Free Never Have I Ever by Sara Shepard Page A

when you were growing up, Emma?”
    Emma laughed, kicking her legs faster as she tread water. “A foster kid with a pool? I was lucky if I had a clean bathtub. But I hung out at public pools a lot. When I was younger, a social worker got me into free swimming lessons.”
    “That’s nice.”
    “I guess.” It would’ve been nicer if Becky had taught her to swim. Or if one of her foster moms had bothered to come and watch her lessons. Emma used to look to the bleachers when she was in the water, thinking she might see someone for her there, but she was always disappointed. Eventually, she stopped looking altogether.
    “Do you have a favorite pool game from when you were growing up?” Ethan asked.
    Emma thought for a moment. “I guess Marco Polo.” They used to play it at the end of swimming lessons.
    “Wanna play?” Ethan asked.
    Emma giggled, but Ethan’s face was serious. “Uh, sure,” she said. “ Quietly. ” She shut her eyes, spun around in the water a few times, and whispered, “Marco!”
    “Polo!” Ethan answered back, his voice low. Emma drifted toward his voice, sticking her arms straight in front of her.
    Ethan snickered. “You look like the undead.”
    Emma laughed, but it felt wrong somehow. What if Sutton’s body was floating somewhere just like hers was right now?
    An image of cold, dark water raced through my mind. Waves lapped a body wrapped in soaked clothing. I couldn’t get close enough to make out the figure lying facedown on the riverbed. Could it have been me lying there, left for dead?
    Emma halfheartedly swam toward Ethan’s voice, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that had bloomed in her stomach. Her hands swiped air.
    “I’m the Marco Polo master,” Ethan teased. It sounded like he was now in the shallow end. “So did being a foster kid suck?”
    Emma cleared her throat. “Pretty much,” she said, squeezing her eyes tighter. “But since I’m eighteen, I guess it’s over. Marco!”
    “Polo,” Ethan answered, now sounding on Emma’s left. “It’s also over because you’re here , living Sutton’s life. And once we figure this out, you can go back to being Emma again.”
    Emma swished her fingers through the cool water, considering this. It was hard not to think about what might happen to her after Sutton’s murder was solved— if it was solved. She wanted more than anything to stay here, to get to know the Mercers as herself , but what if they kicked her out once they discovered she’d been impersonating their dead daughter?
    Ethan broke the silence. “I don’t know how you got through years of foster care and turned out so . . . normal. I’m not sure I would.”
    “Well, I kind of disappeared into my own head.” Emma skimmed through the water, focused on the sound of Ethan’s low voice. “Made up a world of my own.”
    “Meaning . . . ?”
    “I kept journals and wrote stories. And I created a newspaper.”
    “Really?”
    Emma nodded, her eyes still closed. “It was sort of . . . the Daily Emma . I would take pictures and write down stuff that happened to me as if it were a top story on the front page. You know, ‘Girl Cooks Yet Another Lentil Loaf for Hippie Foster Parents.’ Or ‘Foster Sister Breaks Emma Paxton’s Prized Possession Just ’Cause She Feels Like It.’ It helped me cope. I still compose headlines in my head, sometimes.”
    “How come?”
    Emma wiped water from her face. “I guess it makes me feel . . . significant. Like I’m good enough to be a headline on a front page—even if it’s my own made-up newspaper.”
    “I went into my own little world, too,” Ethan confessed. “I used to get picked on all the time when I was younger.”
    “ You were picked on?” Emma wanted to open her eyes and stare at him. “Why?”
    “Why does anyone ever get picked on?” Ethan’s voice cracked. “It was just something that happened. Except instead of writing newspapers, I drew mazes. First, they were pretty basic,