“Hey,” Chloe answered. Her voice sounded dampened and morose, and Emily’s chest tightened. Chloe hadn’t explained why she’d wanted to meet her tonight—only that they needed to talk. What if she’d seen her father kiss Emily? What if A had told her? A’s note pounded in her head: Naughty, naughty! You just love to be bad, Killer!
Chloe made her way to Emily, and they both walked through the covered bridge. For a while, the only sounds were their boots crunching through the thin layer of crushed ice. Chloe pulled out a flashlight from her pocket and shone it on the wooden beams, stonework, and graffiti tags. Brad + Gina. Kennedy is a bitch. Go Rosewood Sharks.
Chloe still hadn’t said a word. Her silence began to unnerve Emily, so she took a deep breath. “Chloe, I’m really, really sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Chloe turned around. “I’m sorry.”
Emily squinted at her. “But I—”
“I had so much to drink last night,” Chloe interrupted. “A couple glasses before you came, a couple glasses while you were there . . . the whole night is a blur. I barely remember going to bed. I left the responsibility of Grace up to you.”
The cold was beginning to make Emily’s feet numb. “Oh,” she finally sputtered. “It’s okay. Grace was fine.” She stepped forward. She had to come clean about Chloe’s dad. This wasn’t a way to start a friendship, and the last thing Emily wanted was to keep yet another secret from someone. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Wait, let me finish.” Chloe raised her palms in a halting gesture. “I was hiding something from you last night. I shouldn’t have been drinking. I had a problem with it back in North Carolina—I had these friends who drank all the time, I acted out because of my parents’ issues, and I took things too far. One time, I even had to be hospitalized for alcohol poisoning.”
“Oh, Chloe!” Emily covered her mouth with her hands. “That’s awful!”
A huge burst of steam puffed from Chloe’s nostrils. “I know. I was out of control. And yesterday was kind of . . . a relapse. My parents would kill me if they knew—they had me in rehab programs, but I swore I was better and didn’t need to go to the meetings anymore. That’s why I went to bed last night without telling you—I didn’t want them to see me in that condition. You didn’t mention the champagne to them, did you?”
“No!” Emily cried. She’d run out of the house before she could say much of anything.
Chloe looked relieved. “Do you know if they saw the bottle in the kitchen trash? I took it out this morning, but I was so scared.”
Your dad was way too preoccupied to be hunting around for champagne bottles, Emily thought grimly. And she hadn’t seen Mrs. Roland downstairs at all. “I don’t think so.”
A mound of snow fell off the roof with a wet slap, and both girls turned. Chloe wandered farther into the bridge, and Emily followed her. “So why were you drinking yesterday?” she asked.
Chloe’s boots made loud clonks on the ground. She shrugged. “It’s hard to move to a different place, I guess. Hard to start over. And things feel so strange here—not quite right. The only really happy thing I’ve found is you.”
Emily blushed. “Thanks. And, you know, if you need someone to talk to about it, I’m here.”
“I’m here for you, too.” Chloe turned. “I didn’t black out what you told me last night—about the baby. We can help each other.”
They hugged, squeezing each other tight. When they broke apart, a comfortable silence fell over them. Cars swished by on the highway. More twigs cracked in the woods. For a split second, Emily was sure she saw a dark, humanlike shape darting between the trees, but when her vision adjusted, there was only darkness.
“So what were you going to tell me?” Chloe asked suddenly.
Emily stopped short. “When?”
“Just now, silly.” Chloe’s voice was playful.
Emily curled her numb toes in her boots. Once again, the pendulum swung in the opposite direction. There was no way she could tell Chloe about what her father did—not with the state she was in. The last thing she wanted was to upset her friend and send her into a downward spiral of destructive drinking. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. I guess I’m preoccupied today.”
“About swimming?”
Emily looked up questioningly, and Chloe smiled. “You have a big meet tomorrow, right? My dad mentioned that the recruiter’s going to be there.”
Just the mention of Mr. Roland made a nervous streak shoot through Emily’s gut. “Oh, yeah. Right.”
“You shouldn’t worry,” Chloe said. “You’re going to be great. And you’re going to get that scholarship. I can feel it.”
“Thanks.” Emily nudged her with her hip. “Why don’t you come, too? I’d love the moral support.”
Chloe’s face fell. “I have to babysit tomorrow.”
Then, a sharp bleating sound pierced the air. Chloe pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. “I’ve gotta go. My mom’s actually home in time to make dinner tonight.”
They both walked back to their cars. Chloe’s headlights flickered as she unlocked the doors. After turning on the engine, she leaned out the window and peered at Emily. “Wanna come over after your swim meet? I’d love to hear how it goes.”
“Definitely,” Emily said.
Chloe pulled out of the space. Emily remained there for a moment, her hands shoved deep in her pockets. Just as she was about to unlock her door, she noticed something tucked under her windshield wiper. Her boots slipped on the icy ground as she groped toward it and yanked it free.