me.”
“I’m really crying, you bitch.”
“Oh, there’s water coming out of your eyes, sure. But there’s nothing behind those tears, faker.”
“Faker?” Amber sobs. “I’m n-n-not faking it. You’re so mean.”
I watch Emma’s shoulders visibly slump. A heavy, heavy sigh follows, like she’s given up. I don’t like it. “Just wait out front, Amber. I’ll get your stupid cereal.”
“Fine,” Amber snaps before stomping out of the garage again.
I gently place my hands on Emma’s upper arms. My God, she’s tense. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Hey.” I bend down until we’re eye to eye. “I mean it. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She pauses, looking to her left at the wall where the few manly tools I own hang. “She’s up to something,” Emma says softly, barely loud enough for me to hear.
