Chapter Five

Given how late it was and that they had worked straight through lunch, "fun" was currently defined as "food" for Emma and Anne. They'd seen a taqueria en route to the animal shelter, and the tantalizing smells of grilled meat and fresh corn tortillas were still strong in their minds. Emma's mouth watered thinking about it hours later.

Still, while food was important, so were appearances. Emma dragged Anne upstairs to her bedroom, where Anne made herself at home on the bed and flipped through a magazine. Emma streamed in a pop channel and blasted it on her speakers. She changed into layers—jeans, a lace white tank, and a thin, jade-colored wrap cardigan that matched her eyes. She felt naked until she finished off the look with a dozen long-chain necklaces, hoop earrings, and a few gold knuckle rings. Her head bobbed to the quick beat of the song as she hummed her way to the bathroom. A swipe of lip gloss, a tousle of her hair, and she was ready to go.

She toyed with the brief, immature thought of not telling the boys where they'd gone, but realizing Knight would worry, she did him the courtesy of texting their plans as she and Anne left the house.

Everything okay? was his reply.

The answer was no. Everything was not okay. But she didn't know what to say or how it could be fixed. Maybe she was just tired and angry and hungry, and even though Knight would normally be the perfect anecdote to a bad mood, the thought of calling on him now was unsettling. She knew, for the first time in her life, that Knight wasn't going to make things better.

Duh, she wrote back.

Anne and Emma sang along to blaring music from the car speakers until they pulled into the parking lot, which was crammed full with cars parked at odd angles so more could fit.

"A good sign," Emma said as they circled twice to find a spot. Her stomach grumbled as they walked up to the taqueria. They passed packed outdoor benches before they made it inside and even then had to maneuver full tables and the busy salsa bar to reach the line that trailed to the counter.

The closer they got to the counter, the more intricate their order became. What had started as just getting "a taco"—as they both had insisted—slowly morphed, until by the time Emma made it to the register, she asked for, "Nachos. Two carnitas tacos. Chips and guac, plus a watermelon agua fresca." She'd run it off later and throw in some sit-ups for good measure.

Anne fumbled beside her before saying, "Same."

Emma raised a brow. "You sure about that? This much food is not for the faint of heart."

Anne rubbed her stomach. "Plenty of room."

The hot, fresh order was quickly placed on two sets of trays, which Emma and Anne grabbed. When they turned around, though, there was still no place to sit. Every booth, every table, every inch of space was crawling with denim shorts and bikini tops, tanned shoulders and bleached blond hair. The air smelled as much of salty seawater and coconut sunscreen as simmering beans and cheese.

"Maybe we can get it to go?" Anne suggested.

Emma firmed her grip on the tray. "Not a chance. We'll just find some new, fun people to sit with and get to know."

"Strangers?" Tension lengthened Anne's neck and sharpened her features.

"Strangers are just future friends," Emma said. "Come on." She edged through the horde, sweeping the table surfaces with her gaze. She used her tray to slice through the crowd. Most of the tables were full with a few people standing over their friends, reaching over shoulders to grab bites. She looked for smaller groups with a few empty seats. She saw an opening in the corner—a booth with only a single occupant.

"Come on, Anne. Let's make a new friend."

By the time she reached the booth she saw a few other vultures standing by to swoop in. Emma set down the tray and audaciously scooted into the booth. Before she could introduce herself and flash her most flirtatious smile, the guy looked up in surprise.

"Miss Greene?"

Frank Churchill, sans white coat, seemed younger now than he had running around the shelter. In fact, he barely looked out of college in a striped polo and jeans.

Emma's smile widened. Victory was hers.

He sat back. "Did you need something?"

"Just a dining partner," Emma said. She gestured Anne over, who upon seeing the guy was someone they knew, smiled with relief and slid into the booth. Emma managed to swallow the triumphant grin she wished to give the desperate onlookers who had been hoping for the seat. "We saw this place on our way to the shelter earlier, and we're so hungry from working so hard."

"I eat here every time I finish up for the day. I shouldn't." He patted his stomach. "The calories."

