by Sara Shepard
Aria moved away quickly. “Are you okay?” Ezra asked.
“Yeah.” She busied herself by straightening her school blazer. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Ezra answered, jamming his hands in his jacket pockets. “So…see you.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Aria walked out of the classroom, her breathing fast and shallow. Maybe she was nuts, but she was pretty sure Ezra had held her for a second longer than he needed to. And she was certain she’d liked it.
3 THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS BAD PRESS
During their free period Monday afternoon, Hanna Marin and her best friend, Mona Vanderwaal, were sitting in the corner booth of Steam, Rosewood Day’s coffee bar, doing what they did best: ripping on people who weren’t as fabulous as they were.
Mona poked Hanna with one end of her chocolate-dipped biscotti. To Mona, food was more like a prop, less like something to eat. “Jennifer Feldman’s got some logs, doesn’t she?”
“Poor girl.” Hanna mock-pouted. Logs was Mona’s shorthand term for tree-trunk legs: solid and unshapely thighs and calves with no tapering from knees to ankles.
“And her feet look like overstuffed sausage casings in those heels!” Mona cawed.
Hanna snickered, watching as Jennifer, who was on the diving team, hung up a poster on the far wall that read, SWIM MEET TOMORROW! ROSEWOOD DAY HAMMERHEADS VS. DRURY ACADEMY EELS! Her ankles were hideously thick. “That’s what girls with fat ankles get when they try to wear Louboutins,” Hanna sighed. She and Mona were the thin-ankled sylphs Christian Louboutin shoes were meant for, obviously.
Mona took a big sip of her Americano and pulled out her Gucci wallet diary from her eggplant-colored Botkier purse. Hanna nodded approvingly. They had other things to do besides criticize people today, like plan not one but two parties: one for the two of them, and the second for the rest of Rosewood Day’s elite.
“First things first.” Mona uncapped her pen. “The Frenniversary. What should we do tonight? Shopping? Massages? Dinner?”
“All of that,” Hanna answered. “And we definitely have to hit Otter.” Otter was a new high-end boutique at the mall.
“I’m loving Otter,” Mona agreed.
“Where should we have dinner?” Hanna asked.
“Rive Gauche, of course,” Mona said loudly, talking over the groaning coffee grinder.
“You’re right. They’ll definitely give us wine.”
“Should we invite boys?” Mona’s blue eyes gleamed.
“Eric Kahn keeps calling me. Maybe Noel could come for you?”
Hanna frowned. Despite being cute, incredibly rich and part of the über-sexy clan of Kahn brothers, Noel wasn’t really her type. “No boys,” she decided. “Although that’s very cool about Eric.”
“This is going to be a fabulous Frenniversary.” Mona grinned so broadly that her dimples showed. “Can you believe this is our third?”
Hanna smiled. Their Frenniversary marked the day Hanna and Mona had talked on the phone for three and a half hours—the obvious indicator that they were best friends. Although they’d known each other since kindergarten, they’d never really spoken before cheerleading tryouts a few weeks before the first day of eighth grade. By then, Ali had been missing for two months and Hanna’s old friends had become really distant, so she’d decided to give Mona a chance. It was worth it—Mona was funny, sarcastic, and, despite her thing for animal backpacks and Razor scooters, she secretly devoured Vogue and Teen Vogue as ravenously as Hanna did. Within weeks, they’d decided to be best friends and transform themselves into the most popular girls at school. And look: Now they had.
“Now for the bigger plans,” Mona said, flipping another page of her notebook. “Sweet seventeen,” she sang to the MTV My Super Sweet Sixteen melody.
“It’s going to rock,” Hanna gushed. Mona’s birthday was this Saturday, and she had almost all the party details in place. She was going to have it at the Hollis Planetarium, where there were telescopes in every room—even the bathrooms. She’d booked a DJ, caterers, and a trapeze school—so guests could swing over the dance floor—as well as a videographer, who would film the party and simultaneously webcast it onto a Jumbotron screen. Mona had carefully instructed guests to wear formal dress only on the invites. If someone turned up in jeans or Juicy sweats, security would not-so-politely turn them away.
