Dirty Little Secret

But she’ll be gone with him all weekend, leaving me on my own. But if Samson wants to see me, I’m definitely okay with that too.

Me: Nothing really… what about you?

Samson: Figured I would hit up Bandits with some guys. Grab some drinks.

And just as quickly as it soared, my heart plummets, all the way down to my damn feet.

Me: Cool. Sounds fun.

Samson: When do I get to see you again?

Me: idk.

Samson: You mad, Luna?

Me: Nope. Talk later.

Samson: Talk now. What’s wrong?

I know I should talk to him—I should tell him what’s on my mind and why I’m upset, but if he doesn’t know what today is, then fuck him. And I don’t care how bratty that sounds.

Me: It’s nothing. I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later for real. Emmy needs me.

I turn my ringer to silent and toss my phone down onto the coffee table. As far as the rest of the world’s concerned it’s just another day—and that’s exactly how I’m going to treat it.

It’s not like it can be worse than last year, right?

“Are you ready to…” Emmy starts, stepping into the living room. “Hey, what’s got you looking so down?”

“Just tired.” I force a smile, trying to shake off my melancholy.

She plops down beside me. “Classes, or something else?”

I scooch closer to her and rest my head on her shoulder. “It’s nothing important. Is it time to get you ready?”

“Yeah, Sterling will be here soon.” Her eyes shine with excitement, and even though I’m feeling pretty low, I can’t help but be happy for her. Emmalyn Price deserves all of the good things.

“Let’s go then!” I jump up from the couch, thankful for the distraction.

She follows me into my room, planting in my swivel chair while I hunt down my curling wand.

I plug it in and then begin combing and sectioning her hair. “Are you nervous?”

“Yeah. No.” Emmy shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“But it’s your first real date, right?” I ask, carefully wrapping a section of hair around the barrel.

“That’s weird, right?” She scrunches her nose. “That I’m eighteen and just now going on my first date?”

“I don’t think so.” I let down the next section of hair and begin curling it. “But what do I know? My brother sure as hell never let anyone take me out.”

Emmy grins. “Imagine that… you lost your V-card before you even went on your first date.” Her entire body deflates. “Well, I guess we both did.”

“Nope.” My eyes hold hers in the mirror. “No, ma’am.”

I want so badly to toss my curling wand aside and to hug her as tightly as I can, but I force myself not to, knowing that touching her would only make things worse.

She’s overcome so much since moving here, but sometimes these dark thoughts still hang over her like a perpetual storm cloud.

“It’s true.” The words are spoken so softly, so brokenly, that I no longer want to hurl my curling wand… nope… I want to set it to high heat and use it to kill her despicable stepbrother.

Morbid, but true. The sorry sack of crap doesn’t deserve to live after the horrors he put my best friend through.

“Good vibes only,” I say, forcing pep into my tone. “Today is a good day and tonight is going to be even better, okay?”

“You think so?” Emmy asks, a slight tremor to her voice.

“Yup.” I move to the next section. “Physics says so.”

“Physics?” She tries to look my way, but I whop the comb softly against her head.

“Yeah. Like, you’ve had so many awful things happen to you, it’s time for good. I’m pretty sure it’s a universal karmic law or something.”

Emmy giggles and I mentally pat myself on the back. “You’re a mess.”

“And yet, you love me.” I grab my favorite hairspray and coat her freshly curled locks with it.

“More than you know,” she says solemnly.

“Do you want me to do your makeup too?”

Emmy waves me off but tells me I can pick her outfit—a task I’m all too happy to take on. After a lifetime of dressing like a good girl, I took great joy in reinventing my style after graduation, much to my entire family’s dismay.

I unplug my curling wand before heading into Emmy’s room to raid her closet. Her wardrobe is smaller than mine, but I know I can make it work.

Digging through her closet, I grab everything I think could make the perfect date night outfit. Along with some other pieces, which I fold and pack into a weekend bag.

“Um. Stell.” Emmy enters the room, her eyes wide and her lips in a perfectly shocked ‘O.’

I can’t help it—I laugh as I take in the mess. There are clothes everywhere. “I know. I’ll clean it up. But I think I’ve narrowed it down.”

“Let’s see it.”

I proudly display my two final options—a casual look made up of jeans and a cozy sweater versus a long-sleeved maxi dress.