The Lying Game Complete Collection - Sara Shepard Page 0,117

lights. Outside the window was a stunning view of the Catalina Mountains; Emma could just make out a line of people hiking on one of the upper trails.

“C’mon.” Madeline grabbed a big bowl of popcorn from the kitchen island and padded into the den. Corduroy couches surrounded a large flat-screen TV in the corner. Scattered between wooden wall placards that said things like BLESS OUR HAPPY HOME and WE ARE FAMILY were framed photographs of Madeline and her brother, Thayer.

Emma moved closer to the photos and tried to inspect them without Madeline noticing. There were pictures of Thayer in soccer gear. Thayer standing in front of a local Italian restaurant, pretending to take a big bite out of a large cardboard pizza sign. Thayer standing on top of a mountainous desert rock, dressed in a red T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. The wind blew his black hair into his warm, hazel eyes, and there was a whisper of a smile on his clear-skinned, strong-jawed face. Every shot showed him grinning at the camera except one: a photo taken of the group, going to a prom. Sutton and Garrett stood together, dressed in formal wear. Madeline was with Ryan Jeffries, who Emma recognized from school, and Charlotte was with a dark-haired guy Emma didn’t know. Thayer stood a little off to the side, his arms crossed over his well-fitted tux. His eyes were narrowed and his face was hard, like he was trying to look debonair. Mysterious Boy Disappears Without a Trace, Emma thought, giving the photo a caption.

But something in Thayer’s expression stirred an emotion deep inside of me. Thayer wasn’t trying to look debonair—he was pissed. But what was he pissed about?

Who are you? Emma wished she could ask the boy in the photos. Why did you leave? And why, every time I see a picture you, do I get the chills?

That made two of us.

Madeline aimed the remote at the TV, and Jersey Shore appeared on the screen. She opened a big white binder labeled HALLOWEEN HOMECOMING in bright orange letters. “Okay. Char, are we all set with the decorator?”

“Check.” Charlotte nodded, pulling her light yellow shorts down over her thighs as she sat on the shaggy cream carpet. “Her name’s Calista—my mom’s used her for lots of parties. We’re doing cauldrons, skeletons, werewolves, and a haunted house. The rest of the gym is going to look like MI6 in L.A. Dark and sexy.”

“A perfect place to sneak booze,” Madeline piped up.

“Or a perfect place to hook up with someone who isn’t your date,” Charlotte added. Then she turned to Emma. “Don’t get any ideas, Sutton.”

Emma didn’t bother protesting. Let Charlotte make her jabs; she knew now that they didn’t mean anything.

“Now we need a theme for this court fete,” Laurel said.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “It’s so stupid the court fete has to have a different theme than the dance. Sometimes I want to kill the seniors who came up with that tradition.”

Madeline walked to the window and heaved it open with her long, slender arms. “Oh, let’s just plan it and get it over with. I say it should be something spooky yet glam, but not so glam that the faculty will be pissed and not let us do it.”

Laurel propped her legs up on the coffee table. “What about vampires?”

“Ugh.” Madeline made a face. “I’m tired of vampires.”

“What about a gala event for the dead?” Emma said. “You know, a really fancy party, except everyone invited is a corpse?”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes, thinking.

“Wish you’d thought of it yourself, don’t you, Char?” Emma teased. She knew it was something Sutton would say.

Charlotte just shrugged. “It’s interesting,” she admitted. “But it should be rooted in something real. Not just a party full of dead people.”

A thought popped into Emma’s mind. “What about a fancy ball on the Titanic? Except it can be after the ship sank. So it can be at the bottom of the ocean, and everyone can be a corpse, but they’re still partying in high style. Something Kate Winslet’s character in the movie would’ve approved of.”

Laurel widened her eyes. “I like that!”

“Agreed.” Charlotte clapped her hands. “I bet Calista could rustle up some really good Titanic décor.”

Madeline reached into her pocket and extracted a pack of Parliaments and a pink lighter. A blue spark shot into the air, followed by the heady smell of cigarette smoke. “Anyone want one?” she asked, exhaling out the window.

Everyone shook their heads. “You should stop that, Mads.” Charlotte hugged