"You can't even tell," Emma said graciously. "Besides, taking care of animals is hard work. Anne was just telling me how sore she was from wrestling the big dogs into the shower."

"We appreciate the help," Frank said. "Live events always lead to the most adoptions. If those dogs and cats hadn't been ready, they could have stayed in the shelter longer and then…well, you know what happens. You guys really made a difference today."

Emma preened under the praise and couldn't wait to share it with her mom.

"All the animals were so cute," Anne gushed. "I can't imagine them not all being adopted."

"Our success rate is pretty high. We pride ourselves on it." He took notice of their full trays. "You weren't kidding about working up an appetite."

"We're ravenous," Emma said. She glanced over to Anne, who picked up a fork and speared her nachos. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Anne scooped up a second mouthful of beans, cheese, and chips.

"You're using a fork?"

"Yeah…less mess."

Emma stuck her fingers into her nachos and then waved her sticky, cheese-drenched fingers in front of Anne's nose.

"Oh, gross." Anne pulled back, her nose crinkled.

Frank laughed. "May I?" When Emma nodded, he reached for a nacho, which he ate with gusto, getting cheese sauce on his hands.

"Look at this," a male voice said.

Emma felt a frisson run down her spine as her head snapped up. Knight towered over the booth, his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Did you guys have fun at the bonfire?" Anne asked.

Emma tried to kick Anne under the table because she wasn't supposed to know they were at a bonfire, but she ended up stubbing her toe against the booth instead.

She ignore the raised eyebrow from Knight, who, clever boy, seemed to be putting together that Emma knew exactly where he'd been all night. Instead, she focused her radiant smile on Frank Churchill and pushed her tray toward him. "Have some more nachos. I'm happy to share."

Frank took another chip, and Emma reached for one at the same time.

"Do you want to join us?" Anne asked.

"Dunno." Knight shrugged. "Might be too cozy."

Knight pointed to the line where Josh and Rick were standing. Knight then looked pointedly at Frank.

"We can squeeze," Anne said. "Can't we?"

Who did Knight think he was just showing up whenever he felt like it and going to bonfires when he didn't feel like it?

"That's not really fair," Emma said. "This is Frank's booth. You and I are crashing already. We can't expect Frank to give up his booth just so the guys can join us."

"Didn't you want us to join you?" Knight pulled out his phone. "You texted us what you were doing."

"It would have been rude not to. Because it's polite to let people know your plans. You don't just go your own way and tell us afterward," Emma said tartly.

Knight made a face at her, confused and a little annoyed. But before she could respond Frank rose to his feet.

"I need to catch up with some people anyway." He wiped his hands off a spare napkin, which he balled up and tossed into a trash can.

"Are you sure?" Emma asked.

"It's no problem. Thanks for sharing your nachos. I'll see you all tomorrow."

"Bye, Frank."

He nodded at her. "Miss Greene."

Emma shoved another chip in her mouth as her cheeks heated up at being addressed so formally after she'd gone and called him Frank. Knight dropped into the booth next to her, and it felt natural to shimmy up to his side.

"That was rude," she said.

"So is hitting on underage girls."

"He was not hitting on us." Still, Emma couldn't deny the slight perverse thrill she got in the pit at her stomach that Knight thought Frank had been hitting on her. She was demented. It was the only explanation.

"Frank wasn't like that all," Anne said. "And you shouldn't accuse him of that recklessly."

"Sorry. You're right." Knight seemed duly chastised. "That was a dumb thing to say. I don't know what got into me."

"There's nothing wrong with being friendly." Emma picked up another chip and popped it into her mouth. She slapped away Knight's hand when he reached for some. "I'm not really a sharer."

"Does Frank know that?" Knight asked.

Anne pushed her nachos forward in offering. Knight took a few and smiled at her. Emma felt something like queasiness in her stomach. Maybe she'd eaten too much. "Anne worked hard all day for those nachos. Rick and Josh better be ordering another round for you."

"Yep, I was sent to scout for seats. Lucky for me, I found two hot girls who were willing to share."

"Their booth. Not their meal," Emma said, although she couldn't bring herself to eat another bite of her food.

