Free True Lies: A Lying Game Novella by Sara Shepard

they slowly drop their phones into their bags and actually gasp in disbelief. “Amazing, Sutton,” Madeline says, awed.
    “I know.” I spin to give them the full 360-degree view. The plastic meat is heavy and cold, and I’m relieved the dress is just a replica. Passersby notice me and hoot appreciatively.
    The door of the shop swings open a second time, and Laurel’s footsteps sound behind me. Her Queen of Hearts dress crinkles with her every movement. “Check me out!” she crows. She prances toward us, curtsying like a Disney princess and fanning out the costume’s full skirt. The clown-red curls of the wig brush against her pale cheeks and the gaudy tiara on her head sparkles. She glows . . . until she realizes where I am and what I’m wearing.
    Her face falls. “Oh,” she manages.
    “Yeah, oh,” I shoot back. “All sorts of stuff can happen when your back is turned, huh?”
    Charlotte clears her throat. “Good job, Laurel,” she starts. “Love the wig. But Sutton killed it this round. Sorry.”
    Laurel mumbles something indecipherable under her breath, and Mads pats her shoulder reassuringly. “Laurel, she’s wearing meat,” she points out, stifling a giggle. “We have to give it to her.”
    “That’s right, bitch!” I crow. “And I don’t look . . . meaty in it, either,” I say, looking critically at Laurel’s arms. Our almost heart-to-heart—and Laurel’s deceit—rankles me and I want to stamp out any memory of it.
    “Well, at least half of Vegas doesn’t think I got stood up at the altar,” Laurel shoots back defensively.
    I snicker meanly. “At least they think I was in an actual relationship. Laurel, when was the last time you had a boyfriend? All I’ve ever seen you do is trail behind Thayer like a puppy dog.”
    Laurel’s mouth opens and closes. Tears dot her eyes. Then I notice Charlotte’s shocked expression and Madeline’s tight one.
    For a split second, I wonder if I’ve gone too far. You should be nicer to Laurel, Thayer’s voice floats back to me. She looks up to you. And I think of Garrett, too, and how caring he is for his sister. How lucky she is to have him.
    “That was low, even for you, Sutton,” she says, her voice quiet. And then they all head into the costume shop so Laurel can change back into street clothes.
    “Mads,” I say weakly. “Char?” Laurel played dirty, too, I want to tell them. She tricked me.
    But I have a feeling that, right now, they don’t want to hear it.

10
    DOWN TO THE WIRE
    Later that afternoon, Garrett and I are sitting in a private Bellagio cabana next to the glittering swimming pool. Due to the 110-degree heat, it’s clogged with people in trunks and bikinis, each person more beautiful and toned than the last. Caribbean music plays over the speakers, and the air is fraught with the smell of hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill.
    Once again, I’m so glad I invited Garrett along. I’d felt unsettled after the last challenge, but after a few hours of relaxation with him poolside, I’ve decided to chalk my guilty feelings up to temporary insanity. Laurel asked for this, after all. If she wants into the Lying Game, she has to toughen up.
    I leap up and pull Garrett to stand, too. “I’m bored,” I say. “Let’s race.”
    “A swimming race?” Garrett’s eyes twinkle. “Okay.”
    “Once around the middle fountain.” I extend an index finger to clarify. The streams of water spurting from the center of the pool shimmer like an oasis. “First one back here wins.” I adjust the straps on my white crocheted bikini in preparation, bouncing on my toes. Suddenly, I’m itching to compete—and win. I want to keep my muscles limber for the next and final Lying Game challenge, whenever Mads and Char decide to drop it on me. Laurel and I are tied, so whoever wins the last challenge will win it all. And the winner has to be me.
    All at once, Garrett bursts into movement and pushes me backward lightly, teasing. “One, two,