Chapter Ten
Emmie
Avoiding Kai is easy now that he’s back with his usual crowd, acting like I don’t exist.“It was nice while it lasted,” Ava sighs, resting her chin on her hand and staring across the field at their group.
“You’re taking this harder than I am,” I say with a half-laugh.She shrugs.
“It was nice to be seen. Now I just feel used.”“He did use us,” I say, shoving my books into my bag.
There’s no way we’re getting any studying done with her watching them like they’re the lost boys of Neverland.
“He needed us when his friends were being dicks.”“Is your mum still seeing his dad?”I shake my head, though I’m pretty sure she’s still talking to him.
The way she lights up every time her phone buzzes says enough.
“No. So at least I don’t have to see him.
” I stand. “Come on. I’m not sitting here while you pine over them like you’re missing out on the meaning of life.
”She groans but lets me pull her up. Kai glances over and Ava gives him a smile which he doesn’t return. Dick.
When I get home, Mum’s in the kitchen humming as she decorates cupcakes.
It’s nice to see her relaxed and happy? “They look amazing,” I say, grabbing the nearest one and taking a huge bite.She laughs.
“Don’t pig out. We’re having dinner in an hour.
”I frown, glancing around the kitchen, noting there’s nothing cooking.
“What’s the occasion?”She hesitates, piping bag in hand, and gives me a guilty smile.
“Don’t freak out.” Uh-oh. “I said we’d go over to Joel’s.
He wants to make it up to us. He invited us for dinner.
”“What?” I shoot up from the stool. “Are you actually out of your mind?”She looks disappointed.
“I knew you’d react like this.”“But you still said yes.”“I like him, Emmie. And maybe you don’t understand what that feels like-”“Don’t patronise me,” I snap.She breathes out slowly.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. But I do like Joel.
I’m willing to hear him out. The least you can do is come with me, listen to what he’s got to say and then make a judgement.
”I stare at her. She looks hopeful. A bit nervous, even.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll come. Hear him out.
And then talk some sense into you.”Her shoulders relax. “Perfect. Go shower and change.”
Joel opens the door with the energy of an excited puppy.
The second he sees me, his smile stutters.
Guess he didn’t expect me to actually show up.
Good . I hope he’s uncomfortable.“Emmie, thank you so much for coming,” he says too warmly.I flash a sugary smile.
“Good to see you, Officer Banks.”His hands disappear into his pockets as I brush past and follow Mum to the kitchen.
“It smells amazing,” she says. “No Kai?”“He’s heading to a party,” Joel replies, joining us.
Of course he is. “I want to start by saying I’m sorry,” he adds, leaning on the counter like he’s rehearsed this in the mirror.
“For?” I ask, raising my brow as I cross my arms.“Emmie,” Mum warns quietly.
“It’s a serious question,” I say. “If he doesn’t know what he’s apologising for, what’s the point?
”“He does,” she says quickly, as if Joel can’t speak for himself.
Kai barrels into the kitchen, stopping cold when he sees me. His mouth opens like he’s about to say something, then shuts again. He turns to his dad. “What’s for dinner?”Joel blinks. “Er . . . Italian pasta salad.”“Great. I’ll set the table.” He grabs placemats and moves to the drawer.
Mum gives me a stern look. “We’ll talk later.
Go help Kai.”I roll my eyes hard but head over, grabbing the cutlery and laying it out.
“I didn’t know they were still together,” Kai mutters, glancing toward our parents, who are now deep in conversation.
“Me either. After tonight, they won’t be.
”“No?”“You really think I’m letting your aggressive dad anywhere near my mum?
”He shrugs. “He’s got issues. I don’t blame you.
I just . . .” He sighs. “At least hear him out.”“You sound like her,” I mutter.
“I don’t owe him anything. Neither does she.
”We finish setting the table in silence.
We sit around the table like the world’s most dysfunctional family, with plates of pasta salad in front of us and cutlery clinking like background music to the awkward silence. Mum is doing her best act, smiling too much, pretending like this isn’t the most uncomfortable dinner in existence.
Joel clears his throat. “So, Emmie, how’s school?”
I stab a cherry tomato and don’t look up. “Still exists.”
Mum shoots me a look. “She’s doing great. Top of her class in English Lit.”
I shrug. “Not hard when everyone else thinks Shakespeare is a rapper.”
Joel laughs politely. “That’s good. Shows you’ve got your mum’s brains.”
I glance up at him, sweetly. “Didn’t realise you knew her well enough to make that call.”
Mum sets down her fork a little too carefully. “She’s just tired.”
