Even though the twins traditionally dressed like opposites—Gabby had a Stepford Wife thing going, with preppy headbands and grosgrain-piped everything, and Lili went for the Taylor Momsen look, with plaid flannels, über-short skirts, and lots of raccoonish eye makeup—today they both wore tight-fitting pink dresses with frothy tulle skirts and mile-high platform heels that laced up their thin ankles. As usual, they clutched their iPhones. Everyone—from the band kids in the corner to the sullen, arty types by the stucco wall—stared at them.

“Hi, girls!” Gabby trilled as she reached their table.

“Ciao!” Lili said. “Did someone say camping? Where are we going this year?”

“We are camping at Mount Lemmon,” Charlotte said pointedly. “I don’t know where you are camping.”

“That’s too bad,” Lili said just as pointedly back. “Because we’re the only ones who know where the best hot springs are.”

“And we’ve got an adorable little hibachi grill. We could make s’mores,” Gabby added.

“I don’t know if starting a fire in the desert is the best idea.” Laurel smirked.

Emma ran her tongue over her teeth as she stared at the girls, thinking of their car slowly passing Sutton’s house. Had they been the ones lurking outside Sutton’s house last night, watching her and Ethan swim?

Madeline appraised their outfits. “Voting for court already happened, ladies. You don’t have to dress like Homecoming Barbies anymore.”

“Maybe we like it.” Lili put her hands on her bony hips. “So, girls. Have you figured out the plans for our ceremony yet?”

“It’d better be good,” Gabby jumped in, chomping hard on a piece of gum. The scent of watermelon wafted through the air. “Servants . . . awesome food and music . . . and perhaps a Lying Game initiation ceremony as the cherry on top?” Gabby ticked off each request on her fingers.

“We have some killer prank ideas,” Lili said, a glint dancing in her light eyes.

“We’d be an asset to the group,” Gabby said in a low voice, staring directly at Emma. Emma drew back slightly, her heart speeding up just a tick. Gabby pulled a tiny bottle from the pocket of her dress, flicked open the pink lid, and placed a round pill on her tongue. Her throat rose as she swallowed. Her gaze never left Emma’s, as though passing an unspoken message between them.

“No can do on the Lying Game invite, ladies,” Emma said, trying to sound confident and poised. Sutton hadn’t allowed Gabby and Lili into the club before—maybe for a good reason.

Gabby’s eyes flickered over Emma’s body, as if sizing her up for a fight. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” she said, her words suddenly hard.