Play Hard (Make the Play #2) (10 page)

Cal’s house is similar to Uncle Alex’s with its wraparound porch and shuttered windows. The main difference is how it’s decorated. It’s much more eclectic at Cal’s. It must be his mom’s influence. I imagine an author is pretty creative. Also, Cal’s house is devoid of all the little bible verses and quotes that are framed all over the walls at my uncle’s. Here the walls are mostly covered in family pictures and obscure paintings.

One wall of the family room is covered in bookshelves. While Emmy retrieves a couple of bottled waters from the kitchen, I scan the shelves for Maise’s books. When I find them, my fingers skate over the spines.

“It must be exciting to have an author for a mom,” I say when Emmy returns, thinking about my mom’s boring office job. In fact, I don’t even know what exactly she does.

Emmy hands me one of the waters. “Yeah, it’s a blast.” It’s impossible to miss the edge of sarcasm, and I wonder what that’s about.

Before I can ask, a door pops open to my right. I recognize Maise the minute she steps into the room from the pictures I’ve seen at my local bookstore. Sometimes they have her face plastered in the window. Honestly, I feel a little star struck.

“Oh,” Maise glances up at me. “I didn’t know Emmy had a friend over.” Her gaze flickers down to my jacket, and her lips curl into a frown.

My insides knot.

“Yeah.” Emmy touches my shoulder. I flinch, but then force my shoulders to soften. She’s only trying to help. I’m going to have to stop being so jumpy every time someone touches me. So far the only person who can touch me without me leaping out my skin is Cal. “This is Taylor. She’s a friend from school.”

“A friend of yours or Cal’s?”

Emmy groans. It’s low, and I don’t think Maise hears it, but I do. There is some major tension going on between the two of them. Up until this moment, I wasn’t sure Emmy and I would ever connect, but now I realize there is a lot more to Emmy than what I see on the surface. It was obvious in her spunky attitude towards Cal at lunch, and now with her visible irritation with her mom. Clearly this family isn’t as perfect as I once suspected. “Both,” Emmy says, placing a hand on my back. “And we have stuff to do, so we’re going to my room.”

“Nice to meet you, Tanya,” Maise says as we leave the room.

“It’s…Taylor,” I correct her quietly.

“What?” She asks.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, wishing I hadn’t spoken at all.

“Her name is Taylor, Mom,” Emmy says in a frustrated tone.

“Oh, one of my character’s name was Taylor.” Maise knits her brows together. “Which book was that?”

“I don’t know, Mom.” Emmy rolls her eyes, and whispers to me, “And I don’t care.”

“Oh, yeah.” Maise snaps her fingers. “I remember. She was in
The Millionaire who Loved me
.”

“Hmmm. Wonder what that was about,” Emmy muses.

I fight back a giggle. I’m liking her more and more by the minute.

Emmy tucks her free hand under my elbow and steers me out of the room. Clutching the cold water bottle to my chest, I follow her. When we reach her room, my gaze travels to the room across the hall. The door is open, and it’s obvious the room belongs to a boy. Baseball posters are tacked all over the wall. It reminds me of home – of all my skateboarding posters.

“That’s Cal’s room,” Emmy says.

I nod, embarrassed that she caught me staring. Turning from it, I slip inside Emmy’s room. It looks about like I thought it would. Like it belongs to a teenage girl. A little similar to my frilly room at my aunt and uncle’s, but a little more mature.

Emmy sinks down onto the edge of the bed, and unscrews the cap of her water. I take a seat next to her opening my own water. We sip our waters in silence for a minute before Emmy stands up and makes a beeline for her backpack.

“Ready to get started?” she asks, and I nod eagerly. Not because I’m looking forward to math tutoring, but because the awkward silence is killing me.

Standing up myself, I head over to my backpack and pull out my math notebook and a pencil. “I really appreciate you offering to tutor me.”

She presses the math notebook to her chest and stops moving. Studying me intently she says, “Are you really here for tutoring? Or is this about Cal?”

