Nisha looked like she was choking down laughter. “Please. We weren’t ever really together. He’s still kind of hung up on you, but he won’t admit it. Even I got tired of hearing about what a bitch you were.”
Emma poked her. “How charitable of you.”
Nisha grinned. “Plus, he’s kind of a crybaby.”
Emma eyed Garrett and Celeste again. “That’s exactly right,” Celeste was saying, squeezing Garrett’s hand. “There are a lot of selfish people around here.” She glanced back at Emma, Laurel, and Nisha, shooting them a pinched smile.
“Excuse me!” Laurel said, stepping forward, her shoulders tense.
Celeste blinked innocently. “Oh, I didn’t mean you, obviously.” She brightened when her gaze landed on Emma, as if noticing her for the first time. “Sutton! Hi!” She eyed Emma’s empty arms. “What’s the matter? Can’t find anything that fits?” Garrett snickered.
Emma jerked back, like she’d been slapped. “As a matter of fact, she was just about to buy this,” Laurel jumped in, holding up the yellow dress Emma had tried on earlier.
“Oh, no,” Celeste pouted, her large eyes blinking dopily. “But yellow so clashes with your aura. I wouldn’t wear it, if I were you.”
Nisha scowled. “Who died and made you the new age fashion police?”
Garrett frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. His sister looked between all the girls and took a tentative step back.
“Oh, please.” Celeste laughed, all innocence. “I would never claim to be the police of anything, let alone fashion. I don’t believe in anything so … fleeting. Meaningless.”
“Then why are you here?” Laurel asked, not bothering to hide her sarcasm.
Nice one, little sister, I cheered silently.
“Just to keep my friends company and pick up a few gifts,” Celeste explained, draping an arm around Garrett’s shoulders suggestively. “But you’re right, it’s time for me to leave. My chakras are extremely sensitive to all this consumerism.” She sniffed and turned toward the door.
“Um, right,” Garrett said, hurrying to catch up. He shot Emma one more venomous look before disappearing from view.
Emma slumped against the shoe rack, feeling drained. “She’s so weird.”
Nisha waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t let her get to you.”
“Oh, she’s not,” Emma said in her best Sutton voice.
“And don’t let Garrett bother you either,” Laurel said quietly. “He’s just jealous.”
Emma nodded, turning back to the shoes, but she wasn’t so sure. Garrett had seemed more than jealous at the Halloween dance. He’d seemed angry—violent, even.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Garrett’s face either. My memories of my ex were hazy, but I could still see his sweet smile, the gentleness in his eyes when he looked at me. I’d never thought he was capable of that kind of hatred. Was all that anger just because Emma wouldn’t sleep with him? The idea broke my heart a little. I had thought I’d known him better than that.
But obviously I didn’t know anyone as well as I’d thought I did, as Emma kept proving again and again.
14
THE SCHOOL OF BITCHCRAFT
Friday morning, Emma plopped Sutton’s red Kate Spade purse on the table in the pottery studio and slid into the seat between Charlotte and Madeline. A misshapen vase sat in front of Madeline. Charlotte turned over a bulky mug. Across from them, Laurel toyed with two tiny espresso cups. Pots of glaze were strewn across the table alongside paintbrushes of varying sizes, and paper towels.
“That looks awesome, Char,” Emma said after she collected her own long, footed pot from the rack. She pointed to the swirl Charlotte was painting on her mug.
Charlotte flushed with pleasure. “It’s just like putting on eyeliner,” she said.
“Okay, girls,” Madeline interrupted. “We have party details to figure out. It’s a week away, and we’re running out of time.”
Party? Emma almost said out loud, then remembered that Charlotte’s parents were out of town next weekend.
Charlotte propped her chin on her perfectly manicured hand. “I know a guy who can get us a few kegs. That and my parents’ liquor cabinet should be enough.”
Emma tilted her head. “Won’t your parents notice if anything goes missing?”
