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Then again, Emma wasn’t sure she would feel guilty about this prank. Maybe Celeste deserved it.
I was thinking the same thing.
“So what should we do?” asked Laurel. “Write some love letters from ‘Garrett’ and send her on an embarrassing fake date? Like, with a mime or a clown or something?”
“We’ve done stuff like that already.” Charlotte shook her head. “We need something special for this girl.”
They all fell silent, brainstorming. A low, cool voice came from behind Emma. “Hold a séance.”
They all turned at once to see Nisha, who hadn’t even looked up from the clay cat she was painting. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail that spilled down over one shoulder. As she carefully lined whiskers onto the cat’s face, she continued. “Fake a bunch of ghosts. You know she believes in all that crap. She’ll totally fall for it.”
The girls exchanged a glance. Emma could tell they were impressed. Finally, Madeline spoke up, an indignant huff in her voice. “We don’t accept suggestions from people outside the Lying Game.”
Nisha shrugged. “You don’t usually have such good ideas.”
“Have you forgotten about the locker room murder?” Madeline shot back, referring to a prank they’d played on Nisha several months earlier, creating a mock crime scene at Nisha’s locker. “You were ready to pee your pants.”
Nisha opened her mouth to argue, but Emma jumped in before she could. “Nisha’s right,” she said. “A fake séance would be an amazing trick.” It also seemed more harmless than some of the other Lying Game ideas, which had included things like nearly choking Sutton into unconsciousness or parking Sutton’s Volvo on the train tracks.
Emma looked around at the others. “C’mon, guys, this idea rocks. And Nisha, since you thought of it, do you want to help?”
Madeline, Charlotte, and Laurel whipped their heads around to stare at her. “Are you crazy?” hissed Madeline, leaning close. “She’s not an official member.”
“Gabby and Lili will be so pissed,” Charlotte added. “It took them years to get in.”
“Since when do we make decisions based on what Gabby and Lili think?” Emma asked.
Madeline crossed her arms over her chest. “I wanted Samantha Weir to join two years ago and you were a mega-bitch about it then, Sutton. I don’t see what’s changed.”
“Nisha’s way cooler than Samantha Weir,” Emma argued, channeling her inner Sutton. “But if you have a better idea, we won’t use Nisha’s and we won’t let her in on it. Anyone?”
They looked back and forth at one another. No one said anything. Finally, Madeline blew out a loud breath. “Okay. But this is a one-time-only deal. We don’t need any associate members.”
“Nisha?” Emma asked.
The other girl gave them a long, appraising look over the clay cat. Then she grinned. “Why not,” she said. “Count me in. I’ve always wanted to see a Lying Game prank from the other side.”
Across the room, Celeste painted astrological symbols around the rim of her bowl. An electric jolt charged down Emma’s spine as the new girl looked up and met her eyes. A slow, languid smile spread across her face—as if she had just caught Emma in a lie and couldn’t wait for the chance to expose her.
Or, I thought with a shudder, as if she’d just seen me, floating behind my twin.
15
HOPES AND SCHEMES
On Monday morning, Emma, Laurel, Madeline, Charlotte, and the Twitter Twins were perched on the low stone wall in the courtyard, enjoying the sun before the first bell rang. Emma felt a bit more rested after the weekend. She’d tried to regroup, spending a lot of time watching reality TV with Laurel on the couch and going on a bike ride with Ethan. Mr. Mercer hadn’t brought up the subject of Becky once, and she hadn’t asked.
Swarms of students moved through the quad on their way to lockers or classrooms, many of them casting the girls surreptitious looks and trying not to look too desperate. Word had gotten out that Charlotte was having a party on Saturday, and everyone wanted an invite.
“I can’t wait for your party, Char,” Laurel said, ripping the cover off a Chobani yogurt container.
“It’s going to be amazing,” Charlotte agreed. “I’ve got Poor Tony playing at ten.” She leaned back and took a sip of her iced latte, seemingly oblivious to the horde of would-be attendees.
“The DJ from Plush?” Madeline looked impressed. “How’d you swing that?”
“Money talks, girl.” Charlotte’s eyes glinted behind her aviator shades. “Mom and Dad left me an envelope of cash for the weekend, to buy food or whatever. They must be feeling guilty for something, because they went pretty overboard this time.”
A girl with blue streaks in her hair and a flowered romper suddenly appeared next to the wall. “Hey, Charlotte. I made all these blueberry scones for the drama club bake sale, but I ended up with way too many.” She gave a flustered little laugh, her round cheeks flushing. “Do you guys want some? They’re really good.”
Lili’s hand snaked out toward the plate of treats, but Charlotte swatted it back. “Thanks, but we already had breakfast.” Charlotte gestured toward the Starbucks cups and empty yogurt containers scattered around them.
The girl’s face fell. “Oh. Right.” She scampered away, cheeks blazing.
Madeline snorted in her wake. “Trying too hard, much?”
“The scones, or that outfit?” Charlotte asked.
