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“This way,” she said urgently, pushing Isaac roughly up the front walk. Then she saw Eric Kahn standing on the porch. If Eric was there, Noel was undoubtedly close by.
“Er, wait.” She pulled Isaac into a shadowy spot next to a large, snow-laden shrub and pretended like she was searching through her silver clutch. The wind shook the branches on the big evergreen next to them. Emily suddenly wondered if what she was doing was nuts. Here she was, standing in the dark, when a crazy murderer was on the lam.
Isaac laughed uncomfortably. “Is anything wrong? Are you hiding from someone?”
“Of course not,” Emily lied. Eric Kahn finally went back inside. Emily straightened and started up the path again. She took a deep breath and opened the front door. Bright light accosted them from inside. Here goes.
A string quartet was set up in the corner, playing a dainty minuet. Women in silk and sequined party dresses laughed with men in sleek, dark suits. A waitress glided by Emily and Isaac, carrying a large tray of full glasses of champagne. Isaac plucked two glasses off the tray and handed one to her. Emily took a sip, trying not to gulp.
“Emily.” Spencer stood in front of her, wearing a short black dress with feather detail around the hem and incredibly high sling-backs. Her eyes fell to Isaac’s hand, which was curled around Emily’s. A wrinkle formed over her brow.
“Uh, Isaac, this is Spencer. Her parents are throwing this,” Emily explained quickly, slowly unwinding her hand from Isaac’s. “Spencer, this is Isaac.” She wanted to add, my boyfriend, but there were way too many people around.
“Rick Colbert, the caterer tonight, is my dad,” Isaac explained, holding his hand out for Spencer to shake. “Have you met him?”
“I didn’t handle any of the arrangements,” Spencer said sourly. She turned back to Emily. “So did Wilden tell you the rules? We’re not allowed to go outside. If someone needs to go to their car, tell Wilden and he’ll go for you. And then when you’re ready to leave, he’ll escort you.”
“Wow.” Isaac rubbed his hair. “You guys are really taking this seriously.”
“It is serious,” Spencer snapped.
When she started to turn away, Emily grabbed her arm. She wanted to ask Spencer if she’d told Wilden about Ian’s visit, like she promised she would. But Spencer shrugged her off. “I can’t talk right now,” she said abruptly, and disappeared into the crowd.
Isaac rocked on his heels. “Well, she’s friendly.” He looked around the room, at the priceless Oriental rug in the enormous foyer, the stonework on the wall, and the portraits of old Hastings ancestors all over the gallery. “So this is how kids from your school live, huh?”
“Not all of us,” Emily corrected him.
Isaac walked over to a console table and ran his hands over an ornate Sèvres tea set. Emily wanted to steer him away from it—Spencer always told Emily and the others that it had once belonged to Napoleon—but she also didn’t want Isaac to think she was scolding him. “I bet you live somewhere even bigger than this,” Isaac teased. “Like a nineteen-bedroom compound with an indoor lap pool.”
“Wrong.” Emily punched him lightly. “There are two indoor lap pools—one for me, and one for my sister. I don’t like sharing.”
“So when am I going to see this magnificent house of yours?” Isaac took Emily’s hands and swung them back and forth. “I let you into my house, after all. With my mom. Sorry about that, by the way.”
“Please.” When Emily had picked up Isaac at his house tonight, his mother had fawned over them, taking pictures and offering Emily homemade cookies. Mrs. Colbert reminded Emily of her own mom. They both collected Hummel figurines and wore the same pale blue Crocs. They could probably be BFFs. “I thought she was sweet,” Emily said. “Just like you.”
Isaac blushed and pulled her close. Emily giggled, thrilled to be pressed up against him in his fancy suit, even if he had borrowed it from his dad. He smelled like sandalwood and cinnamon gum, and she had the sudden urge to kiss him in front of everyone.
Then she heard a snicker behind them. Noel Kahn and James Freed loitered in the arched doorway to the living room. Both wore expensive black suits, and their red-and-blue striped Rosewood Day ties were knotted loosely around their necks.
“Emily Fields!” James crowed. His eyes swept up and down Isaac, a perplexed look settling over his face. He’d probably first thought Isaac was a butch girl in a tux.
“Hi, Emily,” Noel said in his lazy, half-surfer, half-richboy voice, his eyes on Isaac too. “I see you brought a friend. Or is it a date?”
Emily took a small step backward. Noel and James licked their lips like predatory wolves. Both were no doubt flipping through their list of snarky things they could say next—Slumming it with the boys tonight? Watch it, dude, Emily Fields is kinky! She might drag you to some lesbian strip club! The longer they remained quiet, the more horrifying whatever they said was sure to be.
“I have to…,” Emily sputtered. She whirled around, nearly bumping into Principal Appleton and Mrs. Hastings, who were both sipping cocktails. She blindly stumbled through the foyer, wanting to be as far away from Noel and James as she could.
“Emily?” Isaac called behind her. She kept running. The heavy library doors were just ahead. Emily wrenched the door open fast and ducked inside, breathing hard.
It was warm inside the library, and smelled like a mix of old books and expensive leather shoes. Emily’s eyes blurred, then readjusted. Her stomach lurched in horror. The room was packed full of kids from Rosewood Day. Naomi Zeigler’s long legs dangled over an arm of one of the leather chairs, and Hanna’s stepsister-to-be, Kate, perched queenlike on the chaise. Mason Byers and some of the other lacrosse boys were loitering near a bookcase, no doubt ogling Spencer’s dad’s books of obscure French photography, which consisted largely of soft- p**n shots of naked women. Mike Montgomery and a pretty brunette were sharing a glass of wine, and Jenny Kestler and Kirsten Cullen were nibbling on crusty bread and cheese.
