Killer pll-6

by Sara Shepard

  But there was no way Emily could set foot in the Colberts’ house, even if his parents were going to be at the Radley opening party run-through all evening. Emily wasn’t the type of girl who disobeyed adults’ orders, even if they seemed harsh and mean and unreasonable. Only, what was she supposed to do, never visit Isaac at his house again? Come up with crazy excuses every time he wanted her to stop in?

  Last night, when Emily and Carolyn were settling into their beds in their shared bedroom, Carolyn asked her again why she’d run out of Applebee’s crying. Emily broke down and told her what Mrs. Colbert had said. Carolyn sat up in bed, gaping in horror. “Why would she say you disrespected her home?” she asked. “Is it because of the Maya stuff?”

  Emily shook her head. “I doubt it.” She felt ashamed. If her parents caught Emily and Isaac doing it in Emily’s bedroom, they’d probably serve him with a restraining order. “Maybe I deserved it,” she mumbled.

  They both fell silent, listening to the cornstalks in the field outside their house twisting in the wind. “I don’t know what I’d do if Topher’s mom hated me,” Carolyn said into the darkness. “I’m not sure we could be together.”

  “I know,” Emily answered, a big lump in her throat.

  “But you have to talk to Isaac about it,” Carolyn told her. “You have to be honest.”

  “Emily?”

  She blinked. Isaac had buckled his seat belt and was ready to go. Her whole body throbbed. Isaac’s hair was pushed off his face, and he had a dark green scarf wrapped many times around his neck. When he smiled, his white teeth gleamed. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she stiffened, half-expecting a siren to go off and Mrs. Colbert to pop out from behind a bush, ready to yank him away.

  She turned her head, pretending to fumble with her car keys. Isaac pulled back. Even in the dark car, Emily could see the little parenthesis that formed at the corner of Isaac’s right eye whenever he was worried. “You okay?” he asked.

  Emily faced forward. “Yep.” She shifted the Volvo into drive and pulled away from the curb.

  “You excited for the Radley party tomorrow?” Isaac asked. “I rented a tux this time. Better than my dad’s old suit, right?” He chuckled.

  Emily pulled in her bottom lip, astonished. He still assumed they could go to the Radley party? “Sure,” she said.

  “My dad’s totally stressed about the catering, and he keeps ribbing me about how I’m not helping yet again because I’ve got a date.” Isaac grinned and poked her in the ribs.

  Emily squeezed the steering wheel, her eyes welling. She couldn’t take this anymore. “So…your parents haven’t said anything about us not going together?” she blurted out.

  Isaac looked at her curiously. “Well, I’ve barely seen them the past few days, they’ve been so busy. But why would they have a problem with us going together? They were there when I asked you.”

  A car passed going the other direction, its xenon headlights blinding. She said nothing.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Isaac asked again.

  Emily swallowed hard. She tasted peanut butter in her mouth, the sensation she always got when she was about to have a fight-or-flight reaction. There was a Wawa off to the right, and before she knew what she was doing, she was jerkily pulling into the parking lot and driving around to the back near a green Dumpster. After she shoved the car into park, she rested her head on the steering wheel and let out a pent-up sob.

  “Emily?” Isaac said, concerned. “What is it?”

  Tears blurred her vision. As much as she didn’t want to say this, she knew she had to. She turned the blue ring he’d given her the other day around her finger. “It’s…your mom.”

  Isaac traced figure eights on her back. “What about my mom?”

  Emily ran her palms along the legs of her jeans, heaving a sigh. Just be honest, Carolyn had said. She could be honest with Isaac, couldn’t she?

  “She knows we…you know. Slept together,” Emily moaned. “And she said all these weird things to me at dinner. Like, she kept insinuating that I was…fast. Or loose. And then when I was doing the dishes later that night, I found a photo of you and me from the Rosewood Day benefit last week. Your mom had cut my head out of the picture. Only my head.” She swallowed hard, not brave enough to look up. “Still, I thought maybe I was overreacting. I didn’t want to say anything. But then, last night, I was at Applebee’s with Carolyn. And…your mom was there. She came up to me and said I could never come over to your house ever again.” Her voice broke on the word again.

