Perfect (Book Three)

Sixteen: Someone's Been Kissing In The Kiln...

That same Wednesday lunch period, Emily strode quickly through the art studio hallway. "Heeeyyy, Emily," crooned Cody Wallis, Rosewood Day's star tennis player.

"Hi?" Emily looked over her shoulder. She was the only person around—could Cody really be saying hi to her?

"Looking good, Emily Fields," murmured John Dexter, the unbelievably hot captain of Rosewood Day's crew team. Emily couldn't even muster a hello—the last time John had spoken to her was in fifth-grade gym class. They'd been playing dodgeball, and John had beaned Emily's chest to tag her out. Later, he'd come up to her and said, snickering, "Sorry I hit your boobie."

She'd never had so many people—especially guys—smile, wave, and say hi to her. This morning, Jared Coffey, a brooding senior who rode a vintage Indian motorcycle to school and was usually too cool to speak to anyone, had insisted on buying her a blueberry muffin out of the vending machine. And as Emily had walked from second to third period this morning, a small convoy of freshman boys followed. One filmed her on his Nokia—it was probably already up on YouTube. She had come to school prepared to be taunted about the photo A had passed around at the meet yesterday, so this was sort of...unexpected.

When a hand shot out of the pottery studio, Emily flinched and let out a small shriek. Maya's face materialized at the door. "Psst, Em!"

Emily stepped out of the stream of traffic. "Maya. Hey."

Maya batted her eyelashes. "Come with me."

"I can't right now." Emily checked her chunky Nike watch. She was late for her lunch with Becka—Little Miss Tree Tops. "How about after school?"

"Nah, this'll just take a second!" Maya darted inside the empty studio and around a maze of desks toward the walk-in kiln. To Emily's surprise, she pushed the kiln's heavy door open and slid inside. Maya poked her head back out and grinned. "Coming?"

Emily shrugged. Inside the kiln, everything was dark, wooden, and warm—like a sauna. Dozen's of students' pots sat on the shelves. The ceramics teacher hadn't fired them yet, so they were still brick red and gooey.

"It's neat in here," Emily mused softly. She'd always liked the earthy, wet smell of raw clay. On one of the shelves was a coil pot she'd made two periods ago. She'd thought she'd done a good job, but seeing it again, she noticed that one side caved in.

Suddenly, Emily felt Maya's hands sliding up her back to her shoulders. Maya spun Emily around, and their noses touched. Maya's breath as usual, smelled like banana gum. "I think this is the sexiest room in the school, don't you?"

"Maya," Emily warned. They had to stop...only Maya's hands felt so good.

"No one will see," Maya protested. She raked her hands through Emily's dry, chlorine-damaged hair. "And besides, everyone knows about us anyway."

"Aren't you bothered by what happened yesterday?" Emily asked, pulling away. "Don't you feel violated?"

Maya thought for a moment. "Not particularly. And no one really seems to care."

"That's the weird thing," Emily agreed. "I thought everyone was going to be mean today—like, teasing me or whatever. But instead...I'm suddenly crazily popular. People didn't even pay this much attention to me after Ali disappeared."

Maya grinned and touched Emily's chin. "See? I told you it wouldn't be so bad. Wasn't it a good idea?"

Emily stepped back. In the kiln's pale light, Maya's face shone a ghoulish green. Yesterday, she'd noticed Maya in the natatorium stands...but when she'd looked after discovering the photo, she couldn't find Maya anywhere. Maya had wanted their relationship to be more open. A sick feeling washed over her. "What do you mean, good idea?"