“So I was thinking,” Mona said, stuffing a napkin into her empty paper coffee cup. “It’s a little last-minute, but I’m going to have a court.”
“A court?” Hanna raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“It’s an excuse to get that fabulous Zac Posen dress you keep frothing over at Saks—the fitting is tomorrow. And we’ll wear tiaras and make the boys bow down to us.”
Hanna stifled a giggle. “We’re not going to do an opening dance number, are we?” She and Mona had been on Julia Rubenstein’s party court last year, and Julia had made them do a dance routine with a bunch of D-list male models. Hanna’s dance partner smelled like garlic and had immediately asked her if she wanted to join him in the coatroom. She’d spent the rest of the party running away from him.
Mona scoffed, breaking her biscotti into smaller pieces. “Would I do something as lame as that?”
“Of course not.” Hanna rested her chin in her hands.
“So I’m the only girl in the court, right?”
Mona rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”
Hanna shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know who else you could pick.”
“We just need to get you a date.” Mona placed the tiniest piece of biscotti in her mouth.
“I don’t want to take anyone from Rosewood Day,” Hanna said quickly. “Maybe I’ll ask someone from Hollis. And I’ll bring more than one date.” Her eyes lit up. “I could have a whole load of guys carry me around all night, like Cleopatra.”
Mona gave her a high five. “Now you’re talking.”
Hanna chewed on the end of her straw. “I wonder if Sean will come.”
“Don’t know.” Mona raised an eyebrow. “You’re over him, right?”
“Of course.” Hanna pushed her auburn hair over her shoulder. Bitterness still flickered inside her whenever she thought about how Sean had dumped her for way-too-tall, I’m-a-kiss-ass-English-student-and-think-I’m-hot-shit-because-I-lived-in-Europe Aria Montgomery, but whatever. It was Sean’s loss. Now that boys knew she was available, Hanna’s BlackBerry inbox was beeping with potential dates every few minutes.
“Good,” Mona said. “Because you’re way too hot for him, Han.”
“I know,” Hanna quipped, and they touched palms lightly in another high five. Hanna sat back, feeling a warm, reassuring whoosh of well-being. It was hard to believe that things had been shaky between her and Mona a month ago. Imagine, Mona thinking that Hanna wanted to be friends with Aria, Emily, and Spencer instead of her!
Okay, so Hanna had been keeping things from Mona, although she’d confessed most of it: her occasional purges, the trouble with her dad, her two arrests, the fact that she’d stripped for Sean at Noel Kahn’s party and he’d rejected her. She’d downplayed everything, worried Mona would disown her for such horrible secrets, but Mona had taken it all in stride. She said every diva got in trouble once in a while, and Hanna decided she’d just overreacted. So what if she wasn’t with Sean anymore? So what if she hadn’t spoken to her father since Foxy? So what if she was still volunteering at Mr. Ackard’s burn clinic to atone for wrecking his car? So what if her two worst enemies, Naomi Zeigler and Riley Wolfe, knew she had a bingeing problem and had spread rumors about her around the school? She and Mona were still tight, and A had stopped stalking her.
Kids began filtering out of the coffee bar, which meant that free period was about to end. As Hanna and Mona swaggered through the exit, Hanna realized they were approaching Naomi and Riley, who had been hiding behind the giant swirling Frappuccino machine. Hanna set her jaw and tried to hold her head high.
“Baaaarf,” Naomi hissed into H
anna’s ear as she passed.
“Yaaaaak,” Riley taunted right behind her.
“Don’t listen to them, Han,” Mona said loudly. “They’re just pissed because you can fit into those Rich and Skinny jeans at Otter and they can’t.”
“It’s cool,” Hanna said breezily, sticking her nose into the air. “There’s that, and at least I don’t have inverted nipples.”
Naomi’s mouth got very small and tense. “That was because of the bra I was wearing,” she said through clenched teeth. Hanna had seen Naomi’s inverted nipples when they were changing for gym the week before. Maybe it was just from the weird bra she had on, but hey—all’s fair in love and the war to be popular.