  The car was silent. Emily squeezed her eyes shut. She felt awful and relieved at the same time. It was a weight off her shoulders to say it out loud.

  Finally, she looked at Isaac. His nose wrinkled, as if he had smelled something rancid from the Dumpster. A new worry filled her. What if this ruined Isaac’s relationship with his mom for good?

  He blew air out his cheeks. “Emily, come on.”

  Emily blinked. “Sorry?”

  Isaac shifted in his seat, facing her. His expression looked hurt and disappointed. “My mom wouldn’t cut your head out of a picture. That sounds like something a kid would do. And she would never confront you at Applebee’s and say those things. Maybe you misunderstood.”

  Emily’s blood began to pulse. “I didn’t misunderstand.”

  Isaac shook his head. “My mom loves you. She told me so. She’s happy we’re together. She never said anything about banning you from the house. Don’t you think she’d tell me that?”

  Emily barked out a laugh. “Maybe she didn’t want to tell you because she wanted me to. She wanted me to be the bad guy. Which is exactly what’s happening.”

  Isaac was quiet for a long time, staring at his hands. The tips of his fingers were callused from years of playing guitar. “My girlfriend last year did this exact same thing,” he said slowly. “She said my family was telling her to stay away from me.”

  “Maybe your mom was doing the same thing to her!” Emily cried.

  Isaac shook his head. “She told me later that she made it all up. She did it to get attention.” He gazed at her evenly, as if waiting for her to get his drift.

  Emily’s skin went from steaming hot to ice cold. “What, like seeing Ian’s dead body in the woods was a way to get attention?” she squeaked.

  Isaac raised his hands, helpless. “I’m not saying that. It’s just…I wanted to go out with someone who wasn’t into drama. I thought you did too. Whoever I go out with has to like my family, not battle against them.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing!” Emily pleaded.

  Isaac shoved open the passenger door and stepped out. Icy air swirled in, harsh against her bare skin. “What are you doing?” Emily demanded.

  He leaned over the open door, his mouth small and solemn. “I should go home.”

  “No!” Emily cried. She lurched out her own door and followed him across the parking lot. “Come on!”

  Isaac was walking toward the little wooded path that led from the Wawa lot to the street. He glanced over his shoulder. “This is my mom you’re talking about. Think about what you’re saying. Think really hard.”

  “I have thought about it!” Emily shouted. But Isaac kept going, not answering. She came to a stop in front of the store, going limp. Above her, the neon Wawa sign buzzed fiercely. There was a line of kids at the counter buying coffees and sodas and candy. She waited for Isaac to turn back, but he didn’t. Finally, she walked back to her car and got in. The inside of the Volvo smelled like the Colberts’ detergent. The passenger seat was still warm from Isaac’s butt. For at least ten minutes, she stared numbly at the Dumpster, not knowing what to make of what had happened.

  A little chime went off inside her backpack. Emily swiveled around, reaching for her phone. Maybe it was Isaac, writing to apologize. And maybe she should apologize too. He and his mom were close, and she certainly didn’t want to hate his family. Maybe she should’ve found another way to break the news instead of blindsiding him
with it.

  Emily opened the new text, swallowing a sniffle. It wasn’t from Isaac.

  Too distracted to decipher my clues? Go to your first love’s old house and maybe it’ll all make sense.—A

  Emily glowered at the screen. She’d had it with these vague clues. What did A want?

  She slowly pulled out of the Wawa parking lot, braking to let a Jeep full of high school boys cut in front of her. Go to your first love’s old house. A obviously meant Ali. She’d take the bait; Ali’s old neighborhood was only a few blocks away. What else did she have to do right now? It wasn’t like she could bang on Isaac’s door, begging for him to come back.

  She turned onto a quiet road with acres of rolling farmland, tears still stinging her eyes. The stop sign to Ali’s street came up fast. There was a WATCH CHILDREN sign at the entrance to the neighborhood. Years ago on a warm, sticky summer night, Ali and Emily had decorated the sign with smiley-face stickers they’d bought at a party store. They were all gone now.

