Pages of Amber

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

SINKING.

She was sinking, left to the unknown depths that called her, lulling her in with a false sense of safety. She had fought them all her life. She had tried her best to stay afloat, to keep her sunshine. She had done everything she thought she could.

She was tired now.

Her heart ached, a little too battered and bruised. A final blow was all it needed to fall out of her chest. She laid on the carpeted rug in her room as footsteps sounded at her door. Dottie asked her if she would like anything to eat. She didn’t move. There was no fixing the twinge in her stomach when all she felt was the tear in her chest. Her eyes stung, her closed palm hiding painful half-moon prints from digging her nails in, her mind haunted by that horrible hallway argument. Like a nightmare, it replayed in her mind. Beverly’s words had cut deeper than skin. Maybe because she had been right. Maybe because deep down she knew she deserved to hear them and it had just been a long time coming. Then she’d done the worst thing. She had taken that hurt and poured it on the wrong person. Noah.

The fist in her chest squeezed harder. He would never forgive her. She had insulted him, thrown his fears in his face, mocked him with the very things he had told her in confidence and had basically pushed him out the door. If he hadn’t truly hated her before, there was no doubt he did now.

They had been at the brink of hope, a beautiful connection and so many possibilities between them. But she had ruined it. She had tripped off the cliff and dragged him down with her. They both laid at the bottom now, broken shards of what could have been.

A hot trail made its way down her cheek. More followed in its wake. From a trickle to a stream. Her wounds flowed freely as her tears did. Her cries were soundless, tearing out of her like the last prayers of a dying man. She gripped her arms, hugging them to herself. She was her only comfort now. She had always been her own safe space.

She wasn’t sure she felt safe anymore.

She lay against the floor, stripped of her strength. The tears continued to come. She let them, helpless to do anything to stop the pain.

“You won’t move it, Helena?”

The low threat laced in her mother’s voice gripped Amber by the throat. Goosebumps raced up her arms and she squeezed them tighter against her folded knees. Her back hunched forward, her hair a curtain around her as she listened.

“You do understand I also have controlling shares in Fleur Elysian and I will buy more if I have to push this production myself,” her mother continued. The sharp click of her heels echoed against the tile as she paced.

One. Two. Three. Pause.

One. Two. Three. Pause.

“Then don’t make me do this the hard way, Helena. No, you listen. More than anyone, you can understand how important it is that she is part of this. This was the very same kind of production that launched us into our professional careers.” Her mother paused then scoffed. “Don’t give me that nonsense. It doesn’t matter that she’s missed the audition. You’ve seen her dance the part yourself. You were eager enough to defend her when the performance was horrible. At least now she’s made some improvement. Are you the Director there or not? No one has the right to question you! For god sakes, Helena. Amber will be in that production as Kitri or so help me.”

Her mom fell into silence, and the goosebumps spread more as Amber listened. Scared that Director Meusall would allow her to dance the part. Scared that she wouldn’t.

“I mean, sure. The doctor said a few weeks off her ankle and such but we are dancers, Helena. We dance through the pain… Yes, she will dance as perfectly as if she’d never sprained the ankle. I don’t even understand why she would do this to herself at this moment…She’s my daughter, Helena. I don’t need parenting advice from you. She will dance because I said so.” An audible gasp. Her mother was silent for several minutes. “Helena, don’t you dare… I will come down to that theatre and you don’t want that. Helena!”

Angry snarls rent the air for a few seconds. The clatter of plastic against glass made Amber jump, her back jarring the cold wall. The room remained silent, then a sigh, followed by the swish of material as her mother sank into the sofa.

“Why do you ruin everything I do?” The question came in a whisper.

Amber gripped her knees till they turned white. Her ankle protested, throbbing along with the organ in her chest. Her throat clogged again. She was tired of how easily the tears came. She was tired of the pain. She was tired of being the disappointment her mother always said she was.

As quietly as she could, Amber moved away from the wall. Her back ached as she crawled away from her hiding spot beside the living room doors. She had been bent over for longer than she thought or out of practice from stretching since she hadn’t exercised or danced in a week.

She hobbled to the staircase, keeping her weight off her right foot as much as she could. Dottie stepped out of the kitchen when her hands clutched the rail. She smiled, her gaze tender on Amber. “Dinner’s ready. Are you going to eat in your room again?”

