Pretty Little Liars (11 page)

“What did the note say?”

Emily shook her head. “Never mind. It was nothing.” She cleared her throat. “You know, I think I might break up with my boyfriend too.”

Whoa.
Emily wouldn’t have been any more surprised if a bluebird had just flown out of her mouth.

“Really?” Maya said.

Emily blinked water out of her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Maya stretched her arms over her head, and Emily caught sight of that scar on her wrist again. She looked away. “Well, fuck a moose,” Maya said.

Emily smiled. “Huh?”

“It’s this thing I say sometimes,” Maya said. “It means…
screw it
!” She turned away and shrugged. “I guess it’s silly.”

“No, I like it,” Emily said. “Fuck a moose.” She giggled. She always felt funny swearing—as if her mom could hear her from their kitchen, ten miles away.

“You totally should break up with your boyfriend, though,” Maya said. “Know why?”

“Why?”

“That would mean we’d both be single.”

“And that means what?” Emily asked. The forest was very quiet and still.

Maya moved closer to her. “And that means…we…can…
have fun
!” She grabbed Emily by the shoulder and dunked her under the water.

“Hey!” Emily squealed. She splashed Maya back, ripping her whole arm through the water, creating a giant wave. Then she grabbed Maya by the leg and started tickling underneath her toes.

“Help!” Maya screamed. “Not my feet! I’m so ticklish!”

“I’ve found your weakness!” Emily crowed, maniacally dragging Maya over to the waterfall. Maya managed to wrench her foot away and pounced on Emily’s shoulders from behind. Maya’s hands drifted up Emily’s sides, then down to her stomach, where she tickled her. Emily squealed. She finally pushed Maya into a small cave in the rocks.

“I hope there are no bats in here!” Maya squealed. Beams of sunlight pierced through the cave’s tiny openings, making a halo around the top of Maya’s sopping wet head.

“You have to come in here,” Maya said. She held out her hand.

Emily stood next to her, feeling the cave’s smooth, cool sides. The sounds of her breathing echoed off the narrow walls. They looked at each other and grinned.

Emily bit her lip. This was such a perfect friend moment, it made her feel kind of melancholy and nostalgic.

Maya’s eyes turned down in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Emily took a deep breath. “Well…you know that girl who lived in your house? Alison?”

“Yeah.”

“She went missing. Right after seventh grade. She was never found.”

Maya shivered slightly. “I heard something about that.”

Emily hugged herself; she was getting cold, too. “We were really close.”

Maya moved closer to Emily and put her arm around her. “I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah.” Emily’s chin wobbled. “I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

A few long moments passed; Emily and Maya continued to hug. Then, Maya backed off. “I kind of lied earlier. About why I want to break up with Justin.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, curious.

“I’m…I’m not sure if I like guys,” Maya said quietly. “It’s weird. I think they’re cute, but when I get alone with them, I don’t want to be with them. I’d rather be with, like, someone more like me.” She smiled crookedly. “You know?”

Emily ran her hands over her face and hair. Maya’s gaze felt too close all of a sudden. “I…,” she started. No, she
didn’t
know.

The bushes above them moved. Emily flinched. Her mom used to hate when she came to this trail—you never knew what kind of kidnappers or murderers hid in places like this. The woods were still for a moment, but then a flock of birds scattered wildly into the sky. Emily flattened herself up against the rock. Was someone watching them? Who was that laughing? The laugh sounded familiar. Then Emily heard heavy breathing. Goose bumps rose up on her arms and she peered out of the cave.

It was only a group of boys. Suddenly, they burst into the creek, wielding sticks like swords. Emily backed away from Maya and out of the waterfall.

“Where are you going?” Maya called.

Emily looked at Maya, and then at the boys, who had abandoned the sticks and were now throwing rocks at each other. One of them was Mike Montgomery, her old friend Aria’s little brother. He’d grown up quite a bit since she last saw him. And wait—Mike went to Rosewood. Would he recognize her? Emily climbed out of the water and started scurrying up the hill.

She turned back to Maya. “I have to get back to school before Carolyn’s done with swimming.” She pulled on her skirt. “Do you want me to throw down your clothes?”

“Whatev.” At that, she stepped out of the waterfall and waded through the water, her sheer underwear clinging to her butt. Maya climbed up the slope slowly, not once covering up her stomach or boobs with her hands. The freshmen boys stopped what they were doing and stared.

And even though Emily didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but stare too.

