The Lying Game #4: Hide and Seek

by Shepard, Sara

  Lili waded over to Emma and put her arm around her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll wear this bikini. Shock a little life into the old fogies.”

  The girls giggled. Suddenly, a rustle sounded in the brush, and everyone stopped.

  Madeline’s eyes were wide. “What’s that?”

  Gabby rose halfway out of the water. “What if it’s security?”

  “I so can’t get busted again,” Lili whined.

  Emma felt goose bumps rise along her arms. The thrashing noise grew louder. Emma made out two figures tearing through the branches. There was a small yelp, and then Thayer and Laurel tumbled out of the bush.

  “God,” Lili murmured, splashing them. “Way to freak us out, idiots.”

  “Sorry!” Laurel trilled, looking giddy. She took Thayer by the hand. “We were just fooling around.” She stared at Emma as she said it. “Sorry we’re late.”

  “Yeah, sorry we’re late, Mads,” Thayer added, glancing at his sister.

  Madeline’s expression was stony. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

  Thayer blinked. “I-I didn’t hear them, I guess.”

  Madeline jumped out of the hot spring and snatched Thayer’s phone from his pocket. “You don’t even have it on!” she shrieked.

  “I’m sorry,” Thayer protested, holding up his hands.

  Madeline didn’t answer. Everyone else was silent, looking around awkwardly. Laurel dropped a canvas tote bag next to a squat rock, pretending not to notice the tension. She slipped out of a white eyelet dress and set a navy blue towel on top of the tote.

  Waving his hand in a whatever motion, Thayer pulled his black T-shirt over his head. His bare chest was smooth and tan, and his stomach muscles rippled. Emma caught herself looking, then tore her eyes away. It was surprisingly hard not to look at Thayer—he was so gorgeous. “Um, I thought this was a girls-only party,” Charlotte said as he edged into the spring.

  Thayer raised an eyebrow. “Are you talking about top-secret stuff?”

  Emma shrugged. “Kind of, and—”

  “Oh, please.” Laurel rolled her eyes. “Thayer can know. He’ll be invited anyway.” She cuddled up to him, all the while keeping her gaze on Emma. “Then again, what was that thing you always said, Sutton? If I told you, then I’d have to kill you?”

  All of a sudden, Emma felt unbearably hot. She didn’t like sitting here discussing killing with Laurel, even jokingly. She wasn’t sure if she could even be in the same pool with her right now. Not answering, she leapt out of the spring and wrapped her body in a huge beach towel. The cool night air calmed her pulse, and taking deep, even breaths, she wandered down one of the paths, trying to clear her mind.

  Emma sank against a boulder and stared at the night sky, wondering just how much longer she could take this. She needed hard evidence against Laurel, something she could actually take to the police.

  “Sutton?”

  Emma whipped around. Standing before her, his skin glistening and wet, was Thayer. He was out of breath, as though he’d jogged over to her. Emma kept her gaze averted from Thayer’s taut stomach. She decided she’d better not look at his arm muscles, either.

  “Thayer!” Laurel’s voice sounded in the distance. “Where did you go?”

  “One second,” Thayer called, sounding a little annoyed. He looked at Emma, his face full of concern. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she answered, staring at the ground and trying to marshal her courage. This was her chance to question him. “Um, how about you? Are you having fun with Laurel?”

  Thayer’s expression tightened. “What do you care?”

  Emma’s mouth fell open. “Sorry. I was just making conversation.”

  Thayer’s broad shoulders tensed. “I don’t get it, Sutton.” He shook his head slowly. “I’m trying to move on. But it’s…” His voice trailed off, swallowed by the night breeze that passed between them. “I can’t stand seeing you with Landry,” he finally said. “I want to kill that guy.”

  Oh, Thayer, I whispered, wishing he could hear me. It broke my heart to be so close to him and not be able to explain what I still felt for him, even now. It killed me all over again that Thayer thought my feelings for him were gone.

  The cold air chilled Emma’s still-wet bathing suit. “I’m sorry,” was the first thing she could think to say. She couldn’t imagine how this looked—Sutton had been in love with Thayer before he vanished. He’d been hit by a car on their last night together, and when he came back, she was with someone else. She felt terrible for doing this to him, but then, it wasn’t like she could just pick up where Sutton left off with Thayer either.

