Broken Rules(32)

And now Malcolm wants to take me. I know I should say no; it’s too much like a date. I would have a complete meltdown if Emmett and Vivian went to Ritzville together, even if it was as innocent as me spending time with Malcolm. But as the memory of seeing them in the hall together replays in my mind, I suddenly want nothing more than to go with him. I need the distraction, and Emmett needs a reminder of how jealousy feels.

“Okay.” I nod with a smile. “Let’s go.”





When I was little, sometimes a carnival or fair would set up at the mall near where we lived in Oklahoma. We would drive past it and I would see all of the lights whirling around with screaming, laughing children. The smells of fried foods and cotton candy would waft through the air, luring me in. I would see little girls walking hand in hand with their dads and wish that I knew who my father was. By the time Brendan came around, I’d decided I was too cool for the carnival and wouldn’t let him take me. He wasn’t who I wanted to go with, anyway. Not then. It feels ironic now that once again, I can’t come here with the person I want to the most. Only this time, I guess I’m desperate enough to go with whoever is willing.

I eye the giant spinning Ferris wheel as we pass, drifting back to all of my fantasies about it and wishing it was Emmett walking beside me right now.

“Do you wanna go on that thing?” Malcolm asks as he studies my face.

“No, that’s okay,” I lie. I do want to go. But going with him feels like too much of a betrayal somehow.

We pass twirling teacup rides and airplanes whooshing screaming kids around the air in a loop. The carnival workers heckle us as we walk past, daring for us to come shoot a water pistol at a target or throw darts at balloons. If this were a movie, I imagine Malcolm would play one of the games and win me a ridiculous, oversized teddy bear. And he probably would in real life if I asked him. He seems eager to cheer me up.

Malcolm tries everything to get me to let go and have a good time, but I turn everything down. I can’t seem to pick myself up enough to be in the mood for anything. I finally agree to play that game where you throw a ping pong ball into fishbowls and win a goldfish if you land one in. I throw the balls listlessly. And of course, because I don’t care, one of my balls swirls around the top of the bowl and plops right down into the surface of the water above the unsuspecting fish.

“Shit,” I murmur.

“Hey!” Malcolm exclaims proudly. “Look at that!”

“One goldfish for the lady!” the worker announces. “Coming right up!”

“No!” I belt back. “No goldfish for me!” I turn back to Malcolm. “Come on, let’s go.” I tug his arm and rush him away before they can stick me with the fish.

“Wow,” he chuckles. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone run so fast from a fish.”

“Everything’s a mess,” I groan. “I can’t deal with a fish right now. I can barely keep up with the rest of my life. The last thing I need is a life depending on me to take care of it.”

“It’s just a fish,” he reminds me with a smirk. “A goldfish at that…They live like thirty days and die. It’s not a human baby.”

I shrug. “A life is a life.”

“I don’t know.” He looks away, taking in the passing sights of the carnival. “I don’t know if all lives are equal. The Elites sure don’t seem to think so, anyway.”

“Well, let’s not stoop to their level,” I conclude.

As the night goes on, all I can think is that I want to tell Emmett everything, even though he’d be furious that I was here with Malcolm. If he could get over that, he’d think it was hilarious that I ‘ran from a fish,’ as Malcolm put it.

The smell of funnel cakes, hot dogs, slushies, and nachos pulls me in as we walk through the row of food vendors.

“Do you want something to eat?” He looks at me with an impish smile, knowing I’ve turned down everything he’s asked since we got here.

“Food.” I nod with a smile. “That I can get behind. I’m starving.”

He looks ecstatic to have finally found something I’ll agree to. I feel bad for him as he orders us some trays of food. He’s been trying so hard to be a nice guy, and I’ve been weird every step of the way.

“Sorry I’m such shitty company,” I offer as he returns with our grub and we settle onto a metal table lined with red rubber, and a red-and-white striped umbrella overhead. “Things have been pretty crazy lately. Or, really…I guess ever since I moved here.”

