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She cleared her throat. “You look cute today, Em.”
A bewildered look fluttered across Emily’s features. “I do?”
“Uh-huh. Your hair looks nice. And I didn’t realize how tiny your butt was from swimming.”
“Oh my God, my butt is huge.” Emily looked like she was about to faint. “Well, you always look nice, Ali.”
“Well, then I guess we’re both gorgeous,” Ali said, nudging her playfully.
Emily’s mouth twitched with excitement. “You’re definitely the prettiest girl in this rink. In Rosewood. Sometimes I can’t even believe I know you.”
Ali felt heat rush to her face, tears dot her eyes—she hadn’t known how much she’d needed that sort of stuff said to her. Embarrassed, she turned away and swallowed it down. “I can’t believe I know you, either, Em.” She meant it in more ways than one: If she hadn’t switched with her sister, she wouldn’t know Emily.
The lights in the rink suddenly dimmed, and a slow song began to play. The little kids hurried off the ice, and the remaining couples glided toward each other to slow-dance skate.
“Couples skate only,” an announcer’s voice said over the loudspeaker. “Grab the one you love.”
A disco ball snapped on, sending shards of sparkling light all around the glassy rink. Ali turned to Emily, her heart thudding fast. “Wanna dance?”
Emily’s lips parted, and her eyes widened. “With you?” she said, shocked.
Ali smiled lazily, trying to control her jumping heart. “Sure, with me. Girls can skate with girls, can’t they?”
She placed her hands on Emily’s waist. She tried to ignore Emily’s shaking fingers as Emily wrapped them around Ali’s neck. After a moment, Emily shut her eyes. A tiny smile appeared on her face. They swayed back and forth to the beat.
“This feels good, doesn’t it?” Ali whispered in Emily’s ear.
Emily nodded nervously. When Ali pulled her even closer, Emily let out the tiniest sigh. The disco lights dappled against their faces. Ali could feel Emily’s lungs rapidly expand and contract.
Bzzzz.
Ali’s back pocket vibrated. She reached for it and pulled out her phone. Call from anonymous, it said.
Reality came tumbling back, and Ali pulled away. “Hello?” she demanded into the phone, stopping short on the ice. A couple almost collided with her, but she didn’t care.
No answer, just breathing. “Say something!” Ali screamed. “I know who this is!”
Her sister didn’t speak, only let out a small, high-pitched giggle.
“Ali?”
Emily touched her arm. Ali stared at her, the phone limp in her hand. Emily’s eyes flicked to it. “Who is it?” she asked worriedly.
Ali shook her head quickly. “It’s just Cassie,” she said, pulling the first name she could think of out of her mind. “We’ve been pranking each other all week. No biggie.”
Emily pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. “Are you . . . sure?”
“Uh-huh,” Ali chirped, shoving her phone back into her pocket. It vibrated again, but she ignored it.
Another slow song started up, and Emily reached for Ali’s hand once more. But Ali pulled away, feeling sweaty and flustered and way, way too visible. What if her sister was somehow watching right now? What if she saw Ali doing this and thought she was dancing with Emily for real?
“I think one slow dance is enough for today, don’t you, Em?” she asked, trying to make her voice teasing, even though she was exhausted and frazzled.
Emily’s cheeks turned pink. “O-of course! I didn’t want to dance! I just wanted to get a hot dog—and I wanted to see if you wanted one, too!”
But the devoted smile lingered in Ali’s mind, and as they glided toward the exit, a sour feeling welled in her stomach. Saying nice things hit Emily in her sweetest, squishiest, most vulnerable spot. And while teasing out vulnerability was usually Ali’s specialty, something about this made her feel especially guilty.
Perhaps it was because Emily was her best friend. Or perhaps it was because, deep down, the things Emily said back sometimes made Ali feel squishy and vulnerable, too.
20
THE BOMB
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?” Nick asked Ali on the phone the following afternoon.
“One,” Ali said automatically, propping her feet against the wall of her bedroom and staring at the ceiling. “You?”
“I’m an only child. It was tough growing up. I was always playing by myself.”
“Yeah, but you got all the attention,” Ali pointed out.
Nick groaned. “Everyone who has siblings always says that. But it wasn’t that much fun.”
“I would have loved to be an only child,” Ali murmured, more to herself than to Nick.
She rolled over onto her stomach. She’d been on the phone with Nick for forty-five minutes and thirty-six seconds—not that she was counting. This was the longest conversation she’d ever had with a boy, and they still hadn’t run out of things to talk about.
“How about friends?” Nick asked. “You got a best friend, or a group, or what?”
“I have a group—they’re all my best friends.” Ali picked at her nail polish. “I’m not sure about things between us right now, though.”
He paused. “Are you in a fight?”
“Not exactly. They just . . . well, some of them aren’t the people I thought they were. Has that ever happened to you?”
