Emmy & Oliver - Robin Benway Page 0,64
hurries over to him.
“What are you doing?” she calls when she’s close enough.
“I saw a frog!” Oliver cries, pointing toward one of the trees. Emmy has never seen a real live frog before. She wonders if they’re slimy. They look slimy.
“C’mon!” Oliver says, scampering forward. “He can be our pet!”
Emmy looks back over her shoulder. Their moms feel so far away and it’s kind of scary. She almost wishes they would see her and Oliver and call them back, pull them back into the familiar orbit of snacks and parks and sand castles that always crumble. But then Oliver disappears behind a tree and Emmy turns back around. The sun ghosts across her hair, warming her for a minute, and she does what she’s always done before.
She follows Oliver into the dark.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sunday was “Family Day” for Oliver, and my parents needed my help cleaning out the garage, which meant no time to sneak away for surfing that day. And then, true to form, I had to do all the homework I had left until the last minute while my mom walked into my room every fifteen minutes explaining, “If you’d just do a little bit every day, Emmy, then it wouldn’t build up so much. You can’t keep leaving things until the last minute.”
After the fourth time this happened, I finally set down my pen. “Mom. Every time you come in here, you interrupt me and keep me from doing the homework that you want me to do! Is that really a good idea?”
“Well, I’m just saying,” she said. “What are you going to do when you go to college in a couple of years?”
I knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but her comment bit me in exactly the wrong way. “You know, some high school seniors like to go to college right after graduating. They even move away and live in dorms! Can you believe it?”
“We’ve talked about this, Emmy,” my mom said.
“You talked about it,” I muttered. I knew that the idea of me moving out had nothing to do with me and everything to do with my mom.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Nothing.” I smiled at her. “I love you. Best mom ever!”
She just raised an eyebrow at me, but finally left me alone. “Bed at ten thirty!” she yelled as she went downstairs.
I waited for Oliver’s light to come on in his bedroom, but it never did. I texted with Caro for a while, who mostly told me about how terrible Heather was and how she hoped that she would smother to death in a pile of laundry, then I went to bed. Oliver’s room stayed dark.
It was nearly impossible to see him at school the next day, since he was a junior and I was a senior and we didn’t share any classes together. “Hey,” Caro said, bumping into me in the hallway. “So can I move in with you? Because I might murder my sister.”
“Remember? If you’re patient, she’ll just suffocate in a pile of laundry,” I said.
“I don’t have that kind of time,” Caro said, “because I am losing my mind. Seriously. I need my own room.”
“You really want to sleep in my mom’s office?” I said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Think carefully before answering. My mom will have your entire life planned out on an Excel spreadsheet if you do that.”
Caro’s eyes glazed over with happiness. “That sounds like heaven,” she sighed happily. “Tell me more about spreadsheets and organization and cleanliness!”
I was about to answer her when I saw Oliver walking down the hall. It looked like he was heading in a straight line toward me, his eyes never looking away from my face, and I grinned despite my effort to stay cool, to look cool.
“Oh God, you are a mess,” Caro whispered.
“Shut up, I know.”
“Hey,” Oliver said when he was close enough. “Hi, Caro.”
“Hey, dude. How’s surfing?”
“Great.” He nodded. “Good times, good people. Uhh . . .”
Clearly, he wanted to talk. “Caro,” I said, “can you, um, give us a minute?”
“I’ll give you three,” she said magnanimously. “Because that’s when the bell’s going to ring, anyway.” She tapped Oliver on the arm as she walked away. “Later, my friends.”
Oliver watched her go, then put his hand on my upper arm. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said, still grinning like a fool. A happy, happy fool. “Are you ready for a fun day of learning?”
“No. But I hear you’re coming over for dinner tonight.”
“We are,” I said. “My parents and I plan