Free Cross My Heart, Hope to Die by Sara Shepard Page A

She liked hearing sweet memories of her sister.
    I liked that my mom had sweet memories of me.
    “How’s Ethan?” Mrs. Mercer poured hot water over the leaves. Lavender-scented steam billowed from the teapot’s spout.
    “He’s good.” Emma couldn’t wipe a dopey grin off her face. “We’re having a picnic tonight.”
    Mrs. Mercer raised an eyebrow. “How romantic.”
    Emma ducked her head, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “We’re going stargazing—he’s really into astronomy. I was going to bake cookies this afternoon to take with us.”
    “ You’re making cookies?” Mrs. Mercer peered at her. “You don’t even know how to turn the oven on!”
    “Oh, I’m sure I can figure it out,” Emma covered. It didn’t surprise her that Sutton didn’t know how to cook, but she’d been baking since junior high, making chocolate chip oatmeal cookies and peanut butter blossoms to try to win over her various foster families. Baking relaxed her. She liked to sit, listening to her favorite music on the used iPod she’d bought at Goodwill, inhaling the delicious smells of sugar and chocolate.
    I just hoped she didn’t lick the batter from the spoon. Sutton Mercer did not get love handles.
    “Well, I’m sure he’ll love them, even if they’re a little burned,” Mrs. Mercer teased.
    “Gee, thanks, Mom,” Emma groused good-naturedly. Just talking about her night with Ethan made Emma’s heart speed up. It felt like ages since their date at the movie studio, and she couldn’t wait to feel his breath on her ear and his lips on hers. She smiled at the thought of his cryptic text from that morning: N 32° 12' 23.2554", W 110° 41' 18.3012" = <3? 8PM? After a moment of puzzling, Emma had plugged the longitude and latitude notations into Sutton’s iPhone. The coordinates were for a site in Saguaro National Park. Sends me invitations in the form of riddles was something else to add to her list of Adorable Things Ethan Does .
    The teapot whistled, breaking Emma from her thoughts. “He wasn’t hurt too badly in that fight, was he?” Mrs. Mercer asked.
    Emma shrugged. “I think he’s okay. He has a black eye that he thinks makes him look really cool.”
    Mrs. Mercer sighed. “He shouldn’t have swung at Thayer. Boys never stop to think things through, do they? People get hurt in fights like that—and not just the people in the actual fight.” Then she looked at Emma. “How are you doing with all of that, Sutton?”
    Emma picked at a speck of lint on her skirt. “Haven’t you heard? I’m Sutton Mercer. I love it when boys fight over me.”
    Mrs. Mercer crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen you get so pale as when those two started on each other.”
    Gratitude bubbled up in Emma’s chest as she met Mrs. Mercer’s eyes. No else one was willing to believe that she wasn’t enjoying stringing two boys along. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “I like Ethan, and it’s completely over with me and Thayer. I just can’t seem to convince either one of them of that.”
    Mrs. Mercer sipped her tea. “You know, Sutton, the problem isn’t that you’re giving them the wrong signals. It’s that you’re so worth fighting for. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
    If I could have put my head on my adoptive mother’s shoulder right at that moment, I would have. Ever since my death, Emma and I had scrambled around trying to figure out what I’d done to deserve getting murdered. It seemed I’d given so many people reasons to want me gone that the real mystery was why someone hadn’t done it sooner. It was a welcome change to hear something nice about me for once.
    Mrs. Mercer opened a package of shortbread cookies and placed a few on a plate. “Well, I for one think Ethan has been a good influence on you. Your grades have improved so much since you started seeing him, and you’ve been nicer to your sister.” She gave Emma a motherly smile. “Or maybe my little girl is just