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“Hey,” he gru
mbles, staring Bridgett down.
“This is Bridgett,” I put my hand on her shoulder, hoping to defuse everything. I shoot him a look as if trying to communicate telepathically – this one’s okay, I promise. Just be nice. “And this is Emmett,” I nod over to him.
“Hey man, what’s up?” she says coolly, embodying her Californian roots.
He lifts his chin briefly in a half-hearted greeting, but mostly just keeps darting his eyes back to me in disbelief. “I waited for you after school,” he says dryly. “I thought I’d walk you to practice like always. And then I thought I’d drive you home.”
“Oh, sorry,” I answer awkwardly, wishing he could have saved the interrogation for later.
“Hey, I’m gonna go heat up the car,” Bridgett tells me. “I’ll wait for you. Nice to meet you, Emmett.”
“Okay, cool,” I smile towards her just before she runs off shivering. I want to go running after her, but Emmett’s eyes are burning into me expectantly.
“What the fuck?” he scoffs.
“She’s nice,” I instantly defend, knowing what he’s thinking. “Or she seems nice anyway. She knows she’s not supposed to be friends with me, but we’re just gonna keep it on the down low.”
“Have you lost your mind!?” his voice strains. “She’s an Elite, Ophelia! Did you forget that they just tried to kill you a couple of weeks ago!? And what about everything they did to me today!?”
“You used to be an Elite too,” I snap coldly. “I doubt she had anything to do with either of those things. She doesn’t want to be wrapped up in their bullshit…just like you didn’t.”
He looks over at her car as it starts up, blowing heaps of smoke into the air as the sun begins to set in the distance. “It’s different,” he insists.
“How?” I grimace at him. “How is it different?”
“You don’t understand how they are,” he mumbles.
“Oh, I don’t!?” I fume, feeling my heart throbbing with anger. “Have I not been just as wrapped up in everything as you ever since I came to Jameson? You don’t think I’ve learned anything by now? Or are you saying Elites can never change? Cause if that’s the case…I shouldn’t be standing here talking to you either.”
His lips part to argue back, but he stops himself, seemingly tripping over his own defenses in his mind. “I don’t want to fight,” he says instead, still looking defeated as his lips tighten.
“Me either,” I agree, inching closer towards him. “I love you, Emmett.” I know that much is true, even if everything today brought back old feelings of how fucked-up our love might be. Even now.
“I love you, too, Ophelia.”
“But sometimes…I just really, really miss hanging out with other girls my age,” I explain, my voice dripping with so much desperation I’m practically whining. “We’re just going to hang out for a little bit. Outside of Jameson so no one will know. If she turns crazy on me, I’ll call you right away.”
I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him, but he’s stiff and it takes him a minute to fully kiss me back. I can see his mind racing with more arguments or comebacks, but I meant what I said about not wanting to argue. And this has already been blown into a bigger deal than it should be, bringing back my feelings of being some 18th-century maiden…royalty that’s not allowed to socialize with certain people.
“I’ll call you later,” I tell Emmett before quickly bouncing backward and running towards Bridgett’s car.
“Everything cool?” she asks as I jump in.
“He’ll be fine,” I tell her, hoping I’m right. “He’s just a little untrusting…which I’m sure you can understand.”
“Maybe not as well as you’d think,” she frowns. “But we’ve got twenty minutes until we get into the next town. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
I spend the rest of the ride filling her in on everything that happened that day. Once I start talking, I can’t stop. Soon everything is spilling out, including our complicated past and how all of those old, awful feelings between Emmett and I were dredged up today. Bridgett is a great listener and extremely nice, but it’s almost like talking to a therapist. It almost doesn’t even matter what she says. I just needed to talk to someone new about it all without having to lie.
12
Chapter Twelve
“Mmmm,” I close my eyes and grunt as I take in big, hurried bites of my mom’s enchiladas.
“You’re supposed to chew your food. Not inhale it,” Brendan chuckles.
