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I look between her and Madison, completely confused. Who the hell is Daddy Warbucks?
Madison puts her hand on my shoulder.
“Emmett’s paying and don’t even try to fight it, because if we don’t bring you home with a full new wardrobe he’ll drag you out to the stores himself and that won’t be as fun,” she says.
My mouth drops open a little. I knew Emmett, or at least Emmett’s family, had a fair amount of money, but to do this for me? It seems like too much. I try to protest again, but Taylor speaks before I can, her attention still mostly on pulling clothes from racks.
“Seriously, let him do this. He has the money, even more so now that his parents have taken any contingencies off his trust funds. I guess that makes sense though when you think your kids gonna die, no point in keeping them from their money—”
“Die?” I interrupt.
Taylor abruptly stops looking through the clothing rack and turns to face me, her eyes questioning. My eyes shift from her to Madison, who is now chewing on her fingernail.
“Shit,” Taylor says, “He didn’t tell you, did he? That asshat. You know what? Forget it. I didn’t say anything. Let's keep shopping.”
I grab Taylor’s arm before she can turn away again, feeling more comfortable around her.
“What did you mean, Taylor? Why would Emmett’s parents think he was going to die?”
My heart is pounding in my chest the way it does when I’m out for a long run and trying to push myself. My hand is cold and clammy and the edges of my vision are getting fuzzy as Taylor breaks down and tells me everything. Luckily there’s a stool nearby because after hearing the words cancer more than once, my knees go weak. I don’t even realize I’m crying until I see the dark spots appear on Madison's jeans I’m wearing.
“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” I ask no one in particular.
“Because he’s an idiot,” Taylor scoffs.
Madison rubs a hand on my arm.
“Not helping, Tay,” she says before directing her attention back to me.
“He was probably scared,” Madison says as she squats down to my level. “Aubrey, I don’t know how much you know about Emmett’s history, but he’s not exactly known for liking a girl for more than one thing, if you catch my drift.
“Or at least not for more than a day or two,” Taylor adds.
“Taylor, again, not helping,” Madison scolds her friend. “I think maybe liking someone the way he likes you is still so new to him. He’s gonna fuck it up a little, but he means well.”
I finish drying my eyes and stand up, shaking out my hands.
“Well, I believe we have shopping to do,” I say with a strangled smile I manage to muster.
Both of the girls squeal and we spend the next few hours in and out of every store in the mall. Madison and Taylor have an infectious spirit and by the end of the shopping spree they have me walking an invisible runway with them outside the dressing rooms. I haven’t laughed this much since I don’t know when. But between the laughing and bonding, the dread creeps in too. The fear and feelings of doom about my situation linger in the back of my mind, mixed with the new feelings of unease surrounding Emmett and the information I’ve learned about him.
When the girls drop me and Emmett’s car off at the barn, they hug me and promise to make plans for another girls day soon. I feel like I may have actually made some of my first real girlfriends. The smile on my face is starting to make my cheeks hurt as I pile the excessive amount of clothing bags in a corner of the barn before making my way up the stairs to the bathroom. When I come up onto the loft landing, I stop, surprised to see Emmett fast asleep in the bed. I didn’t think he was back yet.
I hesitantly walk toward the bed. He’s snoring gently and I notice he’s not wearing a hat or beanie. Suddenly, so much makes sense. The constant head coverings, his weight loss, the fact that he hasn’t been able to play football.
As softly as I can, I sit on the edge of the bed and reach out to run my hand over the stubbly hair on his head. Emmett jerks and his eyes fly open. Both of us are frozen, him below me and my hand still on the side of his uncovered head.
I smile at him, as reassuring as I can.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I say.
Emmett squints at me, then realization hits and he groans.
“Dammit. My friends have big mouths,” he says to no one in particular.
I run my hand down the side of his face, cupping his jaw where a bit of stubble is pricking through on his cheeks. Gently, I bring his eyes toward mine.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I guess I didn’t want to see this look from you. This look of pity you have now.”