"Loud and clear, Emma."

"Josh! Rick!" Emma called out to the register. "Don't forget something for Knight."

Rick raised his fist in the air in answer, not turning around, as he heard her. A few moments later when he finally did walk toward them, he was holding two trays piled high with paper-wrapped soft tacos. He scooted in next to Knight, and Knight and Emma were forced even closer, their thighs touching.

This meant Josh would have to sit next to Anne in the only empty seat left in the booth. Not that it mattered. She cast a forlorn glance at Josh who was giving his order at the counter—and her mouth dropped as he casually laid his arm across the shoulder of the girl standing next to him.

The girl had short, spiky hair, wore a red halter bikini top and loose, flowing white skirt that hung low on her waist. She draped her hand around Josh's hip and whispered in his ear.

"Who is that?" Emma asked.

"Oh…I can't remember her name." Knight squinted thoughtfully. "I don't think Josh actually told us her name. She's from the bonfire and can walk on her hands. That's all I got."

"You sent Frank away to make room for some stranger?" After all that talk from Josh about being in love with Fanny, he had the nerve to pick up a girl at a bonfire and bring her to eat with the rest of them? Was nothing sacred? "Is Josh rubbing it in?" she muttered under her breath. She asked Anne, "We can head out if you're done. We don't need to wait around for these guys to eat."

Anne flashed her last taco. "Almost done."

Almost wasn't soon enough. Josh turned around, burrito in hand, and sauntered over with the girl next to him. "Whoa, ladies," he said when he reached them "You gotta stop stalking me like this."

Emma's gaze slid across the girl. She looked nice enough. Cheery smile. Nose ring. Friendly eyes. A bit too eager and starry eyed over Josh, in Emma's opinion.

"So…" Josh pulled the girl closer. "Emma, Anne—I found a mark for tomorrow's adoption event. She is soooo ready to bring a puppy home. Meet—"

"Do we really need to know the name of yet another girl you're hooking up with?" Emma asked.

"Emma!" Anne elbowed her in the side.

"Ow." She rubbed her ribs. "I just mean what's the point of learning the names of every girl Josh brings around? Are we ever going to see her again?"

Emma felt another wave of queasiness as the girl unlatched herself from Josh's side, spun around, and stalked away. The queasiness turned her belly to a dark, sticky pit as Josh ran after the girl. Even Anne scooted out of the booth.

"I'll see if she's okay."

Rick was only a second behind her.

"What was that about?" Knight asked. "Did you see her kicking a puppy at the shelter or something?"

"No, I just…" Emma dropped her forehead to the Formica table. "I didn't have anything against her. Josh just got done telling me how he was still in love with Fanny and that's why he isn't into Anne, and now he's all over this girl?" She groaned and sat back up.

"He wasn't all over that girl. They met at the bonfire…where Josh spent the whole night telling people about tomorrow's adoption event. He felt bad he hadn't been more helpful because of his condition, and he figured it would be a good way to do something. They're all probably going to show up just to see him. Half of them will end up adopting a pet. Isn't that the whole point of this weekend? The adoption event?"

"It is," Emma said, "but I thought—"

"No, Emma." Knight stood. "You don't think. You only want and then you get, consequences be damned. You know what I liked most about you, Emma? Even with everything else, you weren't a mean girl. At least I didn't think so." He balled up his napkin, dropped it on his tray, and picked up the tray forcefully and walked away.

Desperation seized her—to pull him back, to make him stay. Emma felt a dozen defenses leap to her lips but she couldn't say any of them because they weren't true. She'd felt slighted. She'd wanted to lash back. But instead of taking out her anger on Josh, however misplaced, she'd directed it at some poor innocent girl who had never done anything to hurt her.

Which made her exactly the kind of girl she didn't like: one who had to be mean to other people to feel better about herself.

She sat at the booth alone, her arms shaking, that awful darkness in her stomach feeling like it was going to crawl up her throat. She couldn't stand Knight being out there, disappointed in her. Maybe even hating her.

Emma ran out after her friends, but she only found Anne standing by her sports car.