Charlotte snorted. “Please. They go through Tanqueray like water.”
“What about food?” Madeline asked.
Charlotte shrugged. “We’ll get some platters at AJ’s. I’ve been jonesing for their Brie en croûte, anyway.”
Emma reached for the container of blue glaze, thinking about the parties she’d attended in her old life, where party snacks pretty much consisted of Doritos, Oreos, or a big bowl of Starbursts. She tried to picture Sutton’s friends at one of those parties and nearly burst out laughing.
Suddenly, the telltale jingle of silver on silver made her look up. Celeste stood at the door to the studio in a long loose tunic embroidered with shiny metallic thread, Garrett at her side. She leaned up and planted a wet, lingering kiss on his lips, then shot a pointed glance at Emma, as if to rub in the fact that she was with Sutton’s ex.
“Thanks for walking me to class,” she cooed, her voice low and dreamy.
Garrett touched one of her braids. “See you soon,” he said huskily. She hung on the doorjamb after he left, watching him until he disappeared around the corner.
Madeline’s jaw dropped open. Charlotte threw her brush on the table in disgust, then peered at Emma. “Um, why aren’t you more pissed?”
Emma shrugged, unscrewing the lid to the glaze. “I saw them last night at Saks. Apparently, they’re a thing now.”
Charlotte balled up her fist. “Well, he’s clearly going out with her just to get back at you, Sutton. There’s no way he actually likes her.”
Laurel cleared her throat. “Apparently, a lot of the guys think she’s really cute.” All heads whipped around to face her. She shrugged. “Thayer says they’re all talking about her, anyway.”
“Does Thayer think she’s cute?” Emma asked, wrinkling her nose. Celeste didn’t seem like his type.
Laurel rolled her eyes. “He says, and I quote, ‘She’s got a celestial body.’”
“Ew!” I said aloud, though no one heard me. That didn’t sound like Thayer at all.
Celeste entered the room, drifted to the rack of fired pottery, and removed a bowl, the bells at her ankles jingling with every move. On her way back to her seat, she paused at Emma’s table. She looked at Emma searchingly, as if she were trying to make her out through a dense fog.
“Can I help you?” Emma said acidly, suddenly on the defensive. She wasn’t ready for another baffling Celeste confrontation.
“I just wish I could help you,” Celeste breathed. Madeline and Charlotte exchanged glances, arching their eyebrows. “Laugh all you will,” Celeste said to them, “but Sutton’s aura is in dire need of healing energy. Somewhere along the way, maybe in a past life, her spirit has been fractured. That’s why it’s so hard for you to be emotionally generous,” she said to Emma in a sickly sweet tone.
“I hear you’re getting pretty emotionally generous with Sutton’s ex,” Charlotte spat. “Hope your birthday’s coming up. He gives pretty good presents.”
Madeline and Laurel both snorted with laughter.
Celeste just smiled knowingly, her gaze still on Emma. “Secrets will out, Sutton Mercer. You’ve been warned.” With that, she drifted past them in a wave of patchouli.
The words hit Emma like a brick. Secrets were the only thing keeping her alive.
“What’s her problem?” Charlotte whispered.
“Yeah, did you hurt her in a past life or something, Sutton?” Madeline joked.
“I don’t know,” Emma said, feeling uneasy. “But she definitely has it in for me.”
They stared at Celeste, who’d found a spot at a table full of boys, all of whom were now surreptitiously ogling her. One of them, a junior who wo
re his hair in an emo shag over his left eye, leaned over to inspect the bowl she was painting, using the opportunity to look down her shirt.
“You know what I’ve been thinking?” Madeline said, her voice dropping low. “I think we’re overdue for a Lying Game prank. And I think our next victim may have just fallen right in our lap.”
The other three girls all leaned imperceptibly toward Madeline, eyes flashing in breathless excitement. But Emma still felt torn. The Lying Game’s pranks sometimes made her uncomfortable—she’d been on the receiving end of popular kids’ cruelty too many times back in Nevada. She couldn’t shake a feeling of guilt whenever she participated.
