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“This is my friend Alex. From Henderson,” she said, and Alex nodded slowly. Emma tensed a little—this worlds-colliding moment felt weird. Alex was the kind of girl the Lying Game had loved to punk. And Sutton’s friends were the kind of girls Alex used to call “fashion victims” and “trend whores.”
Lili looked Alex up and down. “I love your boots,” she said. “I had a pair of knee-highs, but the dog ate them.”
“That sucks,” Alex said. Lili nodded seriously.
“Henderson is near Las Vegas, right?” Charlotte asked. “We went there once, last summer, on a Lying Game trip. Sutton talked her way into getting us the Presidential Suite at the Bellagio.” She smiled sadly. “It must be fun living there. There’s so much to do.”
“It’s okay,” Alex said. “Not as much fun without Emma.”
“So . . . will you stay in Tucson, now that this is all over?” Madeline asked Emma tentatively, and she nodded.
“I hope so. The Mercers asked me to live with them.” She glanced at Alex. “I’ll miss you so much, but I’ve never had family before. I need to do this.”
“I know,” Alex said. “I get it. Besides, it’s not like you’re that far from me. Maybe you’ll take another Lying Game trip soon, and come visit.” She struggled a little over the name of their clique, but no one else seemed to notice. Emma smiled.
Charlotte exchanged a glance with Madeline, who gave a tiny nod. “Speaking of Lying Game, we were thinking sleepover, this weekend. Would you want to come?”
Emma flushed with pleasure. “I’d love to.” She paused, then went on. “There’s one thing I won’t do, though.”
Madeline cocked her head curiously, but Laurel looked like she knew what Emma was about to say.
“No more pranks. I can’t do it anymore.”
The girls were silent for a long moment. Charlotte looked down at her black Jimmy Choos, and Madeline hugged herself. Behind them, the Twitter Twins’ jaws had dropped in shock. Alex just raised an eyebrow questioningly. But Laurel nodded.
“I’m with Emma on this,” she said. “It’s hurt too many people. And my snuff film prank was the one that Ethan used to . . . you know . . .” She trailed off.
Madeline took a deep breath. “You’re right. Maybe it’s time to be just boring old popular girls for once. We are fabulous enough not to need a gimmick, you know.”
Charlotte swept her hair behind her shoulder. “I’ve been thinking it’s time for a while now. We’re not kids anymore.”
Emma glanced at Lili and Gabby, who looked mutinous. Lili leaned in to whisper something in Gabby’s ear, and Gabby nodded. They had only gotten into the club a few months ago and clearly weren’t happy to be done with it so soon.
Oh, well. The Twitter Twins could go rogue, as long as they didn’t prank Emma.
“Anyway, we don’t have time for pranks right now,” Charlotte said. “I need to find a new swimsuit for Barbados. I can’t just sit in a cover-up the whole time if I’m going to get any color.” She smiled shyly. “Emma, you’re still invited if you want to come. A little beach, booze, and boys might be just what the doctor ordered to recover from . . . from all this.” She gestured helplessly around. Emma patted her shoulder gratefully, truly touched.
“Thanks, Char. But I need to spend this Christmas with my family.” She met Laurel’s eye, and they both smiled.
“More for us,” Madeline said brightly. “We’ll bring you back some rum.”
Emma laughed. Suddenly, the sun on her face and the December breeze playing against her bare legs felt almost heavenly.
I watched my friends comforting each other, their eyes shining with tears, their smiles tentative in the winter sun. I knew how much they’d miss me—that they’d all carry that sorrow for a long time, deep in their hearts. But they would be all right. They would live, and thrive, and remember me with love, and eventually, they would let go of me, the way the living always had to let go of the dead.
Then I saw something that wrenched my heart in my chest.
Thayer, hands in his pockets, lingered off to the side. Alone. And watching Emma.
36
YOURS FOREVER
Thayer stood slightly apart from the crowd, leaning against the low white wall that surrounded the church’s property. He’d come in a perfectly tailored Burberry sport coat and slacks, no tie. His dark hair fell down over one eye, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. When he saw Emma approach, he raised his hand a little.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she replied. Silence drifted down between them. She watched Garrett join Celeste and Louisa, wiping tears from his eyes. Grandma Mercer had stepped down from the church, Mr. Mercer at her arm. Laurel walked swiftly to her side and took her other arm, murmuring in her ear.
A few feet from Emma and Thayer, a pair of mourning doves perched together in a cactus. They cooed softly at each other, back and forth, like they were deep in conversation.
“How is it the thorns don’t hurt them?” Thayer asked abruptly.
Emma cocked her head questioningly. He nodded at the birds.
“I guess because they’re so light,” Emma said. She swallowed, trying to push down the lump in her throat. “Thayer, I am so, so sorry.”
Slowly he drew his gaze toward her. His hazel eyes were pained but clear. “I’m not mad at you, Emma.” He gazed down into her face for a long moment, then looked quickly away. “It’s just . . . You look just like her. Even knowing everything, there’s a part of me that wants to kiss you.”
