Read Ali's Pretty Little Lies Online

Authors: Sara Shepard

Ali's Pretty Little Lies (26 page)

BOOK: Ali's Pretty Little Lies
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“There’s nothing wrong with them,” Ali said defensively, suddenly feeling a rush of protectiveness for her friends. “They’re really sweet.”


They’re really sweet
,” Courtney mimicked. “Do you think they’ll still do everything you ask when they find out what you did?”

“They’ll never believe you,” Ali said, but even she heard the waver in her voice.

Courtney raised her chin. “They will if I tell them the truth about you.”

Ali tensed. All of a sudden, anger rushed through her, hot and potent. “The
truth
?” she asked. “And what would that be? How you manipulated me for years? How you got
me
sent to the hospital instead of you? How you stood there and
told them
I had to go away?”

“You
did
have to go away,” Courtney said, her voice eerily calm. “And you’re going to have to go again. You’re going to tell everyone what you did. And they’re never,
ever
going to forgive you.”

Fear streaked through Ali’s veins, but she stood her ground. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, planting her feet in the wet, chilly grass. She laughed as confidently as she could. “Do you really think it would be easy for you to step into my life and be me? I’ve done things you aren’t capable of. I’m better at being you than you ever were.”

“It’s
my
life,” her sister snarled, placing her hands firmly on Ali’s shoulders. “You really think I’m going to have a hard time? I can even be friends with those stupid bitches, if that’s what it takes. I can do this with my eyes closed.”

“No, you can’t,” Ali said. “You don’t know anything.”

Courtney snorted. “Please. I read your diary—
my
diary. I know everything about them, about you. You put every secret in there, everything important.”

“Not everything,” Ali snapped, thinking of Nick. Thank God she’d left him out. She wished she could lord that over Courtney right now—he had, after all, been her unrequited crush. But now that they were over, her twin would just laugh at her.

“You certainly put in enough in your diary,” Courtney taunted. “That’s how I figured out that we’ve been calling the wrong guy Dad. Watch where you store your secrets,
Ali.
Anyone can open up a diary and find out all kinds of things.” She took Ali’s arm. “And now it’s time for you to say good-bye. Let’s go find Mom and our real father, shall we? We can tell them everything!”

She clamped down hard on Ali’s shoulders and tried to steer her toward the Hastingses’ house, but Ali folded her body in half and twisted away. Courtney grabbed her around the waist and yanked her across the grass, but Ali stumbled, pulling her sister down with her.

“Get
up
, bitch!” Courtney yelled.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Ali pulled hard on her twin’s hair and rolled over on top of Courtney, pinning her onto the prickly grass. The old feelings rushed back—she was that little nine-year-old girl again, fighting against a force so crazy, so manipulative, she didn’t know what else to do but hit her, punch her, lose her mind.

But then, suddenly, she snapped back into herself. This was crazy. She hated her sister, but she couldn’t fall back into that trap. She had to be the bigger person.

She rolled off Courtney, stood, and started toward the house. But just a few steps in, a hand snaked around her ankle, and she was sprawled on the grass once more. She felt her sister’s body press on top of her. The ends of her long hair tickled the back of Ali’s neck.

“I guess it’s plan B, then,” Courtney whispered. She moved off Ali and, before Ali could go anywhere, grabbed Ali’s ankles and dragged her toward the very edge of the property as though she were a rag doll. Ali howled and clawed at the ground, but her fingers couldn’t get a grip. When they passed some of the discarded tools, her heart picked up pace. Was she dragging her toward the hole?

Ali tried to call out, but she couldn’t draw in a full breath. The house was so far away, the Hastingses’ barn now dark. Where had her friends gone? Had they left? Then she thought of Ian, waiting for her in the woods somewhere. Maybe
he
was the one who’d been smoking. She peered desperately into the black trees, praying he saw her. But the forest was silent. No branches crackled underfoot. No one emerged.

Her twin stopped dragging her when she was at the edge of the hole. Ali tried to scramble up, but Courtney pushed her down again, her eyes blazing. “I should have done this years ago,” she growled. And then she shot her hands toward Ali’s neck, ready to strangle her.