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

Dottie’s smile didn’t fall but the edges tightened. “Doctor Roberts gave strict orders that you eat better and take your meds. Both for your body and your injury.”

Yes, Doctor Roberts had stressed that. In fact, he had been near his wit’s end when he took a full checkup on Amber and found her calorie levels dangerously low. The doctor had insisted on plenty of rest and a full diet, as least for the next week. The former was easy. The school had processed her two-week sick leave immediately after the school’s doctor had first checked her, then Doctor Roberts had confirmed the prognosis at her mother’s demand.

The latter instruction hadn’t gone down well with her mother, however. A ballerina couldn’t be enjoying a full diet, breakfast till dinner, when she had an important audition and performance coming up. Doctor Roberts had gotten red in the face at her mother’s argument. Concluding his judgment, he had banned Amber from going to the audition. Any strain on her ankle would only further the sprain into a likely ligament tear. She wasn’t allowed near the theatre or the dance room for the next two weeks.

It had been an adjustment being locked in the house for so long. Dottie was always eager to keep her company but Amber wanted her space. This was the first time in a few days she had ventured beyond her bedroom and the kitchen for ice. She wanted nothing more than to hide out again. But Dottie was still looking at her, worry etched on her elderly face. Amber lowered her eyes. It sat on the tip of her tongue to tell Dottie to stop worrying about her. She didn’t deserve it.

“I’ll eat later.”

“Before your medication time, yes?”

“Sure.” She escaped before Dottie could ask her anything else. In her room, the carpet beneath her feet was a little reprieve on her ankle, the softness making it easier for her to step across the room.

Her phone rested on her reading table along with the literature assignment she had never submitted. Another reminder of her failure. Amber picked the bundle of papers, her hands moving across the title page. A wave of sadness rocked her as she was reminded of all the library sessions they’d had over the past few weeks. Emmett throwing his head back in laughter and getting shushed by Mrs. Filch repeatedly. Evelyn complaining about her assignments, then turning to Noah to beg him to answer them. Her puppy dog eyes always got to him. Noah had never complained though. He’d simply roll his eyes, drag her notebook to himself and start on it. He was selfless when it came to those he cared about. A week ago, she could have said she was one of them. Until she had pushed him away.

The papers crinkled as her grip tightened. She had let her phone die when their messages started coming in. Amber had been too ashamed to answer them, too deep in the pain she had hidden for so long. They didn’t need to see the mess she really was. Amber pushed away from the table. Her hand hovered over the bin near her desk, the papers clutched in her grip. Her hands shook. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t throw away hers and Noah’s hard work, or the memories she had made along the way. This silly project had brought her and Noah together. If it was the last she had of him, she’d rather keep that reminder. With a sigh, she opened one of the drawers and dropped the project in.

She stared at the pointe shoes, warnings running through her head.

Don’t do it.

Your ankle isn’t healed yet.

It’s not worth it to hurt yourself more.

Put the shoes away.

She didn’t listen to any of them.

Her ankle began to throb as she tied the ribbons, as though knowing the pain she was about to inflict.

The music played from the speaker, low and somber so as not to invite attention to the studio. She started with a variation she knew, but could barely keep on her toes. Every twist and turn sent pain flaring through her toes, her ankle, her calves. A realization struck her as she stumbled gracelessly across the hardwood floor. She hadn’t stretched before she started dancing.

Was there anything she could do right? Why was she always a failure? Why did she constantly find ways to disappoint herself and others?

The tears gathered in her eyes, blurring the room around her. She spun, out of rhythm with the music that was swallowed up by the taunts, the doubts, the fears in her mind. She raised her hands and went for an assemblé, gasping in pain when her balance shifted and she landed hard. She stumbled again, almost slipping on the floors. The tears made it hard to see. Lifting her chin, she imagined her mother seated in the chair by the corner, watching her every move. Fear coursed through her. Sweat beaded her forehead. Tears blinded her.

A strangled sob left her as she started to spin. One miserable dégagé turn after the other. It was inevitable that she would return to the one thing that had been a priority all her life because her mother said so. The one thing that had dictated everything about her. The one thing that made her bow to her mother, to the cutting words, the grueling pain without saying a word in protest. She was back to the very root of her ruin. Ballet.

