The Lying Game #5: Cross My Heart, Hope to Die

Tucked into an alcove next to the walk-in pantry, the security system control panel flashed green. Disarmed. Not that it mattered if it was on or not, since Becky had gotten past it before. Emma’s heart picked up speed at the memory of Sutton’s killer strangling her in this very kitchen. Her hands shook. Couldn’t she have one night off from worrying for her life? She deserved it.

 

“Bottoms up!” she yelled to Charlotte, then finished her drink in a single gulp.

 

 

A few hours later, Emma wasn’t worried about anything at all. She and Brian Lloyd, cocaptain of the basketball team, had just beat Charlotte and Mark Bell in a heated game of beer pong out on the patio. When Brian challenged her to a victory tequila shot, she hadn’t even flinched, just tossed back her head and downed it quickly, without salt or lime. “That’s the Sutton Mercer I know and love!” Charlotte trilled, throwing an arm around Emma’s shoulders affectionately. “Where have you been hiding?”

 

Emma shrugged and floated past Tim Sullivan, whose father owned a string of sporting goods stores across Arizona and who was doing a keg stand as the entire football team cheered him on. Inside, a Jay-Z song was playing on Charlotte’s sound system. Girls in tiny dresses were dancing in groups, or with their arms entwined around boys in button-downs and jeans. Emma smiled and waved at everyone, reveling in just how much fun it was to be Sutton.

 

She passed the Twitter Twins holding court in the kitchen, taking turns telling a juicy story to a group of rapt junior girls. Madeline was draped across Antonio Ramirez’s lap on an overstuffed chair, whispering into his ear. Caroline Ellerby, an overeager freshman, came in the front door holding a tray of premade Jell-O shots. “Want one, Sutton?” she asked with a tentative smile. Emma grabbed a tiny cup of red Jell-O and slurped it carelessly.

 

Her phone kept vibrating in her snakeskin clutch, but she ignored it. It was probably just another text from Ethan saying he was on his way. She didn’t want to see Ethan right now. She didn’t want to talk to him. Or did she? Did she want to talk to him right away so she could tell him just what she thought of his little secret? She shoved the thought away and went back to the bar. Another drink might help her make up her mind.

 

Nisha stood in front of the array of bottles, measuring a precise amount of gin into her glass. She looked up just as Emma stumbled into her, grabbing her to stop her fall. “Whoa, girl. You okay?”

 

“I’m Sutton Mercer,” Emma said, striking a pose. “I am fabulous.” She reached for the vodka, but Nisha took the bottle before she could pour herself another cup.

 

“Slow down there, champ.” Nisha laughed and poured Emma a glass of water instead. “Where’s Ethan? Isn’t he supposed to be here?”

 

Emma sipped the water slowly. The room spun pleasantly, pretty and bright, like a children’s carnival ride. “Who knows? He’s probably watching a meteor shower or something.”

 

Nisha put her hand on Emma’s arm. “Hey, is everything okay with you two?”

 

Maybe it was the alcohol, but before Emma could stop herself, words started spilling out. “Remember how you helped me find that … information about my mom?” Emma whispered. “Well, Ethan had a file in there, too. A huge one.”

 

“Whoa,” Nisha said, her eyes widening. “Have you talked to him about it?”

 

Seeing the alarm on Nisha’s face made Emma’s vision spin even faster, and she suddenly realized what she had done. Yes, Ethan had betrayed her, but that was between him and her. “Forget it. I’m sure it’s nothing,” she mumbled, pushing her way back through the crowd.

 

“Hang on, Sutton,” Nisha called, but Emma kept going until she made it onto the patio. A couple of the boys were playing water volleyball in the pool, wearing nothing but their mesh shorts. Laurel and another girl were sitting by the hot tub, trailing their feet in the water. They beckoned her over, but Emma sank into a chaise longue instead. She leaned back and closed her eyes. When her phone vibrated again, she didn’t even bother checking it.

 

At ten, Poor Tony, the bare-chested DJ Emma had run into earlier, started to play from the upstairs landing. The entryway flooded with screaming partygoers. Emma wandered into the crowd, the heavy bass vibrating through her body like a second heartbeat. She spotted Madeline and started to head in that direction, then realized that Mads was with a boy and probably wouldn’t want to be bothered. She squinted—the boy definitely wasn’t Antonio. Mads moved fast.

 

Emma took a step backward, stumbling right into a tall guy with perfectly gelled blond hair. He gave her a withering look as she caught her balance. Garrett.

 

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