I knelt down, reached under the bed and pulled the heavy cinderblock out from under it. Thankfully the plush carpeting in my bedroom made it easy to pull the block out without making too much noise. Of course, there was an odd, unexplained track of thinning carpet to give away my secret, but so far no one had noticed it. It helped that I left my school backpack over the mark whenever I was home. And when I wasn't home, my bedroom door was closed. Michelle was strict about me keeping my room clean, but she was also cool about respecting my privacy. At least that was what she told me.

I didn't always have to pull the block out. But tonight the house was full, and the deep voice, a sound that felt like an icy hand on my chest, thrummed through the hallway. It was my signal to pull out the cinderblock and slide it into place in front of the door. The idea had come to me when Dad was building a garden wall for Michelle. She badly wanted a place to plant flowers, and my dad, who would shoot up and lasso the moon for her if she asked, had immediately set off to the home supply store to buy cinderblocks. They were so heavy a large truck had to deliver them to the house. I'd spent several days in the hot sun helping lug the thirty pound blocks from the pallets on the front driveway to the far corner of the garden, the corner Michelle had deemed to be the sunniest and best location for her flower garden. My fingers were nearly numb from carrying the awkward shaped blocks, and on one journey across the yard, I'd had to stop and rest. I put the block down right next to the back door. In an attempt to look too busy in the house to help with the wall, Emily and Michelle had not walked out to the backyard all morning. But Murphy's Law had required at least one of them to open the back door at the precise second I lowered the block down. The door cracked against it, breaking off the thin strip of metal and rubber that acted as weather stripping for the back door. And as sharply as Michelle had opened the door, the block didn't budge. The door broke but the block stood its ground. Later that night, when Michelle and Dad had gone out for dinner, I carried one of the spare blocks into my room and hid it under my bed. It was a simple plan for a monstrous problem. But it worked.

I could still hear the television set on in the front room. Dad and Dylan were still up watching a movie, but Michelle had gone to bed. I climbed onto the bed with my book and my phone. Lilly, my current best friend, had been beside herself because she caught Rudy, the boy she thought she was going steady with, kissing another girl at the park. I'd been consoling her all evening with texts and smiley emojis, and it seemed she'd finally either cried herself to sleep or kissed and made up with Rudy. I placed the phone on the nightstand and was deep in a chapter of my book when the door smacked against the cinderblock.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I sat up so suddenly the book popped out of my hands and onto the floor. My throat went dry as I stared at the small crack between the door and the block.

Thin fingers reached around the edge of the door. "Becca, what the heck? Why won't the door open?"

"Oops, sorry, just a second, Em." I hopped off the bed and reached the cinderblock. There was no way to hide that I had a cinderblock sitting on my floor. Emily would push open the door long before I could get the heavy block back under my bed.

Fortunately, she was excited about her night out and didn't mention the block as she slipped inside. She took a quick glance at it and jumped right into her conversation. "Well, the band's first party gig was a hit." She walked in, turned around and plopped onto my bed. "Josh and the guys were so nervous at first. It was funny and cute to watch. Then there was a little technical problem with the sound system, and they were getting all mad at each other, which was less cute but still kind of funny."

"So everyone liked the band?"

"Uh huh, right up until the time when the police came and said they had to turn off the speakers because they were too loud." She plucked up my favorite stuffed animal, Piggie, from the foot of my bed and absently stroked his ears while she talked. "Oh my gosh, the girls were all standing around watching the band with starry eyes like they were groupies. Ugh, that awful twit, Nadine, kept standing right below where Joshua was standing on the makeshift stage. I swear she kept stretching her tank top down so he could see her boobs. I think I was getting the evil eye from a few of the other girls because they knew I was with Josh. It was all so annoying." She tossed Piggie aside.

"Annoying but you loved it."

She shrugged. "It's kind of fun, I admit." She clapped her hands once. "Which brings me to the real reason for barging in here tonight." Her eyes sparkled with some new idea. It was one of the things I loved best about Emily. She loved coming up with new plans and ideas. "We should have the Domino Dogs play at your sweet sixteen party. We could set up a little stage out back and rent some tables and . . ."

"Sweet sixteen? Em, I was thinking of it just being the family and Joshua, of course. And I wouldn't say no to him playing his guitar, but I don't want to invite all my friends. We're going to probably hang out during the day, like at the beach or something, but I just wanted it to be us for dinner." I hated to deflate one of her ideas, and she really looked disappointed. And a little stunned.

"But you have to have a sweet sixteen. Everyone does it. Remember mine?"

I cleared my throat. "Uh, barely because you thought a fourteen-year-old shouldn't hang around too long at a sweet sixteen."

Emily laughed. "I remember. What a spoiled princess I was," she said as if it was years ago. "I sure hope I can handle myself better when I'm a bride. Joshua would hate it if I turned into one of those Godzilla brides."

Her comment was meant to be humorous, but I had a hard time even forcing a smile. Hearing her talk about marrying Joshua made me sad. It shouldn't have. If Emily married Joshua, it meant he'd always be in my life. But the thought of it still made me depressed. If only because I knew I'd never find anyone as awesome as Joshua, and I'd be comparing my boyfriends to him for the rest of my life.

Emily reached forward and grabbed my hands. "I'll let you go to bed. I just wanted to tell you my idea. You still have a few months until your birthday. Maybe you'll change your mind. I'm sure, even with late notice, we can still get the Domino Dogs to perform. I've got a special in with the band." She laughed as she hopped off the bed.

She crossed the room and opened the door but then stopped to stare down at the cinderblock. I knew a question was coming.

A dozen silly excuses went through my head, but the one that kept popping to the top was the truthful one. The one that wasn't at all silly, but the one that was so difficult to say, it was almost impossible to think about.

"Why on earth to do you have one of the garden wall bricks in your room?"

Many times I had wanted to tell Emily what I'd kept so tightly bound in my chest, but I'd never had the courage. I didn't want to mess things up. I had a family, a sister, a stepmom. My dad had a wife he was nuts about, and I'd never seen him happier.

I got up from the bed, and the tingling sensations that sometimes made my limbs feel like heavy rubber started before I could take my first step. I wasn't sure what prompted me, but it might have been those same tingling sensations acting as a catalyst for me to talk.

"Actually, Emily, there is something I've kind of wanted to talk to you about." I couldn't keep the shakiness out of my voice. She didn't turn back to look at me, but she glanced down at the dent the brick had left on the edge of the door. Then she looked down the hallway at the other bedroom doors.

"Uh, I'm kind of tired, Becca." The earlier enthusiastic tone of her voice had deflated, and her voice was nearly as shaky as mine. She couldn't even turn to look at me when she spoke. "Maybe tomorrow, ok?" With that, she hurried out almost as fast as she had raced in.

The tingling grew stronger, and I had to consciously remember to breathe. I hurried to push the block in front of the door. With the door secure, I stumbled back to my bed, grabbed Piggie to me and dove under the covers.