Half an hour later, Claire waved good-bye to Lisbeth and ran up the front path to Emily's door, grimacing as the rain pelted her face and snatched at the hems of her yoga pants. She pushed open the front door, and the warm, sweet smell of breakfast washed over her.
"Hello?" she called.
"Up here!" Emily's voice sailed down from her bedroom.
"Hi, Claire!" Mrs. Lucero shouted from the kitchen. "Pancakes are on the way. You want a cup of coffee?"
"No, thanks," Claire said over her shoulder, already halfway up the stairs.
At the door to Emily's room, she jerked to a halt. Emily sat on her bed, surrounded by Styrofoam leaves in varying sizes. She had a bottle of glue and a tiny brush in her hand. On the floor in front of the bed, Amy sat with a couple of huge bowls of glitter.
Something inside Claire broke—like a cracked fishbowl, shiny and dripping. Every time it seemed like something was finally going to be the way it always had been, it changed. Why hadn't Emily told her that Amy was here? The memory of Amy telling her the night before that she was spending the night at Emily's resurfaced. But it was nearly noon—why was Amy still here?
"Hi, Claire!" Amy looked up from dipping a gluey piece of leaf-shaped foam into one of the bowls. Her curls were piled on top of her head, caught there with a pair of chopsticks. A few errant flecks of glitter sparkled across her cheekbones, making her look sickeningly adorable.
"Uh, hi." Claire glanced down at her soggy running shoes. Imagined her sloppy ponytail.
Emily grinned at her, a smudge of white glue marking her cheek. "We're making fall look fancy." She pointed to an army of glittered Styrofoam leaves drying in ranks on top of the Arts and Leisure section of the Sunday paper. "Wanna help?"
Claire lowered herself to the floor. Emily's room felt strange—Claire was so used to it being just the two of them. Amy's presence shifted something in the air, knocking things off balance. "Um, sure."
"Oh, awesome!" Amy handed her a bowl of orange sparkles. "This is going to go so much faster with three people. Just scoop the glitter over them until they're totally covered." She looked down at her glue-and-glitter-smeared fingers and sighed. "We're going to be walking disco balls by the end of this."
"Can you believe Amy got roped into doing this?" Emily asked, handing Claire a glue-drenched acorn. "They're totally taking advantage of the fact that the word 'no' apparently doesn't exist in her native language—you know, Philadelphian." Emily shot Amy a meaningful look.
Amy laughed, an inside-joke sort of laugh that squirmed unpleasantly over Claire's skin. She and Emily were getting so close. Claire wanted that back. It would be too hard to keep her true identity a secret from Amy and Emily both, but watching the two of them start the sort of boundaryless friendship that she'd had with Emily, before all the secrets, before all the hiding . . . it made her chest ache so badly that her ribs were nearly cracking with it.
Claire dropped her Styrofoam into the bowl, turning her head as a puff of sparkles rose into the air and settled on her lap. "How many of these are you making, and why, exactly?"
"Five hundred," Amy announced. "They're decorations for the Autumn Ball. I know it's ages away, but I figured I needed to get a jump on it since I have so many to make. It's so nice of you guys to help!" She smiled at Claire. "You and Matthew are already going—now Emily and I just need to find dates and we'll be all set!"
The way she said it made it sound like they would all be going together. Claire looked up at Emily, trying to gauge her best friend's reaction. Emily was focused a little too intently on the half-coated leaf in front of her, and the tips of her ears were cotton-candy pink.
Slowly, Claire reached into the bowl and sent a drift of glitter cascading over the acorn while she chose her next words.
"Yeah. I'm excited about the dance." She tried to sound casual.
"You should totally join the dance committee," Amy said. "I mean, we need more people, and you're obviously good with glitter." Emily laughed, and Claire did too, surprised at the wit peeking through Amy's perky veneer. An unexpected warmth flared in Claire, catching her off-guard. For a moment she saw how it could have been—the three of them—if Claire hadn't had so much to hold back.
"I—that sounds fun, but I don't think that KateMarie Brown would approve of me having a hand in major school social events," Claire said.
Amy rolled her eyes. "KateMarie doesn't rule the world."
"She sure thinks she does," Emily groused, putting glue on another leaf. "God, Claire, remember when Yolanda wanted her to come to your birthday party last summer?" She looked over at Amy. "KateMarie blew her off just because she didn't want to deal with the pool thing."
Amy shuddered. "Well, that I can actually relate to. You really have a pool?"
Claire nodded, uncomfortable.
"Ugh. They terrify me. I can't swim at all. I'm a total solidground sort of girl. So, I guess KateMarie and I agree on one thing, at least."