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“She’s reading it,” hissed Lili.
Charlotte slapped her shoulder. “That’s what we want her to do, idiot.”
Celeste looked up and down the hall, then carefully folded the sheet of paper and slid it into a book. She shut her locker and started down the hall toward them.
“Quick!” Gabby shrieked.
The girls ran down the hall into the pottery studio for cover. A few moments later, Nisha’s iPhone vibrated. “She RSVP’d,” she announced, locking eyes with Emma and grinning. “Ladies, it’s time to raise the dead.”
If only she meant it literally, I thought. But a prank on a girl who deserved it was almost as good.
16
EVERY DAY SHOULD BE SENIOR SKIP DAY
The next day, before third period, Charlotte and Madeline swooped in on either side of Emma and steered her toward the door to the student parking lot. “Guys?” Emma asked as they passed her classroom. “I have English next. I have to turn in a paper on Jane Eyre.”
No matter how important it was for her to pretend to be Sutton, Emma hadn’t been able to give up her own study habits. She’d finished Jane Eyre for the second time and loved it, not that she could ever admit it to Sutton’s friends. She doubted Sutton would have gushed over angsty Victorian literature.
Um, no. I would have been more likely to browse the Wikipedia entry ten minutes before class and hope no one called on me. But good for my sister. It was nice to know that one of us was a brainiac.
Madeline snorted. “So turn it in at the end of school. Anyway, who wants to talk about some weird old book by a chick who obviously never got laid? I gave up after the first page. We totally deserve a mental health day. And we need new clothes for the party.”
Emma paused. In her old life back in Nevada, she wouldn’t have dreamed of skipping class. She’d always been a good student—she knew her only shot at going to college was to land a top-notch scholarship, so she’d worked hard. She’d also liked school—it was an escape from the more depressing living situations in which she found herself, a place she could slip anonymously into the crowd and disappear from the eyes of creepy foster siblings or eccentric guardians and just be a normal kid.
But a mental health day did sound like just what she needed right now. “Okay, I’m in,” she agreed, linking arms with Madeline and walking out into the sunshine.
The girls climbed into Charlotte’s Jeep Grand Cherokee and blasted a Kelly Clarkson song as they turned out into the street. Emma felt the weight on her shoulders lightening for the first time in days. This was better than sitting in class.
“So, I ordered dessert for the party from Hey, Cupcake!” Charlotte said as they drove past a comic book shop with a life-sized fiberglass Spider-Man attached to the outside wall. “Do you think seven dozen will be enough?”
“I love their red velvet,” Madeline said, her eyes fluttering back in her head in bliss. “Maybe you’d better request another dozen.”
“If I have to watch you eat a dozen cupcakes, I’m going to kill myself,” Charlotte complained, eyeing Madeline’s lithe dancer’s frame with envy.
“Are you bringing a date, Char?” Madeline asked, in what Emma suspected was an attempt to change the subject.
Charlotte applied NARS peach gloss in the rearview mirror at a stoplight. “John Hokosawa,” she said. “I wasn’t going to bother, but we were talking after Calc yesterday, and he’s looking amazing.”
“Oh my God, I love his new haircut,” Madeline agreed. “He looks like he should be racing motorcycles.” They both giggled.
“Wait, rewind,” Emma said, cocking her head at Charlotte. “What did you mean, you weren’t going to bother with a date?” As far as she knew, the Lying Game girls didn’t go stag to anything.
Charlotte shrugged. “There’s no one to date anymore.”
“Ugh, tell me about it.” Madeline leaned back against her seat, sticking her lip out in a pout. “I’m so tired of high school boys. I keep looking around the halls and thinking, this is it? They’re all such children.”
“So are you going alone?” Emma asked.
Madeline looked at her like she was crazy. “Of course not. I’m taking Jake Wood. I’m not going to go without for the next six months just because there are college guys on the horizon.”
Emma had never heard Madeline or Charlotte talk about college, but she probably shouldn’t have been shocked. College was on the horizon—at least for them. Everyone seemed to be looking ahead, ready to move forward with their lives, while she was stuck in someone else’s. What would happen if she couldn’t solve this case before college applications were due? Would she submit them as Sutton, or would she be stuck here in limbo, chasing dead leads and spinning her wheels?
I wondered, too. What if she got sick of wondering who’d killed me? What if she figured out a way to abandon my life without getting hurt? Then what would happen to me?
They pulled into the La Encantada parking lot. Young mothers in Lululemon yoga pants and diamond earrings pushed strollers through the sunny arcades. A group of senior citizens power walked past the girls, swinging their arms cheerfully. Upbeat jazz filtered through the PA speakers, and the smell of bread and frying things wafted through the air from AJ’s Market. As they walked toward the main shopping area, Emma’s phone chimed. ANY MORE THOUGHTS ABOUT BECKY? Ethan wrote.
NOT REALLY, Emma responded.
MAYBE WE SHOULD RESEARCH WHAT HER CONDITION IS, EXACTLY, Ethan suggested. IF IT’S SOMETHING HARMLESS, THEN WE CAN RULE HER OUT.
