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Emma blinked, needing him to be clear. “So…she didn’t stay with you?”
Thayer shook his head. “She left shortly after she dropped me off. She said she wanted to have a word with you. She was furious, like she wanted to kill you or something. I’ve never seen her like that before.”
Emma tried her hardest not to gasp. It was like the words had been scripted for Thayer, proving Laurel’s guilt. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
The words rushed through me, bringing a terrible emptiness. I hadn’t realized until that moment how desperately I’d wanted Laurel to be innocent. She was my little sister, the girl I grew up with, who I once considered my best friend. But Thayer’s words stripped me of my last shred of hope. She hadn’t been with him that night, and she hadn’t been with Nisha and the tennis team. I had to face it. Laurel, my sister, had murdered me—over a guy.
A cough sounded. Emma whirled around and saw a figure standing at the end of the trail. Laurel’s light eyes flashed in the darkness. “So that’s where you are,” she said, her voice no longer teasing, but instead flat and cold.
The hair on Emma’s arms stood on end. How much had Laurel heard? “W-we were just talking,” she stammered.
“Yeah,” Thayer said. His glance darted between Emma and Laurel. It was clear he wasn’t sure whose side to be on.
Laurel glared at both of them. Then she held up something in the air. Only when a flash went off did Emma realize it was a camera. After that, Laurel whipped around and marched back to the hot springs, her spine ramrod-straight. “Join me when you’re ready, Thayer,” she called.
Emma and Thayer stared after her, and my heart clenched at the tragic characters in front of me: the boy I loved, the twin I’d never met, and the sister who took both of them away from me.
12
TRACK MEET
The next morning in gym class, Emma and a group of girls walked the perimeter of the track instead of playing handball with the boys. Every girl walked fast enough to appease the gym instructor but slowly enough not to sweat so they wouldn’t mess up their makeup during school hours.
Emma tried to listen to the endless chatter about weekend plans, disappointment over how next week’s dance had been canceled, and talk about Thayer’s return to school, but she couldn’t concentrate. She’d barely slept last night, so aware that Laurel was just feet down the hall from her.
Only when she rounded the corner and noticed Garrett climbing into his car in the parking lot did her mind wander for a moment. What was good-boy Garrett doing leaving school property during second period? Even more bizarre, Nisha was getting into the passenger seat. But hadn’t Nisha said they weren’t hanging out anymore?
I knew Emma’s cease-fire with my sworn enemy was too good to be true.
The smell of sunscreen and perfume greeted Emma’s nose as a pack of sophomores hustled past. “Hey, Sutton!” Clara called from the middle of the group. The sleeves of her Hollier High tennis T-shirt were rolled up over her tanned shoulders.
“Hey,” Emma said absently, moving away from the fence. She didn’t want anyone to see her staring at Garrett and Nisha. All she needed was some gossipy underclassmen assuming that she wasn’t over Garrett and spreading the news around school.
Suddenly, Emma noticed Ethan sitting on the bleachers across the field and took off in an excited jog. “Hey, stranger,” she crooned into his ear, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Is someone cutting class? I thought you had English this period.”
Ethan whipped around. When Emma saw his cold expression, she drew back. “I’m kind of busy.”
“W-What’s wrong?” Emma stammered.
Ethan glanced away, his eyes roving over the track.
“Ethan?” Emma asked softly. But he just sat there, avoiding her gaze.
A cluster of students passed, glancing at Ethan and Emma out of the corners of their eyes. Emma instantly pasted a smile on her face, not wanting them to notice that she and Ethan were fighting.
Finally, Ethan took out his cell phone and turned it toward Emma with a sigh. She stared at a dark, fuzzy picture on the screen. After a moment, she realized it was her and Thayer, standing on the trail, talking. Her heart sank. They were both in their bathing suits. And their arms were almost touching.
Then she realized. Laurel had sent it to him. “Don’t you see,” she whispered. “She’s trying to break us up because she’s jealous.”
Or she’s trying to send you a message, I thought. She’s on to you. She heard what you and Thayer were talking about. Stop while you’re ahead.
Ethan let the phone fall to his side. “Did she Photoshop it? Because you guys look like you’re having a romantic tête-à-tête.”
“I was asking him about the night Sutton died,” Emma said. “You won’t believe what I found out.”
Suddenly, a metal hurdle clattered on the ground as the track coach tried to assemble them in an upright position. Emma swallowed hard. They were way too public right here. Anyone could hear them.
“Walk with me?” Emma asked in a small voice. For a moment, Ethan just sat there, like he wasn’t going to budge. When he finally slid off the bleacher, Emma let out a sigh of relief.
They began to circle the track, a pack of students sprinting past them. Only when they rounded the corner to a spot behind the field house did Emma yank him off the red asphalt and into the little room that housed the practice mats, javelin poles, and shot puts. When Emma shut the door, only a sliver of light poked through. It would have been romantic if Ethan weren’t standing with his arms crossed over his chest.
