Page 140 of Breakaway Hearts

“You’re a good secret-keeper.” I shake my head, smiling to myself. “He’s lucky to have an awesome little sister like you.”

“I’m a really good niece too,” she points out.

“In the top six,” I agree.

“Do you only have six nieces?” she asks on a sigh.

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” I tell her. “How’s the ice cream?”

“Melting over your subterfuge.”

“Where did you learn that word?”

“I’m very precocious,” she says proudly, but then adds, “Dad used it when he was teaching Patrick how to play the video game. I’m pretty sure it means lying and trying to trick me into not asking.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“It’s pretty obvi⁠—”

“Owen.”

Madison’s voice catches me off-guard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”

She smiles at Emmy and my chest goes tight.

“This is my niece, Emmalyne. Em, this is…my friend Madison.”

She recovers so quickly you’d think she didn’t hear me completely diminish her to a friend, or that she couldn’t care less, but I am kicking myself and drowning in regret.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Emmalyne.” Madison smiles, but her eyes are glassy, and I hate myself.

“You can call me Emmy,” my niece assures her. “Do people call you Maddie? There were two Madisons in my class last year, and one told us to call her Sun, which is weird, right?”

“I think our nicknames can be whatever we think suits us,” Maddie tells her. “Your uncle thinks my nickname should be Mad.”

“Because he makes you angry or he thinks you’re crazy?”

“You’d have to ask him.” She gives Em another smile, but meets my eyes sadly. “I was just headed…to the coffee shop, but it was so nice meeting you,” she tells Emmy before turning to me. “And I’ll see you in class.”

She’s gone before I can argue and point out we don’t have any classes together, and that she’s coming from the direction of my house.

Mostly, I want to apologize for being a dickhead.

“Fuck.” I sigh, then hear the sharp intake of breath behind me.

“You said a bad word,” Em points out.

“I did a bad thing,” I agree.

“Because she’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?”

“I hope so.”

“I can stay here while you run after her,” she offers, innocently licking her ice cream cone, way more mature than when we used to do this on the regular in California.

“Your mom would kill me,” I argue. Though, knowing my sister, she will also kill me if I don’t go after Madison.