“I know,” Alex said. “I get it. Besides, it’s not like you’re that far from me. Maybe you’ll take another Lying Game trip soon, and come visit.” She struggled a little over the name of their clique, but no one else seemed to notice. Emma smiled.

Charlotte exchanged a glance with Madeline, who gave a tiny nod. “Speaking of Lying Game, we were thinking sleepover, this weekend. Would you want to come?”

Emma flushed with pleasure. “I’d love to.” She paused, then went on. “There’s one thing I won’t do, though.”

Madeline cocked her head curiously, but Laurel looked like she knew what Emma was about to say.

“No more pranks. I can’t do it anymore.”

The girls were silent for a long moment. Charlotte looked down at her black Jimmy Choos, and Madeline hugged herself. Behind them, the Twitter Twins’ jaws had dropped in shock. Alex just raised an eyebrow questioningly. But Laurel nodded.

“I’m with Emma on this,” she said. “It’s hurt too many people. And my snuff film prank was the one that Ethan used to . . . you know . . .” She trailed off.

Madeline took a deep breath. “You’re right. Maybe it’s time to be just boring old popular girls for once. We are fabulous enough not to need a gimmick, you know.”

Charlotte swept her hair behind her shoulder. “I’ve been thinking it’s time for a while now. We’re not kids anymore.”

Emma glanced at Lili and Gabby, who looked mutinous. Lili leaned in to whisper something in Gabby’s ear, and Gabby nodded. They had only gotten into the club a few months ago and clearly weren’t happy to be done with it so soon.

Oh, well. The Twitter Twins could go rogue, as long as they didn’t prank Emma.

“Anyway, we don’t have time for pranks right now,” Charlotte said. “I need to find a new swimsuit for Barbados. I can’t just sit in a cover-up the whole time if I’m going to get any color.” She smiled shyly. “Emma, you’re still invited if you want to come. A little beach, booze, and boys might be just what the doctor ordered to recover from . . . from all this.” She gestured helplessly around. Emma patted her shoulder gratefully, truly touched.

“Thanks, Char. But I need to spend this Christmas with my family.” She met Laurel’s eye, and they both smiled.

“More for us,” Madeline said brightly. “We’ll bring you back some rum.”

Emma laughed. Suddenly, the sun on her face and the December breeze playing against her bare legs felt almost heavenly.