smile, and I pointed at her mouthing, “You've got this!”
The game began with her at the middle. She got the tip off against the other player, and I cheered again.
Zara leaned over toward me. “Hey, I have an idea about your project.”
My attention immediately shifted away from the game. “Tell me. I'm all ears.”
She leaned closer and whispered, “Okay, so what you can do is look up his parents’ name on the county registry. It’s public information, and you should be able to find it online. That will have their address—if they own the property, which I'm assuming they do since they farm. It’s probably been in their family for generations.”
My eyebrows rose. “This is sounding dangerously close to stalking.”
“No!” she cried. “I want you to do some research, then go to his house and make sure that he does his part. If he's a true cowboy, he'll want to stand up for his honor or whatever.”
I pressed my lips together, considering her idea.
“It could work,” she said.
“Maybe.” I turned my eyes back to the court. Cori shoved a girl out of the way and scored a basket. Everyone in the stands went wild, including me. Still, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about Zara’s idea and wondering whether it was brilliant or terrible.
Maybe it was both.
Fifteen
I was midway into a cheesy teen romance movie, stuffing my face with full-fat, non-vegan chocolate ice cream when Cori walked through the door.
Her curly red hair was a mess she had thrown into a hurried ponytail, and she looked exhausted. Her eyes landed on the ice cream I had sitting out. “Please tell me you got me some.”
“I’m not a monster,” I replied. “I have two tubs for you in the freezer. Salted caramel and cookie dough. You can choose which flavor you like.”
Within a few minutes, she returned and lay over the couch with a massive bowl full of both flavors. “What should we do this weekend?”
I shrugged. “This already feels pretty crazy, right?” I sent her a teasing smile. “Mom and Dad would never let us eat this kind of stuff.”
“Oh yeah.” She loaded a spoonful into her mouth. “Totally.”
I laughed. “How was school today? You know, other than killing it at the game.”
She smiled and shrugged. “People are already asking each other to the Spring Fling dance, and I’m sick of it.”
“Ugh, it’s the worst,” I agreed.
“Especially when no guy wants to take you.”
I furrowed my eyebrows together. “Why wouldn’t anyone want to take you?”
She sent me a glare before taking another bite of ice cream.
“Seriously,” I said. Cori was pretty, fit, and had these long legs that looked great in shorts or dresses. She might have been tall and more full-figured, but standing next to each other, she was clearly the beauty of the family.
“Do you want to go with anyone?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Because we have such a great selection at Emerson,” I said sarcastically.
“There are a few cute guys in the junior class.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but I wondered if there was something more to that. From her expression, she wasn’t about to divulge any secrets.
“Maybe I should start dating younger guys if Mom and Dad are going to keep me here forever.”
“Look Ging”—Cori swallowed her ice cream—“what Mom and Dad don’t know won’t hurt them.”
Maybe she was right. Going to Ray’s and holding him accountable was only fair. I’d keep it to myself, but if they found out, they couldn’t fault me. I was only trying to do what they wanted me to.
I woke early in the morning to Cori’s snoring from the opposite end of the sectional.
Sixteen
Rising from my supreme sugar coma, I went to the den to do my breathing treatment while Cori caught some extra sleep without Mom ordering her around. I couldn’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t starting my day with a treatment, having to wake before the rest of my sisters.
But that was fine. At this point, the noise of the machine hardly registered, and I basically had an extra fifteen minutes or so to watch YouTube. This morning, though, I had a pad of paper on my lap, trying to think of ideas for the video. Anything I came up with had to be better than Ray’s ideas. If he actually had any.
Eventually, I wrote down several topics we could finish this weekend. A day in the life of a basketball player—we could watch my sister.