Ali's Pretty Little Lies (19 page)

Ali nodded. “I’ve been friends with him for a long time. I can tell.”

Josie’s eyes flicked back and forth. “He
was
really cute.”

“Do you want to get to know him better?” Ali asked.

Josie smiled. “Sure.”

Ali nodded. “You know what I’ll do? I’ll send him back into the sunroom with some drinks so you guys can talk in private.” She winked knowingly.

Josie stared at Ali for a few long beats. “Thanks.”

“Go in there and settle yourself on the couch,” Ali said, gesturing toward the sunroom. To her delight, Josie did exactly as she was told. Then Ali scuttled back to the patio, which was suddenly filled with kids. Spencer and Kirsten were dancing. Aria and Emily were at one of the tables, talking to Joanna Kirby, who would have been perfect for Ali’s clique except for the fact that she was way too obsessed with horses—rumor had it she still played with the figurines. Ali spied Sean across the patio with James Freed. Hanna was standing close to him, gnawing on her fingernail, probably contemplating talking to him. Ali swept him up before she could.

And after that, it was easy. Sean, always the gentleman, immediately got two cups of punch and headed for the sunroom. Hanna watched him, confused, but stayed glued to her spot next to the hanging basket of impatiens.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Hanna wriggled as though she had bugs in her undies. She plunged her hand into the Doritos bowl again and again until there were only crumbs. Finally, Ali joined her at the railing. “What happened to Josie?”

“I don’t know,” Hanna said anxiously. “I haven’t seen her since she came in. What if she thought this was lame and left?”

Ali ignored the fact that Hanna had more or less insulted her to her face and linked her elbow in hers. “Let’s look for her in the house.”

They walked into the kitchen, where the silence was shocking in comparison to the loud voices outside. Ali poked her head into a bathroom, then peered up the steps. “I don’t know, Han.”

When Hanna wandered toward the sunroom, Ali didn’t join her. She didn’t have to. She watched as Hanna stopped short in the doorway, the color draining from her face.

“What is it?” Ali asked, coming up next to Hanna.

Hanna took a big step back. Tears were in her eyes. Ali peeked in and saw Josie and Sean cuddled up on the couch, clearly almost kissing. “Oh my God,” Ali said, grabbing Hanna’s hand.

All kinds of expressions crossed Hanna’s face. She shook her head, then fled toward the bathroom. The door slammed hard. Ali rattled the knob, but it was locked. “Hanna?” she called out. “Han, please let me in!”

A small, dry cough emerged from inside. Water splashed. The toilet flushed. Ali cupped her palm around the knob. It was déjà vu of what had happened in Annapolis in February. She suddenly felt a pang.
She
had made this happen today. Then again, she had sort of made the Annapolis thing happen, too.

Ali twisted the knob, and it gave—it was almost like Hanna
wanted
her to come in. The door opened to a familiar scene: Hanna crouched over the toilet bowl, her eyes red. She looked up at Ali not with horror but with defeat. Ali slipped inside and shut the door again.

“I’m really not doing it that much,” Hanna blurted.

“I know,” Ali soothed. “And seeing what you just saw . . . oh my God, Han. It’s awful.”

Hanna nodded. “I
told
her I liked him. I
told
her he was going to be here. And she went right for him!”

“Some girls are just like that,” Ali said, stroking Hanna’s hair. “You know what you need to do? Never talk to that bitch again, starting now. If she tries to talk to you, freeze her out. She’s dead to us.”

Hanna swallowed a sob. “But she was so cool. And fun. And—”

“You can’t let her get away with this,” Ali interrupted. “Girls like that will walk all over you if you let them, Han. And if Sean doesn’t realize how special you are, that’s his problem. I’ll make sure that Josie’s reputation is trashed at Rosewood Day, okay? I’ll even make sure no one shops at Otter. I’m texting Spencer right now to ask her and Sean to leave. And we’ll find another boy for you this summer—someone way better than Sean, anyway. I promise.”

Hanna wiped away a tear. “You will?”

“Absolutely.” Ali slicked Hanna’s hair off her face. “No offense, Han, but Sean’s too straitlaced for you. You need a guy who’s wilder, cooler, a little more fun. I know tons of boys like that.”

“Okay,” Hanna murmured. And when she looked at Ali, Ali could tell that she wouldn’t speak to Josie again. She would do anything Ali asked, especially now.

