Burned (16 page)

She pressed
READ
. The first picture loaded on the screen. The Cliff Resort’s famous roof deck was in sharp focus, five heads easily visible over the top. The picture was blurry, but Aria could make out her outstretched hands. Tabitha, in her yellow dress, stood next to her, about to topple over.

When Aria hit the right arrow, the next photo appeared. This shot had been taken a split second later, capturing the moment Aria had pushed Tabitha off. Her body hung in midair. Aria remained on the roof deck, her hands on her hips. She looked like a cold-blooded killer.

“Aria?” Graham stood behind her. “Is everything okay?”

Aria jumped and hid the screen with her hand. “Uh, everything’s fine,” she lied.

She stabbed at the keypad to delete both the photos, but for some reason, they wouldn’t disappear. Every time she clicked into her photo gallery again, there they were, front and center. Her heart thudded. Just having them on her phone made her feel like there was a bull’s-eye on her head. She
had
to get them off.

Her phone beeped again.
One new message
, a new alert said. Aria pressed
READ
.

That afternoon, Emily and Jordan waited at the top of the cliff in the rain forest. A thick layer of trees waved beneath them, frogs croaked from a hidden hollow, and a zip line swayed in the breeze. Emily watched as two kids in front of her grabbed the tandem zip line’s handles and pushed off. They soared through the air, whooping and laughing, and landed safely on the other side of the ravine. It didn’t look like a laughing matter to Emily, though. More like a death trap.

She edged closer to Jordan, who was fidgeting excitedly. “Are you sure we should do this?”

Jordan’s brow furrowed. “You’re not going to chicken out on me now, are you? I’ve wanted to do this for years.”

“What if the lines break?” Emily looked nervously at the chasm below. The instructor had said it was at least a forty-foot drop.

“The lines are superstrong.” Jordan inspected Emily carefully. “You’re really scared, aren’t you?”

Emily swallowed hard. “I had this friend who was sort of crazy. She took me to this gulch earlier this year, and we had a fight, and for a moment I was sure she was going to push me over the edge.” She shut her eyes and thought about that horrible night with Kelsey Pierce.

Jordan’s eyes widened. “Whoa.”

“I was fine, of course,” Emily said quickly. “My friend was fine, too. It just shook me up, that’s all.” She didn’t even want to get into how Mona Vanderwaal had fallen off the very same cliff the year before. Although she’d filled Jordan in on the basics about Ali and A, she hadn’t gotten into too many of the details. And she certainly hadn’t told her about New A.

“Look, I promise
I
won’t push you off anything,” Jordan said. “And how about this? If your line breaks, I’ll dive into the abyss after you. If we both die, at least we’ll get to explore the afterlife together.”

“Okay,” Emily whispered. She fumbled for Jordan’s hand. Jordan looked nervously back and forth, then laced her fingers in hers. Though they’d kissed in private plenty of times since their boat tour yesterday, they hadn’t been public about anything yet. Emily was hesitant to ask why. Maybe it was too fast. Or maybe Jordan was worried about what her new Ulster classmates would say about her having a girlfriend, which is how Emily had come to think of her.

Jordan was totally perfect. Last night, after their secret boat cruise, they’d opened up about everything, covering topics Emily hadn’t dared to explore with anyone before. Jordan revealed that she’d had a few lackluster boyfriends, and then she’d fallen for a toxic girl named Mackenzie. When Emily pushed for details, Jordan couldn’t go on. “It was just too painful,” she admitted. “You’re actually the first person I’ve ever talked to about her. You officially know more about me than anyone else.”

Another boy went on the zip line, letting out a keening wail as he drifted across the gully. Suddenly, Emily and Jordan were next in line. “You girls ready?” the instructor asked.

Emily’s feet felt buried in the mud, but Jordan dragged her forward. “Yep.” She grabbed Emily’s hand and squeezed it hard. “I’ll hold on to you the whole time. I promise.”

