Or had she dropped some hints? Ali had been obsessed with twins, for one thing—once, when Ali and Emily went shopping alone in Ardmore, Ali told everyone that they were twins, just to see how many people would believe them. And Ali used to marvel over how similar Emily and her sister Carolyn looked. “Has anyone ever thought you guys are twins?” she asked more than once. “Do people ever mistake you for each other?”
Aria noticed Emily looking at Courtney’s picture. She touched Emily’s wrist. “Be careful.”
Emily flinched. “What are you talking about?”
Aria pursed her lips. A group of girls in cheerleading uniforms marched past, practicing the arm movements for a cheer. “She might look exactly like Ali, but she’s not her.”
Heat rushed to Emily’s face. She knew what Aria was getting at. Emily’s old friends knew about her crush on Ali—many of Emily’s notes from the original A, Mona Vanderwaal, had talked about nothing else. Aria had accused Emily of letting her heart get in the way of her head before, especially when Emily clung to the idea that Ali was still alive.
“I know she’s not Ali,” she snapped. “I’m not an idiot.” She whirled into the gym locker room without saying good-bye.
The room smelled of rubber sneakers, hair spray, and floral deodorant. A bunch of girls were already changing into their T-shirts and shorts, and the air was filled with chatter about the Valentine’s Day dance that Saturday. Emily stomped to her locker, prickly with agitation. Aria had definitely hit a nerve.
Truth be told, Emily had lain awake all last night, reliving the moment Courtney had stepped onto the podium. Even though it wasn’t Ali, Emily’s heart had lifted when Courtney gave her that alluring wink. It had been thrilling to sit in the DiLaurentises’ new kitchen, too, right across from this achingly beautiful, hauntingly familiar girl. Emily had dreamed about Ali for years; how could she not feel something for her identical twin?
And what did Aria mean, be careful? There was no reason to distrust Courtney—she’d been as much a victim in this as Emily and the others were. Courtney was lucky to have narrowly escaped the fire in the woods. Billy was obviously trying to kill her, too, just like he was trying to kill Emily, Aria, and the others.
But what if the newscast was right? What if Billy hadn’t killed Ian or set that fire…or done anything else?
“Ahem.”
Emily jolted up, the white T-shirt and blue shorts she’d pulled from her gym locker slipping from her hands. A blond girl with a heart-shaped face was sitting on one of the wooden benches at the end of the aisle. “Oh!” Emily cried, clapping her hand over her mouth. It was as if Courtney had appeared just because Emily had been thinking about her.
“Hi.” Courtney was dressed in a snug-fitting Rosewood Day blazer, a white button-down, and a blue plaid skirt. Her school-issued blue socks were tight and even, stopping right below her pretty, diamond-shaped kneecaps. She stared at the gym clothes in Emily’s arms. “I didn’t know we were supposed to bring shorts and stuff.”
“Yeah.” Emily lifted her T-shirt by the collar. “You can get gym clothes at the school store.” She cocked her head. “Mr. Draznowsky didn’t tell you that?” Mr. Draznowsky was their gym teacher.
“He just gave me this locker number and combination. I guess he assumed I knew what to do.”
Emily lowered her eyes. Had Courtney ever attended a normal school? Had she ever been a member of a sports team, or played an instrument in band, or had to plot the best route to get to each class on time? Aria’s words of caution gushed through Emily’s mind again. Okay, so they didn’t know Courtney, but what was Emily supposed to do, ignore her?
“Uh, I have an extra pair of shorts and a T-shirt,” Emily offered, turning to her locker and digging to the bottom. She handed Courtney a swim T-shirt and a wrinkled pair of gym shorts. “The shirt isn’t technically for gym class, but I think they’ll let you slide for today.”
“Oh my God, thank you.” Courtney held the T-shirt at arm’s length. It had a picture of a swimming pool and starting blocks. “You rock the block,” she read aloud, then looked at Emily quizzically.
“My swim coach gave it to me for making captain this year,” Emily explained.
Courtney’s eyes widened. “Captain? Impressive.”
Emily shrugged. She had mixed feelings about being captain of the swim team, especially since she’d considered quitting not so long ago.
Courtney spread out the gym shorts, noticing the school crest silkscreened near the hem. “What’s this thing on the shield? A little penis?”
Emily burst out laughing. “That’s a shark. Our mascot.”
Courtney squinted. “A shark? Seriously?”
“I know. It looks more like a worm. Or a…penis.” Emily felt funny saying the word aloud. “Now that you mention it, this freshman guy dresses up in a big foam shark costume at swim meets. And by the end, the top of the costume always gets kind of…limp.”
A group of girls pushed their way out to the gym. Courtney leaned against the metal lockers. “This school is so weird. Penis sharks, that peppy music that’s played between classes…”
“Don’t get me started on that.” Emily groaned. “Sometimes they forget to turn it off once the period begins. And it’s, like, blaring while we’re trying to take a math test. Did you meet Ms. Reyes from the office? She wears those big oval pink-tinted glasses?”