  “And…I’m sorry I wasn’t the one there for you in the hospital that night,” Emma added. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for so long. I understand why you had to call Laurel, but I still feel like it should’ve been me…”

  Thayer scoffed. “Whatever. It’s in the past now.”

  “But I feel terrible about it.” Emma heard a splash and a giggle from the hot springs. “Did Laurel at least stay with you?” Emma pressed. “Overnight, I mean. So you didn’t have to be alone?”

  Thayer let out a laugh, but anger flickered across his features. “Do you really think I’m that much of a wuss? I didn’t need Laurel with me to hold my hand.”

  Emma blinked, needing him to be clear. “So…she didn’t stay with you?”

  Thayer shook his head. “She left shortly after she dropped me off. She said she wanted to have a word with you. She was furious, like she wanted to kill you or something. I’ve never seen her like that before.”

  Emma tried her hardest not to gasp. It was like the words had been scripted for Thayer, proving Laurel’s guilt. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  The words rushed through me, bringing a terrible emptiness. I hadn’t realized until that moment how desperately I’d wanted Laurel to be innocent. She was my little sister, the girl I grew up with, who I once considered my best friend. But Thayer’s words stripped me of my last shred of hope. She hadn’t been with him that night, and she hadn’t been with Nisha and the tennis team. I had to face it. Laurel, my sister, had murdered me—over a guy.

  A cough sounded. Emma whirled around and saw a figure standing at the end of the trail. Laurel’s light eyes flashed in the darkness. “So that’s where you are,” she said, her voice no longer teasing, but instead flat and cold.

  The hair on Emma’s arms stood on end. How much had Laurel heard? “W-we were just talking,” she stammered.

  “Yeah,” Thayer said. His glance darted between Emma and Laurel. It was clear he wasn’t sure whose side to be on.

  Laurel glared at both of them. Then she held up something in the air. Only when a flash went off did Emma realize it was a camera. After that, Laurel whipped around and marched back to the hot springs, her spine ramrod-straight. “Join me when you’re ready, Thayer,” she called.

  Emma and Thayer stared after her, and my heart clenched at the tragic characters in front of me: the boy I loved, the twin I’d never met, and the sister who took both of them away from me.

  12

  TRACK MEET

  The next morning in gym class, Emma and a group of girls walked the perimeter of the track instead of playing handball with the boys. Every girl walked fast enough to appease the gym instructor but slowly enough not to sweat so they wouldn’t mess up their makeup during school hours.

  Emma tried to listen to the endless chatter about weekend plans, disappointment over how next week’s dance had been canceled, and talk about Thayer’s return to school, but she couldn’t concentrate. She’d barely slept last night, so aware that Laurel was just feet down the hall from her.

  Only when she rounded the corner and noticed Garrett climbing into his car in the parking lot did her mind wander for a moment. What was good-boy Garrett doing leaving school property during second period? Even more bizarre, Nisha was getting into the passenger seat. But hadn’t Nisha said they weren’t hanging out anymore?

>   I knew Emma’s cease-fire with my sworn enemy was too good to be true.

  The smell of sunscreen and perfume greeted Emma’s nose as a pack of sophomores hustled past. “Hey, Sutton!” Clara called from the middle of the group. The sleeves of her Hollier High tennis T-shirt were rolled up over her tanned shoulders.

  “Hey,” Emma said absently, moving away from the fence. She didn’t want anyone to see her staring at Garrett and Nisha. All she needed was some gossipy underclassmen assuming that she wasn’t over Garrett and spreading the news around school.

  Suddenly, Emma noticed Ethan sitting on the bleachers across the field and took off in an excited jog. “Hey, stranger,” she crooned into his ear, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Is someone cutting class? I thought you had English this period.”

  Ethan whipped around. When Emma saw his cold expression, she drew back. “I’m kind of busy.”

  “W-What’s wrong?” Emma stammered.

  Ethan glanced away, his eyes roving over the track.