Emily shakily let the instructor harness her up. She could barely hold the zip line handles, her palms were sweating so badly. The instructor counted down, then yelled, “Go!” and Jordan jumped off. Emily had no choice but to go with her.

She felt her body being pulled downward toward the gully and screamed. But then, suddenly, she realized she wasn’t falling—she was floating. The harness held, and the mechanism speedily pulled her across the ravine. The wind whipped through her hair. Below her, she could see the forest floor, carpeted with tons of brilliantly hued flowers. Beside her, Jordan was laughing her head off. Emily shot her a euphoric grin.

In seconds, they were on the other side, breathless. Emily’s whole body trembled as the instructor removed her harness and helped her take off her helmet. Then she turned to Jordan. Her lips felt wobbly as she smiled. “Can we do it again?”

“Of course,” Jordan said. “I
knew
you’d love it.”

They rode the line across the ravine three more times. When they boarded the Jeep that would take them back to the boat, Emily checked her phone. Aria had texted, asking if Emily could meet her and Spencer in the common room. Emily didn’t ask why, but she assumed it was to rehearse their hula routine.

“I wish you could participate in the talent show,” Emily sighed, resting her head on Jordan’s shoulder. “Hanna dropped out, so we need one more.” She hadn’t told her friends about Jordan yet, but maybe she should. Would they really care that Jordan was a stowaway? Even Jordan herself didn’t seem too worried about it.

“I wish I could, too,” Jordan sighed. “But you know I can’t. I’ll watch from the audience, okay? And if you win, you’d better give me a ride on your Vespa.”

“
When
I win,” Emily corrected her.

At the boat, Jordan slipped past the guard in a group of kids so she wouldn’t have to show ID. They parted at the elevators, Jordan saying she was going to lie down in the room while Emily went to meet Aria. Then Jordan leaned in for a kiss. When they pulled away, Emily pushed a lock of hair behind Jordan’s ear. “I thought you were uncomfortable about us being affectionate in public,” she said.

Jordan shrugged. “This is new to me. But with you, I don’t have anything to hide.”

She kissed Emily once more, then disappeared into the elevator car. Emily glided toward the common room, humming the salsa song she’d heard on the radio on the ride back to the ship. As she passed a long bank of mirrors in the hallway, she laughed. Her lips were swollen and full, her skin pink from too much sun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked so
happy
.

She rounded the corner for the common room and scanned the couches. Neither Spencer nor Aria were there yet. She settled down on one of the couches, staring at the satellite feed of CNN on the TV that was mounted to the wall.
PREPPY THIEF STILL AT LARGE
read a banner across the bottom.

A reporter appeared. “We’ve been following the story all morning about how an eighteen-year-old New York girl known as the Preppy Thief escaped from her holding cell in Philadelphia three days ago.”

There was a video of a bunch of lawyers walking into a courthouse. “Notorious for stealing private planes, expensive boats, motorcycles, and cars for extravagant joyrides, Katherine DeLong was being held until her trial was set to begin later this week,” a voiceover said. “But early Sunday morning, security guards found her missing. Authorities suspect she is trying to flee the country. She’s very dangerous, and if anyone has information about her whereabouts …”

A mug shot of the Preppy Thief popped on the screen. Emily squinted at it, then did a double-take. Was that …
Jordan
?

“Emily?”

Emily looked up. Spencer and Aria stood behind her, the grass skirts they had made a few days ago in their hands. They looked from the television to Emily’s stricken face, confused.

“I …” Emily trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Her gaze returned to the TV. Now the news showed a video of Jordan walking out of a courthouse in an orange jumpsuit. Next flashed a photo of Jordan in a tennis dress and shoes, a familiar silk headband in her hair. Another video appeared of Jordan in court. A lawyer whispered in her ear. There were shiny handcuffs on her wrists and shackles on her ankles.