Then Hanna cleared her throat. “And you won’t tell anyone about . . .
this
, will you?” She gestured to the toilet.

Ali shifted her weight against the sink. “Hanna, don’t you think you
should
tell someone?”

“No!”

“Not even your mom?”

Hanna shook her head, her hair flopping back and forth. “Please,” she begged.

Ali crossed her arms over her chest, pretending to think about it. “Okay,” she said. “Best friends have each other’s backs—I have yours if you have mine.”

“Definitely,” Hanna said eagerly. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Perfect,” Ali said, and patted Hanna on the head. “That’s all I ask.”

She got Hanna a cup of water and told her to wash her face. Then she helped her out of the bathroom, Hanna’s girth leaning heavily on her shoulder. Even though Ali’s clothes now smelled as pukey as Hanna’s, she didn’t complain.

That was what good friends were for, after all.

25

TREE HOUSES MAKE GREAT FIRST DATES

By eleven o’ clock, the party had wound down and almost everyone had gone home. Aria said she was tired, Hanna said she was sick, and Spencer had a field hockey camp orientation the following morning, so Emily was the only one who stayed over. The next morning, the two of them sat on the patio, staring at the rising sun and then the gaping hole in the backyard. A tarp flapped on top of it. A few tools had been left on the grass nearby.

“Have the workers said anything else to you?” Emily whispered.

“Here and there,” Ali said, pretending to be upset.

“That is so wrong.” Emily clucked her tongue.

Ali pulled her legs underneath her on the chair. The truth was, even when she’d paraded in front of the workers in a bikini, they’d barely looked at her. She wondered if her dad had warned them or something.

She stretched out her legs. “Did you have fun last night?”

“It was okay.” Emily shrugged. “Hanna seemed really upset about Sean, though.”

“Yeah.” Ali inspected her fingernails, hoping Emily hadn’t seen any of the machinations of that. But even if she had, she might not ask.

“Aria seemed quiet,” Emily went on. “So did Spencer.”

“Sort of,” Ali said.

“Do you know what’s going on with them?”

The overhead light seemed to make a halo over Emily’s head. She was flicking the loose threads of her Jenna Thing bracelet again and again. “I think they should probably tell you themselves,” she said.

Her phone beeped, startling both of them. Ali grabbed for it, hoping it was Nick, but the call came up as
Unknown.
She turned the phone over.

“Do you need to get that?” Emily asked.

“Not right now.” Ali gave her a tight smile.

The phone stopped, but immediately started ringing again. Ali groaned and kicked it under the table with her foot, then stood. “Come on,” she said to Emily. “Let’s walk around.”

They wandered over to the half-dug hole and looked inside. The workers had dug down several feet more than the last time she’d checked it out, exposing more twisted roots and loamy dark soil. Several banged-up shovels lay in the bottom, and a Swiss Army knife lay abandoned by the edge.

Ali scooped up the knife and stared into the bottom. “I dare you to jump in the hole.”

Emily looked worried. “What if I can’t get out?”

“You could,” Ali said, but when she looked into the hole again, she wasn’t so sure. It seemed deeper, suddenly, than it had even a moment ago. “On second thought, forget it,” she decided. “I’d get too dirty pulling you out.”

Emily turned and eyed the tree house at the back of the property. Suddenly, she grabbed the Swiss Army knife from Ali’s hand and walked toward the solid trunk. After a moment, Ali heard scratching sounds. Emily was cutting something into the bark.

“Are you cutting down my tree?” she asked, walking over to her.

“Nope.” Emily stepped away from the tree and showed off the trunk. Carved into the bark was
EF + AD
. “Do you like?”

A dizzy feeling swept across Ali’s body as unexpectedly as a pop-up thunderstorm might come upon a town. “Cute,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I’m just so happy we’re friends,” Emily gushed. “I wanted to . . . I don’t know. Show you, I guess.”

“Uh-huh.” Ali’s throat suddenly felt dry.

Emily dropped the Swiss Army knife on the grass and peered up at the tree house. “It’s been ages since we’ve been up there.”

“Let’s go,” Ali said, eager to change the subject.

