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silently on Mr. Phillips, digesting information. I was quiet, as well, but not because I was interested in Mr. Phillips’s military experiences. Emery had hurt my feelings. Why hadn’t he told me his dad was a Navy SEAL? This was sort of a big deal and the type of information friends share with friends, especially close friends.
    “Dude, why didn’t you tell us about your dad?” Bobby said, verbalizing the question that had been bothering me. “All I can say is, like father, like son—right down to the tat.”
    “Tat?” I jerked forward, shooting Bobby an inquiring look. He wore an oops expression.
    My brother palmed his forehead.
    “What are you talking about?” I demanded. “Emery doesn’t have a tattoo.”
    Nate let out a low whistle.
    “Uh . . . maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.” Bobby glanced sheepishly at Serena.
    Her lips flattened in a thin line of disapproval, confirming that Emery did, indeed, have a tattoo. This knowledge ignited an array of emotions in me. Why hadn’t Emery told me?
    Mr. Phillips patted his son’s shoulder good-naturedly. “We’ll call it Emery’s night of stupidity.”
    “I want to see!” Miriam squealed, clapping her hands.
    “Where is it?” I blurted. How could Emery not tell me when he knows everything about me? Even Bobby Neigh knows.
    Peripherally, I caught Dad’s smile. Obviously, my ignorance of the tattoo’s location on Emery’s physique pleased him immensely.
    “Oh, dude,” laughed Nate, shaking his head.
    “Well? Show us!” I demanded.
    “Cass,” Dad lightly chided.
    Even Bren advised in a whisper, “Chill, Cass.”
    “Whatever,” I snapped, glaring at Mr. Cool-Calm-Collected-and-Totally-Unremorseful. Why would he hide this from me?
    “I want to see it, too,” Chazz said, oblivious to the tension I had caused.
    “I’ll show you later,” Emery promised, smiling. To everyone else, he said, “Now if we could get back to the SEALs before my mom decides to ground me again.”
    I snorted, arms crossed. As if Emery had ever been grounded in his entire life.
    At least, I didn’t think so.
    “So, Mr. Phillips,” Bobby said, honoring Emery’s request Bobby-style, with foot inserted in mouth, “how many people have you killed?”
     
    ~~~
     
    Eventually the feverish SEALs Q&A ran its course, and Mom brought out a beautiful birthday cake. She lit candles, and everyone broke out into a jubilant round of “Happy Birthday.”
    I was having a difficult time shaking Emery’s nondisclosure about the tattoo. To him, not sharing that he had a tattoo might have seemed like no big deal and none of my business—which it wouldn’t be, if I was just the girl who lived across the street, but this wasn’t the case. I wondered if I should trust him as implicitly as I had, and I didn’t like having doubts about the person I had entrusted my life to.
    We moved to the living room to open presents and had just settled in when Mr. Phillips’s cell phone rang. He excused himself and left the room.
    “I’m in charge of presents,” Chazz announced, shoving Carli’s gift at me.
    Nate and I switched off opening the gifts Chazz handed us. Feigning joy and gushing thank-yous, I forgot what I had unwrapped as soon as my moment was done. I was too unsettled to pay close attention.
    “Here, Cassidy.” Chazz placed a pretty little package in my hand, wrapped in silver paper. It was from the Phillipses.
    With a pasted-on smile, I unwrapped the gift: a stainless-steel charm bracelet.
    “It’s beautiful!” I exclaimed with genuine pleasure and looked up at Serena in the wingback chair. Mr. Phillips sat on the floor in front of her with his arm slung over her knees. I hadn’t noticed he’d returned. “Thank you so much,” I said to her and Mr. Phillips, not looking at Emery.
    “You’re welcome, my dear,” said Serena, while her finger played absently with her husband’s hair. “I thought we could add a new charm each year.”
    “How wonderful, Serena,”