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Charlotte’s face didn’t budge from its cool, aloof mask. She watched three elderly women on the lower level as though they were the most fascinating people in the world.
“Seriously,” Emma persisted. “You’ve got an awesome body. I’d give anything to be able to fill out a V-neck the way you can.”
Charlotte’s face whipped toward Emma, her lips curling angrily. “Spare me, Sutton. If my body was so great, that stupid prank with my tags wouldn’t have worked.”
“Tags?” Emma blinked.
“Last year, when you guys spent a whole month switching tags on my clothes so I thought I was gaining weight?”
Emma’s lips parted. They’d seriously done that?
“I got a real kick out of spending half my junior year thinking I was too fat for a size fourteen,” Charlotte spat angrily.
“That was an awful joke,” Emma said seriously. “I’m really sorry, Char.”
The apology seemed to knock Charlotte off kilter for a moment, but then her expression became impassive once more. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does,” Emma insisted. “It was a mean thing to do.”
Charlotte sniffed. “It was your idea.”
Emma winced. Of course it was Sutton’s idea. “Well, it was a bad move, and I’d take it back if I could. I’m sorry.”
Charlotte stopped in front of Williams-Sonoma and lifted up her shades to peer at Emma from under them. “Okay, I’m starting to think Celeste might be right. You’ve been replaced by a pod person or something.”
Emma smiled. “No pod person here. I’ve just … well, I realized that I sometimes take you guys for granted. I hope you know how much you and Madeline mean to me. You’re my best friends.”
I hovered by my sister in silent agreement. Being dead had given me an entirely new perspective on the way that I had lived. I guess even ghosts could grow up.
“Wait a minute,” Madeline said, stepping forward to join them for real. “Sutton, having a heart-to-heart? Is this the influence of Mr. Sensitivity?”
Charlotte grinned. “Mads, I think you’re onto something. Are you going to start writing poetry now, Sutton?”
Madeline and Charlotte both giggled, startling a nearby pigeon that sat perched on top of a pretzel. “What about bottle-feeding kittens?” Madeline teased.
“Donating your hair to cancer kids?” Charlotte giggled.
“Taking up the guitar and going to open mikes?” Madeline added.
The tension had broken. Emma wrinkled her nose in mock irritation while Madeline and Charlotte leaned into each other, laughing. “You’re both hilarious,” she said haughtily.
“We know,” Charlotte said, gulping down another giggle. She grabbed their hands. “Come on. I have to find a dress that can handle my hot body.” Her voice was sarcastic, but the bitter edge was gone. “And Sutton …”
“Yeah?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Nothing. Thanks. Or … you know … I forgive you. Both of you.” She looked at Madeline, too.
“Hey, I didn’t apologize,” Madeline joked, looping her arm through Charlotte’s.
“That’s because you’re a bitch,” Charlotte said lightly. “You can’t help it. But I still forgive you.”
They started down the mall together, my best friends and my sister. “Thank you,” I whispered to Charlotte. “Thanks for forgiving me.”
Everything changes. Sooner or later, we all grow up.
17
RESEARCHING AND REMINISCING
During free period on Wednesday, Emma slipped into the school library. The library was a bland, beige room lined with metal shelves and hung with posters of celebrities holding books. The librarian’s name was Ms. Rigby, a youngish woman who wore cat-eye glasses and vintage cardigans. She had a perpetually aggravated air, as if she simply could not believe teenagers would turn down a chance to use actual research materials on a daily basis, but if she caught sight of a student perusing the stacks voluntarily, she immediately softened. Emma had been in the library a few times since her arrival in Tucson, first to check out materials for an English paper and again to get some books for pleasure reading. The librarian had treated her with skepticism at first—she seemed to know Sutton by her bad-girl reputation rather than by actual library attendance. But over the past few weeks she’d seemed to accept that Sutton Mercer had taken a bookish turn.
Emma had decided to follow Ethan’s suggestion and do some digging into her mother’s illness. It might not help her solve Sutton’s murder, but at least it’d give her some insight into what Becky was going through.
“Hi, Sutton,” Ms. Rigby said, smiling up at her from the reference desk.
“Hey, Ms. Rigby.” She looked around to make sure no one could overhear her, though the library was mostly empty. “I’m doing some research for a presentation.”
“What’s the topic?”
“Uh, mental illness.”
Ms. Rigby leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. “That’s a pretty big subject to tackle all at once. Anything specific you’re interested in?”
“Well, I’m interested in … violent cases.” Her pulse quickened mildly just saying the words out loud.
The librarian nodded. “The violent ones are always the most interesting, aren’t they?” she said. “I have to admit, Abnormal Psychology was one of my favorite subjects in college. Follow me.”
The librarian led her to an aisle in the middle of the nonfiction stacks. There were four and a half shelves full of titles like An Idiot’s Guide to Personality Disorders and Case Studies in Mental Illness. A lot of the books looked outdated and moldy.
