LOGINEmerySaturday mornings used to be my favorite.No alarm clock. No teachers. No worrying about whether my jeans made my thighs look too big or whether somebody would ask to copy my homework before first period.Just pancakes, pajamas, and the possibility of spending an entire day doing absolutely nothing.Unfortunately, heartbreak had apparently decided weekends were included in its schedule.I lay in bed staring at my phone.No messages.Which was what I’d asked for.So why did it hurt?I opened my conversation with Rhett and scrolled through weeks of messages. There were jokes about pineapple pizza, arguments over waffles, and conversations I’d never imagined having with a boy.Then I reached the first picture.Me in the green dress.My face hidden behind my phone.I’d sent it to a stranger because I’d typed the wrong number.Or had I?The thought made my stomach twist.What if it hadn’t been an accident?What if Rhett had known from the beginning?What if Knox had been sitting besi
RhettBy Friday morning, I’d discovered that doing the right thing didn’t necessarily make you feel better.Sometimes it made you feel like crap.I’d apologized to Emery. I’d told her the truth about the tutoring. I’d admitted I was the guy she’d been texting.And she’d stopped talking to me.Not that I blamed her.I just hadn’t realized how much of my day involved looking forward to hearing from her until there was nothing to look forward to.“Callahan!”Coach’s whistle nearly ruptured my eardrum.I looked up from the practice field.“Yeah?”“Unless you’re planning to marry that football, I suggest you throw it!”Parker stood twenty yards downfield with his arms spread.“I’m open, Romeo!”I threw the ball.It sailed three feet over his head.Coach closed his eyes.“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Maybe next time we can aim for somebody wearing our uniform.”A few guys laughed.I deserved that one.After practice, Knox caught up with me outside the locker room.“Party at my place ton
EmeryBy Thursday morning, I’d discovered something interesting about heartbreak.It didn’t care that you had a chemistry quiz, that your hair refused to cooperate, or that you’d forgotten to charge your phone.And it definitely didn’t care that you were supposed to be learning chemical equations when all you wanted to do was crawl under your blankets and pretend boys hadn’t been invented.“Are you listening to me?”I blinked at Piper.We were sitting in my car outside Northbridge High.“Absolutely.”“What did I say?”“Something wise and inspirational?”“I said there’s a French fry stuck to your sweater.”I looked down.There was, in fact, a French fry stuck to my sweater.“Breakfast,” I explained.“Emery, it’s eight in the morning.”“Don’t judge my lifestyle.”Piper laughed, but her expression softened.“You doing okay?”I considered lying.Then remembered how spectacularly that had worked out for Rhett.“Not really.”“Want to talk about it?”I stared toward the school entrance.“I t
RhettI used to think the worst feeling in the world was throwing an interception with twenty seconds left on the clock.Turns out, watching someone you care about ask you to stop calling her sweetheart was considerably worse.I’d been staring at Emery’s last message for almost an hour.Please don’t call me sweetheart anymore.Five minutes after she sent it, I’d typed an apology.Then another.Then something about how much she meant to me.I deleted every single one.Because Emery hadn’t asked me to explain myself again. She’d asked me to stop doing something, and for once in my life, I was going to listen.I put my phone facedown on my nightstand.It stayed there for approximately twelve seconds before I picked it up again.God, I was pathetic.Wednesday morning, Knox climbed into my truck carrying two breakfast burritos and a sports drink.“Morning, sunshine.”I stared through the windshield.“Morning.”He handed me a burrito.I didn’t take it.“Okay,” he said, dropping it into the
Emery“There’s something you need to know about the guy who hurt you today.”I sat up so quickly that my pillow fell off the bed.“What?”My mystery boy didn’t answer immediately.I stared at my phone, suddenly aware of how hard my heart was beating.“What do you mean?” I asked. “How would you know anything about him?”He exhaled.“Because I know him.”For a moment, I couldn’t speak.That wasn’t possible.Was it?“You know Rhett?”Silence.My stomach dropped.“Wait. Do you go to Northbridge?”Another pause.Then he said my name.“Emery.”Not sweetheart.Not Dressing Room Girl.Emery.I went cold.Nobody on the other end of that phone was supposed to know my name.I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the screen.Wrong Number.The same number I’d been texting for weeks.The same boy who’d made me laugh when I wanted to cry.Slowly, I brought the phone back to my ear.“How do you know my name?”“Because it’s me.”I frowned.“Who’s me?”He swallowed audibly.“Rhett.”The room
RhettI’d always thought being a coward meant running away from something dangerous.Apparently, it could also mean sitting in your truck outside school, staring at a girl’s text message because you were too scared to answer it.DRESSING ROOM GIRL: then stop giving me half answersI’d read those seven words about fifty times.She was right.That was the worst part.Emery had given me every opportunity to tell her the truth, and I’d managed to turn each one into another reason she shouldn’t trust me.I could still hear her voice from last night.Then don’t make me guess.I’d spent weeks falling for a girl who was finally learning to stand up for herself, and now I was making her question whether she could trust the one person she’d felt comfortable opening up to.Me.The idiot responsible for both sides of the problem.I dropped my forehead against the steering wheel.“Nice going, Callahan.”A knock on my window nearly gave me a heart attack.Parker stood outside, holding a breakfast s