Thirty-Two: Not-So-Secret Lovers.

"And they were all over each other!" Emily took a huge sip of the sangria Maya had gotten for them from the planetarium bar. "All this time, I was afraid they could, like, change you, but it turns out that it's fake! My sponsor's back with her girlfriend and everything!"

Maya gave Emily a crazy look, poking her in the ribs. "You seriously thought they could change you?"

Emily leaned back. "I guess that is stupid, isn't it?"

"Yes." Maya smiled. "But I'm glad it doesn't work too."

About an hour ago, Becka and Wendy had dropped Emily off at Mona's party and she had torn through the rooms, searching for Maya, terrified that she had left—or worse, that she was with someone else. She'd found Maya by herself near the DJ booth, wearing a black-and-white striped dress and patent-leather Mary Janes. Her hair was up in white butterfly clips.

They had escaped outside to a little patch of grass in the planetarium's garden. They could see the party still raging through the two-story, frosted-glass windows, but they couldn't hear it. Shady trees, telescopes, and bushes pruned into the shapes of planets filled the garden. A few of the partygoers had spilled out and were sitting on the other side of the patio, smoking and laughing, and there was a couple making out by the giant, Saturn-shaped topiary, but Emily and Maya were pretty much sequestered. They hadn't kissed or anything, but were merely staring up at the sky. It had to be almost midnight, which was normally Emily's curfew, but she'd called her mom to say that she would be staying the night at Becka's. Becka had agreed to corroborate the story, if need be.

"Look," Emily said, pointing at the stars. "That section of stars up there, don't they look like they could form an E if you drew lines between them?"

"Where?" Maya squinted.

Emily positioned Maya's chin correctly. "There are stars next to them that form an M." She smiled in the darkness. "E and M. Emily and Maya. It's, like, a sign."

"You and your signs," Maya sighed. They were comfortably quiet for a second.

"I was furious at you," Maya said softly. "Breaking up with me in the kiln like that. Refusing to even look at me in the greenhouse."

Emily squeezed her hand and stared at the constellations. A tiny jet streaked past, a thousand feet up. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know I haven't exactly been fair."

Now Maya eyed Emily carefully. Glittery bronzer illuminated her forehead, cheeks, and nose. She looked more beautiful than Emily had ever seen her. "Can I hold your hand?" she whispered.

Emily gazed at her own rough, square hand. It had held pencils and paintbrushes and pieces of chalk. Gripped the starting blocks before a swimming race. Clutched a balloon on the swim team's homecoming float last year. It had held her boyfriend Ben's hand…and it had even held Maya's, but it seemed like this time it was more official. It was real.

She knew there were people around. But Maya was right—everyone already knew. The hard part was over, and she'd survived. She'd been miserable with Ben, and she hadn't been kidding anybody with Toby. Maybe she should be out there with this. As soon as Becka had said it, Emily knew she was right: she couldn't change who she was. The idea was terrifying but thrilling.

Emily touched Maya's hand. First lightly, then harder. "I love you, Em," Maya said, squeezing back. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Emily repeated, almost automatically. And she realized—she did. More than anyone else, more than Ali, even. Emily had kissed Ali, and for a split second, Ali had kissed her back. But then Ali had pulled back, disgusted. She'd quickly started talking about some boy she was really into, a boy whose name she wouldn't tell Emily because Emily might "really freak." Now Emily wondered if there even had been a boy, or if Ali had said it to undo the tiny moment when she had kissed Emily for real. To say, I'm not a lesbo. No frickin' way.

All this time, Emily had fantasized about what things would have been like if Ali hadn't disappeared, and if that summer and their friendship had proceeded as planned. Now she knew: it wouldn't have gone on. If Ali hadn't disappeared, she would have drifted farther and farther away from Emily. But maybe Emily would still have found her way to Maya.

"You okay?" Maya asked, noting Emily's silence.