  Ali’s old house loomed at the end of the street, the Ali shrine a dark, shadowy lump at the curb. Maya’s family lived in the house now. A few of the lights were on, including the one in Ali’s old bedroom—Maya’s new bedroom. As Emily stared up at it, Maya appeared, almost as though she’d known Emily was going to be there. Emily gasped, shrank away from the window, gripped the steering wheel, and peeled around the cul-de-sac. Once she was in front of Spencer’s driveway, she pulled over, too overcome to go on.

  Then she saw a flicker of something to her right. Someone in a white T-shirt was standing in the front window of the Cavanaughs’ house.

  Emily turned off the headlights. Whoever was in the window was tall and somewhat broad, probably a guy. His face was obscured by a large, square-shaped floor lamp. Suddenly, Jenna appeared next to him. Emily sucked in her breath. Jenna’s dark hair cascaded down her shoulders. She wore a black T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. Her dog sat next to her, scratching his neck with his hind leg.

  Jenna turned and spoke to the guy. She spoke for a long time, and then he said something back. Jenna nodded, listening. The guy waved his arms, as if Jenna could see his gestures. His face was still hidden. Jenna’s posture got defensive. The guy spoke again, and Jenna lowered her head, as if ashamed. She brushed a few strands of hair away from her big Gucci sunglasses. She said something else, her face contorted with an expression Emily couldn’t rightly determine. Sorrow? Worry? Fear? Then Jenna walked away, her dog following.

  The guy rubbed his hands through his hair, obviously flustered. Then the living room lamp snapped off. Emily leaned forward, squinting hard, but she couldn’t see anything. She looked around at Jenna’s yard. There were still wood blocks fastened to the tree trunk, makeshift steps to get into Toby’s old tree house. Mr. Cavanaugh had taken the tree house down shortly after the firework blinded Jenna. It was amazing that after all this time, the Cavanaughs still blamed Toby for blinding his sister. In truth, it had been Ali who had done it. And it had been Jenna who had wanted to set up the prank to get rid of Toby for good.

  The Cavanaughs’ front door opened, and Emily ducked again. The guy from the living room stomped down the front steps to the dark front path. When the motion-sensor light above the garage doors snapped on, he froze, startled. Emily saw him head-on, flooded with light. He wore running sneakers and a heavy down parka. Both hands were curled into tight, angry fists. When Emily’s eyes got to his face, her stomach dropped to the bottom of her boots. He was glaring right at her. She instantly realized who it was. “Oh my God,” she whispered. That shaggy blond hair, those bow-shaped lips, those stark blue eyes, still locked with hers.

  It was Jason DiLaurentis.

  Emily shifted into drive and gunned down the street. Only at the corner did she turn her lights on again. And then she heard her cell phone beep. She rifled through her purse, grabbed it, and looked at the screen. One new text message.

  What do you think HE’S so angry about?

  —A

  22 NOTHING LIKE AN ULTIMATUM TO KICK OFF THE WEEKEND

  There it was. The big Victorian house at the corner of the cul-de-sac, the one with the rose trellises along the fence and the wraparound teak deck in the back. Yellow Do Not Cross police tape was supposed to be around the half-dug hole in the backyard…only there was no tape anywhere. As a matter of fact, there wasn’t a hole anywhere. The yard was a wide, flat expanse of freshly mown grass, untouched by backhoes or bulldozers.

  Hanna looked down. She was on her old mountain bike, the one she hadn’t touched since she got a driver’s license. And her hands looked swollen. Her jeans strained across her butt. Her thighs bulged. A strand of poop-brown hair fell over her eyes. She ran her tongue over her teeth and felt rough, metal braces. When she gazed into Ali’s backyard, she saw Spencer crouched behind the raspberry bushes that bordered Ali’s house and hers. Spencer’s hair was shorter and a little lighter, the way it looked in sixth grade. There was skinny, baby-faced Emily behind the tomato vines, her eyes darting nervously back and forth. Aria, with big pink streaks in her hair and wearing a freaky German tunic, ducked next to a big oak.

  Hanna shuddered. She knew why they were here—they wanted to steal Ali’s flag. This was the Saturday after Time Capsule had begun.

  The four girls marched to one another, annoyed. Then they heard a thud, and the back door opened. Hanna and the others crouched behind the trees while Jason stormed across the yard. The patio door slammed again. Ali stood on the porch, her hands on her hips, her blond hair spilling down her shoulders, her lips pink and shiny. “You can come out,” she called.

