“May I be excused?” Laurel asked, even though a whole waffle remained on her plate.
“Sure,” Mrs. Mercer said distractedly, her eyes still on her husband’s face.
Emma jumped up, too. “I have German homework,” she said. “Might as well get an early start on it.” This was something Sutton clearly wouldn’t say, but she was eager for the escape. She carried her dish to the sink and kept her head pointedly down as Laurel brushed past. Laurel muttered something under her breath. Emma was almost positive it was bitch.
When she passed by the table again, on her way toward the hall, she felt Mr. Mercer’s eyes on her. He was giving her such a suspicious stare that a sharp pain shot through Emma’s stomach. Suddenly, her mind flashed back to the look Mr. Mercer and Thayer had exchanged the previous night. Was it just her imagination, or did something big happen between them? Did they have some sort of … history together? Did Mr. Mercer know something about Thayer—something potentially dangerous—that he wasn’t letting on about?
I had to agree—my dad definitely knew something about Thayer. As I followed Emma up the stairs, I caught a glimpse of the mountains outside the window, and two puzzle pieces connected for a brief moment in my mind. I saw spidery branches casting shadows across the packed earth while sticky, late summer air clung to my bare legs. I saw Thayer keeping pace at my side, sliding his arm through mine as we navigated a rocky path in the twilight. I saw him opening his mouth to speak, but the memory scattered before I could hear what he’d been about to say.
But maybe, just maybe, it had been something I hadn’t wanted to hear.
3
EVERYONE LOVES A
POET
Later that evening, Emma made her way to the local park.
Even though it was dusk, there were still lots of people jogging on the dirt paths that wound up toward the mountains, cooking burgers on the public grills, and roughhousing with their dogs on the grass. A radio was playing a Bruno Mars song, and a bunch of kids were splashing each other with water from a fountain.
Just seeing that park made me ache. It was only a few blocks away from my house, and even though I couldn’t remember specifics, I knew I’d spent lots of time here.
What I wouldn’t give to dip my fingers into the cool water of that fountain or bite into a juicy burger hot off the gril —even if it did go straight to my thighs.
There was still a basketball game raging, but all of the tennis courts were dark. Emma walked to the very last one and pushed open the creaky gate. She could just make out a figure lying on the ground near the net. Her heart swelled.
It was Ethan.
“hello?” Emma whispered.
Ethan jumped to his feet and walked toward her, his stride even and calm. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his worn Levi’s. A tissue-thin T-shirt clung to his strong arms. “Hey,” he said. Even in the dark she could tell he was grinning. “Did you sneak out?”
Emma shook her head. “I didn’t have to. The Mercers lifted my punishment—I guess all the homework I’ve been doing changed their minds. But Mr. Mercer asked me a million questions about where I was going.” She glanced over her shoulder at the dark trees beyond. “It’s a wonder he didn’t follow me. Then again, I guess I should be grateful.
Nobody’s ever cared enough to know where I was at all times.” She laughed halfheartedly.
“Not even Becky?” Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.
Emma gazed out at the twisted trees beyond the court.
“Becky left me at a convenience store once, remember?
She wasn’t exactly a model parent.” She felt guilty for trashing her mother. She had some good memories of Becky—like the time she had let Emma dress up in a silky slip and play Snow White around their hotel room, or the many nights Becky had set up treasure hunts for her—but they’d never make up for how she had abandoned Emma when she needed her most.
“Well, I’m glad you made it,” Ethan said, changing the subject.
“Me too,” Emma answered.
She met his eyes for a brief moment. There was a long pause, and they both looked down. Emma kicked a loose tennis ball near the net. Ethan jingled change in his pockets. Then he reached out and took her hand. She caught the scent of his spicy aftershave as he leaned in close. “Lights on or off?” he asked. The tennis courts had manual lights—seventy-five cents for every thirty minutes.
“Off,” Emma answered, excitement flooding her body.
Ethan tugged her down until they were both lying on the cement. The ground was still warm from the day’s heat, and it smelled vaguely of tar and rubber sneakers. Above them, a silvery moon shone. An owll flapped to a high tree branch.
“I can’t believe Thayer broke into your house,” Ethan said after a beat, holding her close. “Are you okay?” Emma rested her cheek against his chest, feeling suddenly exhausted. “I’m better now.”
“So did Thayer sneak in to see Sutton?”
Emma pulled back and sighed. “I guess so. Unless …”
“Unless what?”
“Unless Thayer knows who I really am and came to remind me to stay in line.” Just saying the words aloud made Emma shiver.
Ethan hugged his knees to his chest. “You think Thayer killed Sutton?”
“It’s definitely possible. He’s the only one of her friends we haven’t been able to investigate. What do you think was going on between Sutton and Thayer before he ran away?” Emma placed her palm flat on the asphalt, feeling its heat.