Claire De Lune by Christine Johnson

can’t keep an eye on you. Can you get your aunt to agree to some crazy-late curfew or something?”
    “Huh. That’s not bad, actually. I can’t say anything else today or they’ll know I’m just fishing to get out of it, but it might work.”
    Claire chewed on a ragged cuticle. “It’s worth a try, at least.”
    “Yeah. Okay. So here I am, being totally self-centered. What’s new with you, huh?”
    Claire stopped the laugh a millisecond before it hopped out of her mouth. “Um. Not, uh, not much.”
    Emily shook her head. “That is
so
not the truth, Claire. Don’t even try to lie to me.”
    Claire’s mouth went dry. She resisted the urge to pat her ears, to make sure Emily hadn’t seen anything that had made her suspicious. Did she know, or could she just tell that Claire was hiding something?
    “Um. I don’t—” Stalling for time, Claire lifted her mug and took another drink of coffee, even though her stomach twisted in protest.
    “Come on. Matthew. Engle. What’s going on with that, huh?” A smile played at the corner of Emily’s mouth.
    “Oh.
Oh.
” The adrenaline flooding her body left Claire’s fingertips tingling. Okay, Matthew she could talk about. God,hiding things from Emily was hard. They’d just come up with a solution for Emily’s problem. Claire could have used the same sort of help. A lot of help, actually. “Yeah, Matthew. It’s just—it’s really weird, you know? I didn’t really think we’d have much in common, but we had a great time the other night. He’s so easy to talk to.”
    “And? Are you seeing him again?” Emily didn’t look nearly as depressed now that they were talking about guys.
    “Probably. He wanted to get together today, but you and I had plans, so I put him off.”
    Horror flashed through Emily’s eyes. “Oh my God. Claire, you are totally, totally nuts. Why would you do that?”
    Claire shrugged. “I mean, I really like him, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to see him.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Claire realized that she’d maybe been a little too honest with Emily. She wasn’t used to censoring herself around her best friend.
    Emily looked at her, dumbfounded. “Why on earth would it not be a good idea? You’ve liked him forever
.
He obviously likes you. What’s the problem?”
    Claire took another sip of coffee. Maybe she could ask Emily about this, as long as she worded things very, very carefully.
    “Well”—she set the cup down on the counter—“I mean, I know he likes me now, but what if … what if he gets to know me, the
real
me … and he hates what he sees? That could ruineverything. And I mean, really, everything. Wouldn’t it be better just to stop things now, before anything gets screwed up?”
    “Claire, be serious. You’re already the real you. That’s why you hate flirting. It’s why you feel awkward at parties. You don’t know how to pretend to be someone you’re not. Trust me. If he likes you now, and he does, then you’re not going to come up with some huge new side of yourself that’s going to shock him into shunning you.”
    Claire rubbed a hand across her eyes. Emily had no idea how wrong she was, and there was no way to tell her the truth. “I’m not so sure about that, Em. But I appreciate the pep talk.”
    “You’ll feel a lot better when you see him again, you know. Why don’t you call him and tell him I bailed on you? See if he still wants to hang out.”
    Claire shook her head. “I’ll call him later, maybe. Right now, I kind of want to hang by the pool for a while. Interested?”
    Emily sighed. “Of course. If I’m really going to be exiled to the farm, I want as much time with you as I can get before I go. But I still think you’re nuts. And I have to be home for lunch, so I only have a little while.”
    “Great. Let’s get changed.”
    For the next couple of hours, Emily’s chatter and the glitter of the hot sun on the surface of the pool kept Claire mostly