Page 37 of The Enemy Face Off

Has opinions she is not afraid to share about pretty much anything I say.

My phone buzzes in my hand.

Beth:Merry Christmas, x

I stare at thatxfor way longer than any grown man should stare at a single letter, my stomach suddenly feeling weightless.

What does thexmean?

Was she being festive? Did her finger slip? Or is that how she signs off on text?

I know the answer to that last question is no, because in all the months we've been texting, she's never once let anxslip through before.

Jonah shrieks excitedly at his pirate ship, so with a shaky thumb—why is my thumb suddenly shaking?—I click into the reply field, tapMerry Christmas, x, and hitSend.

I drop the phone as if it were a sizzling skillet then tuck it in between the sofa cushions so that I can't see it because that's a perfectly logical thing to do.

I can face off against a player charging at me on the ice, but sending someone a message that ends withone lettersends me into a tailspin?

I need help.

I also need to refocus.

So I wander over to Josie and Jonah and clap my hands together. "Who's ready for pancakes?"

9

Beth

"Oh, come on, start you stupid thing."

I turn the key in the ignition again.

Nothing.

No cough. No sputter. Not even a wheeze.

My car has officially conked out on me.

I first noticed it started making a funny noise driving down the mountain, so I did what any responsible car-owning adult would do in that situation—I ignored it, turned the music up louder, and prayed I made it back safely.

My prayer was answered, and I got home fine yesterday.

Sure, I could have stayed with my family since it would have been a shorter drive to the wedding venue, but that would have meant an extra thirty-six hours in their company, and I had to make a decision—spend time with them or remain sane.

I made the right choice for everyone involved.

As much as I love hanging out with Dad and Schapelle, I can't deal with Mom's constant nagging—When are you going to get a real job? Why aren't you seeing anyone? You know, it's not too late for you to go to college like all your sisters have—being forced to make polite chitchat with Tenley to gloss over the fact we have nothing in common, and fighting over the silliest things with Allie, which always happens whenever we spend more than a few hours together in close quarters.

Not to mention, they're all way too perky and optimistic for my liking. Like, all the time. Mom can switch from criticizing my life choices to chatting about a good news article she found on Reddit in an instant. Even Dad, with his ex-military background, has this whole life-is-good attitude going on. I'm the only Moore who inherited the snark gene.

I really shouldn't complain because I don't have some sad sob story about my childhood. So many people had it much tougher than me. Constantly relocating because of Dad's military career was the most difficult thing we went through, but it actually wasn't all that bad for me.

Being on the bigger side, I quickly came to see that wherever we went, the insults remained predictably the same. That helped in not letting the cruel things people said about my size get to me.

That, and retreating into books.

There's that famous quote about readers getting to live one thousand lives. That's so true.

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