Fury (15 page)

He grabbed the red paint and with his pinkie traced a tiny heart on her sternum. Then he took her hand, still dripping with the same red paint, and drew it to his own chest. There, he led her thumb in the shape of a heart. He stared into her green eyes and she looked at him, smoldering, too. Whatever Ty was doing to him, it was official: He was hers.

“There’s Michigan!” Em tapped JD wildly on the arm.

“Who the hell would come to Maine—from Michigan—in the middle of winter? Don’t they have their own snow?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. We didn’t
have
Michigan yet.” Em pulled a piece of loose-leaf paper from the glove compartment and made a note. “Only thirty-one states to go. . . . God, I can’t wait for summer and tourist plates.”

They were in JD’s car, heading for Dunkin’ Donuts. Em’s car would be in the shop for the next few days, and JD had become her unofficial driver. They’d developed a great routine: He’d wait for her to wake up, then they’d text, meet in JD’s driveway, and head straight for coffee and breakfast sandwiches. Then off to run errands or walk through the mall. Today, Em was supposed to meet up with Chase around three—he
wanted her to write him another poem. She didn’t really have a choice except to say yes. But first, Em wanted to go to Staples or maybe that stationery store up near Portland to find a new writing notebook. Since she obviously couldn’t tell Gabby what she was going through, her journal would have to sub for her best friend.

“So, what kind of notebook are you looking for? A small one, to stick in your bag? Or a big one, like a school notebook?”

“I’m not sure, actually.” Em had been contemplating the same question. “I already have my journal-journal. The one I write in before bed. But this one I want to use for writing projects, not just for my own personal thoughts. You know? But I don’t want it to be
too
nice—I know I won’t use it if it’s too pretty.”

“Like my hat?” Today, JD was wearing a rust-orange fedora, complete with a blue plaid ribbon around the rim. “It’s a little too pretty, huh?” He grinned at her, waiting for her to laugh.

“Yeah, like your hat. Which makes you look like a crazed pimp or a character from a bad detective movie.” She laughed as they were pulling into the lot. “Thank god we’re here. I
need
that coffee if I’m going to deal with you and your hat all day.”

Fortified by hot coffees (lots of milk and one sugar for JD; a little cream and no sugar for Em) and egg-and-cheeses on croissants, they headed to Staples, which sat in a shopping center in the next
town over. On the highway, Em sipped her coffee and stared out the window, ostensibly looking for license plates but also thinking about Zach. She’d purposefully put her phone on silent so that she wouldn’t be listening for a call from him all day.

Still, she couldn’t help thinking of yesterday afternoon. She’d had JD drop her off, claiming that she was tutoring Zach in math—precalc, big test at the end of January. It wasn’t too much of a stretch. She and Zach were in the same math class, and she was better than him. She understood how to solve for the unknown.

Actually, Zach had invited her over to watch a movie, but when she’d arrived, he’d been riding his snowplow around in the backyard, making looping figure eights and shouting for her to hop on. She did, grabbing him from behind like she was on the back of a motorcycle, giggling and burying her nose in his scarf because it was so cold.

“You’re a good copilot!” he’d yelled over the drone of the engine. She’d squeezed him tighter.

Inside, they’d stripped down to T-shirts, socks, and underwear, sweating in some places and frozen in others, and collapsed on his bed with Netflix. They hadn’t watched much of the movie. They’d kissed, laughed, and rolled around in his big bed, in his clean sheets. Everything about him felt so . . . manly. Crisp, plain bedclothes; simple, spare furnishings. The bookshelf in his room held SAT study books and textbooks from the
poli-sci course he’d taken last summer at the local community college. He had stopped trying to put his hand down her pants. They were just waiting until they could tell Gabby, and until then, Emily was so happy just kissing Zach in so many different ways, hard and long or soft and curious, touching his amazing stomach, grabbing his arms. Being underneath him and then crawling on top of him so that her hair formed a cave around their faces.

It felt so real. And so different from every other random hookup she’d ever had—drunk at a party, or in the front seat of a car, hip bones digging into gear shifts, or even the Steve Sawyer “after-school basement special,” as Gabby had taken to calling it.