Hanna glanced over her shoulder and shot Naomi and Riley a haughty, condescending look. She felt like a queen snubbing two grubby little wenches. And it gave Hanna great satisfaction to see that Mona was giving them the exact same look. That was what best friends were for, after all.
4 NO WONDER EMILY’S MOM IS SO STRICT
Emily Fields never had practice the day before a meet, so she came straight home after school and noticed three new items sitting on the limestone kitchen island. There were two new blue Sammy swim towels for Emily and her sister Carolyn, just in time for their big meet against Drury tomorrow…and there was also a paperback book titled It’s Not Fair: What to Do When You Lose Your Boyfriend. A Post-it note was affixed to the cover: Emily: Thought you might find this useful. I’ll be back at 6.—Mom.
Emily absentmindedly flipped through the pages. Not long after Alison’s body had been found, Emily’s mother had started surprising her with little cheer-me-ups, like a book called 1001 Things to Make You Smile, a big set of Prismacolor colored pencils, and a walrus puppet, because Emily used to be obsessed with walruses when she was younger. After Toby’s suicide, however, her mother had merely given Emily a bunch of self-help books. Mrs. Fields seemed to think Toby’s death was harder for Emily than Ali’s—probably because she thought Toby had been Emily’s boyfriend.
Emily sank into a white kitchen chair and shut her eyes. Boyfriend or not, Toby’s death did haunt her. Every night, as she was looking at herself in the mirror while brushing her teeth, she thought she saw Toby standing behind her. She couldn’t stop going over that fateful night when he’d taken her to Foxy. Emily had told Toby that she’d been in love with Alison, and Toby had admitted he was glad Ali was dead. Emily had immediately assumed Toby was Ali’s killer and had threatened to call the cops. But by the time she realized just how wrong she was, it was too late.
Emily listened to the small settling sounds of her empty house. She stood up, picked up the cordless phone on the counter and dialed a number. Maya answered in one ring.
“Carolyn’s at Topher’s,” Emily said in a low voice.
“My mom’s at a PTA meeting. We have a whole hour.”
“The creek?” Maya whispered.
“Yep.”
“Six minutes,” Maya declared. “Time me.”
It took Emily two minutes to slip out the back door, sprint across her vast, slippery lawn, and dive into the woods to the secluded little creek. Alongside the water was a smooth, flat rock, perfect for two girls to sit on. She and Maya had discovered the secret creek spot two weeks ago, and they’d been hiding away here as much as they possibly could.
In five minutes and forty-five seconds, Maya emerged through the trees. She looked adorable as usual, in her plain white T-shirt, pale pink miniskirt, and red suede Puma sneakers. Even though it was October, it was almost eighty degrees out. She had pulled her hair back from her face, showing off her flawless, caramel-colored skin.
“Hey,” Maya cried, a little out of breath. “Under six minutes?”
“Barely,” Emily teased.
They both plopped down on the rock. For a second, neither of them spoke. It was so much quieter back here in the woods than by the street. Emily tried not to think about how she had run from Toby through these very woods a few weeks ago. Instead, she concentrated on the way the water sparkled over the rocks and how the trees were just starting to turn orange at the tips. She had a superstition about the big tree she could just make out at the edge of her backyard: if its leaves turned yellow in the fall, she would have a good school year. If they turned red, she wouldn’t. But this year, the leaves were orange—did that mean so-so? Emily had all sorts of superstitions. She thought the world was fraught with signs. Nothing was random.
“I missed you,” Maya whispered in Emily’s ear. “I didn’t see you at school today.”
A shiver passed through Emily as Maya’s lips grazed her earlobe. She shifted her position on the rock, moving closer to Maya. “I know. I kept looking for you.”
“Did you survive your bio lab?” Maya asked, curling her pinkie around Emily’s.
“Uh-huh.” Emily slid her fingers up Maya’s arm.
“How was your history test?”
Maya wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
“Does this make it better?” Emily pecked Maya on the lips.
“You’ll have to try harder than that to make it better,” Maya said seductively, lowering her green-yellow catlike eyes and reaching for Emily.
