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Emily clumsily struggled off the grass. “W-what are you doing here?”
Mrs. Fields grabbed Emily’s arm. “I cannot believe you. I get a call fifteen minutes ago saying you’re with her. And I don’t believe them! Silly me! I don’t believe them! I say they’re lying!”
“Mom, I can explain!”
Mrs. Fields paused and sniffed the air around Emily’s face. Her eyes widened. “You’ve been drinking!” she screamed, enraged. “What has happened to you, Emily?” She glanced down at Maya, who was sitting very still on the grass, as if Mrs. Fields had put her in suspended animation. “You’re not my daughter anymore.”
“Mom!” Emily screamed. It felt like her mother had thrust a curling iron into her eye. That statement sounded so…legal and binding. So final.
Mrs. Fields dragged her to the little gate that led from the courtyard to a back alley that led to the street. “I’m calling Helene when we get home.”
“No!” Emily broke free, then faced her mother halfway hunched over, the way a sumo wrestler squares off when he’s about to fight. “How can you say I’m not your daughter?” she screeched. “How can you send me away?”
Mrs. Fields reached for Emily’s arm again, but Emily’s sneakers caught on an uneven divot in the grass. She fell backward, hitting the ground on her tailbone, experiencing a white, blinding flash of pain.
When she opened her eyes, her mother was above her. “Get up. Let’s go.”
“No!” Emily bellowed. She tried to get up, but her mother’s nails pierced her arm. Emily struggled but knew it was hopeless. She glanced once more at Maya, who still hadn’t moved. Maya’s eyes were huge and watery, and she looked tiny and alone. I might never see her again, Emily thought. This might be it.
“What’s so wrong with it?” she screamed at her mother. “What’s so wrong with being different? How can you hate me for that?”
Her mother’s nostrils flared. She balled up her fists and opened her mouth, ready to scream something back. And then, suddenly, she seemed to deflate. She turned away and made a small noise at the back of her throat. All at once, she looked so spent. And scared. And ashamed. Without any makeup on and in her pajamas, she seemed vulnerable. There was a redness around her eyes, as if she had been crying for a long time. “Please. Let’s just go.”
Emily didn’t know what else to do but get up. She followed her mother down the dark, deserted alley and into a parking lot, where Emily saw their familiar Volvo. The parking lot attendant met her mother’s eyes and gave Emily a judging sneer, as if Mrs. Fields had explained why she was parking here and retrieving Emily from the party.
Emily threw herself in the front seat. Her eyes landed on the Dial-a-Horoscope laminated wheel that was in the car’s seat pocket. The wheel foretold every sign’s horoscopes for all the twelve months of this year, so Emily pulled it out, spun the wheel to Taurus, her sign, and looked at October’s predictions. Your love relationships will become more fulfilling and satisfying. Your relationships may have caused difficulties with others in the past, but all will be smooth sailing from now on.
Ha, Emily thought. She hurled the horoscope card out the window. She didn’t believe in horoscopes anymore. Or tarot cards. Or signs or signals or anything else that said things happened for a reason. What was the reason this was happening?
A chill went through her. I get a call fifteen minutes ago saying you’re with her.
She dug through her bag, her heart pounding. Her phone had one new message. It had been in her inbox for nearly two hours.
Em, I see you! And if you don’t stop it, I’m calling you-know-who.
—A
Emily put her hands over her eyes. Why didn’t A just kill her instead?
33
SOMEONE SLIPS UP. BIG TIME.
First, Lucas gave Hanna a shrunken Rosewood Day sweatshirt and a pair of red gym shorts from his car. “An Eagle Scout is always prepared for anything,” he proclaimed.
Second, he led Hanna to the Hollis College Reading Room so she could change. It was a few streets over from the planetarium. The reading room was simply that—a big room in a nineteenth-century house completely devoted to chilling out and reading. It smelled like pipe smoke and old leather bookbindings and was filled with all sorts of books, maps, globes, encyclopedias, magazines, newspapers, chessboards, leather couches, and cozy love seats for two. Technically, it was only open to college students and faculty, but it was easy enough to jimmy your way in the side door.
Hanna went into the tiny bathroom, removed her ripped dress, and threw it into the little chrome trash can, stuffing it in so it would fit. She slumped out of the bathroom, threw herself on the couch next to Lucas, and just…lost it. Sobs that had been pent up inside of her for weeks—maybe even years—exploded out of her. “No one will like me anymore,” she said chokingly, between sobs. “And I’ve lost Mona forever.”
Lucas rubbed her hair. “It’s all right. She doesn’t deserve you anyway.”
Hanna cried until her eyes swelled and her throat stung. Finally, she pressed her head into Lucas’s chest, which was more solid than it looked. They lay there in silence for a while. Lucas ran his fingers through her hair.
“What made you come to her party?” she asked after a while. “I thought you weren’t invited.”
“I was invited.” Lucas lowered his eyes. “But…I wasn’t going to go. I didn’t want you to feel bad, and I wanted to spend the night with you.”
