“Yeah, but they knew me best,” Emily had snapped. “And if it was really my funeral, with my wishes, you would have let them speak no matter what they had to say.”
Her mother had shrugged and said that was out of the question. And all at once, it had hit Emily. She was out of the question, too—at least in her parents’ eyes. Her parents were so worried about how she appeared to other people—first when Emily wanted to quit swimming, then when she came out to them, and then the domino effect of Ali and A and everything else. They couldn’t even eulogize her properly. They’d been forced to turn her into the perfect little Emily they’d always wanted.
But she wasn’t that Emily, and she never would be. What she had to understand, though, was that her parents weren’t going to change, either. And so she’d let her family go for a while. She would always love them, but it was easier to do so from afar, at least until they came to terms with who she really was. And for now, that was okay. Because she had another family, a real family, people who accepted her no matter what.
Her friends.
Her phone buzzed, and she looked at the screen. I’m out front, Hanna texted. “See you,” Emily said to her mother, grabbing a bagel from the platter and heading out the door.
The December air was crisp, and huge piles of leaves overran the lawn. Emily skipped across the grass to Hanna’s parked Prius. She whooped when she saw Spencer, Aria, and Hanna inside. “Oh my God!” she squealed, yanking open the door.
All three girls inside yelped, too. “You look awesome!” Hanna, who was wearing a short, studded dress she’d designed herself during her first semester at FIT, cried.
“Are you, like, a pro surfer by now, Em?” Aria asked. “When are you going to teach me?”
“Whenever!” Emily lilted, sliding in next to her. “But you have to come visit. It’s been too long.”
It had been too long. In late June, Emily had visited Hanna in L.A., where she was filming Burn It Down, but they hadn’t seen each other since. The northern and southern parts of the state weren’t exactly close. And then the film had wrapped and Hanna and Mike had returned to New York, where Hanna was going to FIT and Mike was finishing up high school, and they were living together in what Hanna claimed was “the cutest West Village one-bedroom you’ve ever seen.” Aria was living in Brooklyn, painting and schmoozing the art gallery circuit and going to Parsons—and Noel was in New York, too, but uptown at Columbia, where he’d walked on to the lacrosse team. Aria and Hanna said that they saw each other, but not as much as they wanted given their grueling school schedules. And Spencer had taken a job at Legal Aid in Philly and was still dating Wren.
Emily had meant to visit all of them in the past six months, but she’d been busy, too. Sure, by most standards she’d been a beach bum, learning how to surf, logging long hours at the shop, doing a few Hurley ads, and giving a few lucrative interviews about her harrowing debacle with Ali. She’d also met a pretty new surfer girl named Laura and . . . and started something, though it was too early yet to tell what. Mostly, Emily had been finding herself. Being truly her, which was something Rosewood had always prevented. Not that she knew that until she left.
“It is so weird to be back in my house,” Hanna moaned as she pulled away from the curb. “My dad keeps calling, like, every hour, wanting to see me. And my mom keeps giving me marriage tips.” She made a face. “Stuff like, ‘Don’t go to bed mad.’”
“It’s weird for me, too!” Aria sighed. “Especially because Mike and I are both gone. Ella is mooning around, moaning that her kids grew up too fast.”
“And doesn’t everything seem so . . . I don’t know, small here?” Emily looked at the houses swishing past. “I don’t remember the Wawa being so teeny-tiny. Even Rosewood Day doesn’t seem as impressive.”
“That’s what happens when you leave somewhere,” Spencer teased, cuffing her playfully on the shoulder.
Hanna drummed on the steering wheel. “Listen, I have everyone booked for hair at eleven and makeup at noon, and then we’ll try on a bunch of dresses my stylist brought in so we look totally and completely fabulous for the event. Okay?”
“You don’t have to do all that, Han,” Aria complained, crossing her slender, leather-clad legs. She was wearing the most fabulous black studded booties Emily had ever seen, and with her new, choppier haircut, she looked like a true New York City artist.
Hanna snickered. “Of course I do. Rosewood’s footing the bill—when they found out we were holding the premiere here, they said they’d pay for everything, including a spa day for all of us.”
“Well, they owe us,” Spencer sing-songed, stifling a giggle.
“Agreed,” Emily said.
Spencer frowned into the rearview mirror. “Shit, guys. I just realized I left my camera at home—I really want to document all of this. Mind if we swing by and grab it?”