by Sara Shepard
As if she knew everything.
Chapter 25
“BUT SOFT! WHAT LIGHT THROUGH YONDER WINDOW BREAKS?”
Hanna opened her eyes. A digital clock blazed a big red 2:14 A.M. across the room. A huge poster for a band called Beach House hung on the wall, and the windows were covered with blackout shades. This wasn’t either of her bedrooms. Where the hell was she?
The bedsprings squeaked as she sat up. Pale light from the hallway glinted on a mirror across the room. A beaded curtain hung from the closet door. A four-leaf clover air freshener swung from the lamp switch. Hanna saw a picture of a girl with red hair in a silver Tiffany frame on the desk. Next to it were four AP textbooks.
Hanna inhaled sharply. This was Kelsey’s dorm room at Penn—she recalled some of the details from when she’d snuck in there last summer. But how was she here now . . . and why?
A hand touched her shoulder. Hanna swung around and almost screamed. There, standing before her, was a familiar blond girl with a heart-shaped face and a haunting smile. It was Real Ali. She was dressed in a blue oxford shirt and a white blazer, which she’d worn to the press conference last year when the DiLaurentises had announced her return to Rosewood.
“Looking to plant something?” Ali teased, tilting her hips.
“Of course not!” Hanna hid the pill bottle behind her back. “And what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be . . .”
“Dead?” Ali covered her mouth and giggled. “You know better than that, don’t you, Han?” And then she rushed for Hanna, her arms outstretched.
Hanna shot straight up in bed, gasping for air. She ran her fingers along the cool sheets and waited for her heartbeat to slow down. She was in the little loft room at her dad’s house again. The heater hissed softly in the corner. Her door was closed, and the TV was muted to a late-late showing of The Hangover.
But Ali’s presence still felt so real. She could practically smell her vanilla soap.
Bzzz. Hanna looked over. Her iPhone glowed with a new text from Liam.
Hey. Go to your balcony.
She cautiously slipped out of her sheets and tiptoed to the double doors that led to the Juliet balcony. Dot rose from his dog bed and followed her. The latch made a squeak when it turned. The doors groaned as she pulled them open. A whoosh of frigid air swept in, bringing with it the cold, dead smell of winter.
“Boo.”
Hanna screamed. Dot let out a sharp yap. “Whoa!” Liam said, grabbing Hanna’s shoulders. “It’s okay! It’s just me!”
“You scared me!” Hanna cried. Dot started barking hysterically.
“Shhh.” Liam leaned down to pet the dog. “This is supposed to be a secret rendezvous, not a party for all the neighbors!”
Hanna stared at Liam. He was wearing a J. Crew anorak, a thick black scarf, dark jeans, and hiking boots. Then she looked at the long drop to the yard. “How did you know where I lived? And how did you get up here?”
“I looked you up on Google,” Liam answered. “And I climbed.” He gestured to a trellis on the side of the house.
“You can’t be here,” Hanna whispered. “My dad’s one flight down! And I think my stepsister’s onto us!”
Liam tucked a lock of hair behind Hanna’s ear. “I thought we could have a sleepover.”
“Are you insane?” Hanna glanced at her closed bedroom door, half expecting Kate to poke her head in—or worse, for her dad and Isabel to appear. What would she do with Liam then? Push him off the balcony? Stuff him under the bed?
Liam grabbed her hands. “Tell me you haven’t missed me.”
Hanna stared down at her pale feet sticking out of her pajama pants, then glanced at the Cornelius Maximilian stuffed Rottweiler in the bed. She stood to lose everything if she let Liam stay here. But when she looked at Liam’s soft, warm eyes, his devilish grin, and the adorable dimple in his right cheek again, her heart melted.
Without a word, Hanna pulled him into the bedroom. They tumbled into Hanna’s bed and immediately started making out. Liam’s hands roamed all over Hanna’s body, and his lips devoured her skin. She felt him suck hard on her neck, surely creating a hickey, but she didn’t care.
Then he flopped back on the bed and looked at her. “I feel so comfortable with you, like I can tell you anything and you won’t judge me. No other girl has made me feel like this before.”
“I feel the same way about you,” Hanna gushed. “It’s incredible.”
