Suddenly, something across the pool caught her eye. It was a piece of paper taped to the wall. It hadn’t been there before halftime. And it looked familiar. Like a photo.
She squinted. Her heart dropped to her knees. It was a photo…of two people kissing in a photo booth. In Noel Kahn’s photo booth.
“Oh my God.” Emily ran across the natatorium, sliding twice on the wet pool deck.
“Emily!” Aria ran toward her from the side entrance, her suede platform boots clomping against the tile and her blue-black hair flapping wildly all over her face. “I’m sorry I’m late, but can we talk?”
Emily didn’t answer Aria. Someone had placed a Xerox of the kissing photo next to the big marker board that listed who was swimming in what race. Her whole team would see it. But would they know it was her?
She tore the Xerox off the wall. On the bottom, in big black letters, it said, LOOK WHAT EMILY FIELDS HAS BEEN PRACTICING WHEN SHE’S NOT IN THE POOL!
Well, that cleared that up.
Aria leaned over and examined the photo. “Is that…you?”
Emily’s chin trembled. She crumpled up the paper in her hands, but when she looked around, she saw another copy sitting on top of someone’s gear bag, a fold already down the center. She grabbed it and crumpled it up, too.
Then she saw another copy lying on the ground near the tub of kickboards. And another one…in Coach Lauren’s hands. Lauren looked from the picture to Emily, from Emily to the picture. “Emily?” she said quietly.
“This can’t be happening,” Emily whispered, raking her hand through her wet hair. She glanced over at the wire-mesh wastebasket near Lauren’s office. There were at least ten discarded pictures of her kissing Maya at the bottom. Someone had thrown a half-drunk can of Sunkist on top. The liquid had oozed out, coloring their faces orange. There were more near the water fountains. And taped up to the racing lane storage wheel. Her teammates, who were all filtering out from the locker rooms, gave her uneasy looks. Her ex-boyfriend, Ben, smirked at her, as if to say, Your little lesbo experiment isn’t so fun now, huh?
Aria picked up a copy that had seemingly fluttered down from the ceiling. She squinted and pursed her shiny, strawberry-red lips together. “So what? You’re kissing someone.” Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
Emily let out a helpless eep.
“Did A do this?” Aria whispered.
Emily looked around frantically. “Did you see who was giving these out?” But Aria shook her head. Emily unzipped the pouch to her swim bag and found her cell phone. There was a text. Of course there was a text.
Emily, sweetie, I know you’re all about tit for tat, so when you made plans to out me, I decided to out you too. Kisses!
—A
“Damn,” Aria whispered, reading the text over Emily’s shoulder.
A sickening thought suddenly hit Emily. Her parents. That paper they were looking at—it wasn’t the heat sheet. It was the photo. She glanced over at the stands. Sure enough, her parents were staring at her. They looked like they were about to cry, their faces red and nostrils flared.
“I have to get out of here.” Emily searched for the nearest exit.
“No way.” Aria grabbed Emily’s wrist and spun her around. “This is nothing to be ashamed of. If someone says something, screw ’em.”
Emily sniffed. People might call Aria weird, but she was normal. She had a boyfriend. She would never know what this felt like.
“Emily, this is our opportunity!” Aria protested. “A is probably here.” She looked menacingly into the bleachers.
Emily peeked over at the stands again. Her parents still wore the same angry and hurt expressions. Maya’s spot was now empty. Emily scanned the length of the stands for her, but Maya was gone.
A was probably up there. And Emily wished she was brave enough to climb up into the bleachers and shake everyone until someone confessed. But she couldn’t.
“I…I’m sorry,” Emily said abruptly, and ran for the locker room. She passed the hundred or so people who now knew what she was really like, trampling over copies of her and Maya on the way.
11
EVEN HIGH-TECH SECURITY DOESN’T PROTECT YOU FROM EVERYTHING
Moments later, Aria pushed through the fogged-up double doors of Rosewood Day’s natatorium and joined Spencer and Hanna, who were talking quietly by the vending machines. “Poor Emily,” Hanna whispered to Spencer. “Did you know about…this?”
Spencer shook her head. “No idea.”
“Remember when we snuck into the Kahns’ pool when they were on vacation and went skinny-dipping?” Hanna murmured. “Remember all the times we changed in dressing rooms together? I never felt weird.”
“Me neither,” Aria piped up, ducking out of the way so a freshman boy could get a soda out of the Coke machine.
“Do you think she thought any of us were cute?” Hanna widened her eyes. “But I was so fat back then,” she added, sounding a little disappointed.
“A passed around those flyers,” Aria said to Hanna and Spencer. She pointed toward the pool. “A might be here.”
They all peered into the natatorium. Competitors stood on the blocks, waiting. The hammerhead shark mascot paraded up and down the length of the pool. The stands were still packed. “What are we supposed to do about it?” Hanna asked, narrowing her eyes. “Stop the meet?”
“We shouldn’t do anything.” Spencer zipped up her khaki Burberry anorak to her chin. “If we look for A, A might get mad…and do something worse.”