So I went to the only other person I trusted for girly advice: Emily.
I sent her a quick text that I was coming over, and left for her house. I was too excited to wait around for a response. It wasn’t unusual for either Emily or me to stop by the other’s house unannounced.
I was only a few steps away from the front door when it opened. For a split second I assumed Emily had seen me approaching the house. But someone else stepped out of it.
Troy.
“Hey, Macallan!” he greeted me. “How’s it going?”
The door swung open and Emily jumped outside. “Hey, what a surprise!”
“I sent you a text,” I stammered, trying to make sense of what I was witnessing.
Emily waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, no worries. Troy was getting the, ah, homework assignment we had in history.”
Troy looked at her weird. “Yeah, sure. Catch you later.” He walked down the street like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Emily assured me once we got to her room.
“Then what was it?” I asked. I refused to sit down next to her on her bed. I folded my arms and waited for her explanation.
“Troy and I were just hanging out. Honestly. I’m trying to get to know him better. Last time I checked, that wasn’t a crime.”
“What about Levi?”
“Levi knows.” She picked up a magazine on her nightstand and started flipping through it like we were done with this conversation.
We were not.
“Levi knows what?” I prodded.
“He knows that Troy was coming over today to study. They’re friends.”
“Yeah, some friend.”
“It’s complicated.”
I was so sick of that excuse. Because that’s all it was: an excuse. “Then explain to me. Because honestly, Emily, I have no idea what’s going on with you lately.”
Emily dropped the magazine as if I was being the unreasonable one. “I’m just confused, that’s all. And I’d appreciate it if you weren’t so hard on me. We can’t all be perfect like you.”
I glared at Emily. I didn’t appreciate that she was trying to turn this around on me. This had nothing to do with me. Although it felt as though it did.
She could tell that I was still waiting for a response. “Listen, I like Levi, I do. He’s so sweet and cute. But I also like Troy. So I’m spending time with Troy just to see if, you know …”
“No, I don’t know.” I could practically hear the icicles cover each syllable as they came out of my mouth.
Emily sulked. “I like them both. I want to make an informed decision before I choose.”
“Are you being serious right now? What you’re doing to Levi is completely unfair.”
“I know.” Emily looked sad. “I do. I promised myself that I had to make a decision by graduation.”
“That’s over a month away,” I reminded her.
“Please, you’re not going to tell Levi what’s going on, are you?”
I got up and headed for the door. “Really, Emily? I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Where to start?
I got it. When somebody tells you you’re seeing things that would get them in trouble, you’re most likely not imagining it.
How about when someone tells you she’s hanging out with someone she used to have a crush on just to study, don’t believe her.
So true.
Or if your best friend says she’s going to a track meet solely to keep you company, you don’t assume she’s there to hit on another guy.
That was not why I went.
Who’s lying now?
I’m not lying. I can’t help it that my pale skin and sparkling charisma make me irresistible to men. What was I supposed to do, be rude?
Whatever.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I thought having a girl best friend and a girlfriend would’ve given me some understanding of how the female mind worked.
Yeah, not so much.
Things became really bizarre between me and Emily. She began being extra enthusiastic around me. And any time I mentioned Macallan’s name, she would laugh and then change the subject.
Macallan wasn’t much better. It used to be that whenever I mentioned Emily’s name, she’d smile. Now she winced.
A buddy of mine in Cali gave me his theory that they were both in love with me and fighting over me.
Yeah, right. Maybe if this was a dream.
I avoided talking about Macallan with Emily and vice versa. As long as Emily didn’t come up, things were normal between Macallan and me. So I was looking forward to going to the high school’s track and field meet with Macallan and Danielle.
We sat in the bleachers with Macallan in the middle. She held up her hand to shield the sun from her eyes. “Glad I brought sunblock,” she said before riffling through her bag and applying lotion to her face and arms. Macallan’s hair in the spring and summer was my favorite; in the sun it was almost bright red with an orange undertone. But if we went inside it looked like it did in the fall.
She continued to squint. “Here, take my sunglasses,” I said. I had a hat on so at least the sun wouldn’t bother me as much.
“Oh!” Danielle elbowed Macallan. “Look — Ian’s stretching.”
I couldn’t see Macallan’s reaction, but whatever it was made Danielle laugh.
Who’s Ian? I thought. I looked over and saw some guy stretching his hamstrings and doing a quick jog with his knees up. Did Macallan know him? I didn’t remember her ever talking about an Ian.