Page 126 of The Third Baseman

“EMERSON!”

My bedroom door flew open; it wasn’t a lucky guess she’d been walking past, I’d heard the floorboard creek outside my room. She was either listening or passing by weirdly close to the wall.

“You bellowed?”

I gestured to the bed. “Sit.”

She was too nosy not to be a little inquisitive about what I wanted from her. I linked my arms behind my head as I tried to figure out what to do, and how I could do it.

If I asked Marnie straight out, she’d want to know where the information came from. She’d blow up at her dad, who in turn would hate me even more than he already did.

Alternatively, she’d blow up at me, and I didn’t want that either.

If I could figure a way to find out whether it was the lie I hoped it was without Marnie knowing, then I wouldn’t cause any unnecessary distress. Then we could all go about our lives as planned.

Dodgers and M.I.T.

“Jupe, can you stop pacing and tell me what you called me in for? I’m meeting Mallory at the mall and I don’t have all day!”

I stopped, my eyes narrowed at my sister. “I need you to do me a favor, can you take Marnie? I need to do something, and don’t want her around.”

She looked at her nails. “I think you’re all out of favors.”

“I’ve taken you to school or the beach every single day.”

She simply raised a single eyebrow at me.

“Fine, what do you want?” I snapped.

I’m not sure why she bothered with the prolonged pause, drumming her fingers against her lips; it was clear from her answer that it wasn’t an off-the-cuff negotiation.

“Your truck.”

“Fuck off.”

She stood up from the bed, and walked slowly toward the door.

“Fine, you can have it for one afternoon.”

“A whole weekend,” she shot back.

“An afternoon and an evening.”

Her smile was more simpering than any of the girls at school. I glowered back.

“I’ll call her now and tell her Mal and I will collect her on the way. I’m assuming you need me to tell you when the coast is clear?”

I nodded, ignoring the guilt and anxiety twisting into a cyclone in my gut. “Yep.”

“It’ll be in the next hour.”

“Thanks. And Emerson,” I called after her. She put her head back around the doorframe. “Make up something about why you wanted me earlier.”

True to her word, Emerson’s message came through an hour later, and I made my way over to Marnie’s, the way I usually did. I knew her brother was out, and her parents had left first thing to collect some shit or other fromSanta Barbara, which was going to take all day.

The house was clear.

I stepped softly through her window.

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