The irony wasn’t easily lost on her. What ballet didn’t end in some tragedy? Unfortunately for Amber, she was the lost soul in this dance. Her hair whipped against her face as she spun from one end of the room to another, every part of her on fire. The aging was almost too much to bear, only overshadowed by the hurt in her chest. One more, she coached herself. It never happened.

Her feet fell out from beneath her as she slipped, unable to save herself. In a second, she was on her feet. The next, she slammed hard into the ground, a silent scream leaving her patched throat as her injured ankle bounced against the floor. This was what she had been asking for, wasn’t it? More pain and hurt. The vicious cycle she had never escaped.

Curling in on herself, she peered down through the tears that dripped out of her eyes and into her hair. The sight she met made the tears flow harder. Crimson red contrasted against pale pink. The mark of life staining the symbol of her gift. It dotted across the room where her feet had been, trailing after her as she struggled to dance. Her chest tightened, the urge to call for help lodged in her throat.

But would anyone want to save her? When she had failed to save herself?

A faint echo rang in her eyes. Someone was calling for her. The sound came again, as if from far away. Amber felt as though she’d been dunked underwater, the current rushing past her ears and blinding her. Her bones felt heavy, her head swam and pain throbbed up both feet.

“Amber?”

The voice was closer and so familiar. Amber opened her eyes. She blinked when she saw nothing. Another blink, slow and lethargic, before realizing the room was pitch dark. The air seemed to press in on her at the realization. The darkness she had been lost to moments ago now frightened her. A cry left her throat, low and pained. By some grace she would never understand, it was heard. The door pushed open, light from the corridor spilling in behind two figures, momentarily stinging her eyes.

“Oh my god, Amber!”

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A gasp rent the air. “Dottie, she’s bleeding. We need a first aid kit.”

“Bathroom in the hall. The top cabinet.” Footsteps rushed back through the hallway. The whisper of clothes dragging against the floor turned her head. “Hold still, dear. We’ll get you upstairs.”

We? Dottie moved her hands underneath her shoulder, pushing her up. Her head forward, her vision swimming. She felt sick but knew her stomach was empty. Another touch at her shoulder jolted her. The silhouette moved beside her, raising Amber’s arm onto her shoulders. The light from the hallway fell onto her face and Amber’s eyes prickled at the familiar face that stared at her in concern. Evelyn.

They supported her, their arms around her as they made their way to her room. Amber fell limp in their arms, aching all over. Evelyn’s grip tightened on her arm as they crossed the threshold into the mess of her room, her feet barely sweeping the floor. Dottie directed them to the bathroom where they sat her on the toilet lid with Evelyn standing at her side. Dottie rushed over to the tub and began to fill it as Evelyn bent to untie her pointes.

A pained hiss left her when Evelyn touched her ankle. “Sorry,” her friend’s voice was soft and sympathetic. Her hands skirted around her ribbons and Amber bit her lip. It throbbed even more than her toes did. Evelyn didn’t need to apologize. She had done this to herself. No doubt she had stupidly set back her recovery. Tiny pinpricks stung the back of her eyes and she hung her head.

A collective gasp left them as Evelyn peeled off her pointes. She had forgotten to add any protective layer on her feet. Her toes were mangled, with open blisters and blood everywhere.

A sob caught in her throat at her recklessness. Her mother was right. She had been right about all of it. Amber was thoughtless, she was undeserving, she was selfish. How could anyone love the disaster that was her? How could she have expected such a thing from her mother who had always seen her for the mistake she was?

Her cries tore from her, an agonizing sound that echoed in the tiled bathroom with Evelyn and Dottie as her witnesses. A horrible rattling filled her chest and she pressed her hand against it, drawing into herself. Stuck in her head, Amber could barely feel the arms that wrapped around her, Dottie and Evelyn’s grip tight as though trying to hold the pieces of her together. She didn’t see the tears that ran down Dottie’s cheeks. She didn’t hear Evelyn offer comforts in a quivering voice.

She didn’t see Beverly standing at the bathroom door, the first aid kit clutched in her trembling fingers as she watched her best friend who had always been the one to pull others from the darkness, succumb to it instead.

“Here you go.”

The steaming mug of hot chocolate was placed in her hands. Amber held back a sniffle, her hands wrapping around the offering.

“Thank you, Dottie.” Her scratchy voice made her wince.

Dottie patted her hair, a sad smile gracing her face. She tucked Amber further into the blanket and left her to the company of her friends. Her room was silent, Evelyn pacing the floor and Beverly hunched at the study desk, her expression withdrawn.

