“Mom!” Charlotte covered her ears. “TMI!”
Mrs. Chamberlain gave her daughter a dismissive, you’re-such-a-prude hand flutter. Emma wasn’t sure which was more bizarre—that Charlotte’s mother had just announced she was getting a take-it-al -off bikini wax, or that she trusted her makeup needs to Mistress of the Night Helene.
After Mrs. Chamberlain disappeared out the door, Charlotte turned to Helene. “Can I go first? I’m going as an Egyptian goddess, so I need real y dramatic Cleopatra eyes.”
Emma wondered if Sutton would push past Charlotte and demand to go first instead, but she didn’t have the heart to do that.
“Comin’ right up.” Helene opened her giant makeup cases, revealing a bevy of brushes, shadows, powders, mascara wands, and curlers.
As she waited, Emma pul ed Sutton’s phone from her pocket and checked out the Twitter Twins’ secret accounts. There was a new entry.
@MissLiliTal ywhacker: The night we’ve been waiting for . . .
Emma hoped Lili was just talking about her and Gabby’s big night on the court.
But we both knew it meant more than that.
Madeline turned toward the fridge. “Time for
refreshments,” she said, winking at Emma. “Sutton, can you grab some glasses?”
Emma fol owed Madeline, skirting around the behemoth soapstone island, running her fingers along the eerily familiar surface. The last time she’d been in this kitchen, someone had startled her from behind and nearly strangled her. If she squinted, she could see a faint outline of the scuffmark the assailant’s shoe had made on the baseboard when he or she had rammed Emma against the wal . In the oppressive atmosphere, she could almost hear the attacker’s words lingering in the air: I told you to play along. I told you not to leave.
As Emma laid out four glasses on the island, Madeline pul ed a two-liter bottle of Diet Coke from the Chamberlain’s fridge and poured each glass three-quarters ful . Then, raising a finger to her lips, she whipped her silver flask from her pocket and topped the drinks off with rum. Emma’s nose tickled with the cloying scent.
“You’re not making cocktails over there, are you?”
Helene crowed, a giant blush brush in her hand. “If so, can you make me one, too, honey?”
Madeline grinned. “Sure!”
The doorbel rang again. “Sutton, can you get that?”
Charlotte asked, her eyes closed as Helene swept sparkly silver powder over her lids.
Emma wandered down the long hal way lined with modernist photographs of cacti, shadows, and cloudless skies, and pul ed at the ring-shaped knob of the huge door. When she saw the two girls on the porch, a hot, acidic feeling wel ed in her stomach.
“Hel o there, Sutton,” Gabby said, pushing past her. A garment bag was draped over her arm, and she wore her orange silk Homecoming Court sash across her T-shirt.
“What happened with your car? I don’t see it in the driveway,” Lili chirped, clomping into the hal way. She had her sash on, too.
Don’t you already know? Emma wanted to ask, thinking about the lurking figure—or figures—behind Burger King. Perhaps the Twitter Twins had taken Sutton to get her car out on the thirty-first, too. Maybe they even knew where it had ended up.
But instead, Emma told the Twins the same lie she’d told the other girls: “There was a mix-up. Those idiots at the impound lot gave the car to someone else instead. But the cops are on it.”
“Hey, bitches!” Charlotte cal ed from the kitchen before either twin could respond. “Come in and make yourself a drink. We’re in a parent-free zone!”
“I don’t count!” Helene let out a chuckle, which quickly devolved into a coughing fit.
Emma trailed after the Twitter Twins as they glided down the hal . “What are they doing here?” she murmured to Madeline as she crossed into the kitchen.
Madeline took a big swig of her rum and Diet Coke. “It was the least we could do after our botched prank.”
“They should leave,” Emma blurted.
Madeline wiped the condensation from her drink with a pink cocktail napkin and let out a sigh. “Sutton, don’t be like that. It’s not like we’re going to ask them to be part of the Lying Game. Chil .”
“Are you talking about us, Sutton?” Gabby practical y shouted from the kitchen table, fiddling with her phone. Her voice grated on Emma’s nerves, and she felt her fists bal against her sides.
“Only good things,” Madeline tril ed back. She squeezed Emma’s wrist. “Just be nice, okay?”
Charlotte jumped off the chair. Everyone oohed and ahhed over her dramatic Cleopatra eyes, her chiseled cheekbones, and perfect alabaster skin. Madeline climbed into the chair next, topping off her drink with another tip of the flask.
“So, girls.” She looked at the Twitter Twins. “Do you have dates for tonight?”
“We’re both going stag,” Gabby said. Her thumbs dashed over the keys on her phone at breakneck speed.
“But I have my eye on someone.”
“You didn’t tel me that.” Lili’s eyebrow arched. “I do, too!
Who is it?”
Gabby shrugged. “It’s a secret. I don’t want to say anything until I’m sure he’s into me.”
Lili’s mouth became pinched and smal . “Wel , then, I’m not tel ing you who my guy is either.”
Emma watched with curiosity. She’d never seen any tension between the two before now.
“Sutton’s going stag, too,” Laurel piped up, clearly trying to smooth over the sudden mood shift.