Her words stun me, and I stare at her mutely for a minute. Honestly, I’m unsure how to answer. The truth is that Cal is the main reason I said yes to tutoring. But I do need help in math, and the more I’ve gotten to know Emmy, the more I like her. So I decide to be straight with her. “I think I’m here for many reasons.” I shrug. “It’s no secret I like Cal. I mean, I’m wearing his damn jacket, and I’ve never been the kind of girl who wears a guy’s baseball jacket. Hell, I’m not even the kind of girl who likes baseball.” A light chuckle escapes through my lips. Emmy smiles lightly, but she wears a guarded look. It’s familiar. I know all about being guarded, about protecting yourself. “But I’m flunking math, and I need to get my grade up. Besides, the other day when we talked at the baseball game I felt like maybe we could become friends.” After the words leave my mouth, I feel stupid. I’m not one to share my feelings, and yet here I am walking around like a faucet lately, spilling my feelings all over the place. What is Prairie Creek doing to me?

The guarded look dissipates a little and a true smile emerges on Emmy’s face. “Man, that’s a relief.” She moves toward her bed and plunks down. Then she opens up her math book and sets it over her legs. I join her. “I had fun the other night at the game too. It was nice. Usually I sit by myself.”

I hadn’t thought about it before, but I’ve never seen Emmy with another girl. She’s always with her boyfriend or Cal. Why doesn’t she have any girlfriends? “Your friends never sit with you?”

“My friends are playing,” she responds simply.

Curiosity doesn’t allow me to let it go. “Chris and Cal are your only friends?”

She bites her lip. “Well, not always. I used to have a lot of friends. But then Ashley ruined all that.”

“Ashley? The blond girl in our math class? Wears way too much perfume?”

This elicits a tiny laugh from Emmy. “She does, doesn’t she?”

“How did she take away your friends?”

“It wasn’t all her fault I lost my friends, I guess. That was my doing.” Emmy sighs, her gaze dropping to her bedspread. “I used to hang out with girls like me. Girls who liked school. Girls who tutored people in math.” She smiles briefly at me, and I smile back. “You know, the ones other people in the school picked on, calling us nerds. But then Ashley and I hit it off at a baseball game. We instantly became best friends. Once I started hanging out with her, I guess I thought I was too good for my old friends.” I know exactly what she’s saying. When Dusty and I got together, I dropped a lot of my former friends too. I thought I was too cool for them. But when things went south between Dusty and me, I wished I had my friends to turn too. However, it was too late. “Anyway, it was a stupid decision because Ashley was just using me to get to Cal.”

My stomach drops. “Cal?”

“Yeah, they were messing around behind my back.” As if just realizing who she was talking to, her head snaps up, an apology in her eyes. “But don’t worry. It meant nothing to Cal.”

That doesn’t actually make me feel better about it. I swallow back the bitter taste in my mouth.

“It did mean something to Ashley though,” she says. “And when I caught them, she confessed that she only befriended me as a way to get close to Cal.”

What a nasty thing to do. Now I know why I never liked Ashley. “That sucks.”

“Totally.” Emmy nods. “Ever since then I’ve kind of kept to myself. I haven’t really trusted anyone. That’s why when Cal told me I should try to be friends with you, I was reluctant. I didn’t want to get hurt again.”

My body goes hot. “Cal told you to become friends with me?”

As if registering her error, her eyes widen. “It wasn’t like that. He’s worried about me, you know. He hates that I have no friends. And he thought you and I could become friends.”

My head is spinning. The first person other than Cal to reach out to me did so because she was told to. I don’t even know how to take this. Everything in me wants to believe that Cal is nothing like Dusty. That he comes on strong because he likes me, not because he wants to control me. But now he’s trying to control who I’m friends with. This is eerily similar to how Dusty treated me, and I’m not sure I like it at all.

“On second thought, I’m not sure I need tutoring. I can get help online or something. Less complicated,” I mutter, standing up.

“No.” Emmy leaps up, her face desperate. “Please don’t leave. I never should’ve said that.”