“No!” Ali screamed. “Please!”

But her twin just tightened her grip. “You deserve this,” she said in a detached, almost automated voice. “You deserve to die for what you did.”

No, I don’t!
Ali kicked her legs and thrashed her arms. She twisted her neck and got a gulp of air. “I’ll do anything!” she cried. “Tell the truth—I don’t care! Just don’t
kill
me!”

“You deserve to die,” Courtney repeated.

When she readjusted for a better grip, Ali took a huge breath, her lungs screaming. “Remember how it used to be? When we used to be
friends
?”

“We were
never
friends,” her twin hissed.

“Yes, we were! I loved you! You loved me! I . . . I
miss
that!”

Courtney’s grip let up just a little bit, and Ali twisted to the side to free herself. She coughed violently, her lungs feeling like they’d never fill again. She scrambled backward, sat up, and looked hard at her sister. Courtney was breathing hard, her eyes wide. She stared at her hands with wonderment, as if she’d never seen them before.

Then she looked up at Ali. “I can’t,” she said in a small voice.

“Can’t what?” Ali dared to ask.

Courtney’s jaw trembled. “I want to kill you. But I
can’t
.”

Relief flooded Ali’s body. “Of course you can’t,” she said. “We’re sisters.”

Courtney glanced at her cagily. Once more, she peered at her hands. She shifted toward Ali, her eyes flashing again.

“M-maybe we can start over,” Ali bargained. If she kept talking, maybe she could keep her twin’s craziness at bay until someone came looking for them. “I can be me. You can be you. You can be Alison DiLaurentis again.”

Courtney blinked. “Just like that, you’ll switch back?”

Ali nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat. “Just like that.” She reached out and touched her sister’s hand, a tender gesture she hadn’t made in years. “I just want a sister again,” she said softly. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Courtney’s head remained down for a few more beats. A strong scent of uprooted dirt swirled through the air, and for a moment, the crickets were silent. Then she breathed out a long, slow sigh. She covered Ali’s hand with her other one. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You
can
,” Ali urged. “Please.”

“I . . .” “Courtney” trailed off. Her eyes widened on something behind her. “You’re here,” she whispered.

Ali tried to turn around to see who’d come. A parent? Ian? One of her friends? But before she could, her sister’s gaze hardened once more, her resolve apparent. She lunged forward and shoved her hard.

Ali expected to hit grass immediately, but she felt nothing but air. She screamed out as the world turned upside down, and then her neck banged on something sharp and metallic. For a moment everything went black, then she heard a horrible
clang
in her ears. All the air seemed to leave her body as she hit the cold, flat, unforgiving earth. Something cracked close by. After a second, Ali realized it was a bone inside her body.

She was at the bottom of the hole.

She tried to scream, but her mouth wouldn’t open. Only a square of light peeked out far above her head. Stars twinkled in the distance. A sliver of moon peeked from behind a cloud.

“Help!” she cried, but it was only in her head. Her heart shuddered inside her chest like a seized engine. A strange, snapping sensation was taking place beneath her skin, nerves gone haywire. After a moment, she realized she wasn’t breathing—
couldn’t
breathe. She tried to claw, tried to fight, but it felt like every cell in her body was weighed down with sand. Then she realized what was going on. She was
dying.

A figure appeared over the hole. Ali’s twin looked in, a strange mix of horror and relief on her face. She stared down at her hands again with that same where-did-these-come-from expression. Then she turned and looked at something just out of view.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” she said. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

At first, Ali thought Courtney was talking to her, but then a voice answered. “Of course I made it. I’ll always come for you.”

Ali strained to listen. It was a voice she was sure she recognized, a voice she’d heard many times before. But her brain, with its dying cells and lack of oxygen, couldn’t quite put the pieces together. She tried to lift her head to get a glimpse of who it was, but her neck wouldn’t move.

“Are you happy?” the voice said.

Courtney’s jaw wobbled. “I don’t know,” she said, looking back down in the hole, a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I just . . .
did
that.”

“But it was our plan all along.”