11

AT LEAST SWEET POTATOES HAVE LOTS OF VITAMIN A

“Her. Definitely her,” Hanna whispered, pointing.

“Nah. They’re too small!” Mona whispered back.

“But look at the way they puff up at the top! Totally fake,” Hanna countered.

“I think that woman over there has had her butt done.”

“Gross.” Hanna wrinkled her nose and ran her hands over the sides of her own toned, perfectly round butt to make sure it was still perfectly perfect. It was late afternoon on Wednesday, just two days until Noel Kahn’s annual field party, and she and Mona were lounging on the outside terrace at Yam, the organic café at Mona’s parents’ country club. Below them, a bunch of Rosewood boys played a quick round of golf before dinner, but Hanna and Mona were playing another type of game: Spot the Fake Boobs. Or fake anything else, as there was lots of fake stuff around here.

“Yeah, it looks like her surgeon messed up,” Mona murmured. “I think my mom plays tennis with her. I’ll ask.”

Hanna looked again at the pixieish, thirtysomething woman by the bar whose butt did look suspiciously extra-luscious for the rest of her toothpick-skinny figure. “I’d die before I got plastic surgery.”

Mona played with the charm on her Tiffany bracelet—the one she, evidently, didn’t have to give back. “Do you think Aria Montgomery had hers done?”

Hanna looked up, startled. “Why?”

“She’s really thin, and they’re like, too perfect,” Mona said. “She went to Finland or wherever, right? I hear in Europe they can do your boobs for really cheap.”

“I don’t think they’re fake,” Hanna murmured.

“How do
you
know?”

Hanna chewed on her straw. Aria’s boobs had always been there—she and Alison had been the only two of the friends who needed a bra in seventh grade. Ali always flaunted hers, but the only time Aria seemed to notice she even
had
boobs was when she knit everyone bras as Christmas gifts and had to make herself a larger size. “She just doesn’t seem the type,” Hanna answered. Talking to Mona about her old friends was awkward territory. Hanna still felt bad about how she and Ali and the others used to tease Mona back in seventh grade, but it always seemed too weird to bring up now.

Mona stared at her. “Are you all right? You look different today.”

Hanna flinched. “I do? How?”

Mona gave her a tiny smirk. “Whoa! Somebody’s jumpy!”

“I’m not jumpy,” Hanna said quickly. But she was: Ever since the police station and that e-mail she had gotten last night, she’d been freaking. This morning, her eyes even seemed more dull brown than green, and her arms looked disturbingly puffy. She had this horrible sense that she really was going to spontaneously morph back into her seventh-grade self.

A blond, giraffelike waitress interrupted them. “Have you decided?”

Mona looked at the menu. “I’ll have the Asian chicken salad, no dressing.”

Hanna cleared her throat. “I want a garden salad with sprouts, no dressing, and an extra-large order of sweet potato fries. In a carry-out box, please.”

As the waitress took their menus, Mona pushed her sunglasses down her nose. “Sweet potato fries?”

“For my mom,” Hanna answered quickly. “She lives on them.”

Down on the golf course, a group of older guys teed up, along with one young good-looking guy in fatigue shorts. He looked a little out of place with his messy brown hair, cargos, and…was that a…
Rosewood Police
polo? Oh no. It was.

Wilden scanned the terrace and coolly nodded when he saw Hanna. She ducked.

“Who is
that
?” Mona purred.

“Um…,” Hanna mumbled, half under the table. Darren Wilden was a
golfer
? Come
on.
Back in high school, he was the type to flick lit matches at the guys on Rosewood’s golf team. Was the whole world out to get her?

Mona squinted. “Wait. Didn’t he go to our school?” She grinned. “Oh my God. It’s the girls’ diving team guy. Hanna, you little bitch! How does he know
you
?”

“He’s…” Hanna paused. She ran her hand along the waistband of her jeans. “I met him on the Marwyn trail a couple of days ago when I was running. We stopped at the water fountain at the same time.”

“Nice,” Mona said. “Does he work around here?”

Hanna paused again. She really wanted to avoid this. “Um…I think he said he was a cop,” she said nonchalantly.

“You’re kidding.” Mona took out her Shu Uemura lip moisturizer from her blue leather hobo bag and lightly dabbed her bottom lip. “That guy’s hot enough to be in a policeman’s calendar. I could just see it: Mr. April. Let’s ask if we can see his nightstick!”

