Chapter 17
MYLES
I couldn’t eat dinner. It made me sick just looking at it because I kept reliving how I stole those answers in my head. After dinner Mom insisted on us playing a game as a family, but all I wanted to do was sneak away.
We stay up way too late playing Uno and watching reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond.
Eventually, Adam excuses himself and heads to bed.
I’m about to get up when Mom says, “Are you okay?”
There’s a zap in my chest because I’m not. “Yeah, fine. Why?”
“You just seem sad lately.” She pats the space next to her.
I sit like an obedient dog. “I’m fine. Really.”
She tilts her head. “I’m your mom and you’re a terrible liar.”
Heat rushes to my face because she’s right. I know I have to be careful about what I say. What if she finds out about what I did today?
“I’m just tired. I have a lot of homework to do.”
I can tell by the way her eyes narrow she doesn’t believe me. “You used to tell me everything when you were little.”
But I can’t do that now. I can’t tell her how miserable I am because it’ll make her sad. It’s better if I keep her in the dark. I don’t want to be the reason she cries again. I can deal with my feelings alone.
“I’m okay. I promise,” I say.
“Okay, but just know you can talk to me.”
I nod. “Can I go do the rest of my homework now?”
“Don’t stay up too late.” She pulls me into a forced side hug, and I lean into her for a brief moment.
Then I get up and wander upstairs. I step into my room. It’s dark, but the moon casts a glow through the open window, and a light breeze pulls the curtains back and forth.
I don’t remember opening it.
Goosebumps cover my skin, and the hair on my arms stands up as I pat the wall, searching for the light switch. It lights up the room in a flash.
Nothing is out of the ordinary. My room is the way I left it when I went down for dinner. My backpack is leaning against the chair of my desk, and my bed is turned down from this morning.
I walk over to the window and shut it. Maybe my mom came in at some point and thought it needed to be aired out. My dirty socks from baseball practice are still in my laundry hamper, after all.
I sit down on the corner of my bed with my head in my hands. I’m exhausted from the last two days. How am I supposed to focus on my game with Mallory’s threats to expose me in the back of my head? She’s acting so strange, and I can’t predict her next move.
What I need is a shower to help me calm down.
I walk to my closet for a change of clothes.
When I open the closet door, two beady eyes stare back.
I shriek, jumping back, but lose my footing and land on the floor.
Emma scurries out of my closet. She flies forward, practically on top of me until she’s covering my mouth. “Be quiet.”
I’m in too much shock to move. What is Emma doing in my room? Isn’t this too much? Hasn’t she crossed the line?
Adrenaline pumps through me and I can’t help but think about what Mallory said. Is this really all because Emma misses me? There’s no way that’s what she wants. I tried for so long to get her attention, and every time she rudely forced me away.
I find myself soaking in Emma’s overly dramatic expressions, and my skin burns where she touches me.
“I know what you did,” she says.
My eyes widen, and my heart turns to stone all over again. I don’t know what she wants, but it isn’t me.
I try to pull her hand off my mouth and manage to mumble, “What are—”
“Myles?” My mom calls from the hallway. “Are you okay?”
Emma comes closer and whispers into my ear. “If you let her find me in here, I’ll tell her you stole that test from Mrs. Humphrey’s room.”
Goosebumps ripple up my arms. How did she find out? I mean, she had to find out through Mallory, but why would Mallory tell her? There’s no way she’d admit to cheating.
“Got it?”
I nod. I don’t have time to think. All I know is my mom can’t find out about what I did.
She slowly moves her hand, staring at me intently.
“I’m okay,” I yell.
But Mom’s footsteps continue coming closer.
“Do something,” Emma says.
Emma is still over me, and my head is ready to explode. What does she expect me to do? She’s the one who broke into my house and jumped me.
“Like what?”
She stands, aiming for the closet again, but the second the door starts to open she ducks behind the bed instead. She pulls her legs to her chest and lowers her head, trying to make herself as small as possible, but she’s still there, clear as day.
Without thinking, I rip my shirt off and chuck it toward her. It lands on top of her head, and while it doesn’t cover her completely, it’s better than nothing.
I hop up, using the bed to balance me.
“Myles, what happened?” Mom says, but covers her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were changing.”
“Everything’s fine. Just getting ready for bed,” I say.
“I thought you were going to do your homework.”
I fake yawn. “I was but I’m exhausted.”
“Well, if you need anything, let me know,” she says, stepping back out. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The door closes and Emma pulls my shirt off her, holding it between two fingers. “Was stripping really necessary?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
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, my baseball. 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.”
She tilts her head. “Yeah?”
“I’ll take you if you promise to leave me alone after this.”
“Deal.”
I groan, throwing my head back, sick of this never-ending torture. I already know I’m in over my head. “How exactly is this going to work?”
Her eyes dart over to the window she used to come into my room.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Come on. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve snuck out,” she says.
While she’s right, it doesn’t make it more appealing.
She grabs my wrist and tugs me across the room. “You first.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust you not to lock me outside,” she says.
“That doesn’t even make sense. You’d probably march up to my front door and tell my mom everything.”
Her brow knits together. “True.” But then she pushes me closer to the open window. “Still, you first.”
I peer out the window at the dark night, and a shiver goes down my spine.
“Hurry up.”
I pull myself onto the windowsill and lower my leg out.
“Grab the trellis,” she says.
“I know.”
“Then go faster.”
She’s as impatient as ever.
I hang out of the house as I reach for the trellis. It isn’t the most stable escape route, but Emma used it countless times growing up. I grab on to the white plastic with little faith in its ability to hold my weight. I keep my eyes focused on my hands instead of down at the rose bushes below.
I climb lower as the trellis bows and bends.
Emma comes into view, first her leg, then her whole body hanging out as she reaches for the trellis above me.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Coming down.”
“But you need to wait for me. This won’t hold both of us.”
And yet, Emma pulls herself over to the trellis.
My heart speeds up, bracing for impact, but nothing happens.
“See, it’s fine,” she says.
A sharp snap ripples through the air and Emma shrieks, falling.
I jump the rest of the way down, landing on the rose bush seconds before Emma falls. Her body hits me and bounces off, landing in the grass.
Thorns dig into my skin in every direction while Emma holds her head in the fetal position on the ground.
“Are you hurt?” I say, pushing myself off the bush and rushing over to her. I kneel down and move her hands. “Did you hit your head?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Seriously, Emma. How could you be so careless? Do you want to get yourself killed? I told you that wasn’t a good idea. When will you learn?”
She blinks, staring at me for a moment. Her eyes focus on my arm.
“You’re hurt,” she says.
I swallow, looking down at my arm to see blood dripping down from where a thorn broke skin. I was so focused on Emma I hadn’t noticed my own pain.
I put pressure on it. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve gotten hurt because of you.”