First Impressions (A Lying Game Alternate Ending)

4: Déjà Vu

"Sutton. Sutton." I jolt awake, looking blearily at my bedside clock. My mother thrusts a dress and shoes into my hands, her hair wild. "What time is it?" I mumble, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"Time for you to get up," she snaps, "You have ten minutes." She rushes out of the room and I hear the click of the guest room door, then my mother's groan. "Emma!" I snicker as I slide out of bed and go to wash up. That's another similarity we share.

Eight minutes later, we're piled into Dad's SUV, my tennis bag clamped between my knees as Emma squeezes in beside me in the backseat. Laurel rides shotgun, her skirt already spread flat across her lap and her garish pink Tory Burch tote resting on top. She turns and I stiffen, but she looks right past me and offers Emma a big smile and her hand.

I sniff, like the whole exchange is beneath me. Okay, two can play at that game.

"I don't think we've met yet. I'm Laurel."

Emma slowly takes Laurel's hand. "Hi, I'm Emma. You're... our aunt. Right? Becky's sister?" Emma looks at me for confirmation and I feel a rush of pride, of togetherness.

"Yeah. Our aunt." I smirk and raise an eyebrow at Laurel, as if to say, It's us against you. Game on.

Laurel makes a face like I've shoved one of Drake's dog treats straight down her throat, and she whirls around so fast she almost snaps Emma's wrist. Emma winces and rubs it, but I see her shoot a puzzled look at me like, What's up with her?

I shrug and sit back in the leather seat. Who knew what was up with Laurel these days?

My dad glances back and checks that we're all good, before setting off. "So, Emma," he says, raising his voice a little to be heard over the engine. Emma perks up eagerly at her name, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Are you thinking of joining any clubs?"

Emma's eyes dart to the tennis bags sitting in front of both me and Laurel, toying with the rose gold Neiman Marcus bracelet I lent her. "I don't know..." she says slowly.

"Oh, c'mon!" I goad, linking my arm with hers. "If you join tennis, we can overthrow Nisha together! We'll rule Hollier! Just imagine: Sutton and Emma, prom queens!" I catch Laurel's expression in the rear-view mirror, and her lips are pressed in a thin line of barely suppressed... fury? Annoyance?

Whatever. Who cared what Laurel thought?

Emma bites on her thumbnail. "It sounds..."

Laurel cuts her off before she can finish. "Even if you want to join, you'll have to wait. Coach Maggie is only holding tryouts in October." Her tone is snide and condescending.

Emma frowns. "I never said I wanted to join." Her voice is suddenly sharp, cutting, and even Laurel flinches. "I haven't decided yet."

My dad is cheerfully oblivious as he pulls up in front of the school. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time."

As soon as he brakes, Laurel scoops up her things and almost stumbles out of the car, and I realise that her eyes are rimmed red. She darts up the walkway and into the school, and soon all I see is the swinging door.

I turn to Emma, whose jaw drops as she gazes up at the school. My dad parks and follows us in, stopping with Emma at the office to enroll her in the school. I bid them goodbye and head for class.

At lunch, Emma, who had been taken on a tour of the school, joins me and my friends, but Laurel is nowhere to be seen. "Guys," I announce, raising my Starbucks cup in a toast, "to the newest member of the Lying Game!"

Madeline blinks her long-lashed eyes at me like I'm insane, while Char rolls her eyes. "As if, Sutton. Your sister is your sister, but there's no way she's getting in this fast. Remember all the shit you put Laurel through before you even considered letting her join?"

The Twitter Twins look up from their phones in sync and nod solemnly. They were beyond ecstatic when I had first introduced them to Emma, excited about another pair of twins in the group. But now, Lili scowls. "She just got here and she gets an in? Where's the fairness in that?"

I set my cup on the table harder than necessary and level a glare at Lili.

"I'm sorry, I missed the part where I said you were all my twin. Suck it up, buttercups." Emma, who has been watching this with a mouth full of sushi, swallows and looks apprehensive. "I don't know, guys. This whole Lying Game thing seems... kinda shady?"

Char barks out a laugh. "Shady? Emma, we're the club to be in. Everyone wants to be us. No offence, but you get it, right?"

"Didn't you have fun? Pranking me and Char, I mean." Mads presses. Emma shrugs and sips her latte. "I did. I just heard stories about you, is all."

I frown at her. "What stories? Who told you?"

Emma gives me a funny look. "That girl whose house we partied at? I forgot her name, that entire night is just a blur."

"Nisha?" I gape, incredulity rising hot inside me. The nerve of her, to shit talk me to my own twin. And Emma had believed her. Of course, Emma was new here. She didn't know who to trust yet, but she would know who her people were soon enough. I grit my teeth and finish off my coffee. The Twitter Twins reluctantly excuse themselves, recognising an incoming prank from a mile away. "Girls, I know who our next victim is."

Emma hangs back, looking conflicted; half-interested, half-uneasy, but my friends lean closer, their faces bright and eager.

She clearly doesn't know her place, our tennis club co-captaincy obviously getting to her head. Plus, I was still in disbelief at the audacity she had, but she was about to be taken down a peg or two.

"Nisha Banerjee."

A/N: Hi there! This is Xyn, the writer of this story. Sorry I've been away so long, but I've just been busy! I promise the next chapter will be longer and better!

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!