Her eyes fall to my chest and she blushes, which makes me blush too.
“Put your shirt back on,” she says, tossing it back to me.
As I pull it over my head, she walks around my room, picking up random objects and setting them down. First, mybaseball. Then the picture of my dad and me on my bedside table.
I hate that she not only barged in here, she’s also touching my things.
“Why are you here?”
“I want you to drive me to Lancaster.”
My brow knits together as my jaw drops. “You can’t be serious.”
She sits down on my bed and crosses her arms. “I’m completely serious.”
“Why?”
“Because no one else will take me.”
I think back to what Mallory told me and how she was acting strange because she wanted to go to Lancaster. Still, this is a little excessive, even for Emma.
“Why would I take you?” I ask.
“Because I know your secret. You’re an awful little thief.”
There it is. The proof she still doesn’t care about me. She doesn’t miss me or want me. She only wants something from me.
Nothing’s changed.
She plucks my keys off my side table and holds them out to me. “I want to go now.”
My jaw hits the floor. She can’t be serious. It’s way too late. “No. There’s no way I’m driving that far tonight.”
Four hours. That’s ridiculous.
“Fine,” she says, walking to the door. “I’ll just go talk to your mother. I’m sure she’ll—”
I grab her wrist, spinning her around. “You wouldn’t. Do you realize what’ll happen if she finds out? I’ll be kicked off the baseball team.”
“Then drive me.”
I tug at my hair. “How am I even supposed to do that? She’d never let me take you.”
“Don’t tell her.”
“What about school tomorrow?”
“Skip it.”
She has an unreasonable answer to every excuse I have. She’s infuriating. Immature.
I don’t want her to miss me.
“I can’t skip baseball practice,” I say.
“Mrs.—”
I cover her mouth. I’ve come this far, I can’t stop now. If we leave now, I can drive back in time for the game and beg Coach to let me play. “Fine.”
