Emmy & Oliver - Robin Benway Page 0,36
an older brother named Kane,” Oliver says, climbing up to sit next to her on the stairs. “Did you know that? I want a big brother. Or a little sister.”
“You can have mine,” another voice says, and Emmy sees Caro coming over to them. She’s new in their kindergarten class, but Emmy likes her because she shares toys and doesn’t tattle if you use too much paste. “I have five brothers and sisters.” She looks as hot and annoyed as Emmy feels.
Drew comes running up to them. He’s wearing two party hats on either side of his head, which make him look like a creature out of a storybook, and there’s a smear of frosting on his cheek. “Why are you guys sitting out here?” he says. “Kane’s gonna let us play with his remote-controlled car!”
“It’s too hot,” Emmy says.
“I want to play!” Caro says. “I want to go first!”
“First after me and Kane!” Drew corrects her and the two of them go off, leaving Emmy and Oliver behind.
“Don’t you want to play with the car?” Emmy asks him. They’re sitting next to each other.
“Not really,” Oliver says. “I like the zagebo.”
“Me too,” Emmy replies. “It’s our supersecret hideout!”
“Yeah!” Oliver agrees. “Just for us!”
“Yeah,” Emmy says with a smile. “Just for us.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next morning, Drew caught me in the hallway.
“Hi!” he said, landing in front of me as if he had been perched on top of the lockers like a puma.
“Your hair is wet,” I said, and he shook it in front of me. “Did you go surfing without me this morning?”
“Maybe. Okay, yes. The swell was good and I thought I’d let you sleep in. You’re welcome.” He gave one last shake in my direction and then swept his bangs off his face.
“Jerk,” I said, because I knew Drew would recognize it for the term of endearment that it was. “Next time take me with you. Hey! Wait!” I came to a halt in the middle of the hallway and turned around to glare at him. “I forgot. I’m not talking to you. You”—I poked him in the chest—“didn’t tell me about Kevin.”
“Ow. And you”—Drew poked back but not as hard—“probably forgot to tell me about something at some point in our friendship, so we’re even.” He smiled brighter. “Anyway.”
“Why are you so . . .” I waved my hand around his face. “Shiny?”
“Guess who’s parents are going out of town?” he said.
“Kevin’s.”
“Nope.”
“Caro’s.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Mine? Oh please, say mine are going on a romantic spa vacation in Big Sur or something.”
The happiness fell away from Drew’s face. “Look, Em, I love your parents, but I never want to imagine them in a spa together ever. Ever. Now stop distracting me and just guess already!”
I paused and looked at him. “Your parents are going away?”
Drew nodded, his smile spreading so that it seemed to crack his face in two. (In a good way, I should add. That sounded creepier than I meant it to.)
“Your parents never go away!” I cried, clutching at his arm. “This is so great! Your house is so big!”
“I know!” He clutched me back and we jumped up and down together. “So you have to come over. A bunch of people are already coming over, but I want you to be there first.”
“A party?” I asked. “An honest-to-God party at your house. This is, like, unbelievable.”
“I know, right?” Drew paused and then stood up straight, a perfect imitation of his mom. “Something tasteful, though, not tacky. And no themes, of course.”
“Simple, but elegant,” I chimed in. “A chilled white-wine spritzer, perhaps, served only in the finest red plastic cups.”
“We’ll put the Flamin’ Hot Cheetos in the good crystal, though,” Drew added, giggling. He paused and then said, “Kane’s coming home this weekend and he said he’d get us booze. And Kevin might be there.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
I laughed even as I shoved him away. “Stop doing that, you know I hate that!”
Drew just shook his head. “Whatever. I really want you to meet him, Em. He’s nice.”
“Caro said he’s hot.”
“Caro is not a liar.”
“How come Caro’s met him and I haven’t?”
“Because you”—Drew wrapped his arm around my neck and began to walk down the hall with me in tow—“have been busy with Neighbor Boy.”
“Neighbor Boy, as a nickname, is a lot better than Milk Carton Boy. And we need to talk about him.”
Drew just looked down at me. It’s a real disadvantage when your friends are a) taller than you, and b) right. “You