“Magical,” Liam whispered. “I never used to believe in soul mates before, but now I’ve changed my mind.”
Hanna propped up her head on her hand. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”
“Like my fear of spiders admission wasn’t enough?” Liam rolled onto his back. A few moments passed before he spoke. “I had an imaginary friend when I was little. He was a vampire.”
Hanna wrinkled her nose. “Seriously?”
“Uh huh. His name was Frank, and he looked like Dracula. He slept in my closet, upside down like a bat. I used to make my mom set an extra plate for him at dinner.”
A little giggle escaped out of Hanna’s mouth. “Why a vampire?”
Liam shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed like a cool idea. I wanted Frank to be my dad instead of my real dad. We didn’t exactly get along.” He shot Hanna an uneasy look. “We still don’t.”
Hanna shifted on the pillow, not wanting to talk about Liam’s father. “I had a lot of imaginary friends, too. My dad and I invented some of them, actually. Like this big owl named Hortense who watched over me when I slept—I was afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone. When I was in fourth grade and had no real friends, my dad used to draw pictures of Hortense on my lunch bag. It was really sweet.” She closed her eyes and pictured her father’s crude, shaky drawings on the brown paper bags. She’d stashed a lot of them in her school binder, looking at them when she felt particularly lonely. But then, in fifth grade, the drawings abruptly stopped. That was about the time her parents started fighting.
“That’s so great that your dad was there for you,” Liam said quietly.
Hanna sniffed. “Well, he used to be.”
“What happened?”
Dot snored in the corner, fast asleep again. The small strip of light under the door was an unwavering yellow. Hanna pictured her father in his king-sized bed downstairs, Isabel next to him. She imagined Kate in her queen bed in the room next to them, a sleeping mask over her eyes. Hanna’s father said there were no guest rooms on their floor, but when Hanna had passed down that hall, she’d noticed a bedroom on the other side of her dad’s, full of Isabel’s quilting supplies. Why hadn’t he put Hanna in that room instead? Didn’t he remember how Hanna used to be afraid of the dark and suffered from bad dreams? Hanna would’ve been mortally embarrassed if he would’ve pointed it out, but it would’ve been nice if he’d offered.
It was sweet that he’d found Cornelius, but was that really enough? It still felt like he was holding her at arm’s length, still considering her separate from his real family.
Hanna looked at Liam, feeling overcome with sadness. “My dad and I used to be really close,” she said, “but then things changed.” She told him how she’d become friends with Ali in the midst of her parents’ divorce, but even being the most popular girl at Rosewood Day didn’t make up for her father leaving. She recounted the mortifying episode in Annapolis when she and Ali first met Kate. “When Kate came along, I never felt good enough,” she sighed. “I always thought my dad liked her better.”
Liam nodded and asked questions, holding Hanna’s hand when she felt like she was about to cry. “Things are a lot better between us now, and I shouldn’t complain,” she said. “But I just wish I could go back to when my dad and I were tight. The thing is, that time I want to go back to? I wasn’t happy. I might have been popular, but I was still fat and ugly and ruthlessly teased by my best friend. So would I really want to go back to that? It’s like I’m pining for this time that doesn’t exist.”
&n
bsp; Liam sighed. “I pine for the time when my parents got along.”
“I’m so sorry about everything that happened between them,” Hanna whispered. “That must be so hard.”
A faraway look swept over Liam’s face. He sighed deeply and took Hanna’s hands. “You’re the only positive thing in my life right now. Promise me we’ll never let anything come between us. And promise me you’ll tell me everything. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
“Of course.” A niggling thought poked the back of Hanna’s brain. She certainly hadn’t told Liam everything—not yet. He didn’t know about New A. Or Kelsey. Or Tabitha.
The dorm room from her dream swirled in her mind, fresh and vivid. On the night Spencer had summoned her to Penn, the drive from Rosewood to Philly had been a blur. Hanna parked where Spencer instructed her to and found the propped-open entrance without any trouble. No one stopped her when she punched in the key code to Kelsey’s room. No one said anything when the latch clicked and she slipped inside. Hanna had removed the pills from her pocket and shoved them under Kelsey’s pillow, then changed her mind and pushed them into an empty bedside drawer instead. She was out of the room again a half minute later. Two minutes after that, she was on the phone to the police, telling them exactly what Spencer had wanted her to say.