The truth was, Em had never been in love. She knew that. And beyond the fact that she had such strong feelings for Zach, Em had always been jealous of Gabby and Zach’s relationship as a separate entity—the idea of long-term partnership, of waking up and going to school every morning and knowing that you would hold the same person’s hand between classes. It was what her parents talked about—that feeling of “just knowing.”

And for the first time, she thought she did know. Yesterday, on Zach’s bed, he’d fallen asleep. Right there, with his head on her shoulder, after kissing for hours. She’d stroked his hair and stared at the ceiling while the credits of some car-chase movie rolled on the laptop at the foot of his bed. This was what it was
like to really be with someone. This was what it would be like if she and Zach shared a bed, a room, a life—together. It had made her want to cry, because of how overwhelmed she was. What if they got married? She could picture it. This was love.

“Em, did you hear me? I swear, Georgia just sped by.”

“Um. No, sorry, I didn’t see.” Em shifted in her seat, turning down the heat a notch. She looked at JD, studying his face. The sideburns he’d started growing freshman year. The ridge of his nose, slightly crooked after falling from the highest tree in her yard years ago.

“If we missed Georgia because you were spacing out, I’ll kill you.”

Em couldn’t help it; she leaned over to check her phone. Thank god she did. Her stomach started doing somersaults when she saw there was a message from Zach.
Movie date again?

She wished she could just teleport over to Zach’s house immediately.

“You know what? If I can’t find the notebook here, let’s just go home,” Em said, not caring how sketchy she sounded. “I might need to stop by Zach’s again.”

“More math tutoring?”

“Yeah, more math. That test is going to be wicked hard.” Em could hear her own defensive tone.

“Zach seems awfully preoccupied with his math score of late,” JD said just as they pulled into a parking spot. He put
the car in park but left it on as he turned to face her. “And you, too. Where is this coming from? You were dying to spend half your winter break reviewing the quadratic equation? With Zach McCord?”

“It’s junior year. Every grade counts. We can’t all be supergeniuses.” She tried to keep her tone light as she moved to get out of the car. JD reached out and touched her shoulder, stopping her.

“Em, I’m just saying. You should be careful. It’s starting to seem . . . weird.”

“Weird?” Em forced a laugh. “Come on, JD. Chill out. He barely understands the order of operations.”

“I’m chill, I’m chill. It’s just . . .” JD drew his eyebrows together. “It’s like . . . I feel like something’s up with you.”

“Nothing’s
up
with me. Come on. Let’s go.” Em grabbed her bag from the floor. She could feel JD’s eyes burning into her, and even when she’d placed her hand on the door handle, JD still hadn’t moved.

“Can I just say one thing?” he blurted out, and then, without waiting for her response, went on, “I think it’s weird that you’ve been spending half your winter vacation servicing the needs of your best friend’s boyfriend, while she’s off across the ocean.”

Em felt her heart stutter. She stared at JD, wide-eyed. It was a blatant accusation. “What. Are. You. Saying?” She tried
to keep her face calm, but rising panic was making her feel flushed.

“Remember the other night? When you left on Christmas Eve? That was strange, Em. It wasn’t like you.”

“JD, stop it. You’re being ridiculous—” But as Em talked, fumbling with the lock on the passenger door, she felt her eyes get blurry and she could no longer see what she was doing. Suddenly, the tears came hot and fast. She slumped back against the seat, eyes closed in defeat. Everything she’d been feeling the last few days overwhelmed her. She put her bag down between her feet.

JD cleared his throat and rolled down both their windows just a crack. The glass was fogging. The cold air sliced through the tension between them. “Em?”

For a couple seconds Em couldn’t say anything. And then she knew that she was going to tell.

“You’re right,” she finally spat out. “You’re right, okay? The situation
is
weird. It’s weird because it’s true. I’ve been spending so much time with him—with Zach—because something is, like, going on between us. We’re . . . we’ve fallen for each other. When I left on Christmas Eve, it was that night . . . I mean, you don’t want to hear about all this. But yeah. It’s happening.” Em didn’t know whether to be defiant or apologetic or embarrassed or what. She waited a few seconds, but JD didn’t respond. She rubbed her hands on her thighs.