“It’s okay. You told the truth.” I wave away her words, shoving my stuff back in my backpack.

“Oh, man. Cal’s gonna kill me,” she mumbles.

It’s the last straw. After picking up my backpack, I fling it over my shoulder. “Tell Cal I get to choose who my friends are. Not him.” With that, I stalk out of Emmy’s room. I almost reach the front door when I realize I’m still wearing Cal’s jacket
. Man, this whole thing is a mistake.
Peeling it off, I hang it on one of the gold hooks mounted on the wall. Then I march right out the front door. It’s not until I’m outside that it hits me, I don’t have a ride home. But that’s okay. I have two legs. I can walk.

And it will sure as hell be better than getting a ride from someone who feels obligated to be with me.

“Where ya racing off to?” Chris catches up to me in the parking lot after practice.

When I turn to him, the glint in his eyes reveals that he knows the reason.

“She’s probably already gone home,” Chris points out.

I shrug. It’s not that I think Taylor will still be at my house, although I guess a tiny part of me hopes she will be. Mostly I’m anxious to talk to Emmy and find out how it went. A friendship between the two of them will be perfect. I know Emmy’s a little skeptical because of what went down with Ashley, but this is completely different. For starters, my relationship with Taylor is out in the open. Second, Taylor is nothing like Ashley. But most importantly, my feelings for her are real. For Ashley, they weren’t.

“Man, you are already whipped, aren’t ya?” Chris shakes his head.

“No, I’m not.” I bristle. “I just like her.”

“I know. I get it.” And I know he does. Last year he would’ve been confused. But ever since falling for Emmy, he understands how a girl can sweep in and change everything. “You going to the party tomorrow night?”

“Wasn’t planning to, but I guess I can see if Taylor wants to go. Why? Are you and Emmy going?”

“I hadn’t asked Emmy. I thought maybe it could be a guy thing. We haven’t had much of those.”

I get where he’s coming from, but the idea makes my stomach knot. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Emmy would have a fit if you went without her, and I don’t have any intention of hooking up with another girl.”

“I don’t either. I just thought it might be fun, like old times.”

A funny feeling jabs me in the gut. “Everything okay with you and Emmy?”

His hesitation to respond tells me all I need to know. After throwing my bat bag in my car, I lean against it and cross my arms over my chest. “Spill.”

Chris blows out a breath. “I love Emmy. You know I do.”

“But?” I prompt him. If dude says he’s thinking of bolting again like he did when they first got together, I may have to punch him in his face. No way is he hurting my sister again. But I’ll give him a chance to explain first before I pop him. I’m considerate that way.

“She’s just become so needy. I’m all she has and so she wants to be with me all the time. At first I liked it, now I’m feeling a little smothered.”

I nod with understanding. Even though I want to be angry with him, I’m not. I get it. “Maybe if she and Taylor hit it off, she’ll have a girlfriend to hang with.”

“That would be sweet. And not just for my sake. I worry about her too, you know.”

“I know.” Chris doesn’t have to explain this to me. I have the same concern about Emmy.

“I want her to have a full life. I want her to have friends. You were right when you said she can’t just have me. And she’s so amazing, man. It’s like I want the whole world to see that.” He pauses. “I want her to see that.”

My heart dips at his words. Emmy has struggled with confidence and self-esteem issues her whole life. When she got together with Chris, I saw her confidence lift a little, but I worried that it wouldn’t last. If all her self-worth is tied up in him, it’s bound to crash at some point. It seems that now may be that point.

“Yeah, me too,” I agree. “But going to a party without her definitely isn’t going to help things.”

“I know. It was a stupid idea. I guess I was just thinking it would give you and me a chance to hang.”

An idea sparks. “Maybe the four of us can go together. If Taylor and Emmy connect they can chat and stuff, you know like girls do. And we can have some bro time.”

“Sounds good. I’ll call Emmy and ask her about it tonight.”

My forehead scrunches. It’s Friday night. How will I ask Taylor? “I guess I’ll have to show up at Taylor’s house to ask her.”

