Page 30 of Embody

“My bad,” she clears her throat. “Done, promise. Go on.”

“So you know my friend Brynn, right?”

“Pitcher, the wall to your flower, got it.”

“Yeah, her. Well, she has an older brother, Jefferson, and there’s something there.”

“Dude, that’s disgusting. Find her a mannotrelated to her, stat.”

“What?Oh.Emma, no. Jesus! What’s gotten into you, weirdo? Not something there betweenthem,” I rub my forehead, questioning if my friend hit hers…like, really hard. “Between him and I.”

“Okay, yeah, that makes more sense,” she laughs.

“You know what, never mind. You’re too out of it to consult on a serious matter. I’ll think of something myself.”

“No, I’m listening. I’ll help you. It’s just, I went to this party tonight and I’m starting to suspect those cookies they were pimping had an extra dash of cannabis in them, but I’m good. Promise. Tell me about the brother.”

I fill her in on the instant attraction, every detail of his sexy allure and strikingly good looks, how he appeared out of nowhere at the bar and gave me a ride home, and finally,the kiss. Every sordid detail. And I can’t help but use more breathless adjectives than most probably do when talking about sex.

“So,what’sthe problem exactly? ‘Cause I’m not hearing one.”

“That brings us to the suspicions and assumptions part of my story. I got a package delivered, no card, with a bikini, sunglasses, and a skimpy dress. Brynn didn’t say she sent it, but she didn’t say otherwise either, and she was awfully interested in what was in it. The she said something about it earning the help of someone, like blackmail.”

I go on, replaying the fight at the breakfast table, the whole “can I keep a secret insistence” from JT, the “forbid” comment he let slip and wouldn’t explain and Brynn all of a sudden ignoring Ryder.

“So, Sherlock, what’s your theory?” Emma asks.

“I think Brynn forbid, the exact word he used, JT from me and he agreed! Just like that! Then tonight, he couldn’t resist anymore and once I agreed to keep it a secret, he attacked. And the worst part? I think he told her if he couldn’t date me, that she couldn’t date Ryder, and she agreed too! Ignored the poor guy all night. They never considered our feelings, bartering and trading behind our backs like we’re inconsequential pawns they just move around the board according to their mood!”

“Shitty, very shitty indeed. Why are you friends with these people again?” She asks the valid question with disgust in her voice.

“Because,” my tone drops in shame for having painted them in perhaps too harsh a light, “theyaregood people. Brynn thinks she’s protecting me because Jefferson is a known player, and he’s just trying not to hurt his baby sister over something that may turn out to be nothing. Their hearts are in the right place, they’re just not inallthe right places.”

“So talk to them.” She thinks she has it solved that quick—until I explain my hesitation there.

“Then what is your plan?”

In a hushed, doubting voice, I explain my cod liver oil revenge plan.

She cuts me off with a loud snort. “Easy, Cruella. That’s not you, and it’s totally not cool. Slap yourself on the hand.”

“Are you serious, or is that the cookies talking again?” I ask.

“Dead serious, do it. Hard, I wanna hear it.”

So, I slap the shit out of my hand, then pick the phone up again. “That hurt, bitch.”

“You’re the bitch, and a fucking hypocrite. Are you done with the crazy plan, ‘cause I have a better one. Still kinda revenge, but the playful kind.”

“I’m listening.”

 

 

THE NEXT DAYis Sunday; a beautiful, sunny one. And the day of the week Brynn and I have always agreed to take off from schoolwork, practice, whatever, to spend girl time together.

I call her around eleven.

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