“You know, it’s not like this came out of nowhere. It’s been building for a long time,” she went on. “And it’s real. We’re just waiting to tell Gabby when she gets home. And, JD, it’s been so hard, but I know it’s right. I mean, it’s wrong, I know that too. But it’s one of those things . . . impossible to deny.”

He still didn’t speak. Was he surprised? Em didn’t think she’d ever seen JD’s face look the way it did then: ashen, angry.

“Are you serious,” he said, finally, slowly; it was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.”

JD was staring straight ahead. His hands were in his lap. “Did you know? Like, when you went over there the other night, did you know that was going to happen?”

“No. I mean, of course not.” Em had to keep telling herself that.

“He did.”

“What do you mean?” In her panic, Em thought for a moment that Zach might actually have discussed this with JD. “How do you know?”

“Because that’s who he is, Em. You really think he would have invited you over on Christmas Eve if he didn’t think he could get some?” JD was blinking a lot. Was this what it was going to be like when they told Gabby?

“It’s not
getting some
, JD. It’s not like that. I know it seems messed up, but I think we’re good together. It just feels right. We’re going to explain it to Gabby.”

“I don’t.” JD almost spit the words. Em found herself recoiling.

“You don’t what?” She tried to keep the tremor from her voice.

“I don’t think you’re
good together
.” Here, JD used exaggerated finger-quotes, mocking her.

Anger flared in Em’s stomach. “Fine. You know what? I don’t
care
what you think. You don’t understand. I didn’t expect you to.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand. Zach uses people, Em. Can’t you see that? And really? You’re going to
explain
it to Gabby? You’ve said yourself that Zach is her whole world. You think she’s going to
understand
?”

Now the anger turned to alarm, ringing inside of her—shrill, hollow. What if JD was right? What had she started? She opened her mouth to defend herself, but JD raised a hand, cutting her off.

“Stop. I don’t want to hear any more.” He put the car in reverse and started to back out of the spot. He’d apparently decided that the shopping mission was over.

“Oh, so we’re done talking?” Em brought her hand down on the dashboard, more forcefully than she’d intended to. “You’re always doing this.”

“What am I always doing, Em?” JD slammed on the brakes and glared at her.

“Making your high-and-mighty decisions. Like
deciding
to drive off, which
obviously
means that we’re done talking. So you can just go home and just—just—look
down
on me without even
understanding
the situation.”

“Fine,” JD said, pulling back into the parking spot with an angry jerk. “You want to go buy a journal, buy a journal. Maybe your journal won’t have any opinions.” He waved to the door. “Go.”

“What does that even mean? What are you talking about?” She was so angry she could hardly see. But it was more than that. She felt like JD had reached into her stomach and squeezed.

“I have a right to my opinions, Em. You’re hurting people.” Here, his voice broke a bit, unexpectedly. “You’re acting like a spoiled child. And for someone who’s not even worth it. Not even remotely worth it.”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” Em scrunched down in her seat and told herself she wouldn’t let JD see how much he had hurt her. “Just take me home.”

“Why don’t I just take you to Zach’s? That’s where you want to go, anyway.”

“Fine. Why don’t you.”

The silence in the car was hideous. JD took off the orange hat and threw it forcefully onto the backseat. Em watched him, out of the corner of her eye, running a hand through his hair over and over.

Outside Zach’s house—she couldn’t believe JD actually brought her there—she took a deep breath and looked at him one more time. He stared stonily ahead. She got out of the car without saying a word, and slammed the door. For a second, as JD peeled out of the driveway and headed home, Em could only stand still, breathing hard. Then, with a firm shake of her shoulders, she walked up the front path to Zach’s house.

“Hey, you,” Zach said, sweeping her into a hug just inside his front door. Zach’s shirt smelled so good that she quickly burrowed into his arms. He held her tight, and she felt the familiar warmth at the bottom of her stomach. She wanted to reach up and kiss him, but JD’s words rang in her ears.
Zach is an asshole. You are hurting people. Gabby, Gabby, Gabby.
This wasn’t right.

“Zach, I’m nervous,” she said, her mouth pressing into the soft cotton.

“Nervous?” He pulled her to arm’s length. The front door still stood open. “About what?”