put things right. As much as I can, anyway.” He glanced at Emma, then blinked, as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Is everything okay? You look kind of pale.”
Emma looked down, thinking about what she’d just found in the attic. “I saw my mom again two nights ago,” she admitted.
Thayer’s long-lashed hazel eyes opened wide with concern. “Where?”
Suddenly the whole story was pouring out of her—the hospital visit, the discovery that her mother had a history of mental illness. The fact that she’d pulled a knife on someone. Emma left out the part about Becky calling her by her real name, but as she told him the rest, she felt the compression around her heart relax ever so slightly. She breathed deeply.
Thayer let out a low whistle. “Damn.”
“I know,” she said. Talking to Thayer was so easy—she already felt calmer, more focused. “The worst thing is that I can’t really tell anyone. Mom—I mean, my adopted mom—doesn’t know, and my dad won’t let me tell her. He says it’d destroy her. I can’t tell Laurel either, and I can’t tell any of the other girls because they’d tell Laurel. The whole thing is awkward and stupid.”
“Keeping secrets for your parents sucks,” Thayer agreed, his expression darkening. He leaned back against the tree, and frowned. Emma watched him from the corner of her eye. Thayer knew all about family secrets. He rarely talked about it, but part of the reason he’d run away from home was to escape his father’s violent temper.
When he spoke, his voice was low. “I never told you this, but I caught my dad having an affair last year.”
Emma’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?” She imagined hotheaded, strict Mr. Vega. His brow was always furrowed, his spine stiff and straight, and he seemed to disapprove of everything. Who would even want to have an affair with him?
Thayer nodded. “Yeah. I caught his girlfriend or whatever leaving our house when my mom was away visiting my aunt. I tried to talk to him about it, but he just blasted me for messing with his business. Acted like he could do no wrong.” Thayer gritted his teeth. “My mom didn’t factor into the equation at all.”
“That sucks,” Emma said softly. She reached over and squeezed his hand. When their skin touched, an electric hum started at the point of contact. Realizing what she’d done, she pulled her hand away, blushing. Thayer looked away, too.
They sat together in silence for a moment. Emma’s hand still tingled from touching his. She felt a little guilty confiding so much in Thayer, as if she were sneaking around behind Ethan’s back. But it wasn’t like that at all. She and Thayer were just friends, and friends were allowed to confide in each other when something was on their minds. Besides, the only reason Thayer was even interested in her was that he thought she was Sutton—his ex-girlfriend.
I hoped she was right about Thayer still being in love with me. Of all the things my death had taken away from me, Thayer had been the hardest to lose.
He stood up carefully, testing his weight on his bad knee. “I should go. I’ve got physical therapy in thirty minutes.”
“How’s that going?”
“Better,” he said. “If I keep working on it, I might even get to play soccer next year.”
Emma beamed. “That’s great!”
“Yeah.” When Thayer smiled, a dimple appeared in his left cheek. “Anyway, tell your dad … well, whatever.”
“I’ll tell him you said hi,” Emma said.
Thayer saluted her, then turned and headed unstably to his car. For a moment, Emma wanted to run to him and hug him good-bye … but something told her that wasn’t a great idea.
Maybe that something was me. I hovered next to her, and together we watched as he started his car and drove away.
13
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF A LITTLE RETAIL THERAPY
Emma was still standing on the porch when she heard something creak behind her. Her heart skipped a beat. What if it was Becky, escaped from the hospital? The journal pages covered with Emma swirled in her mind. But when she spun around, she came face-to-face with Laurel.
“You scared me,” Emma accused, her hand over her heart.
“Geez, you never used to scare so easy.” Laurel laughed, looping her arm in Emma’s elbow. “Dating a nice boy is making you soft. Now come on, we need to go.” She checked her lipstick in a Chanel compact, then pulled Emma toward the door.
“Where are we going?” Emma asked, grabbing