“It has to be pretty crazy to go from being Emmett’s target to being his girlfriend,” he states frankly.

“You must think I’m a fucking idiot.” I hide my face in my hands, feeling certain that he’s judging me. Hell, I’m judging me.

“No, not at all!” he assures me. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“It’s more than that…” I offer lightly, unsure if I should open up about everything that’s going on or not. “Have you noticed that Bernadette is gone?”

“Of course.” He nods through a big bite of a burger. “I just figured she was upset about everything with her dad. That, and avoiding school now that she doesn’t have the old Elite gang to back her up.”

“Actually…Emmett and her mom don’t know where she is,” I reveal, feeling terrible for saying it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you that. He really wants to keep it a secret.”

“Why keep it a secret?” Malcolm asks.

Relief washes over me. Something about hearing another person point out how odd it is to keep this under wraps makes me feel saner and less guilty about questioning Emmett. But I still can’t escape the nagging feeling that I should be defending him.

“He says he has too many enemies around here and doesn’t know who to trust,” I explain, swirling a fry in some ketchup. “He’s worried the cops are loyal to his father and are working against him. But we haven’t had much luck figuring anything out on our own, and it’s just been…stressful. I guess that’s what seems to be driving him straight into Vivian’s arms.”

“That is a lot to put on you.” He nods, studying my face for any sign of resentment.

“I said I would help…so I am. The best I can. But I’m feeling pretty useless at the moment. I think I’m just making things worse.” I slump down across the table, releasing a groan of exhaustion. “Sorry to be telling you all of this. Just promise you won’t tell anyone else. Whether it makes sense to me or not, Emmett wants to keep it a secret and I want to respect his wishes.”

“Of course,” he replies reassuringly. “I won’t say a word to anyone.”

We’re silent for a moment as we eat our assortment of fried foods. As much as I love my mom’s cooking, this is exactly the kind of guilty pleasure I’ve been needing without even realizing it.

“Hey, I think I might know a way to help,” Malcolm says after a while.

“With Bernadette?” I perk up, hoping he can. If we can get that mess squared away, Emmett won’t be under so much stress and will hopefully stop finding excuses to run to Vivian. Maybe we can finally have some semblance of a normal relationship.

“Yeah, have you tried hacking her phone? Tracking her through it or anything like that?” he says with a tinge of excitement in his voice. I’d forgotten he was a software guy. This kind of thing is right up his alley.

“Neither of us have any kind of clue how to do that.” I laugh. “I didn’t even know that was an option.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says confidently. “As soon as we’re done eating, I can take you back to my place. I have enough equipment there to pull it off, I think.”

“Can we do that without having her phone?” I ask. “Emmett never found it.”

“I can do it with just her phone number,” he replies with a twinkle in his eye.

“That would be amazing!” I beam, jumping forward to give him a big hug. I ignore the lingering look in his eyes afterwards. “You would do something like that?” My eyebrows raise. “I know you don’t like Emmett very much. And I shouldn’t be pulling you into all of this.”

“That’s the difference between me and the Elites,” he explains. “They may let their personal grievances get in the way of who they help and who they don’t. But at the end of the day, a person is missing and could be in danger. If I have some assistance to offer, I will.”

I smile at him and look away with flushed cheeks. This is the kind of thing that makes Malcolm so attractive, and I don’t know why I can’t make myself fall for him.

“It seems you’re a better guy than me,” I admit regretfully. “Sometimes I feel like the only reason why I want to find Bernadette is so I will have Emmett back all to myself.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” he offers, lightly placing his hand over mine across the table. “She’s not exactly…a pleasant person.”

I think back to when my father shot Thomas Jameson. The sounds of Bernadette’s screams. She was mortified and devastated. Emmett was the one standing there with a calm, cool stare. But his determination to find his sister is somewhat redeeming. He can be loyal to his family. And protective. Just not towards his father.