  “Ethan?” Emma asked softly. But he just sat there, avoiding her gaze.

  A cluster of students passed, glancing at Ethan and Emma out of the corners of their eyes. Emma instantly pasted a smile on her face, not wanting them to notice that she and Ethan were fighting.

  Finally, Ethan took out his cell phone and turned it toward Emma with a sigh. She stared at a dark, fuzzy picture on the screen. After a moment, she realized it was her and Thayer, standing on the trail, talking. Her heart sank. They were both in their bathing suits. And their arms were almost touching.

  Then she realized. Laurel had sent it to him. “Don’t you see,” she whispered. “She’s trying to break us up because she’s jealous.”

  Or she’s trying to send you a message, I thought. She’s on to you. She heard what you and Thayer were talking about. Stop while you’re ahead.

  Ethan let the phone fall to his side. “Did she Photoshop it? Because you guys look like you’re having a romantic tête-à-tête.”

  “I was asking him about the night Sutton died,” Emma said. “You won’t believe what I found out.”

  Suddenly, a metal hurdle clattered on the ground as the track coach tried to assemble them in an upright position. Emma swallowed hard. They were way too public right here. Anyone could hear them.

  “Walk with me?” Emma asked in a small voice. For a moment, Ethan just sat there, like he wasn’t going to budge. When he finally slid off the bleacher, Emma let out a sigh of relief.

  They began to circle the track, a pack of students sprinting past them. Only when they rounded the corner to a spot behind the field house did Emma yank him off the red asphalt and into the little room that housed the practice mats, javelin poles, and shot puts. When Emma shut the door, only a sliver of light poked through. It would have been romantic if Ethan weren’t standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Thayer told me that Laurel didn’t stay with him all night at the hospital,” Emma whispered, her voice sounding tinny and hollow against the low ceiling. “She just dropped him off. And he told me that she was furious at Sutton. He literally said she wanted to kill her.”

  “Whoa.” Ethan let out a low whistle, seemingly forgetting his anger. “That’s messed up.”

  “So how can I prove it before she does something to me?” Emma asked. She glanced through the crack in the door, watching as a couple of Hollier kids bounced on the pole vault mat. “I want this over with. This is getting so out of hand. And beyond getting justice for Sutton, do you realize how sick I am of pretending? How I just want to be me again? My entire life is on hold. I just realized the other day that I may not be able to go to college.”

  Ethan’s features softened. “I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

  Emma nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling better. “So you’re not mad at me?”

  Ethan shrugged. “It’s hard to think about you and Thayer together.”

  “You know I’m into you—and only you.”

  “I know. Really, I do. But I am annoyed you didn’t invite me to the hot springs. I’d love to know where they are.”

  “Well, now I know where they are.” Emma playfully poked his chest. “You and I will go soon—alone.”

  “Sounds like a date,” Ethan murmured.

  “You’re still planning on coming to my dad’s birthday party Saturday night, right?” Emma asked. “Please tell me you are. I don’t think I can deal with it without you. Especially with Laurel there. It’s freaky enough sleeping one room away from her. I’ve locked the door and the windows every night this week.”

  Ethan pretended to think about it. “I suppose,” he said after a moment. “But only if you’re very, very good. And only if you introduce me to this Grandma Mercer.”

  “You’ll love her.” Emma rolled her eyes. “But she smells like she bathed in Chanel No. 5. And she’ll probably offer you a cigarette.”

  “Well, then I’ll be sure to bring my lighter,” Ethan joked. “Oh, and speaking of old ladies, I almost cracked the code on the traffic cameras. The proof that it wasn’t you pulling that tree prank will be yours in no time to hand over to Ms. Ambrose.”

  “Thank you!” Emma clutched her hands dramatically. “The Lying Game will really love you then. They’re already working on another prank for the dance to keep the Devious Four in their place.”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to do anything too horrible to those girls, are you? I mean, they’re bitches, but I know what you Lying Game girls are capable of.”