"Yeah." They sat quietly for a few minutes, holding hands. Then Maya lifted her head, frowning at something inside the planetarium. Emily followed her eyes to a shadowy figure, staring straight at them. The figure knocked on the glass, making Emily jump.

"Who is that?" Emily murmured.

"Whoever it is," Maya said, squinting, "they're coming outside."

Every hair on Emily's body stood up. A? She scooted backward. Then she heard an all-too-familiar voice. "Emily Catherine Fields! Get over here!"

Maya's mouth dropped open. "Oh my God!"

Emily's mother stepped under the courtyard spotlights. Her hair was uncombed, she wore no makeup, she had on a ratty T-shirt, and her sneaker lace was untied. She looked ridiculous among the throng of done-up partygoers. A few kids gaped at her.

Emily clumsily struggled off the grass. "W-what are you doing here?"

Mrs. Fields grabbed Emily's arm. "I cannot believe you. I get a call fifteen minutes ago saying you're with her. And I don't believe them! Silly me! I don't believe them! I say they're lying!"

"Mom, I can explain!"

Mrs. Fields paused and sniffed the air around Emily's face. Her eyes widened. "You've been drinking!" she screamed, enraged. "What has happened to you, Emily?" She glanced down at Maya, who was sitting very still on the grass, as if Mrs. Fields had put her in suspended animation. "You're not my daughter anymore."

"Mom!" Emily screamed. It felt like her mother had thrust a curling iron into her eye. That statement sounded so…legal and binding. So final.

Mrs. Fields dragged her to the little gate that led from the courtyard to a back alley that led to the street. "I'm calling Helene when we get home."

"No!" Emily broke free, then faced her mother halfway hunched over, the way a sumo wrestler squares off when he's about to fight. "How can you say I'm not your daughter?" she screeched. "How can you send me away?"

Mrs. Fields reached for Emily's arm again, but Emily's sneakers caught on an uneven divot in the grass. She fell backward, hitting the ground on her tailbone, experiencing a white, blinding flash of pain.

When she opened her eyes, her mother was above her. "Get up. Let's go."

"No!" Emily bellowed. She tried to get up, but her mother's nails pierced her arm. Emily struggled but knew it was hopeless. She glanced once more at Maya, who still hadn't moved. Maya's eyes were huge and watery, and she looked tiny and alone. I might never see her again, Emily thought. This might be it.

"What's so wrong with it?" she screamed at her mother. "What's so wrong with being different? How can you hate me for that?"

Her mother's nostrils flared. She balled up her fists and opened her mouth, ready to scream something back. And then, suddenly, she seemed to deflate. She turned away and made a small noise at the back of her throat. All at once, she looked so spent. And scared. And ashamed. Without any makeup on and in her pajamas, she seemed vulnerable. There was a redness around her eyes, as if she had been crying for a long time. "Please. Let's just go."

Emily didn't know what else to do but get up. She followed her mother down the dark, deserted alley and into a parking lot, when Emily saw their familiar Volvo. The parking lot attendant met her mother's eyes and gave Emily a judging sneer, as if Mrs. Fields had explained why she was parking there and retrieving Emily from the party.

Emily threw herself in the front seat. Her eyes landed on the Dial-a-Horoscope laminated wheel that was in the car's seat. pocket. The wheel foretold every sign's horoscopes for all the twelve months of this year, so Emily pulled it out, spun the wheel to Taurus, her sign, and looked at October's predictions. Your love relationships will become more fulfilling and satisfying. Your relationships may have caused difficulties with others in the past, but all will be smooth sailing from now on.

Ha, Emily thought. She hurled the horoscope card out the window. She didn't believe in horoscopes anymore. Or tarot cards. Or signs or signals or anything else that said things happened for a reason. What was the reason this was happening?

A chill went through her. I get a call fifteen minutes ago saying you're with her.

She dug through her bag, her heart pounding. Her phone had one new message. It had been in her inbox for nearly two hours.

Em, I see you! And if you don't stop it, I'm calling you-know-who. —A