The guilt hadn’t hit her until she was driving home and passed a cop on the side of the highway administering a drunk-driving test to two kids. One of them looked a little like Kelsey, with gingery hair and thin, compact legs. Suddenly, Hanna imagined what the real Kelsey was probably going through that very moment, all because of Hanna. Didn’t Hanna have enough to feel guilty for from Jamaica? Should she pull over, call the cops, and tell them she’d made a mistake?
Hanna breathed in sharply now. If she had told the cops it was a mistake, would A—Kelsey—be haunting them now? Maybe they deserved New A’s wrath. Maybe they’d brought this on themselves.
“What are you thinking about?”
Hanna blinked, returning to the room. Liam had stopped rubbing her shoulders and was inspecting her face carefully. The secret lingered so close, almost like a third party in the bed. Maybe it would be safe to tell Liam. Maybe he would help her figure out what to do.
But then a car passed outside, its motor revving. Something tickled in her nose, and she let out a sneeze. Just those two simple actions shifted the moment. She couldn’t tell Liam. Not any of it. “Nothing,” she said softly. “I’m just so happy to be with you right now.”
Liam engulfed Hanna in a huge hug. “I’m happy to be with you, too.”
He sounded calm and content. But even after he fell asleep in Hanna’s arms, Hanna stared at the ceiling, wide awake. No matter how hard she tried, she had a feeling none of her secrets would remain hidden for long.
Not if A had anything to do with it.
Chapter 26
DIDN’T ARIA’S MOM TELL HER NO BOYS IN HER ROOM?
On Friday afternoon, Ezra poked his head into Aria’s bedroom at Ella’s house and smiled. “Wow. It’s just how I pictured it.”
“Really?” Aria said, thrilled that he’d bothered to picture her bedroom.
A school bus rumbled at the corner, letting kids off. Ella was at the gallery, and Mike was at a lacrosse clinic, which meant Aria and Ezra had the place to themselves for the hour. Then Aria had to meet Klaudia to talk about the art history project. Now, Aria gazed around her bedroom, trying to see it through Ezra’s eyes. There were the old bookshelves Byron had found at a flea market, stuffed with books and magazines. A jumble of necklaces, makeup, perfume bottles, and hats sat atop an antique dressing table Ella had started refinishing before getting bored halfway through. On her bureau was her collection of stuffed animals, which she’d hastily gathered up from her bed this morning, when she had an inkling that Ezra might be coming this afternoon. Ezra didn’t have to know she still slept with Pigtunia, Mr. Knitted Cat, Mr. Knitted Goat, and Ms. Knitted Square-Thing-With-Noodly Arms, which Noel had won for Aria at a carnival last summer. In fact, Aria didn’t know why she still had Ms. Knitted Square Thing sitting out anymore. Noel might have been cute that day, throwing darts at the balloons until he got Aria exactly the toy she wanted, but she was sure Ezra would be even cuter at a carnival if given the opportunity.
Ezra ran his fingers over a pleated lampshade she’d found at a vintage shop, smiled at the pen-and-ink self-portrait Aria had drawn in tenth grade, and gazed at the Canada geese in the pond out the window. “This is such a great little hideaway. Are you sure you want to leave it?”
“You mean to go to New York?” Aria flopped down on the bed. “I have to leave sometime.”
“But . . . so soon? Finishing up high school online? Have you talked to your parents about it?”
Aria bristled, irritated that Ezra was bringing up her parents like she was a child. “They’ll understand. They lived in New York once, too, when they were young.” She tilted her head, sudden panic gripping her heart. “Why? Do you not want me to come back with you?” The run-in with Klaudia flashed through her mind. Though she’d promised herself not to bring up the fact that he had let Klaudia read his manuscript, she couldn’t help but still feel a jealous twinge.
“Of course I want you to come.” Ezra squeezed her thigh. “It’s just . . . you’re not leaving for some other reason, are you? I saw Noel Kahn yesterday at the McDonald’s drive-thru. . . .”
