49

49
“What?” I asked, feigning innocence, pretending not to understand what she was implying.

Anne gave me a look—the kind that strips away any lie you might try to tell. “Really? Are we doing this?”

She hadn’t even started the car yet when I caught sight of Emma stepping out of the building. My eyes automatically shifted, drawn to her like gravity. Anne noticed.

Her gaze followed mine, and without missing a beat, she asked, “Were you two a couple?”

My head snapped toward her so fast it almost gave me whiplash. “W-What?”

How is she so good at this?

“Well,” she continued casually, buckling her seatbelt, “given the silent stare-off you two just had, I’d say she was definitely jealous. Especially when I held your hand.”

She started the car like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb. Like what she said was the most normal thing in the world. Like she already knew.

Wait—does she know? Does she know that I…?

Even though we were close growing up, I never once told Anne about liking girls. I was never comfortable talking about it. Not with family.

I stared at her, dumbfounded, while she focused on the road, not even sparing me a glance.

“S-She’s our new neighbor,” I mumbled, the best I could come up with under pressure.

“Uh-hmm.” Her tone was dry. Disbelieving.

My mind drifted back to Emma—the look on her face when she saw me with Anne. I could tell she was jealous, and that made me... a little happy. It meant she still cared. I knew she did.

But she also looked… different. Sad. Thinner than I remembered. Pale, almost. Has she not been eating? Has she been crying too?

It’s only been a little over two weeks since I last saw her, and yet, she looked like she had lost something vital.

The car pulled up in front of a bowling alley. Neon signs flickered, and laughter floated from inside.

Anne hopped out and gestured for me to follow. She walked straight to the ticket window, paid for us both, and handed me one without saying a word.

Inside, the place was buzzing. Kids crowded the arcade section on the side, their laughter mixing with the ding-ding-ding of pinball machines. The bowling lanes were in the center, bright and noisy. A concession counter sold sodas and nachos. The upper floor was full of young adults cheering and groaning over some video game tournament, beers in hand.

It looked fun, energetic.

But I felt… empty.

How I wish I was here with someone who—

“Hey!” Anne tapped me on the head.

“Ouch!” I yelped, rubbing the spot.

“You were flying somewhere,” she teased. I didn’t even realize we were already standing in front of our lane, drinks on the table behind us. Non-alcoholic for sure.

She handed me a bowling ball and gestured for me to go first.

I stepped up to the line, gripping the ball.

“So, is she the reason for the tears and the awful Toni Braxton cover?”

And just like that, the ball slipped from my hand—and went straight into the gutter.

I turned to her with wide eyes. “W-Wha—”

“Jen, don’t even try to deny it. It’s obvious. I don’t need to be a mind reader.”

She was dead serious now, her teasing gone. She walked to the table and sat down, signaling for me to do the same.

“And it’s okay. You like girls. Big deal.”

I sat, dazed. Her words echoed in my head.

“Tell me—how did she hurt you? Do I need to go back there and kick her ass? ‘Cause I will.”

I let out a long sigh. There was no point pretending anymore.

“How do you know it was her who hurt me?” I asked, folding my arms.

Anne gave me a soft look. “Because she had guilty eyes. And yours? Just sad.”

God, she’s annoyingly good at this.

“So?” she prompted. “Are you gonna keep dancing around it, or just tell me already?”

I took a long sip of my soda and then—finally—I told her everything.

Everything but the part where Emma and I were physically intimate. She didn’t need to know that.

Anne didn’t interrupt. She just listened, nodding occasionally. When I finished, I leaned back, unsure of what her reaction would be.

She didn’t speak at first. Her brow was furrowed, her lips pursed in thought. I nervously drummed my fingers against the table, waiting.

Finally…

“Well,” she said, leaning back with a small smile, “I gotta say, sis—you’ve got balls.”

That was... unexpected.

“I mean it,” she continued. “Most girls your age would cling to someone like her. But you didn’t. And even though I’m not exactly thrilled about this age gap thing—she’s what, 27? She’s older than me!”

“Well…”

“Yeah, yeah. Love knows no age. I’ve heard it before. But Jen, you’re still a minor. That matters. Especially legally.”

She looked at me seriously now.

“I know,” I muttered. “But we didn’t plan it. It just... happened.”

“Did you sleep with her?” she asked bluntly.

My eyes widened. “Anne!”

She smirked. “What? Come on. You basically lived in her apartment. Don’t tell me you two just cooked and watched TV. And didn’t you sleep over once or twice? Were you just cuddling the whole night?”

Her smirk turned into a full-on grin.

I blushed furiously. There was no escape. “You’re impossible.”

“So, was it good?”

“Oh my God, Anne!” I buried my face in my hands.

“What? Spill!”

I glared at her, but she only laughed harder.

Eventually, I gave in. “Fine. Yes.”

“My baby sister’s not a baby anymore!” she sang out, placing a hand dramatically over her heart.

“Okay, okay. Jokes aside,” she said, sobering, “what’s your plan now?”

I blinked. “Plan?”

“Yeah. Are you gonna do something? Or are you just gonna keep moping in your room, listening to sad love songs and crying into your pillow?”

I hesitated. “She told me not to wait for her. I cooled things off. What kind of plan should I even have?”

Anne leaned forward, folding her arms on the table. “Let me ask you this—are you trying to get over her?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She reached over and tapped my head again.

“Ow! Anne!”

“You're so stupid sometimes,” she said. “I thought you were being mature, handling your heartbreak like a champ. But you’re not even trying.”

Her voice softened.

“Jen. If you don’t want to move on... then fight for her.”

I stared at her, speechless.

“I know she told you not to wait, but sometimes people say that because they think they’re doing the right thing. Doesn’t mean they don’t want to be chased. Maybe she wants to know you’d still choose her, even after everything.”

I looked away. “But it’s still fresh. We just... broke up.”

Anne gave me a deadpan look. “It’s been over two weeks. You think that’s ‘just’? Jen, a lot can happen in an hour. In two weeks? Her whole life could’ve changed. She might’ve accepted the proposal. Or gotten back together with the guy. What if they move in together? What if next time you see her, you’re not just neighbors anymore, but she’s living there with her husband?”

The thought made my stomach drop.

Anne reached across the table, her voice softer again.

“You don’t have to throw yourself at her feet. But if she means that much to you, don’t let this be the end. Not unless she truly wants it to be.”

Her words settled over me like a weighted blanket.

Emma.

I thought avoiding her would make the pain easier. But seeing her again—just for a second—had unraveled everything I’d been trying to hold together. Her thin face. Her sad eyes. Her surprised expression when she saw Anne and me together.

She cared. I know she did.

And I care too much to pretend I don’t.

Anne sat back with a grin. “So... what’s it gonna be? Operation Win-Back-the-Girl or Back-to-the-Tissues?”

I let out a shaky breath.

Maybe... maybe it’s time I stop crying and start trying.

Emma.
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