  “I’m not a Lying Game girl,” Emma reminded him. “And we’re only doing what they have coming to them.” Then she had an idea. “Maybe the prank-inside-the-prank at the secret dance could be the video footage displayed on a big screen in the gym. That way, the school would know it wasn’t the Lying Game who did it. And the Devious Four will finally have to own up to their actions.”

  It seemed like a good prank to me—effective, but not cruel. I approved.

  Ethan nodded. “Works for me. It’s time-stop photography, so it’ll be like a flip book, not continuous footage.”

  “Even cooler.” Emma leaned against the field house door, suddenly contemplative. “If only there was video footage of who killed Sutton. That would make our lives a whole lot easier, huh?”

  Ethan’s expression became serious. “Do you really think it’s Laurel?”

  “Yes, I really do. But that doesn’t mean the police will believe me.”

  “Have you ever searched her room?” Ethan asked.

  Emma twisted her mouth. “A few times—at Sutton’s birthday party, and I noticed that she’d put Thayer’s initials on her calendar the night Sutton died.” She raised her head, staring at Ethan’s silhouette. Had Laurel known Thayer was coming? Had she followed them to Sabino Canyon and then run Thayer over while aiming for her sister? “But I’ve never snooped in her drawers or anything. I guess I’ll try again.”

  “Good.” Ethan leaned in and kissed her. “You never know. Maybe I’ll be attending the next school dance with Emma Paxton.”

  “Maybe,” Emma said, hope creeping into her heart. Ethan took Emma’s hand, and they emerged from the field house together.

  As the sun blazed down on them like a spotlight, I wondered if Emma would get her happy ending. If after exposing Laurel, she’d live with my family, stay friends with my besties, and go to U of A with Ethan on a full scholarship. But then again, I knew all too well that not everyone got a happily ever after.

  13

  GRANDMOTHERS KNOW BEST

  “Sutton?” a voice called through Sutton’s bedroom door Friday night.

  Emma jumped off Sutton’s bed, where she’d been looking at the Sutton Mercer Murder Suspects list that she’d started when she’d first arrived in Tucson. At the top of the page, Laurel’s name had been crossed off in thick black ink, but Emma had re-added it at the bottom, just below Thayer’s now crossed-out name, and underlined it three times. Just as she slapped the not
ebook closed and shoved it under her bed, Grandma Mercer poked her head in.

  “What’s that?” Grandma’s eyes narrowed at something on the floor.

  Emma followed her gaze. The edge of her notebook peeked out from under Sutton’s white bed skirt. “Oh, just doing a little journaling,” she muttered dismissively, kicking it farther under the bed.

  Grandma leaned in the doorway. As usual, she was impeccably dressed in a tailor-made tweed suit and high heels. Her lipstick was perfect, and her hair didn’t move as she walked. There was a slight hint of smoke coming off her clothes. Emma wondered if Mr. Mercer really hadn’t noticed yet. “Do you have homework?”

  “Not really,” Emma said. “I’m pretty much all done.”

  “Good. That means you can come with me.” Grandma offered her hand. “Your father’s party is tomorrow, and he’s asked me to do some last-minute things.” She made a face. “Well, he hasn’t asked me, per se, but I think some things have been overlooked. For instance, did you know that your mother hasn’t designed a lighting scheme?”

  Emma opened her mouth, then shut it fast. It seemed to Emma that Mrs. Mercer had planned everything down to the last detail. Mrs. Mercer had made countless calls to the caterer, adjusting and readjusting the menu. They’d hired a salsa band, and she’d been practicing her dance moves at night, stressing because she’d never salsaed in her life. Emma thought it was really sweet that she was putting so much effort into making her husband’s party special. But there was no use arguing with Grandma. She seemed like the kind of woman who was going to do things her way, no ifs, ands, or buts.

  I wonder if that’s where I got my stubbornness from. But then I remembered: I was adopted. Grandma wasn’t part of my gene pool.

  In minutes, Emma had changed into a cotton dress and kitten heels—Grandma deemed that her jeans and T-shirt were “too sloppy” to go to Neiman Marcus in—and she was sitting in the plushy leather passenger seat of Grandma’s Cadillac. And minutes after that, they were walking through the Neiman Marcus perfume aisle. Emma’s nose twitched from the competing scents.