The Lying Game Complete Collection - Sara Shepard Page 0,564

me. I can’t really see her expression, but I can tell by the tear-clogged sniff that she’s really crying hard. “I don’t care about my stupid ankle!” she exclaims suddenly. “Don’t you realize, Sutton? I have no friends. The boy I love is missing, maybe dead in a ditch somewhere, and now I can’t even be in the Lying Game.” She chokes back a sob, leaning against the dusty, cracked plaster of the wall. “Everything in my life is terrible right now. So excuse me if I cry about it for a few minutes. Excuse me if I’m human.”

I shut my eyes, not wanting to see her in such pain. Once again, I hate that I’ve kept Thayer’s calls a secret. I wish I could tell Laurel what I know. Right then, watching her shoulders rack with sobs, I wish I could tell her anything that would make her feel better.

I smooth her hair back from her forehead. Then I hug her, breathing in the smell of her lilac body wash. It’s mine, actually; she pinched it from my toiletries case. “I’ve been a bitch,” I hear myself say, surprising myself.

She looks away from me, tears still shining in her eyes. “I don’t blame you,” she says hoarsely. “I’ve been a bitch, too—and a lame one at that. No wonder everyone likes you better . . . the kids at school, Mads and Char . . . Thayer.”

I flinch with surprise, wondering exactly what she’s saying. “Laurel, that’s not true,” I protest. Not anymore at least.

“Yes, it is!” Laurel cries. She scoots away from me, burying her head in her hands and crying harder. She tightens herself into a ball, arms wrapped around her legs and forehead resting on her knees. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother at all. Everyone would probably be happier if I just disappeared, too.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I never realized Laurel was taking things this hard. I never knew she felt this lonely. Would I rather leave her out of the Lying Game? Yes. But how guilty would I feel for weeks—months—years—if I did? Was it worth it?

A memory washes over me: Laurel and I are in my bedroom, making up a dance we were going to put on for our parents. I can’t remember all the steps, but I remember both of us laughing hysterically at a move where we pretended we were cowgirls twirling invisible lassos. That night, like almost every night when we were that age, Laurel had curled up in my bed beside me, her hand tucked in mine.

And suddenly, I realize that I miss Laurel, too. What changed? Where did it go wrong? Why did it all far apart? In that moment, sitting in the dark with my crying sister, I feel as though I’ve lost something huge, something way more important than my locket. And I don’t even know how to get it back.

Then, just like that, I decide. I reach down, slipping her charm bracelet off my wrist. I unwind her arms from her legs and drop the bracelet into her outstretched hand. “Take it. It’s yours. Pretend you found it first.”

Laurel gazes at me. With her free hand, she wipes her eyes again. “What? Are you serious?”

I grit my teeth, not believing it myself. “Apparently, yes.” I throw my hands up in the air. “Whatever. You can be part of the Lying Game. Okay?”

Laurel sniffs again, a devilish smile spreading across her face. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her cell phone. “I recorded you saying that, you know?”

“Fine, whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t make a huge thing about it.”

“So no take-backs. I have my proof,” Laurel says, starting to get up and shaking out her ankle. I quickly put my shoulder under her arm to take some of her weight.

“Right, I get it. Now let’s get this ankle looked at, okay?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Laurel says as she limps toward the exit of the haunted house. “No pain, no gain, right?”

“I have to admit—recording me was smart.” I glance at her sideways, her bracelet jangling in the silence. “You might be an asset to the group after all.”

“Of course I will be,” she says as we reach the door underneath the neon EXIT sign. “I did learn from the best.”

“Good point,” I say with a smile and, giggling, we push the door open together, the cool night air rushing toward us.

13

SEEING DOUBLE

Even though it’s getting late and we