Aria laughed awkwardly. “This isn’t because of Noel.”
What else could she say? Well, there’s a certain someone named A who knows about the most horrible thing I’ve ever done? And, oh yeah, A also wants to kill me? Emily had called last night and told her that A had pushed her down a steep hill at the Stockbridge trail. It scared the hell out of her. She needed to get out of town, away from psycho A, and enormous, anonymous New York seemed like a perfect hiding place.
She took Ezra’s face in her hands. “I want to go because of you and only you. I’ve been looking at places in Brooklyn—we could get something amazing there. Maybe we could get a dog. Or a cat, if you’re more of a cat person. We could walk the cat around on a little leash.”
“That sounds perfect,” Ezra murmured, brushing a piece of hair out of Aria’s eyes. “If you’re serious about this, I’ll start making arrangements, and we can leave in a couple of days.”
Aria leaned forward to kiss him, and Ezra kissed her back. But when she opened her eyes for a moment, his were open, too. He was staring at something across the room.
“Is that a first edition?” He sat back and pointed at a book on the bookshelf. The Sun Also Rises, it said in gold lettering on the spine. “It looks really old.”
“Nah, my dad stole that from the Hollis library.” Aria rose, pulled the book out, and brought it to him. When he opened to the title page, a musty, old-book smell wafted out. “It’s one of my favorites, though.”
Ezra poked her knee. “I thought my book was your favorite.”
His tone was light and joking, but he looked serious. Was he really asking her to compare him to Hemingway? “Well, I mean, The Sun Also Rises was a literary masterpiece,” she blurted. “But yours was good, too. Really good.”
Ezra pulled his hands away from hers and balled them in his lap. “Maybe it’s not.”
Aria resisted a groan. Had he always had this insecure streak, or was his novel bringing it out in him? “Your book is awesome,” she said, kissing his nose. “Now come lie next to me.”
Ezra reluctantly flopped onto Aria’s pillow. She began to stroke his hair. Seconds later, the door slammed downstairs. “Aria?” Ella’s voice called out.
Aria shot up, her heart in her throat. “Shit.”
“What?” Ezra sat up too.
“It’s my mom. She wasn’t supposed to be back for hours.” Aria jumped up from the bed and pressed her feet into her shoes. She handed Ezra his wingtips. “We have to get out of here.”
A corner of Ezra’s mouth drooped. “You don’t want to introduce me to he
r?”
Downstairs, Ella’s heels clacked on the wood floor. Aria’s mind scattered in ten different directions. “I . . . I haven’t had time to prep her.” She stared at Ezra’s blank expression. “You were my teacher last year. My mom went to a parent-teacher conference with you. Don’t you think that’s a little awkward?”
Ezra lifted a shoulder. “Not really.”
Aria gawked at him, surprised. But there was no time to argue. “Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the stairs just as Ella shut herself inside the powder room. She grabbed Ezra’s coat from the hall closet, thrust it at him, and shoved him out the door.
Outside, the world smelled like sunbaked sidewalks and smoking chimneys. Aria walked down the stone path toward Ezra’s Volkswagen, which was parked at the curb. “We’ll talk about New York soon, okay?” she babbled. “I have a ton of cool apartments to show you.”
“Aria, wait.”
Aria turned. Ezra had stopped at the edge of the porch, his hands in his pockets. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”
“Of course not.” Aria took a few steps toward him. “But I’m not ready to explain to my mom what’s going on right now. I’d rather do it alone, when I can compose my thoughts.”
Ezra stared at her for a few beats more, his eyes dark, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Or . . . wait.” Aria squeezed her eyes shut. “I have a school thing tomorrow.” It was the only performance of Macbeth, and Aria and Ella were going to watch Mike and then go to the cast party. There was no way Aria was bringing Ezra to something at Rosewood Day. “How about Sunday?”
“Sunday it is.” Ezra kissed her cheek, climbed into his car, and drove off.
Aria watched him go, hugging her arms to her chest. A shadow shifted to her left, and she turned. In the thick brush that separated her house from the neighbor’s, something moved. Aria caught a flash of blond hair. Footsteps slid across the wet leaves.
