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“Hey!” Bridgett smiles as she comes running up, carefully looking around to make sure no one is watching us. “I was hoping I’d catch you. What did Coach want?”
“Hey! He just wanted to talk about colleges and stuff,” I explain.
She nods, seeming thrown by my short response. “Which ones have you been accepted to?”
My lips part to answer, but I quickly stop myself. I have come to see Bridgett as a friend. I’ve trusted her enough to tell her the whole story about Emmett and my time in Jameson. And being related to the Henderson’s, she understands more about it than the average person would. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s still one of them, even if only in appearances. They have a way of getting what they want from people, and they’re especially skilled at pretending to be your friend.
I think back to Lily and how clueless I was to what was really going on in her head the whole time we were friends. Then I think about the Elites calling in their contacts to make her top choice schools rescind their interest. I don’t know which end of the spectrum Bridgett falls on, if any. But it seems smart to keep some things to myself for now.
“A good number of them,” I answer finally. “I don’t want to talk about it. I feel like that’s all anyone ever asks me about anymore. What about you? How are you doing?”
“Good,” she answers sincerely, no longer seeming too bothered by my unwillingness to share more. “Practice was good today. I’m dreading dinner tonight though. We’re supposed to go over to Uncle Liam’s.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry,” I wince at the thought of having to sit down at a dinner table with Liam, Malcolm, Marissa, and Bernadette. And it still seems so strange that Emmett will be eating at my house, while what’s left of his family will be dining with Bridgett. “It’s so crazy...,” I muse. “The way things turn out.”
“How so?” her brows raise.
“That you’re so nice,” I shrug, not knowing how else to explain it.
“Thanks…I guess,” she laughs.
“Well, you should blow them off and come to my house for dinner instead,” I suggest. “I guarantee my mom’s cooking will be better than any chef Liam has hired.”
“That is tempting,” she grins mischievously, thinking it over. “Do you think your parents would mind?”
“Nah, they’ll be relieved to see me hanging out with someone new,” I reply. “A girl at that. Emmett is coming too, though.”
A strange look washes over her face. “Do you think he’ll be okay with me tagging along?” she asks hesitantly. “He didn’t seem to like me too much when we were hanging out the other day.”
“He’s just wary of you is all. I’m sure you can understand why.” I drop my eyes and kick some rocks around awkwardly. I hate the way the words sound, but I don’t know how else to put it. She may be one of the good guys, but how can any of us be so sure after what we’ve been through?
“Okay...,” she says slowly. “If you really don’t think it’d be any trouble…”
“Not at all!” I assure her. “Come on. Let’s get out of the cold before someone sees you leaving with me.”
We start walking as I search for Emmett’s car in the parking lot. Once I spot it, I see the dimmed lights and steam billowing out from the back, telling me he’s already heated it up and is waiting on me. I can’t see his face through the windshield, but I can only imagine how he must look as he sees Bridgett walking up with me.
“Hey baby, Bridgett’s coming with us. Okay?” I warn him from the driver’s side window, but I don’t give him much of a chance to respond before we both jump in. “Whew, I’ll be glad when it starts warming up!” My lips shiver as I rub my hands together and rock in the heated passenger’s seat.
“Hello again, Bridgett,” he grumbles, eyeing her skeptically through the rearview mirror.
“Hey, Emmett!” she says cheerfully. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing,” he replies as he puts the car in reverse. His voice is dripping with disdain, but I shoot him a threatening look to play nice.
We don’t give him much of a chance to be mopey or weird on the drive back to my house. Bridgett and I chatter away. We’re both students and athletes, and don’t have much time to laze around watching the latest movies and shows. You’d think we’d have trouble finding anything to talk about. But we get by just fine discussing our favorite running gear or shoes we’ve recently purchased, or weird things we’ve learned in class the past few weeks.
“Alright, ladies,” he announces as we approach my house. “Your chauffeur has…”
“Shit!” I cut him off, eyeing the expensive car parallel parked in front of my house.
“What is it?” Bridgett asks from the backseat.
I look over to Emmett who recognizes the car too. “It’s her dad,” he tells her. “Looks like Theo has come around for another visit.”
“Shit,” I say again, thinking the timing couldn’t be worse. But really there’s no good time to come home and find him here.
“Should I go?” she suggests politely. “I could call Malcolm to come pick me up.”
