Free Play Nice (Make the Play Book 3) by Amber Garza Page A

But I don’t want that to be today.
    It was bad enough going to the coffee shop on Saturday. Talia and Heather waltzed in there like they owned the place. Like they were better than everyone. Including me. It was sickening the way they behaved with no regard for how I was feeling. They knew I was standing right there in front of them. Even if they acted like they didn’t see me, I know they did. So much for friendship. I haven’t always been the nicest person, but Talia and I have been friends since we were kids. You’d think that would count for something.
    That it would matter.
    That she’d care about hurting my feelings.
    In all the years we’ve known each other, I’ve shared things with her. Not a lot. For the most part I like to keep things to myself. But I have shared some stuff, like how my dad spends most of his time away from the house, and mom spends all her time drinking. And she and I were friends when my grandpa died. She saw how tore up I was about losing him. That was the one time where I couldn’t mask how I felt. Sadness lingered over me like a storm cloud. There was no pretending.
    How can she toss me aside like trash after knowing all that?
    Rolling over, I groan, pressing my face into my pillow. On the wall directly in front of me is a corkboard covered in pictures and notes. I’ve already taken down the ones of Talia and that group, so there aren’t many left. Mostly selfies or pictures of my family. I really am lame.
    I’m about to flop back to the other side of my bed when my gaze catches on the edge of a picture hidden behind another one. Slowly, I throw off my covers and slide off the bed. I know what the picture is before yanking it down. Yet for some reason, I still study it.
    Emmy’s cheek is pressed to mine, a cheesy grin on her face. And, despite my best efforts, it causes the corners of my lips to curl upward as I stare down at it. My gaze darts from Emmy’s face to mine, and I’m surprised at how genuine and relaxed I appear in the picture. But I don’t know why I’m surprised. Emmy brought out that side of me. In the moments where I forgot my plan, where I let down my guard, our friendship was authentic and real. It was in those times where I felt comfortable. Still, I never allowed myself to get too close. I kept the lid on the real me and only shared the barest details of my life.
    However, Emmy wasn’t so closed off. She shared all sorts of stuff with me – how she felt neglected and disliked by her mom, how she felt inferior to her brother.
    The truth hits me like a ton of bricks, and I drop the picture. It flutters to the ground like a bird with clipped wings, landing face first in the carpet. What I’d done to Emmy was no different than what Talia did to me. I knew her secrets, her fears, her hurts, and that hadn’t stopped me from tossing her aside. It didn’t stop me from betraying and hurting her.
    Actually, what I did was worse than what Talia did, because I had it planned all along. Remembering how young and impressionable Talia was when we first became friends, I’m sure she didn’t have this planned from day one. In fact, I doubt Talia ever had this planned. Most likely, she snapped. That’s more like her. I’m the one who manipulates and plans. Talia reacts.
    I guess I should’ve seen this coming. Emmy softened me a little. Don’t get me wrong, I was still me, but not as hard edged. But when our friendship ended, it sharpened me back up. I didn’t realize how much I relied on my friendship with Emmy. It took losing her to show me that.
    The longer I hung out with Talia and that group, it became apparent how good I had it with Emmy. With Talia, everything was a game. With Emmy, it was never like that.
    The more exhausted I got with it, the more disgruntled I became. And I know I took that out on Talia. It made me ruder, bitchier, and more manipulative. In part because I wanted to prove to myself that I’d made the right choice. That power and popularity