“Ah, right. No phone.”

“Then again, I’m sure her aunt and uncle have a landline,” I muse. “I’ll figure it out.” Reaching for my doorknob, I turn to Chris. “Talk to you later, man.”

I quickly drive home, and the closer I get to my house the more I find myself hoping Taylor is still there. Perhaps if she and my sister hit it off, they’ll want to hang out tonight. If so, it will be easy to ask her about tomorrow night. It’s not that I’m afraid to show up at her house unannounced again, but I’d rather not if I don’t have to. When I turn the car onto my street, I spot Emmy’s car sitting in the driveway. Mom’s is next to it, and my insides twist. I hope Mom doesn’t scare Taylor away. Sometimes she can be a little intimidating. Hurriedly, I park along the curb. Then I snatch my bat bag off the seat, secure it over my shoulder and take large strides up to the front door. It’s unlocked, so I walk inside.

Glancing to my right, I spot my jacket hanging from the wall.
So she is still here.
Dropping my bat bag on the floor, my heart does this little fluttery thing that only Taylor can make it do. I start making my way down the hallway, when Emmy steps out of her room. Her expression gives me pause.

“What’s going on?” I ask, peering over her shoulder to see where Taylor is.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes downcast.

“For what? Where’s Taylor?” My heart pounds in my chest.

“She’s not here,” Emmy answers.

Panic sweeps over me. Did Dusty get to her? Is she hurt?  Is she in trouble? Stepping forward, I grab Emmy by the shoulders. “Where is she, Emmy?”

Emmy’s eyes widen larger than baseballs. She shoves me away. “Relax, Cal. She’s probably at home.”

Relief floods me. “You took her home?” Why is Emmy acting so weird if she merely took Taylor home? And why is my jacket still here? “What’s going on?”

Emmy takes a deep breath and her chest rises and falls gently. My insides clench. Clearly she’s gathering courage. Whatever she has to say, it isn’t good. I hold my breath, waiting. “I messed up.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she walks past me.

I follow closely at her heels. “What did you do?”

She enters the family room and sinks down onto the couch. Her shoulders sag, and I feel a little bad for interrogating her, but I have to know what happened. The idea of Taylor being hurt strikes fear in my heart like nothing else. It’s weird. Usually Emmy is the only person who can elicit this feeling from me.

“I kind of mentioned that you were the one who told me to try to befriend her.”

I groan. “Why would you say that?” Taylor appears tough, but deep down I know she’s sensitive.

“I don’t know.” Emmy throws up her arms. “You know me, I just kind of talk. I can’t stop myself.”

“Did she get upset?”

Emmy’s eyes link with mine, and I know my answer.

“Shit, Emmy.” I drop my head into my hands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess this up.”

I lift my head. “How upset?”

“Pretty upset.” She cringes. “She told me to tell you that she chooses her friends. Not you.”

I exhale a ragged breath. “She left my jacket. Did you see that?”

Emmy nods, shame written on her face.

I hate that I’m making her look like that. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix this.” I stand.

Emmy’s expression turns a little more hopeful. “You think you can?”

“I don’t know, but I have to try.”

“Man, you really like Taylor, huh?”

I nod.

“For what it’s worth, I think she really likes you too,” she says.

“Thanks.” I grab Emmy’s words and hold them close, needing them to be true. Hopefully she likes me enough to give me a chance to make this right.

****

Not only is Taylor surprised to see me, but her uncle doesn’t seem too pleased that I showed up either. It makes me wonder what she told him about us. The angry expression painting her face cuts to my heart. I worry she might tell me to get lost, but luckily she agrees to talk. In my hand I hold my jacket, and she glances down at it briefly before walking over to the porch swing. I follow, and we sit side by side.

“Emmy told me what happened,” I start.

She nods, but offers nothing. The tough guarded girl I first met is back. It pains me.

“It’s true that I asked Emmy to try to be friends with you, but it was only because I hated seeing you alone all of the time. I thought you could use a friend.”

