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He glances at Emily and
something unspoken passes between them, just like it did yesterday
before she and I escaped the parking garage. Something's up, but it
seems to be family-only.
    "They called my brother and my
dad."
    "You in trouble?" I realize how dumb a
question that is and rephrase. "How much trouble are you
in?"
    He shrugs, but there's something under
the surface, something he isn't saying. "When my bro went to get
the surveillance tapes, something happened, and they didn't work
right." He looks at Emily again. "So there's no proof you guys were
even there. They took fingerprints, but I doubt they'll find
anything on you two."
    "But we were probably on video shopping
and eating together," Emily says.
    "I told them Brett took you home
because you wanted some alone-time."
    He waggles his eyebrows in an
exaggerated way, and her skin turns pink again. She drops her gaze,
suddenly inordinately interested in her food.
    "What happened?" Erick asks.
    "Nothing!"
    "We had a moment."
    Our words overlap, and she glares at
me. I slide my arm off the back of her chair—it wasn't even
touching her—to wrap around her shoulders. I snug her close to me,
and there’s that elbow in the stomach I've been expecting. I have
to let her go.
    "That's the same impression we gave her
mom," I tell Erick, who has leaned back in his chair with arms
crossed, looking suspicious. "If the garage surveillance tapes were
destroyed, then they probably can't prove what time we left, and
her mom can corroborate the story."
    I slide my foot next to hers beneath
the table. Only a bump of my boot against her shoe. I want to
remind her that I'm not going away, not after she opened up to me—a
little—yesterday.
    But the movement sends pain shooting up
my shin.
    I try to cover with a cough, but Erick
is watching me.
    "What's up? You sore?" His words are
more dubious than concerned.
    And Emily turns to me, eyes flicking
over me, cataloging me.
    And not in the way she was checking me
out yesterday.
    "I'm fine," I lie.
    "You are kind of pale," she
says.
    "I'm fine ," I insist.
    There's no way I want Emily's pity.
I've seen it before, plenty of times, with nurses and the grandmas
that also see my rheumatologist. They feel sorry for me because I'm
a fraction of their age and have the same awful chronic pain they
do.
    I want Emily to like me for me, not
feel sorry for me.
    I lean over the table, ignoring the
flame of pain up my spine. "You want to tell me what those monsters
were?" I ask Erick, attempting a distraction tactic of my
own.
    It works. His eyes flare wide with
surprise before he blanks his face.
    His silence is evidence
enough for me. "That's about what Emily said," I say. They both
know what those things were.
    They just won't tell me. I've got some
suspicions, but it seems too fantastical to be true.
    But there's no arguing with the fact
that the dudes were super strong. They wouldn't go down from a blow
that would've knocked a normal human being unconscious.
    Can I assume they weren't human at
all?
    "Is there any chance some of them will
come after me?" I ask, voice low.
    Emily stands up, picking up her empty
tray. Is she going to just walk away from the
conversation?
    "Not if you stay away from us," she
throws over her shoulder.
    Truth, or dare?

 
     
    9 - Emily
    Thwack! My tape-wrapped fist connects with Brett’s blocking elbow,
giving a satisfying smack.
    "So you kissed me
yesterday."
    "Ssh," I hiss at him, settling back
into a half-lunge, in preparation for a second offensive. I shoot a
look around the large room with its padded walls and floors.
Nobody’s paying particular attention to us. Probably, nobody heard.
Still… "You said that already," I remind him,
whispering.
    There are five black belts in our
class, and we regularly rotate as sparring partners. And joy of
joys, today is my day with Brett. After our interesting and
embarrassing lunch conversation.
    He fills out his
white gi through
the shoulders. I look down, trying not to