Amber swallowed thickly, wondering what to say, how to fill the air. She wanted to tell Beverly how glad she was to see her, she wanted to thank Evelyn for coming when she didn’t have the courage to call her friend, she wanted to ask them about so many things. What tumbled from her instead was an apology. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m so–”

“Stop,” Beverly interrupted, her voice sharp. “You need to stop doing this, Amber. Stop apologizing for every little thing, even when it makes you miserable. No one is perfect, but you were. All the time.” Her voice broke, her eyes turning down as tears filled them. “I should have realized what it took from you to be like that. I’ve been a terrible friend.”

Another apology sprang to her mind and Amber pursed her lips to keep it in.

Beverly’s teary gaze fell on hers knowingly. She sighed in exasperation. “You’re about to apologize again, aren’t you?”

She couldn’t deny it. Amber sniffled, her palms slick against the mug’s heat. “But it’s because you really deserve this one,” she started. “Beverly, I am unbelievably sorry for everything. I shouldn’t have made you out to be the bad guy. I shouldn’t have accused you. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I keep saying you’re my best friend but at the first sign of doubt, I treated you like a traitor. I’m so sorry for doing that to you. I completely understand if you hate me. I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore.”

Beverly scoffed amidst the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Of course I don’t want that. I’m here, right?”

Evelyn finally spoke up from across the room. “What Beverly means to say is, we’re here because we were worried about you. I bumped into her in school and asked if she’d had any luck contacting you, but when she said none of her messages and calls had gone through either, we decided to come over today. We got talking on the drive and found out it was all a huge misunderstanding.”

Beverly nodded hastily. “And I owe you an apology too. I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff I did. You’re right. I was blinded by anger and jealous, but you have to know I would never betray you like that to your mother. I have always been on your side, Amber. That was never going to change, even if you made new best friends.”

Amber almost choked on the sob that left her. The mug was forgotten as she dumped in on the bedside table and leaned forward, arms outstretched to her best friend. Beverly came to her immediately, her knees sinking into the mattress beside Amber as they clasped hands.

“I knew you wouldn’t, but I was blinded by my own anger. I shouldn’t have kept you at a distance when I started hanging out with Evelyn and Emmett. I’m sorry for making you think you weren’t my best friend in the whole world. I’ve missed you so much, and it hurts to think that you hate me.”

“Nothing could ever make me hate my bestie.” Beverly cried. Her arms reached around Amber in a tight hug, exactly what she needed.

A sniffle across the room turned both their heads. Evelyn stood at the foot of the bed, wiping stray tears from her cheeks. “I wanna join the group hug,” she whined.

Amber couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. Throwing their arms wider in invitation, Evelyn jumped onto the other side of Amber, her arms wrapping around hers and Beverly’s waist. Sniffles passed between them. Tears flowed freely. More apologies were mumbled and forgiveness was readily given. Amber squeezed her friends tightly, embracing their warmth and sinking into their comfort. Only an hour ago, she had laid hopelessly on the ballet studio floor but now she was starting to see the light at the end of the darkness.

“Feel better?” Evelyn asked, patting her knee.

“Much.” Amber smiled. “Especially after that delicious meal. I’ve never had so much Chinese food at once.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m barely satisfied. I want ten more of those egg dumplings. And that stew? Mouthwatering.” Evelyn snapped her head accusingly to Beverly as she entered the room carrying a tray laden with tall glasses of orange juice. “You didn’t tell me your cousin was a magician in the kitchen, Bev. I would have eaten out his entire store by now.”

“Then thank God I didn’t.” Beverly laughed as she passed the glasses to them. Setting the tray aside, she jumped back in the bed. “Okay, I’m ready. Unpause.”

Evelyn clicked on the remote, resuming the movie on the TV that Amber rarely used. The scene continued, the volume raising as Bella yelled at Jacob for marking her daughter. Amber watched her veins pop beneath her skin, anger clear in her eyes as she berated the werewolf.

Beverly nudged her. “That’s like me and you in the hallway.”

A sick feeling roiled in her, only slightly eased when she noticed her friend’s joking tone. Amber responded in kind, “I didn’t throw you into a tree though.”

Evelyn giggled into her glass.

