Page 331 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“I won’t.”

I can’t look at her anymore.

My tummy hurts so bad.

“Look at me, honey.” I take in a deep breath, and I feel like such a wuss when I hiccup a sob, but I look at her. “This is what she told you? You aren’t making this up?”

“No.” I can barely get the word out.

“You did the right thing by telling me. Did you tell anyone else about this?”

I shake my head. “No. I promised her, and . . . I promised her.”

“Oh, sweet boy,” she says in a soft voice that makes me think she isn’t mad at me for telling on my friend as she stands and gives me a big hug. It takes everything I have not to hold on tighter and cry like Emmy does when she scrapes her knee—super hard so she can barely talk—but I don’t do it. Instead, I concentrate on trying to make my arms fit all the way around Mrs. Gellar even though her tummy is too big and my fingers won’t touch. She leans back and looks at me. There are tears in her eyes, too, and that makes me worry. “You did the right thing, Grant. I know you’re worried Emmy is going to be mad . . . and she might be for a while, but you did the right thing.”

“Wh-what are you going to do?” Now that I’ve told her, I’m not sure what is going to happen next. How is she going to help Emmy without letting Emmy know I told her secret?

“I’m going to make sure she’s never hurt again.”

“She’s hurt?” I know guns are bad, but I’m confused. How is she hurt? She looks fine to me other than having cried earlier.

“Grant, I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to go out on the playground for a few minutes and get some fresh air. I don’t want you to tell anyone else about what you said to me because it’s important that Emmy has you as a friend. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Are you sure?” How is she going to do that?

“I’m sure. Now, I need you to go out so I can do a few things in privacy, okay?”

I nod and then drag my feet all the way to the door. I swear I hear her sniffle, but her back is to me, so I can’t be sure. Why would she sniffle? Just as I push it open, I hear Mrs. Gellar on the phone. “Principal Newman? I have a situation that needs immediate attention.”

We forget the memories and just chase the moments.

Those damn words replay in my head over and over. All day. Before I close my eyes at night. When I’m staring out the window at the airfield, waiting for the next class of jumpers to get ready. Even while sitting here in a bar with Desi where I came to try to prove to myself that I don’t care in the least why he hasn’t called or texted me in over five days.

I glance at my phone again sitting on the table next to everyone’s empty glasses and then hate myself for giving in to the temptation to look.

This is why I have rules. They are designed so I don’t end up sitting here like some needy, whiny chick, which is exactly how I feel.

Maybe he’s studying for his test like he should be. You know, he’s doing important things. It explains the silence, since I made certain he knew not to count me as one of those important things.

Maybe I scared him off with my rules and shutting him out the other day.

Maybe I . . . shit, I don’t know. It’s me, so I’m sure I’m the one at fault.

“Earth to Emerson.”

“What?” I snap at Desi, misdirecting my frustration at how I’m acting over Grant at her.

“Thanks for coming, but uh, maybe you can act like you’re actually having fun instead of looking like I forced you to come,” she says.

“You did force me to come.” I groan as I stare at the dance floor, which is full of grinding bodies and alcohol sloshing over cups.

“Oh, quit being such an old lady. Live a little. Dance a lot. Drink something new. Pick a guy just for the night. Whatever floats your boat.”

I glare at her for what feels like the tenth time in the past hour, but it holds no weight because she’s Desi. I let her get away with everything. Case in point, I’m here when I want to be anywhere but.

“What, no guy for the night?” She gives me a double take. “Hottie at two o’clock has had your number since you showed up. He’s just waiting for eye contact to make his move.”

“Whatever. No he has not—”