“Catwoman,” Trista answered promptly. “You?”
Emily looked away. Right now, she kind of felt like a witch. After Trista surprised Emily in the yearbook room, she’d explained that since her father was a pilot with US Air, she got big discounts even on last-minute flights. After Emily’s text yesterday, she’d decided to hop on a flight, accompany Emily to Hanna’s masquerade party, and camp out on Emily’s bedroom floor. Emily didn’t quite know how to say, “You shouldn’t have come”…and didn’t quite want to, either.
“When’s your friend meeting us?” Trista asked.
“Um, she’s probably already here.” Emily started across the parking lot, passing eight BMW 7 Series cars in a row.
“Cool.” Trista spread ChapStick over her lips. She passed it to Emily, and their fingers lightly touched. Emily felt tingles run through her, and when she met Trista’s eyes, the amorous look on Trista’s face indicated she was thinking equally tingly thoughts.
Emily stopped short next to the valet stand. “Listen. I have a confession to make. Maya is sort of my girlfriend.”
Trista stared at her blankly.
“And I kind of told her—and my parents—that you’re my pen pal,” Emily went on. “That we’ve been writing for a few years.”
“Oh, really?” Trista nudged her playfully. “Why didn’t you just tell her the truth?”
Emily swallowed, crushing a few dried, fallen leaves under her toe. “Well…I mean, if I told her what really happened…in Iowa…she might not get it.”
Trista smoothed down her hair with her hands. “But nothing did happen. We just danced.” She poked Emily in the arm. “Geez, is she that possessive?”
“No.” Emily stared at the Halloween scarecrow display on the country club’s front lawn. It was one of three scarecrows around the grounds, and yet a crow was perched on a nearby flagpole, not one bit frightened. “Not exactly.”
“Is it a problem that I’m here?” Trista asked pointedly.
Trista’s lips were the exact same pink as Emily’s favorite tutu back when she’d taken ballet. Her pale blue shift dress pulled against her shapely chest and showed the flatness of her stomach and the roundness of her butt. She was like a ripe, juicy fruit, and Emily sort of wanted to bite her. “Of course it’s not a problem you’re here,” Emily breathed.
“Good.” Trista pulled her mask over her face. “Then I’ll keep your secret.”
Once they entered the tent, Maya found Emily immediately, untied her rabbit-shaped mask, and pulled Emily close for an extra-passionate kiss. Emily opened her eyes in the middle of it, and noticed that Maya was staring directly at Trista, seemingly flaunting what she and Emily were doing. “When are you going to ditch her?” Maya whispered in Emily’s ear. Emily looked away, pretending she hadn’t heard.
As they moved through the party tent, Trista kept grabbing Emily’s arm and gasping, “It’s so beautiful! Look at all the pillows!” And, “There are so many hot guys in Pennsylvania!” And, “So many girls here wear diamonds!” Her mouth fell open like a little kid’s on her first trip to Disney World. When a crowd of kids at the bar separated them, Maya pulled off her mask.
“Was that girl raised in a hermetically sealed terrarium?” Maya’s eyes bugged out. “Honestly, why does she find everything so amazing?”
Emily glanced at Trista as she leaned up against the bar. Noel Kahn had approached her and was now seductively running his hand up and down Trista’s arm. “She’s just excited to be here,” she mumbled. “Things are pretty boring in Iowa.”
Maya cocked her head and stood back. “It’s quite a coincidence that you have a pen pal in the exact same Iowa town you were banished to last week.”
“Not really,” Emily croaked, staring at the shimmering disco ball in the middle of the tent. “She’s from the same town as my cousins, so Rosewood Day did an exchange with her school. We started writing a couple years ago.”
Maya mushed her lips together, her jaw tense. “She’s awfully pretty. Did you pick pen pals by their pictures?”
“It wasn’t, like, Match.com.” Emily shrugged, trying to act oblivious.
Maya gave her a knowing look. “It would make sense if you did. You loved Alison DiLaurentis, and Trista looks a lot like her.”
Emily tensed up, her eyes flicking back and forth. “No, she doesn’t.”
Maya looked away. “Whatever.”
Emily considered her next words very carefully. “That banana gum you chew, Maya. Where do you get it?”
Maya looked confused. “My father brought me a carton from London.”
“Can you get it in the States? Do you know anyone else who chews it?” Emily’s heart pounded.
Maya stared at her. “Why the hell are you asking me about banana gum?” Before Emily could answer, Maya turned away. “Look, I’m going to go to the bathroom, okay? Don’t go anywhere without me. We can talk when I get back.”
Emily watched Maya snake through the baccarat tables, feeling like she had hot coals in her stomach. Almost immediately, Trista emerged from the crowd, holding three plastic cups. “They’re spiked,” she whispered excitedly, pointing to Noel, who was still standing by the bar. “That boy had a flask of something and gave me some.” She looked around. “Where’s Maya?”
Emily shrugged. “Off being pissy.”
Trista had removed her mask, and her skin glowed in the flashing dance floor lights. With her pursed, pink lips, her wide, blue eyes, and high cheekbones, maybe she did look a little like Ali. Emily shook her head and reached for one of the cups—she would drink this first, figure out everything else later. Trista’s finger ran seductively down Emily’s wrist. Emily tried to keep her face impassive, even though she felt like she was about to melt.
“So, if you were a color right now, what color would you be?” Trista whispered.
Emily looked away.
“I’d be red,” Trista whispered. “But…not a mad red. Like a deep, dark, beautiful sexy red. A lusty red.”
“I think I’d be that color, too,” Emily admitted.
The music thumped like a pulse. Emily took a long, needy drink, her nose tickling with the spicy flavor of rum. When Trista curled her hand around Emily’s, Emily’s heart jumped. They moved closer, then closer still, until their lips were nearly touching. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Trista whispered.
But Emily moved closer anyway, her body rippling with excitement.
A hand smacked Emily on the back. “What the hell?”
Maya stood behind them, her nostrils flaring. Emily took a giant step away from Trista, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. “I thought you were going to the bathroom” was all Emily could think to say.
Maya blinked, her face purple with fury. Then, she turned and stormed out of the tent, pushing people out of her way.
“Maya!” Emily followed her through the doors. But just before she was about to exit, she felt a hand on her arm. It was a man she didn’t recognize in a police uniform. He had short spiky hair and a lanky build. His badge said SIMMONS.
“Are you Emily Fields?” the cop asked.
Emily nodded slowly, her heart suddenly quickening.
“I need to ask you a couple questions.” The cop placed his hand gently on Emily’s shoulder. “Have you…have you been getting some threatening messages?”
Emily’s mouth fell open. The flickering strobe lights made her woozy. “W-why?”
“Your friend Aria Montgomery told us about them this afternoon,” the cop said.