to hear.”
Mrs. Mercer hugged her for a moment, then leaned back and looked at the girl she thought was her daughter with surprise. “That’s the first time you’ve ever thanked me for giving you advice.”
“Well, maybe I should have thanked you a long time ago.”
As my mom corralled Drake and led him back up the stairs, I felt a guilty pang. Given what my mother had just said, and what I’d already gleaned about my relationship with my parents, I doubted my mom and I had ever had late-night heart-to-hearts when I was alive. I didn’t value my parents’ opinions at all, and maybe that was a mistake—yet another in a long list of regrets I couldn’t rectify.
I turned my attention back to Emma, who was sitting with her chin cupped in her hand, a distant smile on her face. Even though I knew it was wrong, a bitter edge of resentment flowed through me. Emma was having trouble remembering who she was, but at least she still had a body, an identity. Actually, she had two identities—hers and mine. And now she had to live for the both of us.
22
SEEK AND YE SHALL FIND
For the next two days, Emma tried to stick with her decision, keep her head up, and do random acts of Emma Kindness, even if they weren’t completely Sutton-esque. She retweeted the Twitter Twins’ latest posts about the difficulty of finding clothes worthy of their hotness with an LOL. She complimented Charlotte’s backhand during tennis practice. She even told Nisha Banerjee that her hair tie was cute. Nisha had looked astonished—and a little suspicious—but thanked Emma.
Emma hadn’t had any success with Ethan or Laurel, though. On Wednesday she’d let Laurel have the last pomegranate-flavored yogurt in the fridge compartment in the cafeteria line, knowing it was Laurel’s favorite, but Laurel just grunted and greedily took it. When Emma caught sight of Ethan in the hall, he’d yanked his backpack higher on his shoulder and darted across the hall to avoid her.
On Thursday after tennis practice she scanned the cars in the parking lot and realized that a certain VW wasn’t in its regular parking space. She let out a long groan.
“Laurel ditch you again?” Madeline appeared behind Emma, carrying a stack of books. Her blue eyes were bright and feather earrings grazed her shoulders.
“Yep,” Emma said, unable to hide her irritation. “She’s being a real bitch this week.”
Madeline let out the first real laugh Emma had heard from her in weeks. “She sure is.” She touched Emma’s elbow. “Don’t worry. She’ll get over it. I did.”
Two freshman boys passed behind her, clutching Roller-blades and elbowing each other. One caught Emma’s eye and his face broke into a massive grin. He nodded in her direction and picked up his hand in a slow wave. Emma smiled back in another act of Emma Kindness.
Madeline pulled her car keys out of her leather purse. “Want a ride home?”
Emma eyed Madeline’s keychain. “Actually I’m just going to the police station. I’m going to finally get my car.”
Madeline flinched a little at the words police station, then frowned. “Isn’t it at the impound?”
A dart of nerves shot through Emma’s stomach. Sutton’s friends thought that her car had been impounded because she racked up too many tickets and she simply hadn’t picked it up yet. They didn’t know Sutton had retrieved her car the day she died. Or used it to pick up Thayer. Or perhaps hit Thayer with it.
“Uh, the impound was full, so they moved it to the lot behind the police station,” Emma fudged, crossing her fingers that Madeline would buy it. She hated lying, but she wasn’t about to say that Sutton’s car was actually in evidence with Madeline’s brother’s blood on it. Luckily, Madeline just shrugged and unlocked her SUV with two loud bleeps.
“Get in. I’ll save you the two-block walk.”
Emma climbed in, resting her bag on her lap.
“So, excited for Charlotte’s tomorrow?” Madeline asked as she turned the ignition. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a dinner at the Chamberlains’. I’ve missed Cornelia’s cooking. Wouldn’t it be amazing to have a personal chef?”
Emma made an mm of agreement, remembering that the girls had arranged to spend the evening at Charlotte’s for dinner. She wasn’t surprised the Chamberlains had a personal chef—their house was enormous.
“Of course, I shouldn’t say that.” Madeline made a wry face. “If my dad heard me talking about how much I wanted a personal chef, he’d probably say I was acting spoiled