I stare out the window, the landscape familiar. We’re getting closer to home, thank God. “And you guys kept it from me?”
“Emma swore me to secrecy,” Tori says, tugging on my shoulder so I face her. I see the worry in her expression and also filling her gaze. She didn’t want to upset me. “Emma thought she was being a good friend, giving him advice about you. She wasn’t doing it in a malicious way.”
A sigh leaves me. I know Tori is speaking the truth, but it still hurts that they never told me. “Do the boys really say I’m an ice queen?”
Tori tilts her head, her brows scrunching together. “I’ve never heard that before.”
“Emma says they do,” I whisper, glancing around. Though I guess I shouldn’t care who overhears me. The worst part of our earlier conversation was already heard by pretty much everyone in this van.
“So what if they do? Who cares what they think?” Tori says with a kind smile.
“I do. I care what Beck thinks.” My voice cracks and I press my lips together.
“And has he called you an ice queen?”
“No.” I rest my head on the back of the seat, staring at the van’s ceiling. I have been anything but an ice queen with Beck. He looks at me and I immediately melt. He touches me and it’s as if his fingers set me on fire.
“Then it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about you and Beck. Or what we think about Emma and Marcus. It’s your own business.” Tori’s eyes are wide as she watches me. “I confessed to her that she puts all of her drama on us and it’s exhausting.”
“You did?” I’m shocked.
Tori nods. “I think she’s a little irritated with me too, but she’ll get over it. We can rectify this friendship, don’t you think?”
“Of course we can,” I say absently, rubbing my arms. I don’t want Emma angry with me, but I’m also tired of her putting her drama on me.
Tori’s right. It’s exhausting.
By the time I’m walking into my house, all I want to do is take a warm shower and collapse into bed. Maybe sleep the rest of my Sunday away. Even though I know Beck wants to see me, and I definitely want to see him, I need to clear my head first.
Take a nap.
Put the argument between Emma and me out of my mind for at least a few hours.
“There you are,” Mom says in greeting, stopping short in the middle of the living room when she sees me. “Have fun this weekend?”
I nod, dropping my duffel bag onto the floor next to me. “I’m so tired.”
“I bet.” She comes to me and pulls me in for a hug, which I return halfheartedly before she lets me go. “We missed you. This is the first year we didn’t go to your tournament with you, and it’s your last one.”
She wanted to come, but my little brother had a cross country meet all day Saturday and she needed to be there for him more than I needed her. And Dad was too busy working, as usual.
“You didn’t miss much, but yeah. I had fun. I need a shower and a nap.” I grab my bag again and start for my room when she stops me, her fingers wrapping around my upper arm.
“Your grandparents are coming for dinner so don’t nap for too long,” she tells me.
“Oh God. They are?” I’m whining like a baby, but a Sunday family dinner is the last thing I want to deal with tonight.
“They want to see you and hear all about your tournament.” Mom beams.
It takes everything I’ve got not to collapse and start crying. Instead, I mutter, “Okay,” and head down the hall to my bedroom, where I toss my bag on the floor, grab a few things and then lock myself in the bathroom, so I can take a shower.
My phone dings before I even turn on the water and I check to see it’s a text from Beck.
Beck: We still on for tonight?
Everyone wants something from me, I swear. Though I know Beck isn’t like that. Not really. He just wants to see me. Be there for me.
And I want to see him. I really do. Mom’s not going to make it easy though. If I ask, she’ll tell me no, I can almost guarantee it.
Me: I don’t know. My grandparents are coming over for dinner.
Beck: After dinner then? I just want to see you for a few minutes. I’ve missed you.
My heart swells. He really is the only one who can make me feel good right now.
Me: Maybe after they leave?
Beck: I can swing by. We can just sit in my car for a few minutes.
Me: Things happen when we’re in your car…
I chew on my lower lip, surprised at myself that I mentioned it, but I had to. We’re up to no good when we’re in the 4Runner and he knows it.
Beck: Only good things.
He sends me three blushing emojis and I laugh.
Me: Don’t act like you’re embarrassed.
Beck: I’m not. I still can’t stop thinking about what happened last Saturday in my 4Runner.
Now I’m blushing. Everywhere.
I have to see him. I just…
I have to.
Me: I’ll text you when my grandparents leave. Then you can come over and we can hang out for a bit.
Beck: In my car?
Me: Definitely in your car…
TWENTY-NINE
BECK
Addie didn’t text me to come over to her house until almost nine, and her message was cryptic.
Head over now, but park around the corner from my house and text me when you get there, okay? I’ll come out and meet you.
I do exactly as she asks, parking my 4Runner before I send her a quick text letting her know I’m here. Rolling down the window, I stare out, my knee bouncing, nerves erupting in my stomach.
Not sure why we’re sneaking around. Maybe because of her mom? She mentioned she could be kind of strict.
Within a couple minutes of my sending the text, she’s right in front of me, popping her head through my open window. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
We lean toward each other automatically, our lips meeting in a too-quick kiss. She pulls away just as fast, glancing left, then right, before she goes around the front of my car and climbs into the passenger seat.
“Want to get out of here?” she asks.
“Sure.” I put the car in drive and pull away, heading out of her neighborhood. “Did you sneak out?”
She’s quiet, and when I chance a look at her, I see a sneaky smile on her face.
“You did,” I accuse her, shaking my head. “And here I thought you were a good girl.”
Her mood shifts, turning somber. “I have a question to ask you.”
“What is it?” Apprehension tries to grip me and I tell myself to chill.
“Have you ever heard any of your friends call me an…ice queen?”
I frown, hating how worried she sounds. “No. Why? Who told you that?”
A sigh leaves her and she explains how she had an argument with Emma on the van ride home this afternoon.
“…she said that I have a reputation as an ice queen among the guys in our class,” she finishes, sounding sad. “I had no idea.”
“Me either, and I’m friends with a lot of guys in our class.” I turn right and head north on the highway. “I don’t believe it.”