It felt like the ceiling was crumbling in. Anger boiled inside of Emily, sudden and fierce. With shaking hands, she grabbed her phone and composed a text to Jordan.
I know who you are, you liar
, she wrote.
I don’t want to ever see you again. Get out of my room now
. As she hit
SEND
, she let out a sob.

“Emily?” Aria looked concerned. “What’s going on?”

“Do you know that girl?” Spencer asked, pointing at the TV.

Emily’s mouth felt like it was filled with peanut butter. “That’s my new … she’s … I
know
her.”

“Oh my God,” Aria whispered. “Is this girl the new friend you met? Is she on the boat?”

Emily nodded weakly, afraid to give away any more.

Beep
.

Her eyes filling with tears, she looked down at her phone, bracing herself for what Jordan might say. But when she pulled up the screen, it said
One new text message from Anonymous
.

There was a hot flash through her chest. She looked around. The common room overflowed with kids—they were on the couches, sitting at the tables, playing pinball on the
Simpsons
-themed machine in the corner. She thought she saw a flash of blond hair disappear around the corner. Emily stood up halfway and peered into the hall, but the figure had vanished.

She looked down at the message.

“
California Gurls, duh duh duh DUH duh duh!
” Naomi and Hanna sang as they walked down the cobblestoned streets of Old San Juan later that night. They were on their way to a club Naomi had been invited to that afternoon and had decided to fit in a quick rehearsal for their talent show routine on the way. Passersby kept giving them strange looks.

“Hey, we should see if we can find blue and purple wigs,” Naomi suggested, sidestepping a sewer grate in her high heels. “Maybe there’s a costume store at the last stop. Or maybe we can borrow a wig from someone in Cirque du Soleil.” She snickered.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if we found a guy to play Snoop Dog?” Hanna suggested, thinking about the video.

“Oh my God, that would be
classic
,” Naomi squealed. Then she sighed. “Damn. The guy I was into would’ve made a perfect Snoop—he’s such a pothead. But now that he’s with Spencer, it’s like he wants nothing to do with me.”

“We’ll find someone else,” Hanna said quickly as they passed a closed-up boutique with bikini-clad mannequins in the window. She wasn’t about to mess with a Naomi-Spencer love triangle, especially if Naomi was A. Which was something she
still
wasn’t quite sure of.

Naomi breezily pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Or maybe I’ll find a way to get him back.”

Before Hanna could ask what
that
meant, they’d turned the corner and arrived at the club. Pounding bass and raucous laughter filled the air. A line of well-dressed people stood outside the unmarked double doors. When Hanna and Naomi waved their VIP invites, the bouncer lifted the velvet rope to let them in.

“Thanks!” Naomi trilled, as though she’d known the guy for years. Hanna trailed behind her, feeling the envious stares of everyone in the line. She glanced at her and Naomi’s reflections in the long bank of mirrors that lined the hallway. They’d planned their outfits together, both wearing jewel-toned dresses, high, strappy heels, and coordinated jewelry. They’d sat side-by-side to do their makeup, gossiping about people on the boat as they applied foundation and swept on mascara.

The tunnel opened into a large, square, dark room with a long, stainless-steel bar at one end and a bunch of banquettes at the back. A DJ spun records in the corner, and a huge dance floor took up the rest of the space. Bodies writhed on all sides of them, each guy more gorgeous than the last. The room smelled like booze, cigarettes, and the gardenia blooms that adorned every table. As the salsa beat rocked in Hanna’s ears, she unconsciously began to swing her hips.

Hanna touched Naomi’s shoulder. “This is great!” she yelled over the music.

“Right?” Naomi grinned, strutting up to the bar and batting her eyelashes at the bartender, who came over immediately.

Naomi ordered two neon-orange cocktails and handed one to Hanna. Hanna took a small sip—she didn’t want to drink too much and let down her guard. People were dancing in every nook and cranny, including on top of the banquettes. There was a photographer wandering the perimeter with a huge digital camera around his neck, occasionally stopping and taking a shot of the dancers. After a moment, he stopped in front of them. “Can I take your photo?” he asked.