She grabbed the threadbare rope and placed her feet on the planks her dad had nailed to the trunk as steps sometime in the many years she’d been locked in the hospital. It was an easy climb into the tree house, which was basically just several boards for a floor, pieces of plywood for the walls and roof, and cutouts for windows. Dried leaves and dead bugs littered the floor. Spiderwebs had taken residence in the corners. Ali brushed everything aside with her hands and sat down, her butt bones digging into the wood.

Emily climbed up next and sat beside her. They’d grown so much that there was barely room for both of them; their forearms just touched. They stared out the little window, which offered a good view of the Hastingses’ barn. Melissa Hastings moved back and forth in front of the window. It seemed like she was talking to someone on the phone.

Then Ali turned around and looked at her house. The light was on in her bedroom window, but the guest room’s window was dark. It had been the first window she’d peered out of in Rosewood. In a few days, her sister would be staying in that room, looking out that window instead. Or would she be in her old bedroom again? Would she have convinced her parents the truth about what happened?

Ali’s insides twisted.

“It’s so nice up here,” Emily breathed, bringing Ali back to the moment. “So . . . quiet. It feels like we’re not in Rosewood anymore.”

“It would be nice to get out of Rosewood, wouldn’t it?” Ali murmured. “I’m definitely not living here when I’m older.”

“Me, neither,” Emily agreed. “I don’t even want to live here
now
.”

Ali looked at her for a moment. She wanted to ask why not. Her parents? Her zillions of brothers and sisters? She wondered if it had something to do with her burgeoning crush. Rosewood wasn’t exactly the most tolerant place of people who were different.

“A tropical island would be nice,” Ali said after a moment.

Emily’s eyes lit up. “I would love to live on a beach. Swimming every single day? Amazing.”

“Why don’t we go right now?” Ali said. “I could book us tickets with my dad’s points. We could run away and never come back.”

“Really?” Emily sounded astonished. “You’d want to go with me?”

“Sure, Em.” Ali shifted her weight. “It would be fun to go with you.” Maybe running away was the answer, she thought suddenly. She could avoid her sister forever. She’d never have to face what was to come.

“It would be really fun to go with you, too, Ali,” Emily said breathlessly. Her fingers were trembling a little, but Ali pretended not to notice. “When I say how happy I am we’re friends, I really mean it. This is . . .
amazing.
”

“Definitely,” Ali said, staring at Emily’s thigh. It had shifted closer so that it was now touching Ali’s knee.

Emily looked up and met Ali’s gaze. “Wasn’t the ice rink fun?”

“Sure,” Ali said, a strange feeling settling over her. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

A heartbreaking smile appeared on Emily’s face. “Really? I would
love
that!” Now her thigh was definitely touching Ali’s knee. Emily placed a hand over Ali’s and then pulled it away, seeming embarrassed. “I’ve been thinking about that day a lot, Ali.”

Suddenly, all Ali could see in her mind’s eye were those tiny letters spelling out
I love Ali
on Emily’s notebook
.
The air seemed charged—Emily seemed eager to get something off her chest. Ali was afraid she knew what it was, too. She moved her knee away in one clean jerk and touched Emily’s shoulder. “I have something to tell you,” she blurted. “It’s a secret.”

Emily pressed her lips together. Her eyes shone.

Ali licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Well, I’m sort of seeing someone. This older guy. He’s absolutely amazing.”

For a moment, the tree house was utterly silent. “O-oh,” Emily stammered. Her eyes darted in a lot of directions.

“I wanted you to know because you’re my favorite, Em. You always have been.”

Emily swallowed audibly. “Th-that’s great. What’s his name?”

“It’s . . . well, I don’t want to tell you yet. Soon though, okay?”

“Okay,” Emily said.

They were silent again. Static electricity hung in the air, as scratchy as a dryer sheet. The birds chirped. Far in the distance, someone barked out a laugh. And then, suddenly, Emily twisted her body toward Ali. Before Ali knew what was happening, Emily’s lips were touching hers. They felt soft,
normal
, just like a guy’s lips, really, and for a split second, Ali shut her eyes and let the sensation wash over her. In many ways, it felt good to be adored so purely. It felt good to give someone exactly what she wanted.

But then she came back to herself and pulled back. This wasn’t what
she
wanted. And people would think it was weird. How dare Emily just assume Ali would be into this?

All Ali could see were the whites of Emily’s eyes. Ali felt a nasty smile settle across her lips. “Well,” she heard herself say, her voice taut and mean, “I guess that’s why you get so quiet when we’re changing for gym.”