His lip curls up like he ate something sour. “Ha-ha.”
“Your words, not mine,” I say, holding back a smile.
“What’s the deal with her sister? What did you do?”
I roll my eyes. “I have no idea.”
“You should ask her,” Sam says.
That sounds like a nightmare. I’d rather come face-to-face with a lion than have to interact with her again. I’ll be better off ignoring her ambush this morning and going on with my life like nothing happened.
A startled snore pulls my attention back to Emma.
I don’t know how she can sleep in a room this bright. The room is drowning in sunshine. It’s pouring in from the window directly into her face, and yet, her chest rises and falls without skipping a beat. She’s always been able to sleep in the most awkward places. Need a bed? Nope. She could sleep on the porch, in her tree house, or in a rickety old chair. As long as her eyes were closed and she wasn't moving, she’d be asleep. Even after all this time, I still remember that.
Emma shifts her weight and her body dips over the edge of the cot because somehow in her deep slumber she’s forgotten how gravity works.
Before I have time to react, she crashes to the ground with a thud. Her eyes fly open, staring up at me as she’s wedged between the two cots.
On autopilot I jump to my feet, bending down to check on her. I don’t have time to talk myself out of it because I’m in shock after watching her pancake onto the floor.
Her eyes widen so much I think they might pop out of her head.
Reluctantly, I offer my hand. “Are you—”
She lets out a bloodcurdling scream and kicks her leg toward me with all her might, striking me right in the crotch.
My jaw drops and pain shoots through my body as myknees buckle. I grab the side of the cot, gripping it so tight I might actually rip a hole in it. My stomach lurches, and it takes all of my concentration not to throw up. I can’t even say anything because I’m in so much pain, and she deserves to be yelled at. She deserves to be verbally assaulted with all of the vile lines I’ve rehearsed in my head over the last couple of years.
Sam rushes over. “Don’t worry, I got you, man.”
He tries to pull me back, but I’m in too much pain to move. “It’s a little late, don’t you think?”
Emma covers her mouth with shaking hands. “It’s really you. I wasn’t dreaming.” She scoots away from me, which I find odd considering she’s the violent one. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be locked up?”
Again with the prison talk. Why is she talking nonsense? I’ve never done anything remotely close to something worth getting arrested for. I don’t jaywalk, I color in the lines, and with the mother I have, I don’t even have the opportunity to misbehave because she smothers me.
“Uh, no.” I grimace, trying to speak. I cough to clear my throat. “I’m at school.” Where else would I be on a Wednesday morning? I know better than to skip school because I have to be the perfect student for the rest of baseball season. If I get in trouble or let my grades fall, that would only give my mother more reason to look closer into my life.
Emma crawls toward me. A shiver runs down my back and my breath stills. It’s so odd being this close to her again and hearing her speak to me. I didn’t think I’d forgotten the way she sounds, but maybe I did. Her voice is so much fuller now.
Her hand comes closer and heat flashes through my entire body, but I can’t bring myself to move.
She almost touches my uniform like she’s trying to decide whether or not it’s real, but when her fingers get close, her face twists into a confused expression and she stops herself.
I have no idea what’s going through her head, but as she stares at me the color drains from her face. “Mallory.”
She pushes down on my shoulder to give herself leverage to stand, and I hit my head on the cot. As soon as she’s back on her feet, she runs out of the room.
There’s no explanation. No apology. Nothing. She’s just gone.
“Why did you just stand there?” I ask, glaring at Sam.
He shrugs. “Well, she’s kinda scary.”
“No kidding.”
He offers me a hand, outstretched like an olive branch, as if it’ll make up for his lack of help before.
