didn’t usually feel so aware of herself, even when she was in her swimsuit, which was practically naked.
“Everyone has stuff they’re really into ,” Maya continued. “Like this girl Sarah in my physics class. She’s trying to form a band, and she asked me to be in it!”
“Really? What do you play?”
“Guitar,” Maya said. “My dad taught me. My brother’s actually a lot better, but whatever.”
“Wow,” Emily said. “That’s cool.”
“Omigod!” Maya grabbed Emily’s arm. Emily flinched at first but then relaxed. “You should join the band too! How fun would that be? Sarah said we’d practice three days a week after school. She plays bass.”
“But all I play is the flute,” Emily said, realizing she sounded like Eeyore from Winnie-the-Pooh .
“The flute would be awesome!” Maya clapped her hands. “And drums!”
Emily sighed. “I really couldn’t. I have swimming, like, every day after school.”
“Hmm,” Maya said. “Can’t you skip a day? I bet you’d be so good at the drums.”
“My parents would murder me.” Emily tilted her head and stared at the old iron railroad bridge above them. Trains didn’t use the bridge anymore, so now it was mostly a place for kids to go and get drunk without their parents knowing.
“Why?” Maya asked. “What’s the big deal?”
Emily paused. What was she supposed to say? That her parents expected her to keep swimming because scouts from Stanford were already watching Carolyn’s progress? That her older brother, Jake, and oldest sister, Beth, were now both at the University of Arizona on full swimming rides? That anything less than a swimming scholarship to somewhere top-notch would be a family failure? Maya wasn’t afraid to smoke pot when her parents were buying groceries. Emily’s parents, by comparison, seemed like old, conservative, controlling East Coast suburbanites. Which they were. But still.
“This is a shorter way home.” Emily gestured across the street, to the large colonial house’s lawn she and her friends used to cut through on winter days to get to Ali’s house faster.
They started up through the grass, avoiding a sprinkler spraying the hydrangea bushes. As they pushed through the brambly tree branches to Maya’s backyard, Emily stopped short. A small, guttural noise escaped her throat.
She hadn’t been in this backyard— Ali’s old backyard—in ages. There, across the lawn, was the teak deck where she and Ali had played countless games of Spit. There was the worn patch of grass where they’d hooked up Ali’s thick white iPod to speakers and had dance parties. To her left was the familiar knotty oak tree. The tree house was gone, but carved in the bark on the trunk were the initials: EF + AD —Emily Fields + Alison DiLaurentis. Her face flushed. At the time, Emily hadn’t known why she carved their names into the bark; she’d just wanted to show Ali how happy she was that they were friends.
Maya, who had walked on ahead of her, looked over her shoulder. “You okay?”
Emily shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. For a second, she considered telling Maya about Ali. But a hummingbird swept past her and she lost her nerve. “I’m fine,” she said.
“Do you wanna come in?” Maya asked.
“No…I…I have to go back to school,” Emily answered. “Swimming.”
“Oh.” Maya crinkled up her eyes. “You didn’t have to walk me home, silly.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to get lost.”
“You’re so cute.” Maya looped her hands behind her back and swung her hips back and forth. Emily wondered what she meant by cute . Was that a California thing?
“So, well, have fun at swimming,” Maya said. “And thanks for showing me around today.”
“Sure.” Emily stepped forward, and their bodies smushed together in a hug.
“Mmm,” Maya said, squeezing tighter. The girls stepped back and grinned at each other for a second. Then Maya leaned forward and kissed Emily on both cheeks.
“Everyone has stuff they’re really into ,” Maya continued. “Like this girl Sarah in my physics class. She’s trying to form a band, and she asked me to be in it!”
“Really? What do you play?”
“Guitar,” Maya said. “My dad taught me. My brother’s actually a lot better, but whatever.”
“Wow,” Emily said. “That’s cool.”
“Omigod!” Maya grabbed Emily’s arm. Emily flinched at first but then relaxed. “You should join the band too! How fun would that be? Sarah said we’d practice three days a week after school. She plays bass.”
“But all I play is the flute,” Emily said, realizing she sounded like Eeyore from Winnie-the-Pooh .
“The flute would be awesome!” Maya clapped her hands. “And drums!”
Emily sighed. “I really couldn’t. I have swimming, like, every day after school.”
“Hmm,” Maya said. “Can’t you skip a day? I bet you’d be so good at the drums.”
“My parents would murder me.” Emily tilted her head and stared at the old iron railroad bridge above them. Trains didn’t use the bridge anymore, so now it was mostly a place for kids to go and get drunk without their parents knowing.
“Why?” Maya asked. “What’s the big deal?”
Emily paused. What was she supposed to say? That her parents expected her to keep swimming because scouts from Stanford were already watching Carolyn’s progress? That her older brother, Jake, and oldest sister, Beth, were now both at the University of Arizona on full swimming rides? That anything less than a swimming scholarship to somewhere top-notch would be a family failure? Maya wasn’t afraid to smoke pot when her parents were buying groceries. Emily’s parents, by comparison, seemed like old, conservative, controlling East Coast suburbanites. Which they were. But still.
“This is a shorter way home.” Emily gestured across the street, to the large colonial house’s lawn she and her friends used to cut through on winter days to get to Ali’s house faster.
They started up through the grass, avoiding a sprinkler spraying the hydrangea bushes. As they pushed through the brambly tree branches to Maya’s backyard, Emily stopped short. A small, guttural noise escaped her throat.
She hadn’t been in this backyard— Ali’s old backyard—in ages. There, across the lawn, was the teak deck where she and Ali had played countless games of Spit. There was the worn patch of grass where they’d hooked up Ali’s thick white iPod to speakers and had dance parties. To her left was the familiar knotty oak tree. The tree house was gone, but carved in the bark on the trunk were the initials: EF + AD —Emily Fields + Alison DiLaurentis. Her face flushed. At the time, Emily hadn’t known why she carved their names into the bark; she’d just wanted to show Ali how happy she was that they were friends.
Maya, who had walked on ahead of her, looked over her shoulder. “You okay?”
Emily shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. For a second, she considered telling Maya about Ali. But a hummingbird swept past her and she lost her nerve. “I’m fine,” she said.
“Do you wanna come in?” Maya asked.
“No…I…I have to go back to school,” Emily answered. “Swimming.”
“Oh.” Maya crinkled up her eyes. “You didn’t have to walk me home, silly.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to get lost.”
“You’re so cute.” Maya looped her hands behind her back and swung her hips back and forth. Emily wondered what she meant by cute . Was that a California thing?
“So, well, have fun at swimming,” Maya said. “And thanks for showing me around today.”
“Sure.” Emily stepped forward, and their bodies smushed together in a hug.
“Mmm,” Maya said, squeezing tighter. The girls stepped back and grinned at each other for a second. Then Maya leaned forward and kissed Emily on both cheeks.
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