Emmy & Oliver - Robin Benway Page 0,42

out. It’s not like the movies.”

“Can’t wait,” he said. I could tell he was still a little freaked out by the difference between the two bedroom halves and I patted the floor next to me. “It’s safe down here,” I said.

“I’m actually afraid to touch things anywhere,” he whispered, stepping around the shoes. “Do any of those even match?”

“Nope!” Caro called from the bathroom without even looking to see what he was talking about. “If Heather’s limbs weren’t attached to her body, she would just leave them lying around wherever. It’s a little frightening. And she has a driver’s license, so steer clear.”

“No pun intended,” I added, tracing a circle with my fingertip into the worn carpet. The room had been Caro’s older brothers’ before they moved out, and it showed. There were even some Batman stickers on Caro’s bed frame, which she had artfully hidden with pillows.

“I’m counting down the days until one of us moves out of here,” Caro called from the bathroom, then stuck her head out the door and pointed at me. “You plus me plus community college equals apartment.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. Like my mom would ever let me move out. You should hear her speech about how dorms are dangerous because of meningitis. It’s a party-killer.”

“Your mom loves me,” Caro said, ducking back into the bathroom. “Tell her I’ll have hand sanitizer in every room. No one’s getting meningitis, not on my watch.”

Oliver was still making his way through the room and I started to say something when I saw him pick up Caro’s old baby doll. Alice had been around since Caro’s first days on earth and it also showed: there was a skid mark on her nose from where one of Caro’s brothers had used her in a game of catch (and missed); a coffee stain on her cloth arm; and one button eye completely missing, thanks to their old Labrador, Noodle, who apparently had a thing for buttons. Caro never said this, but I knew she put Alice on the bed with her good eye facing Caro’s side of the room, sparing her the indignity of having to spend eternity staring at Heather’s disaster area.

“Alice,” Oliver said.

Caro immediately stuck her head out of the bathroom door, her eyes wide as she looked at me, then Oliver. “You remember Alice?” she asked.

Oliver nodded, carefully smoothing down Alice’s threadbare dress before setting her back down. “You brought her to show-and-tell,” he said, then huffed out a little laugh. “Sorry, I just made things super weird, didn’t I?”

“No, no,” both Caro and I started to say. And he hadn’t, but I still felt a tiny chill run across my arms, like a seven-year-old Oliver had hovered in the doorway for a second and I had only just missed seeing him.

“It’s not weird,” Caro continued. “It’s sweet. Alice appreciates it.”

It’s weird, Oliver mouthed to me as he sat down on the floor. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I whispered back, making room for him. “Don’t worry so much.”

“What happened to her other eye?” Oliver asked, but before I could answer, Caro came back in the room.

“Ems, what are you wearing?”

I looked down at my jeans and top. “This? We just got back from surfing and I already know everyone at this party, so I don’t have to dress to impress.”

Caro gestured to her closet. “Feel free to borrow something. Please.”

I sighed and got up. At least she wasn’t saying anything about my hair, which was still damp with salt water and up in a bun. “Fine. Where’s that sweater you got last week?”

Caro poked her head out of the bathroom again, this time with an eyelash curler clamped around her left eyelashes, and jabbed a finger in the direction of Heather’s bed. “Don’t even talk to me about it,” she muttered.

“What is that?” Oliver suddenly asked.

We turned to look at him as he gestured to Caro’s eye. “Are you, like, plucking out your eyelashes or something?”

I was the first one who started laughing. Caro, out of self-preservation, waited until she had released the curler. “What?” Oliver said, smiling a little like someone who suspected there was a hidden camera nearby. “Is this something I should know?”

“It’s an eyelash curler,” Caro told him. “It makes your eyelashes . . . swoopy.”

“It’s sort of redundant to define ‘eyelash curler,’” I pointed out. “It’s pretty evident what it is from the name.”

Oliver got up and walked over to take it from Caro. He was taller than both of us and