  Sighing, Ali marched across the yard, her wedge heels sinking into the wet grass. When she approached Hanna and the others, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a shiny piece of blue cloth. It looked exactly like the piece of the Time Capsule flag Hanna had found at Steam a few days ago.

  But hadn’t Ali lost her flag? Hanna looked at the others, confused, but her old friends didn’t seem to notice that anything was amiss.

  “So this is how I’ve decorated it,” Ali explained, pointing at the different drawings on the flag. “Here’s the Chanel logo. And this is the manga frog, and here’s the field hockey girl. And don’t you love this Louis Vuitton pattern?”

  “The flag looks like a purse,” Spencer oohed.

  Hanna regarded them uneasily. Something felt scrambled. This wasn’t happening like it was supposed to. And then, Ali snapped her fingers, and Hanna’s old friends froze. Aria’s hand hung motionless, almost touching Ali’s flag. A few strands of Emily’s hair were suspended in air, caught by a breeze. Spencer had an odd expression on her face, something between a fake smile and a grimace.

  Hanna wiggled her fingers. She was the only one not frozen. She stared at Ali, her heart pounding hard.

  Ali smiled sweetly. “You’re looking much better, Hanna. Completely recovered, huh?”

  Hanna gazed down at her too-tight jeans and ran her hands through her limp hair. Recovered wasn’t the word she’d have chosen. Her recovery from loser to diva wouldn’t happen for another few years.

  Ali shook her head, noting Hanna’s confusion. “From the accident, silly. Don’t you remember me from the hospital?”

  “H-hospital?”

  Ali brought her face close to Hanna’s. “They say people should always talk to coma patients. They can hear. Did you hear me?”

  Hanna felt dizzy. Suddenly, she was back in her hospital room at Rosewood Memorial, where the EMTs had taken her after her car accident. There was a round, bright fluorescent light above her head. She could hear the hiss of the various machines that monitored her vital signs and fed her intravenously. In the hazy space between coma and consciousness, Hanna thought she saw someone looming over her bed. Someone who looked startlingly like Ali. “It’s okay,” the girl lilted, her voice exactly the same as Ali’s. “I’m okay.”

  Hanna glowered at Ali. “That was a dream.”

  Ali raised a flirtatious eyebrow as if to say,
was it? Hanna glanced at her old friends. They were still immobile. She wished they’d unfreeze—she felt way too alone with Ali, as if they were the only two people left in the whole world.

  Ali waved her Time Capsule flag in Hanna’s face. “See this? You need to find it, Hanna.”

  Hanna shook her head. “Ali, your piece is lost forever. Remember?”

  “Uh-uh,” Ali protested. “It’s still here. And if you find it, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Hanna widened her eyes. “All about…what?”

  Ali put a finger to her lips. “The two of them.” She cackled eerily.

  “Two of them…what?”

  “They know everything.”

  Hanna blinked. “Huh? Who?”

  Ali rolled her eyes. “Hanna, you are so slow.” She stared right at her. “Sometimes, I don’t notice I’m singing. Remember that?”

  “What do you mean?” Hanna asked, desperate. “Singing…what?”

  “Come on, Hanna.” Ali looked bored. She tipped her head to the sky, thinking for a moment. “Okay, how about…go fish?”

  “Go…fish?” Hanna repeated. “The card game?”

  Ali grunted, frustrated. “No. Go fish.” She waved her arms, trying to make Hanna get it. “Go fish!”

  “What are you talking about?” Hanna cried desperately.

  “GO FISH!” Ali screamed. “Go fish! Go fish!” She repeated it over and over, like it was the only thing she could say. When she grazed Hanna’s cheek with her fingers, Hanna’s skin felt sticky and wet. Hanna touched her face, alarmed. When she pulled her hands away, they were covered in blood.

  Hanna shot up, her eyes popping open. She was in her bedroom. Pale morning light streamed through the windows. It was Saturday morning—but a Saturday morning in eleventh grade, not sixth. Dot was standing on Hanna’s pillow, licking Hanna’s face. She touched her cheek. There wasn’t blood there, just doggie drool.