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Ali pretended to laugh, not wanting to get into exactly why they were fighting. She hadn’t said a word to Jason since he’d told her that he thought it was a good idea the family was bringing her twin home, and it just seemed easier not to accept rides from him, too.
Cassie then turned and peered at the curb in front of Ali’s house. “Do you have plans?”
Ali followed her gaze. Emily was standing at Ali’s mailbox, putting something inside. But when she saw Ali, she quickly closed the box and stepped away from it as though it were on fire.
“Not that I was aware of,” Ali murmured, a little annoyed at Emily’s presence. Before, when Em showed up unannounced, it was welcome. But now, after everything that had happened, it felt sort of . . . intrusive. Clingy.
Cassie pulled to the curb. Emily stood with her arms at her sides, a timid smile on her face. She made no move to approach Cassie’s Jeep, perhaps waiting for Ali’s permission or introduction. Ali just turned to Cassie and gave her a huge hug. “This was so much fun,” she said. Then she eyed Cassie’s pack of Marlboro Lights. “Can I have one more for the road?”
Cassie raised her eyebrows. “Naughty girl, smoking on your own property! What if your parents see?”
“I don’t care,” Ali said.
Cassie lit the cigarette for Ali, and Ali took a big puff, trying her hardest not to cough. Then Cassie gave her a spritz of Dior perfume and took off. Ali stood with her back to Emily as Cassie turned the corner out of the development. Then, finally, she turned back to her mailbox.
“H-hey,” Emily blurted. “I’m sorry.”
Ali sank into her hip. “Sorry for what?”
“Interrupting. It seemed like you and Cassie were having fun.”
“Uh-huh.” Ali flicked the ash. “She’s awesome.”
Emily’s gaze fell to the cigarette. “You guys smoke?”
Ali shrugged. “So?” She exhaled.
Emily swished the smoke away, then looked embarrassed by the gesture. “I just thought . . . I mean . . .”
Ali tapped the mailbox. It made a hollow, metal sound. “So were you stealing my mail, Em?”
Emily’s mouth fell open. “No! Absolutely not! Actually, I—”
“Because that’s a federal crime, you know,” Ali interrupted. “You know what else is a federal crime in some states? Kissing people in tree houses.”
Emily’s eyes widened. She took a small step back.
Ali breathed out. “I’m kidding.”
“Oh.” Emily licked her lips. “I knew that.”
She turned back to the mailbox, running her fingers over the plastic red flag. A plaintive look settled over her features, and she took a deep breath as if she was about to say something important. All of a sudden, Ali had a horrible thought: What if Emily wanted to talk about things? What if she wanted to, like, get all touchy-feely—literally?
“You know what would be awesome?” Ali cut her off before she could speak. She pointed to the girls down the street. “If you told Mona to stop catwalking. She’s giving fashion a bad name.”
Emily frowned, then gazed at the girls, too. “Now?”
“Uh-huh.”
A pained look crossed Emily’s face. “Ali, I really don’t want to.”
Ali lowered her chin, anger at Emily’s disobedience curling through her veins. “Oh, Mona!” she called, sotto voce. “Guess what Emily likes to do in trees?”
Emily’s eyelashes fluttered. She opened her mouth, but no sounds came out. “Okay,” she squeaked, ducking her head and trudging down the sidewalk.
Ali trailed behind her, watching as Emily intercepted the girls. At first, Chassey’s, Phi’s, and Mona’s eyes lit up when they saw Emily coming. They closed in around her in the same way the alpacas at the garden center Ali’s mom always dragged her to flocked around people at the fence. Even though Ali was standing some distance away, she could see the precise moment when Emily delivered the blow. Mona’s mouth clamped shut. Phi puffed out her cheeks. The corners of Chassey’s mouth turned down. She almost looked like she was going to cry.
Emily stormed back to Ali. “Well, I don’t think they’re going to be catwalking anymore.”
“Thank God,” Ali said. “They were totally bringing down the whole neighborhood, don’t you think? Good work, Em.”
Emily glanced up at her, her chin wobbling. “How’s it going between you and that guy?”
“What guy?”
“You know. The one you told me about. In the tree house. The boy you like.”
Ali pressed her lips together. She’d refrained from sending Nick too many begging texts because she didn’t want to sound desperate, hoping that he’d come to his senses instead. Only, he hadn’t. And when she tried to send him an IM last night, he blocked her from his list.
“Things are going great,” she said, smiling broadly.
Emily’s throat bobbed. Her gaze darted to the mailbox again. She lunged for it and opened the little door, the metal squeaking. Ali put a hand on her arm. “What are you doing?”
Emily blinked. “I . . .”
“Tampering with mail is a federal offense, Em,” Ali said in a saccharine voice.
Emily nodded, then wheeled around and walk-jogged to her tipped-over bike and threw her leg over the bar. “I should go.” Her gaze didn’t leave the mailbox, which she hadn’t closed properly. A single letter sat inside. “I’ll see you later, Ali.”