"They took her home," Anne said. "She was…"

"Angry?"

"Something like that." Anne bit her lip and looked down at her feet.

"Say it," Emma prompted. "I just got done telling you that you could say whatever you wanted to me."

"Why were you so mean to her? Do you know her or something?"

"No. I don't know what got into me. I was being a jerk," Emma admitted. "Josh had just got done telling me why he wasn't interested in you. Then he brings her around. I thought he was being a hypocrite."

"Oh, no, Emma." Anne groaned. "Please tell me you weren't mean to her for me."

Emma felt even worse as Anne covered her face in her hands. "None of this is your fault or has anything to do with you. It's all me. I don't know what's wrong with me sometimes. I wanted to help. All I want to do is help."

The hurt slid slowly off Anne's face, but Emma still sensed the wariness in her eyes. The fun all gone from the evening, they got in the car so Emma could drive them home. She tried to think of something to say that would restore Anne's trust in her. She tried to think of something to say to the boys so they realized how awful she felt about being mean. But whatever words she came up with just twisted in her stomach.

By the time they reached the house, Anne begged off to bed, saying she was tired. The pool house lights were already off.

Emma went upstairs alone. She fingered the buttons on her cell phone. It was late on the East Coast, but she couldn't go to bed with all this nervous energy running through her.

She called her mom, hoping she'd answer. Her mother was always a source of positivity. Always upbeat. She'd have Emma back to feeling right in no time.

Gail Greene answered her phone the way she always did: eager and full of energy. "Emma, darling, how is your weekend?"

Emma didn't want to answer. She couldn't without betraying how awful she felt. "How was the symphony gala?" she asked instead.

"Outstanding. Two thousand full plates. Record-setting donations. The mayor attended, of course. Him, we were expecting, but the first lady also put in an appearance. She was stunning. Wearing a red Alexander Wang. Did you see the pictures?"

"Not yet."

"Everyone misses you. I wish you were here, too." She could hear her mom pouting over the phone. "Are you sure you don't want to fly in for the day? I could have a ticket waiting for you at the airport."

Emma heard a whimper—her mom's new wheat terrier. She imagined her mother reclining on a chaise, ankles crossed so her spiked heels dangled over the edge, as she stroked her beloved dog's ears.

"I'm not finished here, Mom. The Oceanside Animal Shelter adoption event is tomorrow, and we spent all day preparing for it."

"Didn't we donate to them? I'm sure they could hire someone else."

"But then they wouldn't have money for doctors and staff and rescues," Emma said patiently. "Besides, I'm having fun. I organized their files in no time. They weren't even cross-referencing their donor records. But I got those all up-to-date."

"That's such a small thing, Emma. We could buy them a new record-keeping software system if that would help. Should we? I'll have my assistant call them."

Emma gritted her perfectly straight teeth. A no pressed against her lips. A selfish no. Because the shelter could use a record-keeping system beyond triplicate forms and clipboards. So what if it wounded her pride? So what if it vanquished her accomplishments and made her efforts entirely irrelevant? "I can find an app."

"I'll have a professional look into it, Emma."

"Thanks, Mom." Again, she heard the terrier's yips and her mother's charmed laughter.

"Is there anything else to share, dear?"

What else… She hadn't done anything worth mentioning recently. Nothing on par with single-handedly funding the New York City Symphony Orchestra for an entire year. "Not really."

"Are your friends enjoying the house?"

"Yeah, they're having a good time."

"You should, too, dear. Forget the shelter. Just lie by the pool! No need to trouble yourself, really. We'll take care of it."

Her parents were so thoughtful. They were always taking care of her and everyone around her. She saw how people looked at her mom and dad.

With awe. With gratitude. With respect.

And why not? Her parents built hospitals, saved refugees, and supported the arts. Health, life, culture. Such big things. Whereas all Emma had done today was insult a perfectly nice girl, destroy Anne's trust in her, mess up a matchmaking scheme, and… alienated Knight.

Something had changed between them. He'd once been her best friend, her confidant, and now it seemed as if every twisted, dark feeling that flooded her body could be pinpointed as starting with him.