“That’s too bad,” Lili said just as pointedly back.
“Because we’re the only ones who know where the best hot springs are.”
“And we’ve got an adorable little hibachi gril . We could make s’mores,” Gabby added.
“I don’t know if starting a fire in the desert is the best idea.” Laurel smirked.
Emma ran her tongue over her teeth as she stared at the girls, thinking of their car slowly passing Sutton’s house. Had they been the ones lurking outside Sutton’s house last night, watching her and Ethan swim?
Madeline appraised their outfits. “Voting for court already happened, ladies. You don’t have to dress like Homecoming Barbies anymore.”
“Maybe we like it.” Lili put her hands on her bony hips.
“So, girls. Have you figured out the plans for our ceremony yet?”
“It’d better be good,” Gabby jumped in, chomping hard on a piece of gum. The scent of watermelon wafted through the air. “Servants . . . awesome food and music . . . and perhaps a Lying Game initiation ceremony as the cherry on top?” Gabby ticked off each request on her fingers.
“We have some kil er prank ideas,” Lili said, a glint dancing in her light eyes.
“We’d be an asset to the group,” Gabby said in a low voice, staring directly at Emma. Emma drew back slightly, her heart speeding up just a tick. Gabby pul ed a tiny bottle from the pocket of her dress, flicked open the pink lid, and placed a round pil on her tongue. Her throat rose as she swal owed. Her gaze never left Emma’s, as though passing an unspoken message between them.
“No can do on the Lying Game invite, ladies,” Emma said, trying to sound confident and poised. Sutton hadn’t al owed Gabby and Lili into the club before—maybe for a good reason.
Gabby’s eyes flickered over Emma’s body, as if sizing her up for a fight. “We’l see about that, won’t we?” she said, her words suddenly hard.
Lili lightly touched Gabby’s wrist. “Chil , Gabs,” she said in a hushed voice. Then she yanked Gabby across the patio. “No autographs!” she cal ed to their gaping classmates, shielding her face as though she was being chased by the paparazzi. As soon as Lili let go of her, Gabby spun around and made her finger into a gun, pointing at Emma and pretending to shoot. Emma’s mouth fel open.
A flash instantly swarmed my vision of me ushering the twins out of my room at a sleepover, simpering, “Sorry, girls. We have private Lying Game stuff to discuss. Stay out in the den with the other nobodies.” Gabby’s knuckles had gone white as she clutched her iPhone tighter. Then Lili had risen to ful height. “Mark my words, Sutton, it won’t always be this way,” she’d spat.
But now, Madeline just rol ed her eyes at the Twitter Twins. “Something’s gotten into those two lately. They’re crazier than ever.”
“That’s for sure,” Charlotte said, sipping her coffee and staring at the double doors the twins had disappeared through. “But they do have a point—we have to plan their ceremony.”
“Let’s do it Saturday.” Madeline stuffed her empty Tupperware container into her purse. “My house?”
“I can’t,” Emma said. “I’m grounded, remember?”
Charlotte let out a snort. “When has that ever stopped you?”
The bel rang, and everyone rose en masse, tossed their leftovers into the trash, and headed back into the school. Laurel and Charlotte split off in opposite directions, but Madeline hung back and waited for Emma to pack her bag so they could walk together.
They turned a corner into the music wing. Off-key notes blared from open doorways. At the end of the hal , Elvira handed out more flyers for the Homecoming dance. Her fake nose threatened to fal off her face, and a couple of kids snickered as they passed. Madeline glanced at Emma out of the corner of her eye.
“What’s with you lately?” Madeline asked, slowing their pace.
“What do you mean?” Emma replied, startled.
Madeline skirted around a girl struggling with a tuba case. “You’ve been . . . weird. Cautious, disappearing and not explaining why, shoplifting by yourself . . . Char and I think an alien life-form has come down and taken over your body.”
Emma felt a flush creep over her face and chest. Calm down, she said silently. She tugged on Sutton’s necklace, fighting for composure. And then she had an idea. “I guess I’m upset because you and Char seem to be real y close lately,” she said in a pinched voice, trying to sound petulant and jealous. “Am I being replaced as your BFF?” She eyed Madeline’s tal bal et-dancer frame, clad in skinny cargo pants and a gray dolman-sleeve sweater, hoping she’d take the bait.
Madeline’s finely drawn features tightened. “Char and I have always been friends.”
“Yeah, but something has changed between you two,”
Emma goaded. “You seem tight now. Does this have to do with the night before Nisha’s party? I know you were together, Mads.”
Madeline stopped short in the hal , letting students stream around them. A vein at her temple pulsed. “Would you lay off about that night?”
Emma blinked. A fire raging in her bel y fueled her forward. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“But . . .”
“Just leave it, Sutton!” Madeline turned and blindly pushed through the nearest door, which led to the school library.
Emma shoved her shoulder against the library door and fol owed Madeline inside. Kids hunched over homework at long, wide desks. Computer screens glowed behind a wal of glass. The big room smel ed like old books and the disinfectant spray-cleaner Travis used to huff. Madeline disappeared down one of the back aisles.