Suddenly, Ali realized whose voice it was. She tried to react, tried to scream, but she could feel herself slipping away inch by inch, first her feet, then her calves, then her knees. She struggled to stay present, but it was just too much of an effort. She stared at the top of the hole until her sister’s figure was nothing but a big blob of light and shadow. She thought of the second voice, that voice she knew. Only one question screamed over and over in her brain:
Why?

But before she could answer, the dying feeling, like a candle fizzling out, had reached her neck. She inhaled the last breath she would ever take, and then shut her eyes. After a moment, amid the dirt and the rocks and the earthworms, she breathed out and finally let go.

34

MISSING: ALISON DILAURENTIS

The following morning, the real Alison DiLaurentis watched the sun come up through the maple blinds in her old bedroom. Bands of light illuminated the vanity she’d begged her mom to buy for her in fifth grade, the blue crystal knobs on her closet and bureau drawers, the faint patina of dust on the flat-screen monitor and TV. This room even
smelled
the same, like vanilla hand soap. It felt like home.

Finally.

The aroma of coffee brewing in the kitchen wafted into her nostrils. When she looked over the railing, her family was already awake. Mr. and Mrs. DiLaurentis sat at the kitchen table, staring blearily at each other. Jason paced the hall, looking worried.

Just one family member was missing, though Ali certainly wouldn’t miss her.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her eyes had always been bluer than her sister’s, the cheekbones in her heart-shaped face more pronounced. She was the more beautiful twin, the
rightful
queen bee of Rosewood Day. Now it was time to reclaim her throne from that bitch. Just thinking of her, just picturing her face, still filled Ali with rage. How
dare
she go outside in sixth grade and pretend she was someone she wasn’t. How
dare
she show up at the Preserve during those visits and pick at her perfect manicure or text with her friends while their parents tried to make conversation. That bitch
deserved
everything she got. And now Ali would never have to worry about her again.

She walked downstairs, her head held high. But when she entered the kitchen, her family looked up and paled as if they’d seen a ghost. Mrs. DiLaurentis stepped forward and touched her arm. “I think you should go back upstairs, Courtney.”

Ali stopped short. “I already told you. I’m
not
Courtney. I’m Ali.”

Her parents exchanged a worried glance. A thin ribbon of fear began to niggle its way into Ali’s brain. She knew that look.
It is happening again.

And now their other daughter was missing.

Last night, when she’d come home, Ali hadn’t expected her father to be awake—or for her mother to be home—but she still thought she’d pulled it off okay. They’d both caught her as she was sneaking up the stairs and yelled out her name—her
real
name.

“Hey, Mom, hey, Dad,” she’d said breezily, staying in the shadows so they couldn’t see her disheveled hair or the bruise on her cheek. “The sleepover was a bust. We kind of got into a fight. I’m off to bed.”

She made it to her old bedroom and shut the door. Once inside, she’d scrubbed at her hands and brushed her hair. Her brain had whirled, trying to come up with what she and her friends had been fighting about. It had looked like her sister was trying to hypnotize them or something, right? But Spencer wasn’t into it. And then her sister and Spencer got into that stupid fight about Ian Thomas outside the barn—Ali heard everything.

Then a knock had sounded on her door.

She’d jumped up and offered her parents, who were standing nervously in the hall, a twitchy smile. Their gazes zipped to Ali’s pointer finger, which, of course, was missing its initial ring. Then they looked at her wrist. It was naked; no Jenna Thing string bracelet.
Crap.

“Courtney?” Mrs. DiLaurentis asked tentatively. “Honey, were you outside?”

“I’m not Courtney,” Ali said, frowning. “I’m Ali. See? This is why I didn’t want you to bring her home. It’s so confusing.”

She tried to shut the door, but Mr. DiLaurentis stuck his hand on the jamb before she could. “This isn’t your room, Courtney,” he said with authority.

And you aren’t my dad
, Ali wanted to snap. “Yes, it is,” she said instead, and then glowered at him. “And please don’t call me Courtney. It’s insulting.”

Mrs. DiLaurentis looked confused. “Were you trying to hang out with your sister and her friends? Did you go into Spencer’s barn?”

BOOK: Ali's Pretty Little Lies
5.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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