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Aria scooted over closer to Ali, slipping her arm around his, snaking her hand down and intertwining their fingers. She was completely on edge, which was both understandable and annoying. She didn’t really think Mali and I would try something, did she? Especially not with Ali in front of us, and at his house?
“Where is the bonfire again?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t been keeping up with a lot of the news lately. I was out of touch, and it was all Charlie’s fault. He occupied so much of my time and thoughts, I couldn’t keep everything straight anymore.
I had to do better.
“The parking lot next to the abandoned field on the edge of town,” Malia stated, looking at her phone for clarification. “Someone’s already put a few drums out there for the fire.”
A Teller party. While Teller kids were often at Fairview parties, few Fairview kids came to Teller parties. We were able to sneak our own booze, which was the main reason they tolerated us at their homes. But when it was just us, most of them stayed away.
I wondered if Charlie would come.
“Yeah, we’ll go. It’ll be good to party again.” I flashed a quick glance at Ali, giving him a look of both apology and hopefulness. He nodded once.
I looked down, seeing a new text on my phone. I had it on silent, not wanting to alert anyone to the amount of messages I had been getting lately.
Charlie had been putting my number to good use, sending me memes, links to videos, and literally any random thought he had.
But it wasn’t annoying. It was funny.
“What are you smiling at?” Ali asked. “You have a goofy look on your face and I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“Yeah, you look… weird,” Mali chimed in, leaning over and grabbing the pack of cookies from my hand. She ripped it open and popped two in her mouth before I realized what was happening.
I set my lips in a tight line and glared at all of them. “Nothing. Mind your own business.”
“Is it a guy? Please let it be a guy. You haven’t had a crush on someone since, what, Todd Monroe in the third grade?” Malia mumbled while chewing, a few crumbs escaping and spraying in front of her.
Ali laughed, but Aria looked confused. “Yeah, and you showed him how much you liked him by punching his shoulder so hard, he bruised.” He leaned against the back of the couch, a hand over his stomach as he cackled even harder.
My upper lip twitched. I reached up and began fiddling with one of my braids, now debating whether I wanted to take them out. As much as I hated that they became synonymous with my name lately, they were a bit of a safety shield. I hid behind them when I needed to.
Malia snorted and crumpled the empty package in her hands before tossing it on the table, spilling a few more crumbs. “Oh, remember when she thought playing frisbee with Todd would be a good idea? Like a week after she punched him?” Malia and Ali exchanged a look while I sat there, grumbling to myself.
There was no stopping them. Once the two of them started going after me, they didn’t stop. They thought it was hysterical to remind me of my stupider moments in life.
Like crushes.
And Todd Monroe.
Could it be the reason I had yet to tell them about Charlie? No doubt.
But also… I wanted him to be my secret. We agreed to keep everything hidden. And as far as I knew, he held his end of the bargain. There was no way I would be found breaking my promise.
“Why Todd accepted, no one knew. We all figured he was terrified of you by then. But the two of you went out, anyway. And you threw it so hard, it clocked him in the face and gave him a bloody nose!” Malia doubled over, falling sideways on the floor in front of me, gasping and wheezing.
“He sure stayed far away from you after that!” Ali added. “Have you learned anything from it? Maybe whoever you’re crushing on, don’t punch them. Or play frisbee with.”
“I’ll stick to soccer, thanks,” I blurted out without even realizing it.
“Who would you play soccer with?” Aria piped in, her voice quiet and sweet, the opposite of ours. She was so soft, I thought I imagined it at first. But from the shocked looks on Ali and Mali’s faces, they heard her too.
“No one. Figure of speech,” I retorted, desperately needing to reclaim this conversation and not let Aria guide it in the direction I suspected she was about to.
Too late.
“Are you any good?” she asked, peeking around Ali and facing me.
We lived in the same house and she never knew I played soccer. Even knowing Dad was a coach, she didn’t think I played?