“Emmy thinks you did it because she needed a friend.” She narrows her eyes. “So which one of us were you trying to help?”

Her question stuns me. Is she angry because she thinks I was trying to help my sister and not her? “Both,” I answer honestly. “My sister has had shitty luck with friends, and she’s lonely right now. I could tell from our first meeting that you were different from other girls.” I shrug. “I guess I thought it could be mutually beneficial to both of you.”

“Or maybe it was just beneficial to you.” Her tone is icy, cold.

I can’t figure out where all this is coming from. “What are you talking about?”

She stands abruptly, and the chains on the swing rattle. “I’ve been controlled by a guy before, Cal, and I won’t do it again.”

Understanding dawns on me. Slowly, I slide off the porch swing and move toward Taylor. “That’s not what I’m doing, I swear. I really was trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you to tell me who to hang out with and what to do.”

I nod. “You’re right. I’ll back off.”

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“What’s the catch?”

I swallow hard. Reaching out, I gently touch her face. “Taylor, tell me what he did to you.”

She melts into my touch, her eyelids fluttering. It makes my heart soar. Her gaze crashes into mine, and she inhales sharply.

“Please tell me,” I say. “I want to understand. I want to help you.”

“He took me away from my friends and family. He dictated everything I did or didn’t do. He controlled my every move.” She snorts bitterly. “I didn’t even realize it was happening until it was too late. He made me feel like I needed him, like what he was doing was in my best interest.” She pauses. “The same way you’re doing now.”

I curse myself for overstepping my bounds. “You’re right. I never should’ve pressed Emmy to hang out with you. I thought I was doing a good thing, but I can see now how easily it could be misinterpreted. I can see how it might look like I was trying to control you. Let me assure you that was never my intention. That’s why it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?”

I shake my head. “The first thing that attracted me to you was your strength, your feistiness. Honestly, I liked that you didn’t immediately fall all over me like other girls do.”

“Someone’s full of themselves.” Taylor’s lips curl upward in an amused way. It shows that she’s thawing towards me, and it gives me hope that I’m getting through.

“Hey, it’s the truth.” Throwing up my arms, I grin. “But I liked that you were more of a challenge. I don’t want a puppet, Taylor. I don’t want to squash your boldness or independence. And I don’t want to have to wonder if you’re with me because I’ve isolated you and given you no other choice. Only a coward does that.” I puff out my chest. “And I’m no coward.”

She stares at my face as if trying to read the honesty in my eyes. I hope it’s evident, because every word I’m saying is true. “Dusty was a coward,” she finally says. “I thought he was so strong and confident when I met him. But he wasn’t.” She cocks her head to the side, still looking into my eyes. “He was never like this. Never like you. Even in the beginning.”

“Because no matter how hard a person tries, they can’t hide who they are.”

She nods. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“This is who I am, Taylor. I’m flawed, and I make mistakes.” I chuckle. “A lot. But it’s usually because I’m trying to protect someone I care about.”

“Your sister kinda said the same thing.”

“Well, that makes me a little less angry with her then.”

Taylor smiles. “I think I got so upset because I actually liked her. I guess I thought we might become friends for real.”

“She likes you too, and I think you can really become friends. But that’s between the two of you. I promised I won’t get involved, and I won’t.”

“Thanks,” she whispers. Smiling, she moves around me, and I’m perplexed. I thought for sure a kiss was coming. Or at the very least a hug. I didn’t expect her to walk away. When I turn towards her, she’s plucking my jacket off the porch swing. “For bringing back my jacket. I was getting cold.”

“Ah, so it’s your jacket now?”

Giggling, she bobs her head up and down.

“Here. Let me help you put it on. I can’t have my girl be cold.”

“I’m your girl, huh?”

“Aren’t you?”

Something flashes in her eyes. Something I can’t place, but it unnerves me. It’s like she’s shutting down on me. Like she’s rethinking this again. But then it disappears and her smile returns. “I like the sound of that.”

I practically exhale in relief. Then I step forward, my arms outstretched.