“This school’s cafeteria is totally disappointing,” Celeste was saying to an athletic boy across the room. “In Taos, my school only sold organic produce, and all of the entrées were farm-to-table.”
“Cool,” the boy said. As if he really cared.
“And there are so many snack machines in this place,” Celeste went on. “It’s disgusting. You know those things are full of toxins—plus, they make you overweight.” Her gaze slid to Beth Franklin, a sweet but slightly heavy girl who was munching on a bag of vending machine pretzels at the next table. Beth turned purple and shoved the pretzels back into her bag.
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.
“She’s not so bad, you guys,” Lili piped up. “I’m in P.E. with her and she’s actually pretty fun.”
“Whatever,” Charlotte said. “You can invite her when you see her this afternoon, Lili. Just tell her not to wear a whipped cream dress or something insane, okay?”
Emma sipped tentatively at her own coffee and winced. Sutton drank hers black, with just a hint of Splenda, and she still wasn’t used to the bitterness.
Madeline nudged her. “Someone’s quiet this morning.”
“Yeah, what are you planning?” Charlotte lowered her shades and peered sternly out at her over the tops of the frames. “I do not want pig blood anywhere near my parents’ Persian rug, Sutton, so don’t even think about it.”
Emma tossed her hair with what she hoped was convincing hauteur. “Relax, Char, I’m not planning anything for the party. Except showing the rest of you up, that is.”
“That’s not a plan, that’s just your terrible personality,” Laurel teased.
Before Emma could come up with a retort, someone placed an icy hand on her shoulder. “Ladies,” said a cool female voice.
Emma yelped in surprise. Her balance swayed violently, and before she knew it she was on the ground splayed out next to the low wall, looking up at Nisha’s startled face.
&n
bsp; Everyone burst into hysterics. Tears of mirth poured down Laurel’s face. Charlotte and Madeline were paralyzed with laughter, clutching their stomachs. Lili and Gabby had fallen into each other’s arms. Nisha was the one to lean down and help Emma to her feet. “Sorry,” she said, sounding mortified. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Emma’s face burned. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, trying to shrug it off. “I just … thought you were someone else, that’s all.”
Yeah, my murderer. But Emma needed to keep her wits about her. The killer could be watching her right now. Not to mention that she was making me look bad.
The others stopped laughing long enough to catch their breath, and Nisha stepped forward. “I just wanted to show you what I made,” she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her coral messenger bag and handing it to Emma. The others leaned in over her shoulders to see what it said.
Across the top of the flyer, twenty-point Gothic script read CONFERENCE OF THE DEAD. Below it was a clip-art picture of a tombstone.
“‘Penetrate the mysteries beyond the veil of the living,’” Charlotte read out loud. “‘Join us Sunday evening in Sabino Canyon as we call upon the spirits to reveal themselves. Masks and cloaks required for entrance.’” There was an e-mail address at the bottom for an RSVP. Charlotte grinned.
“Oh, that’s too perfect,” Madeline said. “She’s going to eat it up.”
“Who?” Gabby asked, staring at it.
“Celeste,” Charlotte said. “She’s our next victim.”
Lili looked confused. “That hippie chick? Since when?”
“Since she started seriously creeping me out,” Emma explained. “And Nisha is helping us. It was her idea.”
Gabby and Lili raised their eyebrows, but neither said a word. For once, their fingers were still hovering over their phone keypads.
Laurel pointed at the invite. “What’s with the masks?”
“That way she won’t recognize us and leave right away,” Nisha explained. “Plus, masks are scary, right? All part of the smoke and mirrors.”
“We’ll meet at Sutton and Laurel’s on Sunday to finalize everything,” Charlotte said, tossing her cup in the garbage and standing up.
The Lying Game #5: Cross My Heart, Hope to Die Page 9