Secrets and Lies(44)

She found her phone and scrolled to her new text message. She couldn’t help wishing it would be from Guinness, reaching out to her at last. But more likely it was from Tenley or Emerson, giving their harass-Sydney-into-joining-us ploy another go.

It was neither. Blocked. Her heart rate spiked. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Calum wasn’t on his way back. Holding her breath, she clicked open the text.

Tonight’s the night, Syd! It’s do or die… and I expect you to be there to hear the results.

Sydney’s breath came out in a long rush. She stared blindly at the text, unable to tear her eyes away. Only the sound of Calum’s footsteps finally pulled her out of her trance. She deleted the message just as he returned, carrying a turquoise dress on a hanger. Sydney’s eyes popped at the sight of it. It was gorgeous: one shouldered and floor-length, and crisscrossed with filmy layers of turquoise tulle. “What do you think?” Calum asked. He sounded almost shy as he held it out to her.

“It’s… beautiful,” Sydney said honestly. Her heart was still racing from the text as she took the dress from him. The material was silky in her hands. She whistled when she saw the label on the tag. VERA WANG. “Why do you have this?”

“It was my sister’s,” Calum said. “She bought it for her prom, but…” He hesitated. “She never got to wear it.”

Sydney gingerly turned the dress over, admiring its back. The tulle dipped low, and beneath it was a line of tiny turquoise buttons. “You kept it all these years?”

“My dad doesn’t get rid of anything of theirs,” Calum said quietly. It was the first time Sydney had ever heard him talk about his family’s past. It made him sound different, like he’d aged ten years. “He left everything exactly how it was. My sister’s bedroom, my mom’s art studio in the basement. Personally, I think it keeps him from moving on, but he refuses to hear it. Which is why I’ve contemplated signing him up for that reality show The Life of Hoarders.” Calum smiled, and just like that, he was his old, goofy self again. “He’s like their dream case. But until then, I figure we might as well make use of his compulsive behavior, right?” He gave the dress a loving pat. “Besides, someone should get a chance to wear it. And who better than a girl with turquoise eyes?”

Sydney’s stomach lurched. The idea of wearing Meryl Bauer’s dress—a Lost Girl’s dress—gave her a horrible, sinking feeling, as if she’d be climbing into the skin of a ghost. “I—I don’t think it’s a good idea, Calum.”

“Uh, uh.” Calum crossed his arms against his chest. A curl slipped into his face. He reminded her of a little boy about to throw a tantrum. “A deal’s a deal. We’re going to that dance, and unless you have something better than this at home, you’re wearing the dress.”

Sydney nervously twisted her ring, picturing the contents of her closet. She was pretty sure jeans and a flannel shirt didn’t constitute better.

“That’s what I thought,” Calum said smugly. “Besides… it really would be nice to see someone wear it.” He looked at her with such sad eyes that Sydney’s heart wrenched.

“All right,” she relented. She didn’t seem to have another choice.

“Score!” Calum cheered. He broke back into his lopsided grin. “It looks like you’re going to homecoming, Syd.”

In her head, Sydney saw Abby’s text again. It’s do or die. The words slammed into her with the weight of a speeding train.

“Looks like I am,” she said. She pulled her phone back out and opened a text to Tenley and Emerson. Change of plans: I’m in. Let’s end this tonight.





CHAPTER NINETEEN


Saturday, 1:35 PM


Emerson twisted through the air, barely recognizing the cheer she was chanting. It was the big intermission finale at the homecoming game and all she could think about was Abby. And Josh.

She’d kissed Josh at the club. She’d fooled Abby with her e-mail.

Abby-Josh-Josh-Abby-Kissed-Fooled. She was a human yo-yo.

She landed unsteadily on the grass, just managing to catch her balance. The sidelines loomed ahead of her, a haze of green. By her side, the other cheerleaders pumped their pom-poms and shouted their cheers, their voices circling the air.

“Go,” Jessie murmured next to her. It was time for their final combination. “Now!” They both took off running down the sidelines.

Abby-Josh-Josh-Abby.

Kissed. Fooled. Fooled. Kissed.

The field was fuzzy, the crowd an assault of voices. Next to Emerson, Jessie picked up speed, sprinting full force.

