Garrett’s shoulders crunched up and then relaxed again. “Charlotte and I are better off as friends. She knows that.”
He pulls up alongside the curb in front of my house and shifts the car into park. Unfastening his seat belt, he turns to me. “So . . . bye,” he says, his voice husky.
“Bye,” I say, but I don’t move. I take in his bright, warm expression and the sparkle in his eyes. I grin, then lean in and kiss him lightly on the lips. The kiss is soft, calm, warm.
There aren’t any fireworks or that fizzy champagne feeling I always had when I kissed Thayer. Still, a tiny frisson of excitement blooms in my chest.
The excitement lasts as long as it takes for me to step out of Garrett’s car and onto the stone-lined path to my front door. And then, as his car growls off, the floodlights on our porch click on, illuminating Madeline and Charlotte. Charlotte’s arms are crossed at her chest and Madeline’s hip is cocked. Their expressions are stony.
And just like that, I know I’m in trouble.
4
WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS STAYS IN THE HANDBOOK
Charlotte exhales heavily, and Madeline’s Prada stitched ballet flats scrape the wide terra-cotta stones of my front doorstep. Cicadas chirp an accusing, rhythmic chorus.
“What up, bitches?” I say breezily.
Madeline arches an eyebrow and purses her lips and I flush briefly. I can swagger all I want, but I did just kiss my friend’s ex. Still, she said she was over him. She said I could go out with him. I don’t deserve this kind of attitude.
“We’re glad you’re home from your date.” Madeline snarls slightly on the word date. “We wanted to talk.”
“Okay.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Talk.”
Madeline puts her hands on her slender hips and fixes her blazing sapphire eyes on me. “We want to initiate a new member into the Lying Game.”
I take a step back, certain at first that I’ve heard her incorrectly. “Um, ladies, you know we’re an exclusive club.” The Lying Game is three people: Charlotte, Madeline, and me. That’s the way it’s been since we created it in junior high. “Did you actually have someone in mind?”
Charlotte steps forward, close enough that I can smell her Chanel Chance. “Laurel.”
I burst out laughing. Laurel playing buddy-buddy with my friends is one thing, but joining the Lying Game? Never. “Good one, guys. Nice. Laurel. Right.” I shake my head. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m tired.” I reach an impatient arm out to the doorknob.
But Mads and Char don’t budge. Their expressions are resolute, unchanging. Slowly, it sinks in. “Wait, you’re serious?” I blurt, my voice cracking more than I want it to.
Madeline twirls a lock of ebony hair around her index finger. “We think she’d be an asset to the group. And have a heart, Sutton—she’s beside herself about Thayer. We should do something nice for her, don’t you think?”
I want to roll my eyes. Once again, Laurel gets to milk this whole “Thayer’s gone” thing to the hilt while I have to endure the pain quietly. “Do something nice, yes,” I argue. “But not ruin our club to let her in.”
“We wouldn’t be ruining anything,” Madeline says. “And anyway, Laurel has proven herself. She helped with that Christmas prank, remember?”
I stare at them in disbelief. “Yeah, because that was my Christmas present to her. It wasn’t an invitation to the group.” Laurel had been begging to be part of the Lying Game practically since its inception, and I’d finally thrown her a bone and let her help us steal the Christmas tree from La Encantada Mall. It wasn’t even a particularly good prank, but Laurel acted like it was the cleverest thing in the world.
Then I turn toward Charlotte, realizing something. “Is this your way of getting back at me for going out with Garrett tonight? You said you were okay with it.”
Charlotte shrugs and turns away, her auburn ponytail smacking her in the face. All of a sudden, I can see she’s totally not okay.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I say. “But that doesn’t make it okay to let Laurel in.”
“She’s being a really good friend right now,” Charlotte says simply.
She doesn’t elaborate. It seems that, in what she’s left out, she’s implying I’ve been a bad friend. I consider protesting about Garrett once more, but I’m not sure there’s much use.
Then I whirl toward Madeline. “And why would you be mad at me?”
Mads just stares at me and suddenly my palms begin to tingle. What if she knows I spoke to Thayer during the search party . . . but didn’t bother to mention that he was okay? The only way she could know that, though, is if Thayer called and told her himself. But why would he sell me out that way?
“I’m not mad at you, Sutton,” Madeline says in a clipped voice after a moment. “Like I said, I just think Laurel would be a good asset to the club.”
“Well, I don’t,” I say. “And as the Lying Game leader, what I say goes.”
Madeline raises a finger. “Not this time. I’m invoking the Sudden Death Clause.”