Sara Shepard - Stunning

Spencer opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Infuriatingly, she couldn’t think of a single reason Reefer would understand. Even worse, maybe he was right—maybe she did want an automatic clique. Maybe she wanted to impress her parents, Mr. Pennythistle, Amelia, Melissa, and everyone at Rosewood Day who didn’t believe in her. But Reefer had made it sound like wanting those things was shallow and unadventurous. He painted her as an eager, insecure little girl, only wanting to make Mommy and Daddy happy, not thinking for herself.

“Where do you get off?” she sputtered, facing Reefer. “What makes you so high and mighty? What about Princeton itself? They only admit a few people while rejecting plenty of others. You have no problem with being part of that !”

“Who says I don’t have a problem with it?” Reefer said quietly. “You really shouldn’t—”

“Judge a book by its cover, I got it,” Spencer snapped angrily. “Maybe you should listen to your own advice.” She fished in her wallet and flung two twenties at Reefer for the pot. He stared at them as though they were coated in anthrax. Then she marched out of the house, slamming the front door behind her.

The cold air was a welcome greeting on her hot skin. Her jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly. Why did she even care what Reefer thought? It wasn’t like they were friends. Still, she glanced up at his bedroom window. The blinds weren’t parted and Reefer wasn’t looking forlornly out, begging her forgiveness. Jerk.

Rolling back her shoulders, she stomped down the steps and pulled out her cell phone to call the cab company to take her back to the motel. Her eyes watered, and she drew back and sniffed the phone’s leather case. It smelled like the pot Reefer had given her. She wrinkled her nose, cursing the odor. It no longer smelled of sweet, tangy orange peels. Maybe it never had.

On Saturday evening, Emily scurried down the street in Old Hollis, the commercial district next to the college that boasted bars, restaurants, funky T-shirt shops, and a psychic who read tarot cards. A neon sign in the shape of an ice cream cone swung from an awning ahead, and her stomach did a nervous flip. She was on her way to hang out with Isaac again, and even though her secret weighed heavily on her, the buzzy, giddy feeling she’d had since she last saw him hadn’t ceased.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Isaac since their dinner. The way he’d hung on her words, the way he’d stood up for her in front of his mom—he seemed older, somehow, really mature.

“Emily?”

She stared across the dark street. A figure in a blue checked coat was waving at her from Snooker’s, a college bar with Eagles pennants and Pabst Blue Ribbon lamps. He had a wrist brace on his hand and spiky dark hair. When he called her name again, Emily recognized the voice immediately. It was Derrick, her closest friend from the summer.

“Oh my God,” Emily yelped, crossing the street. A driver honked angrily as he swerved to avoid her. “What are you doing here?” she called gleefully to Derrick.

“Taking some classes at Hollis.” Derrick grabbed Emily and engulfed her in a huge hug. He looked her up and down. “Man, you look a little different since I saw you last. What happened to you, anyway? You fell off the face of the earth! We were supposed to hang out back in the summer, but you never showed. Never called, either.”

Emily stared down at her sneakers, feeling ashamed. She’d ditched Derrick the day she’d overheard Gayle saying that she was the one who was pregnant. She’d meant to call him later with an update, but she hadn’t gotten around to it. She thought she’d see him at the restaurant, but their schedules had never matched up. A week passed, then another, and suddenly it felt weird to call him. Too much had happened. There was too much to explain.

Derrick leaned in closer, giving Emily a concerned look. “How did everything go with the baby?”

“ Shhh .” Emily looked around, terrified one of the passersby on the busy street might hear. “No one knows about that. Especially my parents.”

Derrick’s eyebrows shot up. “You still haven’t told them?”

Emily shook her head. “I didn’t have to.”

“So I guess you didn’t keep it, then.” Derrick twisted his mouth. “And I know you didn’t give it to Gayle.” He looked wounded. “You know, I should be mad at you. You got me in some deep shit with that woman.”

Emily shivered at the sound of Gayle’s name. “What do you mean?”

“About two weeks after you ditched me, she found me in her garden shed and told me you went back on your word. She was unhinged. She thought I had something to do with it, helped you escape or something. She started throwing stuff at me—a bag of birdseed, a rake, then a shovel. She broke a window—it was insane. I tried to tell her I had no idea what she was talking about, but she didn’t believe me.” He bit his lip. “I’d never seen her so . . . violent.”

Emily covered her mouth with her hands. She thought of A’s last note, which all but spelled out how Gayle was searching for the baby. What did Gayle have planned when she found her? Was she going to take her away from the Bakers? And exactly what role was A playing in it all?

Emily felt a presence beside her and looked up. Standing opposite Derrick, with a strange look on his face, was Isaac. “H-hey,” he said cautiously. His eyes flickered to Derrick, then back to her.

“Oh!” Emily blurted a little too loudly. “Isaac! Hey!” She gestured to Derrick. “This is my friend, Derrick. Derrick, this is, uh, Isaac.”

Derrick’s eyes widened. “ Isaac? ” Emily remembered that one night last summer, she’d admitted Isaac’s name to Derrick.

“W-we should get going,” Emily said, inserting herself between the two boys. She knew Derrick wouldn’t say anything, but this was just too weird.

“We should finish catching up sometime,” Derrick said, patting Emily on the shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Uh huh,” Emily said quickly, taking Isaac’s arm and hurrying down the street. “Great to see you, Derrick! Bye!” She felt bad for ditching Derrick again, but she didn’t dare turn around.

They passed a retro toy store, a bank, and an empty storefront before Isaac cleared his throat. “So who was that?”

“Derrick?” Emily chirped innocently, pushing into the ice cream shop. The bells on the door chimed cheerfully. “Oh, he’s just a friend I met last summer in Philly.”

Then she gazed hard at the menu board above the counter and started to ramble. “So what are you going to get? I hear the cherry vanilla is really good. Or, ooh, look! Organic rocky road!” If she kept talking, she figured, Isaac wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise.

“Emily.”

She looked up guiltily. In the bright light of the ice cream parlor, Isaac’s eyes looked bluer than ever. He fiddled with a string bracelet around his wrist. “Are you sure you’re all right? You seem really freaked.”

“Of course I’m all right!” Emily said, knowing her voice sounded high-pitched and strange.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Isaac said, “but did that Derrick guy do something to you? It seemed like you couldn’t wait to get away from him.”

Emily searched his face. “Oh my God, no .” It was so funny that she burst out laughing. If only it was that simple.

The line shifted, and Emily and Isaac moved closer to the register. “I care about you, that’s all. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Emily kept her gaze fixed on the chrome ice cream scoops behind the counter, her heart breaking from Isaac’s kindness. She wanted him to care about her. “He’s just an old friend I confided in a lot about Ali—that’s probably what you were sensing,” she said haltingly. “There’s nothing weird going on. I promise.”