Emerson’s head was on overload. Was takeoff on her right leg or her left?

Abby-Josh-Josh-Abby.

She had to focus! If she didn’t clear her mind, she’d never land this combo. She ran faster, matching Jessie’s pace.

Right leg or left?

Panic seized her. She couldn’t remember. Abby’s smug smile flashed through her mind. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To destroy everything—until they had nothing left.

Well, they weren’t going to let her. Not anymore. They had a plan.

Voices thundered, roaring in her ears. Jessie pounded next to her. “Now!” she hissed.

They threw themselves into their side-by-side double-handspring-double-tuck combo.

Emerson wrenched her way through one handspring, then another. She was a beat off, but she kept going. She wouldn’t let Abby ruin this. Time seemed to slow as she threw herself into the double tuck, the hardest move attempted by the cheer squad. She cycled once. Wind sliced at her from every side. One and a half. Her hair whipped into her face. Twice.

She hit the ground a second after Jessie, just barely sticking her landing. The impact stole her breath away as she forced her arms into the air. She’d done it. Sloppily, but she’d done it.

She was in charge now. Abby wasn’t going to win.

In the stands the crowd went wild. Next to her, Jessie jumped up and down like a squawking monkey. Normally, Emerson would have been right there with her, but her mind was already swan-diving back to their plan for Abby. Tonight they were going to beat her at her own game.

As the football team jogged back onto the field, Emerson scanned the bleachers, searching for Miss Purity herself. Instead, her gaze landed on Tenley. Tenley had been a wreck when she called Emerson that morning to fill her in on Guinness’s overdose and finding Abby’s scarf. The memory made Emerson feel more determined than ever. She scanned harder, searching for Abby’s head of mousy brown hair. She wanted to see her for herself: one last time before they squashed her like a bug tonight.

She had to be there somewhere. Abby Wilkins never missed a school function. She was always front and center, cheering on the basketball team/debate squad/academic decathlon team. She’d even shown up at last year’s regional cheerleading competition. Emerson’s friends used to joke that it would go on her tombstone one day: PERFECT ATTENDANCE TO EVERYTHING! “The next thing she’ll be attending is her own trial,” Emerson muttered under her breath. But as hard as she looked, Emerson didn’t see Abby anywhere. She twisted around, locking eyes with Tenley. “Where is she?” she mouthed.

Tenley was holding her phone in her lap, clutched tightly in her fist. She shook her head and shrugged.

A cold shiver ran through Emerson as she turned back to the football field. Her body went automatically through the motion of the cheers, but her mind was far away. Abby would never miss a homecoming game—not unless she had a really good reason. Like being too busy plotting their demise.

It didn’t matter, Emerson reminded herself. Whatever Abby had up her sleeve, she would never get to act on it. By the time she tried, it would be too late.

For the thousandth time since they’d found Abby’s name on the Vault receipt, Emerson wondered what she’d done to make Abby hate her this much. Was it just because she’d been close with Caitlin? She planned on asking Abby that very question soon. Once she was safely locked away.

Before Emerson knew it Jessie was leading the squad into the final countdown cheer. The familiar words, chanted by the cheerleaders at the end of every game, shook Emerson back to the present. She’d barely even noticed the second half of the game passing. Her eyes went to the scoreboard as she helped lift Jane Rossi into a basket toss. Seventeen to twenty and forty-eight seconds on the clock. At this point, Echo Bay’s only shot at winning was a touchdown.

Emerson shook her pom-poms, launching into the final refrains of the cheer. “We’re the Lions, see our claws! We’ll bare our fangs and snap our jaws! When we roar, our team will soar! And when it’s all done, we’ll have won!”

On the field, the ball was snapped to Hunter, who was in shotgun position. The defense started to swarm, but Hunter quickly dodged a tackle and took off running full speed for the end zone. All around Emerson, people applauded and cheered. She tried to get amped up as she screamed along with the rest of the squad, urging Hunter on. It was her favorite part of a game: how energy seemed to spark in the air as the squad’s voices rose together—no longer a patchwork, but a crescendo, a roar. It usually made her feel so alive. But this time, as Hunter scored the winning touchdown and the crowd went ballistic and she jumped into a flawless toe touch, her thoughts stayed on one thing and one thing only. Getting Abby tonight.