“I’m fine,” I say brightly. “Loving the small talk, though. Really riveting stuff.”
Joel wipes his mouth with a napkin and tries again. “I wanted to say again, Emmie, I’m sorry. For everything. I wasn’t in a good place when we first met. But I’ve stopped drinking. I’m trying to be better.”
I give him a slow clap. Literally. One, two, three exaggerated claps. “Wow. Want a medal or a pat on the back?”
Mum closes her eyes like she’s counting to ten.
Joel exhales through his nose. “I get it. I probably deserve that. But I’m serious. I haven’t had a drink all week.”
“Should we mark it on the fridge like a toddler’s reward chart?” I ask, twirling my fork. “A month of good behaviour and you get a sticker?”
“Emmie,” Mum warns.
“No, it’s fine,” Joel says. “She doesn’t trust me. I get it. I’ve earned that.”
“Glad we agree on something.”
He picks at his salad. “I just want to fix things. With both of you.”
I lean back in my chair. “You don’t get to just fix things. This isn’t IKEA. You don’t show up with an Allen key and a sad salad and expect us to forget everything.”
Mum looks pained, like she wants to both laugh and cry. “Can we just eat, please?”
“Sure,” I say, stabbing another tomato. “Let’s all bond over cold carbs and repressed trauma.”
Joel sets down his fork. “Emmie, I’m not trying to replace anyone. Or force anything. I just want the chance to show you that I’ve changed.”
I meet his eyes. “Then you’re gonna need a hell of a lot more than pasta and a speech.”
He nods slowly, then looks to Mum, who gives him a tight, encouraging smile like he just survived a battlefield.
I roll my eyes and focus on my plate. I can feel Mum softening already, and it pisses me off. He messed up. He was awful. And now he makes one decent meal and says the right words, and suddenly, she’s glowing like it’s a rom-com dinner scene.
Not happening. Not if I can help it.
I push my plate away, the clink of cutlery sharper than it needs to be. “I’m done.”
Mum looks up, startled. “You haven’t eaten anything.”
“Not hungry.” I stand, grabbing my phone. “I’m going out.”
Joel raises an eyebrow. “Now?”
“I can’t think of a better time, Joel. Can you?” And I head towards the hallway.
“Emmie,” Mum says, her voice tight. “We’re having dinner.”
“No. You two are pretending we’re one big happy family. I’m not playing along.”
I toss a glance over my shoulder at Kai who’s watching the whole scene unfold with confusion. “Let’s go.”
“Me?” he asks.
“Yes, we’re going to that precious party you ditched for this shit show.”
His frown is immediate. “You don’t even like parties.”
“Yeah, well, turns out I don’t like family dinners either.”
We step out into the hall, Kai closing the door behind us. “Emmie, seriously, is this a good idea?”
I whirl on him. “Oh, now you care?”
He blinks. “What?”
“You haven’t spoken to me all week, Kai. Not a word. Not even a ‘hi’ in the hallway. So, forgive me if I don’t buy the concerned act.”
“It’s not an act.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “You just seem off . And going to this party in this mood-”
“Oh, please,” I cut in, stepping past him toward the street. “I’m not in a mood . I’m just done pretending everything’s fine. And if I wanna get drunk and stupid tonight, that’s my choice.”
I can already feel the storm brewing inside me.
And tonight, I’m not stopping it.
Kai
I get us a lift, texting Austin even though I know it’s a gamble; he’s not exactly Emmie’s biggest fan.
When his beat-up car pulls up beside the curb, I half expect her to roll her eyes or start muttering under her breath.
But she doesn’t. She just gets in without a word, clips her seatbelt with a snap, and turns her head to glare out the window like she’s on a mission.
She’s like a human pressure cooker, and one wrong word, and she’ll blow.
I climb into the front passenger seat, and Austin grins, fist-bumping me. “Thought you bailed on us.”
“Changed my mind,” I mutter, settling into the seat.
He glances in the rearview, smirking. “And you’re babysitting too?”
“Don’t you ever just stop?” Emmie snaps before I can even think of a response. Her voice is sharp, brittle. “Grow the fuck up, Austin, or one day you’ll find yourself alone and depressed with only a cat for company.”
Austin chokes on a laugh. “Jesus.”
“I’m serious,” she continues, tone flat. “You think everything’s a joke. One day you’ll wake up and realise you wasted your whole life being an idiot no one actually liked.”
Austin lifts a hand in mock surrender. “Alright. Message received.”
The silence after that is loud, and he doesn’t say another word for the next five minutes.