“Shhh,” Hanna hissed.

Their salads came. Hanna pushed the Styrofoam container of sweet potato fries to the side and took a bite of an undressed grape tomato.

Mona leaned closer. “I bet you could hook up with him.”

“Who?”

“Mr. April! Who else?”

Hanna snorted. “Right.”

“Totally. You should bring him to the Kahn party. I heard some cops came to the party last year. That’s how they never get busted.”

Hanna sat back. The Kahn party was a legendary Rosewood tradition. The Kahns lived on twenty-some acres of land, and the Kahn boys—Noel was the youngest—held a back-to-school party every year. The kids raided their parents’ extremely well-stocked liquor supply in the basement, and there was
always
a scandal. Last year, Noel shot his best friend James in the bare ass with his BB gun because James had tried to make out with Noel’s then-girlfriend, Alyssa Pennypacker. They were both so drunk they laughed the whole way to the ER and couldn’t remember how or why it happened. The year before that, a bunch of stoners smoked too much and tried to get Mr. Kahn’s Appaloosas to take hits from a bong.

“Nah.” Hanna bit into another tomato. “I think I’m going with Sean.”

Mona scrunched up her face. “Why waste a perfectly good party night on Sean? He took a virginity pledge! He probably won’t even go.”

“Just because you sign a virginity pledge doesn’t mean you stop partying, too.” Hanna took a big bite of her salad, crunching the dry, unappetizing vegetables in her mouth.

“Well, if you’re not gonna ask Mr. April to Noel’s, I will.” Mona stood up.

Hanna grabbed her arm. “No!”

“Why not? C’mon. It’d be fun.”

Hanna dug her fingernails into Mona’s arm. “I said no.”

Mona sat back down and stuck out her lip. “Why not?”

Hanna’s heart galloped. “All right. You can’t tell
anyone
, though.” She took a deep breath. “I met him at the police station, not the trail. I was called in for questioning for the Tiffany’s thing. But it’s not a big deal. I’m not busted.”

“Oh my
God
!” Mona yelled. Wilden looked up at them again.

“Shhh!” Hanna hissed.

“Are you all right? What happened? Tell me everything,” Mona whispered back.

“There isn’t much to tell.” Hanna threw her napkin over her plate. “They brought me to the station, my mom came with me, and we sat for a while. They let me off with a warning. Whatever. The whole thing took like twenty minutes.”

“Yikes.” Mona gave Hanna an indeterminate look; Hanna wondered for a second if it was a look of pity.

“It wasn’t, like, dramatic or anything,” Hanna said defensively, her throat dry. “Not much happened. Most of the cops were on the phone. I text-messaged the whole time.” She paused, considering whether she should tell Mona about that “not it” text message she’d received from A, whoever A was. But why waste her breath? It couldn’t have actually meant anything, right?

Mona took a sip of her Perrier. “I thought you’d never get caught.”

Hanna swallowed hard. “Yeah, well…”

“Did your mom totally kill you?”

Hanna looked away. On the drive home, her mom had asked Hanna if she’d meant to steal the bracelet and earrings. When Hanna said no, Ms. Marin answered, “Good. It’s settled then.” Then she flipped open her cell to make a call.

Hanna shrugged and stood up. “I just remembered—I gotta go walk Dot.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mona asked. “Your face looks kind of splotchy.”

“No biggie.” She smacked her lips glamorously at Mona and turned for the door.

Hanna sauntered coolly out of the restaurant, but once she got to the parking lot, she broke into a run. She climbed inside her Toyota Prius—a car her mom had bought for herself last year but had recently handed off to Hanna because she’d grown tired of it—and checked her face in the rearview mirror. There were hideous bright red patches on her cheeks and forehead.

After her transformation, Hanna had been neurotically careful about not only looking cool and perfect at all times, but
being
cool and perfect, too. Terrified that the tiniest mistake would send her spiraling back to dorkdom, she labored over every last detail, from little things like the perfect IM screen name and the right mix for her car’s built-in iPod, to bigger stuff like the right combo of people to invite over before someone’s party and choosing the perfect
it
boy to date—who, luckily, was the same boy she’d loved since seventh grade. Had getting caught for shoplifting just tarnished the perfect, controlled, über-cool Hanna everyone had come to know? She hadn’t been able to read that look on Mona’s face when she said “yikes.” Had the look meant,
Yikes, but no big deal?
Or,
Yikes, what a loser?