“You would have if there was one around.” Beverly laughed. Her hand landed on Amber’s. “I should probably tell you how proud I was of you. Well, not the accusation part, but the fact that you stood up for yourself. And while it didn’t feel great to be on the other end of your anger, I was also happy you didn’t keep it bottled in.”

Amber perfectly recalled everything about that horrible fight. The way she saw red, the biting anger in her chest, the pain in her palms of how hard she clenched her nails. But the more she thought about it, she realized something.

“It felt good, you know.” Her eyes lifted to the ceiling, tracing the chandelier light. “To let it out. I still felt so angry that day, then later I felt guilty. But there was some relief mixed in there.” Like she had lifted a massive burden from her shoulders. Her gaze lowered to Beverly and Evelyn. “Does that make me a bad person? That I felt relief after being so nasty to my friend?”

“Not at all. Emotions can get ugly sometimes,” Beverly added. “They fill up in your chest and cancel out rational thoughts. But keeping them in does more bad than good sometimes.”

Evelyn clutched at her arm. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve yelled at Emmett for doing something I told him not to or when my older sister pisses me off. It doesn’t matter that you yell and shout. What matters is that you make amends for it.”

Making amends? Hadn’t she successfully burned that bridge with Noah? Tears brimmed in her eyes at the memory of what she’d said to him. There was no relief then. There was only loss and despair.

Amber held onto their hands as she whispered, “Noah and I fought in the nurse's office. It wasn’t banter or an argument like before. I said some really awful things.”

Beverly gaped, “Is that why he’s been such a grump at school? Everyone’s been staying clear of him since you left.”

Amber’s eyes bugged. Had she single-handedly ruined everything they had worked for? Was Noah at risk of losing his position as school president because of her?

Evelyn sighed. “I had a feeling that was what happened. He’s being holing up either at the school library or Mr. Arthur’s bookstore. We’ve tried asking him what’s wrong but he won’t say anything.”

Oh no. Her knuckles ached from how hard her fists were clenched. “It’s my fault. I was so angry and I wasn’t even mad at him. I was mad about everything else that happened. He didn’t deserve that.” She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes as she sniffled. “He’s never going to forgive me, is he?”

“You haven’t asked for his forgiveness,” Evelyn said with a squeeze to her arm. “But if I know Noah as well as I do, when it comes to you, he’ll forgive you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. In fact, let’s call him. We’ll find out where he is. If you’re feeling up to it, go to him.”

Her lips pursed, the organ in her chest pounding anxiously at the thought of having to face him. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

“Hey,” Beverly interjected. “I might not know much about Noah but something about him always made you happy. You called him your nemesis but there was this twinkle you got in your eye every time you argued with him. Remember the day we met out front at the fountain? You walked out the door with him and you had the goofiest smile I’ve ever seen on you. You were happy .”

Tears dribbled down her cheeks at Beverly’s words, but the sorrow that would have accompanied them was overshadowed by the memories of the past three weeks.

“He does make me happy,” she gasped at the realization. “I met his mom. She’s the nicest person ever and she let it slip that he talked about me so much she could recognize me from the moment we met.” A soft giggle went round them. “He took me to this amazing meadow. The stars were so beautiful, girls. He’s been by my side almost constantly these past few weeks, he listens to me, he makes me feel like me.”

“Sounds like he’s a genius and a romantic,” Beverly gushed.

“I’m so scared I’ll lose him like I lost you.” Her blurry gaze flew to Beverly.

“I came back, didn’t I? Sure, I needed the space to think things over but I’m here. Noah has had the past few days to himself. I think it’s time you burst that bubble before he loses himself altogether.”

Evelyn bobbed her head. “Agreed. Wipe those tears, girlie. I’m going to call him.”

Her chest still squeezed but Beverly’s grip slipping into hers infused some strength into her. She could do this. She would do this. Even if it took all her energy to leave the bed and find Noah.

Evelyn turned to them, transferring the phone from her ear back to her hand as she typed furiously. Her brows creased as she said, “Okay, bad news. Noah isn’t picking up. I’m texting Emmett to see if he knows where he is. Good news is Noah’s a hermit and it’s the weekend. There’s only a couple of places he would be. But let’s see if Emmett knows first.”

