Page 111 of The Emma Special

Emma slid her hand into the bag of cheese puffs and grabbed a handful. She’d been on “lookout” duty for an hour now, and the snacks were running low. Her tailbone hurt from sitting on the floor of the flimsy tent. No matter how many times she adjusted, there always seemed to be a stick or a rock in the way. She’d allow five more minutes of this nonsense before she stopped pretending she could see anything through the tent screen.

Her phone dinged with a text.

Summer: Can you please stop eating? I can hear you crunching all the way over here like a cow chewing cud.

Rude. As if Summer had nothing to do but listen to her chew from across the clearing in her own tent.

Emma: I’m bored. What else am I supposed to do?

She’d ravaged three more cheese puffs, making sure to chew in Summer’s direction with her mouth open, before Summer replied.

Summer: Watching for suspicious activity!

Emma: What are we considering suspicious?

Summer: Any signs of someone who might be raiding my garden. It is not a free-for-all! The community garden is on Forrester Road.

Summer sent a string of angry emojis.

Summer: I’m trying to run a business here!

Summer: If I wanted to give away the fruit of my labor, I wouldn’t bother with taxes.

Summer: Why don’t I post a sign? Come on in! Bring your grubby little hands and take whatever you want.

Emma: Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a wad. I’m looking.

Emma stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked off the cheesy powder. Emma’s phone dinged again, and she grabbed it up, ready to defend herself if Summer was still whining about the noise, but it was James this time.

James: Having fun?

Emma smiled and crossed her legs. James had been worried when she left the house—not just about her knee, her little meltdown earlier seemed to have really upset him—but she’d made all the promises the girls would be careful tonight. Summer did a lot of camping, and she knew the forest behind her cottage like the back of her hand. She sure foraged in it enough.

Emma: Not yet. Summer is a buzz kill. She’s tryna make me starve. Like some kind of monk who’s vowed to abstain from powdered crunchy cheese. I made no such vow.

James: What are you doing?

Emma: Listening to Katie snore. Eating cheese puffs. Oh, and I’m on the lookout. That’s the important one. I’m the best looker-outer of the whole forest. Pretty much nothing is getting past me. Wait, I thought you didn’t want to know what we were up to? Hmm? Don’t be gettin nosey. What are you doing?

James: Laundry. Nothing as fun as snoring, snacking, and spying. What are you looking for?

Emma: What a great question. I have no idea.

James: ??

Emma: Samesy. But I’m looking. Clearly, not this very second because I’m texting you, but GENERALLY I’ve been hardcore over here. I’m about out of snacks though. Might not make it. We’re camping behind Summer’s cottage, and it’s dark out here. Can I tell you a secret?

James: Absolutely. You know they can’t arrest a husband and wife for the same crime.

Emma: Get out! Is that true?

James: No. What’s your secret?

Emma: It’s really dark out here.

James: That’s not a secret.

Emma: Yep. It’s so dark… I’m looking at nothing. I couldn’t see something out here if it was dancing a jig in front of me.