Emmy & Oliver - Robin Benway Page 0,52

safety’s sake,” I said, and felt him smile against my hair as he wrapped his arm around me. The streets were empty and we watched as the buildings and houses flew past us.

I had Jessica pull up a few blocks away from our houses so she could let Oliver out. I was pretty sure my parents were asleep, but I didn’t want to risk being seen. “Sorry,” I said again to him. “Curbside service next time.”

“Byyyyyye, Oliver,” Caro said from the backseat. “Did you have a nice time? I hope you had a nice time.”

“Caro,” he said, “this was the best party I’ve ever been to in my life.”

It was the only party he’d ever been to in his life. And I was the only one who knew it. I looked away to hide my smile.

“Text me later?” he asked me.

“Okay,” I said. “Sleep well.”

“Yeah. You too.”

He didn’t shut the door, though. “Bye,” he said.

“See you later.”

“Okay.” He slammed the door and I rolled down the window so I could lean out. I could hear Jessica’s annoyed sigh, but I ignored her.

“Get home safely,” I told him.

“Yeah, sure.” He smiled back. “Hey, um, this might not be the best time to say this . . .”

My heart plummeted. “Okay?”

He tapped his fist against the car door a few times, then looked at me. “I’m glad you never moved.”

It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“Well, I’m glad you finally came back,” I said, and when we finally drove away, he never moved from under the streetlight, his image growing smaller and smaller until I couldn’t see him anymore.

But I knew he was still there.

Back at Caro’s, her brother David was playing Mortal Kombat and didn’t even acknowledge us as Caro and I came in through the front door and started up the stairs.

“Shh, my parents are sleeping,” she whispered, but we all knew that Caro’s parents slept like the dead. (To be fair, they had six kids. They were probably exhausted.) My parents, on the other hand, slept like nervous birds. I once got up to use the bathroom and came out to find both of them in the hallway, my mom behind my dad, each of them clutching one of my mom’s high heels.

“What are you doing?” I cried.

“We thought you were an intruder!” my mom yelled as my dad flipped on the light.

“An intruder who breaks into the house and then stops to use the bathroom?”

That was just one example of why sneaking into or out of my house was not an option. I don’t want to get impaled with an Easy Spirit pump. I don’t know how I plan on dying, but it’s not going to be like that.

Caro and I took turns in the bathroom and she loaned me some clean pajamas. “You’re like a paper doll,” she giggled as I came into the bedroom. Heather’s side was still empty. Either that, or she was just asleep under the clothing explosion and it was impossible to see her through the debris.

“I’m like a what?” I said.

“You keep borrowing my clothes.”

“Well, yours are all nice and clean. Scoot over.”

Caro turned off the light as I climbed into her bed. Sleeping over at Caro’s always meant a foot kicking me in the arm or a hand draped over my face. Back when Caro had her cat, Mr. Pickles, he used to sleep on top of my head, only he’d eventually slide down so that I’d wake up and find myself being smothered by a ten-year-old cat who had no interest in moving.

I don’t really miss Mr. Pickles. Don’t tell Caro.

She was asleep within minutes, but I lay awake, listening to the crickets. It’s funny how, even though Caro doesn’t live on my street, it still sounds the same outside, bugs and distant cars and a silence so loud that it can wake you up, or worse, keep you from falling asleep.

Caro rolled over next to me and slung her arm over my shoulders. Mr. Pickles 2.0. “Caro?” I whispered.

Nothing.

“Caro, get off.” I gave her a shove and she just snuggled down against my arm. I sighed. The things I do for our friendship. “Caro?” I whispered again. “Are you awake?”

She wasn’t, of course, which made it easier to confide in her. “He kissed me,” I murmured. “Outside at the party.”

Caro just snuffled.

“Well, congrats for you,” came a sleepy voice in the direction of Heather’s bed. “Now will you shut up, please?”

“Sweet dreams, Heather,” I said,