Amber nodded, her heart in her throat. Her mind drifted as she began to go over what she would say when she saw him. She had a long list of things to apologize for. She’d made Noah into the enemy for years, she’d misunderstood him from the first day they met, she’d yelled at him after the incident on the field with… Her mind trailed off in that direction. To the whole reason she was stuck in her house with a healing ankle, to the reason she’d lost a place in the theatre’s audition and as Amber was beginning to suspect, the reason her mom had known about her and Noah.

First, she asked, “What about… Lexi?”

The girls turned to her, eyes wide as though surprised she’d asked. They shared a glance that was hard to miss, unspoken words filtering between them.

Evelyn asked cautiously, “What do you want to know?”

Amber sighed. “I know for certain she tripped me at the field. You saw it, too. And when I was being carried out, I saw her smiling.” She left out the part where it has wracked shivers through her. She turned to Beverly. “She was the one who ratted me out to my mom, wasn’t she?”

Beverly’s dark eyes were sad, but she nodded slowly. “We were hanging out the weekend after you and I talked at Scoop Parlor and I let it slip that you and Noah were working together for the meantime. She asked if your mom knew about it, and I said she didn’t because it would probably be a disaster if she found out. I thought she was concerned for you. I should have seen the truth.”

“No.” Amber quickly tackled her friend’s guilt. “It was a personal problem she had against me. You weren’t aware of any signs, but I should’ve been.”

“It’s none of your fault,” Evelyn interrupted. “Betraying and injuring her best friend so she could win some stupid audition is on her. She made the mistake.”

Amber froze, denial flaring in her. “You think she did it to win the audition? It was a fair competition. There’s no reason she had to shove me out.”

A heavy sigh left Evelyn. “She must have seen you as a threat to her. It’s the only logical explanation. She got you injured so you couldn’t dance for either the audition or the performance.”

Beverly ran a hand through her hair, shoving the inky locks over her shoulder. “Has she ever really been our friend? To have done something so cruel, she must have hated us.”

Her friend’s hurt mirrored her own. It was almost unthinkable that Lexi, sweet and kind and bubbly, had done this, but the evidence was clear. How far back did this go? Amber wondered. She had been so serious about Amber’s return to the theatre and how everyone would praise her for getting second place at the regional competition. She’d been snippy when the audition dance was announced and said it wasn’t fair because Amber knew it. She hadn’t wanted to dance with Evelyn and Amber after practice again but her eyes had followed Amber through every class, watching her every move around the room. Stupidly, she thought her friend was trying to learn the movements like everyone else in class. A memory flashed in her mind. The pills in Lexi’s bag. The crazed look in her eyes just before she had tripped Amber.

Was it all tied together?

She was almost scared to ask anymore. “And the audition results?”

Evelyn winced. Beverly turned away. Their expressions were not encouraging at all.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Evelyn asked, her brows tipped down in concern.

No, she wasn’t. She didn’t want to believe Lexi would have ruined their friendship over a role in a ballet performance. Instead she asked, “What about you? How was the performance?”

Evelyn’s smile split her face, chasing the gloominess that had set over them. She began to bounce on her spot on the bed, jostling Amber and Beverly.

“It was amazing. Director Meusall was on the panel of Judges and she smiled at me when I finished my part. I wanted to scream. You’ll never guess the role they gave me. I’m going to be the Queen of the Dryads!”

Amber shrieked in excitement. “I’m so proud of you, Eve. This is huge. I knew you were gonna be amazing.”

Beverly scratched her head. “I heard Queen, so it’s a huge part?”

Evelyn laughed, “You tell me. I’m gonna be in a sparkly dress and a tiara. A tiara! And the spotlight will be on me for almost three minutes!”

“Can’t wait to see you on the big stage.” Beverly giggled.

“It’s going to be magical.” Evelyn cheered. Her phone lit up with a notification beside her. “Oh, enough about me. Emmett said Noah told him he’d be at Hidden Gems shelving new books for Mr. Arthur.”

“Then that’s where she needs to go.” Beverly nodded. She turned inquisitive eyes on Amber. “You ready?”

Anxiety, nervousness and fear roiled in her stomach, but she dug deep in search of courage. “You girls think this will work?”

“Only one way to find out.” Evelyn smiled.

She was right. One step at a time. Change into something cute and comfortable, get to the bookstore, apologize to Noah.

“Yeah okay.” She nodded shakily. “I’m ready.”

“Let’s do this, girls.” Beverly cheered.

Evelyn whooped. “Yes! We’re getting your boy genius back!”