They had decided to try this: sitting together, hanging out whenever they could, touching, kissing. As much as Emily tried to edit Maya from her life, she couldn’t. Maya was wonderful, nothing like Em’s last boyfriend, Ben—nothing, in fact, like any boy she’d ever gone out with. There was something so comforting about being here at the creek side by side. They weren’t just together—they were also best friends. This was how coupledom should feel.
When they pulled away, Maya slid off a sneaker and dipped her toe into the creek. “So we moved back into our house yesterday.”
Emily drew in her breath. After the workers had found Ali’s body in Maya’s new backyard, the St. Germains had moved to a hotel to escape the media. “Is it…weird?”
“It’s okay.” Maya shrugged. “Oh, but get this. There’s a stalker on the loose.”
“What?”
“Yeah, a neighbor was telling my mom about it this morning. Someone’s running around through people’s yards, peeping into windows.”
Emily’s stomach began to hurt. This, too, reminded her of Toby: back when they were in sixth grade, he was the creepy kid who peeked into everyone’s windows, especially Ali’s. “Guy? Girl?”
Maya shook her head. “I don’t know.” She blew her curly bangs up into the air. “This town, I swear to God. Weirdest place on earth.”
“You must miss California,” Emily said softly, pausing to watch a bunch of birds lift off from a nearby oak tree.
“Not at all, actually.” Maya touched Emily’s wrist.
“There are no Emilys in California.”
Emily leaned forward and kissed Maya softly on her lips. They held their lips together for five long seconds. She kissed Maya’s earlobe. Then Maya kissed her bottom lip. They pulled away and smiled, the afternoon sun making pretty patterns on their cheeks. Maya kissed Emily’s nose, then her temples, then her neck. Emily shut her eyes, and Maya kissed her eyelids. She took a deep breath. Maya ran her delicate fingers along the edge of Emily’s jaw; it felt like a million butterflies flapping their wings against her skin. As much as she’d been trying to convince herself that being with Maya was wrong, it was the only thing that felt right.
Maya pulled away. “So, I have a proposal for you.”
Emily smirked. “A proposal. Sounds serious.”
Maya pulled her hands into her sleeves. “How about we make things more open?”
“Open?” Emily repeated.
“Yeah.” Maya ran her finger up and down the length of Emily’s arm, giving her goose bumps. Emily could smell Maya’s banana gum, a smell she now found intoxicating. “Meaning we hang out inside your house. We hang out at school. We…I don’t know. I know you’re not ready to be, like, out with this, Em, but it’s hard spending all our time on this rock. What’s going to happen when it gets
cold?”
“We’ll come out here in snowsuits,” Emily quipped.
“I’m serious.”
Emily watched as a stiff wind made the tree branches knock together. The air suddenly smelled like burning leaves. She couldn’t invite Maya inside her house because her mother had already made it clear that she didn’t want Emily to be friends with Maya…for terrible, almost-definitely racist reasons. But it wasn’t like Emily was going to tell Maya that. And as for the other thing, coming out—no. She closed her eyes and thought of the picture A had texted her a while ago—the one of Emily and Maya kissing in the photo booth at Noel Kahn’s party. She winced. She wasn’t ready for people to know.
“I’m sorry I’m slow,” Emily said. “But this is what I’m comfortable with right now.”
Maya sighed. “Okay,” she said in an Eeyore-ish voice. “I’ll just have to deal.”
Emily stared into the water. Two silvery fish swam tightly together. Whenever one turned, the other turned too. They were like those needy couples who made out in the hallway and practically stopped breathing when they were separated. It made her a little sad to realize she and Maya could never be one of those couples.
“So,” Maya said, “nervous about your swim meet tomorrow?”
“Nervous?” Emily frowned.
“Everyone’s going to be there.”
Emily shrugged. She’d competed in much bigger swimming events than this—there had been camera crews at nationals last year. “I’m not worried.”
“You’re braver than I am.” Maya shoved her sneaker back onto her foot.
But Emily wasn’t so sure about that. Maya seemed brave about everything—she ignored the rules that said you had to wear the Rosewood Day uniform and showed up in her white denim jacket every day. She smoked pot out her bedroom window while her parents were at the store. She said hi to kids she didn’t know. In that way, she was just like Ali—totally fearless. Which was probably why Emily had fallen for both of them.
