A chilly wind kicked up, blowing around cigarette butts and spare bits of trash. “The…hospital?”
“Don’t you remember?” Courtney smiled hopefully. “I visited you when you were in a coma.”
A hazy memory of a blond figure wavered and wobbled in Hanna’s mind. A girl had leaned over her bed murmuring I’m okay, I’m okay. But Hanna had always thought that girl was…
Hanna blinked in disbelief. “Ali?”
The girl next to her nodded. She extended her arms out ta-daa! style.
“What?” Hanna’s heart thundered. “How?”
Ali told her story. Hanna gasped at the end of almost every sentence, barely believing her ears. She gazed at the pedestrians walking down Fifth Avenue. A woman pushed a Silver Cross baby carriage, yakking on a Motorola Droid. A g*y couple in matching John Varvatos leather jackets walked their French bulldog. It was amazing that their mundane lives could proceed apace amidst such a life-altering revelation.
She took Hanna’s hands. “Hanna, I never thought you were a loser. And seriously, look at you now.” She leaned back and gestured to Hanna’s hair and outfit. “You’re stunning.”
The surface of Hanna’s skin throbbed. In sixth grade, she’d felt like the Michelin Tire Man next to Ali. Her stomach bulged and her braces made her cheeks puffy. Ali had always looked so flawless—whether she was in her field hockey skirt or the white dress she’d worn to seventh-grade graduation. For years Hanna had longed to show Ali her makeover, to prove that she was fabulous, too. “Thanks,” she whispered, feeling thoroughly disembodied, as if caught in a dream.
“You and I are the ones who deserve to be popular, Hanna.” Ali’s eyes hardened for such a brief moment that Hanna wondered if she’d imagined it. “Not your stepsister. And especially not Naomi or Riley. So you know what we need to do?”
“W-what?” Hanna stuttered.
A coy smile slunk onto Ali’s face. All of a sudden, she was pure Ali again—irresistible, intoxicating, and utterly in control of everything. She stepped off the stairs and extended her arm for a cab. One pulled up immediately. Ali climbed in and motioned for Hanna to follow.
“Penn Station,” Ali said to the driver, slamming the door. Then she turned back to Hanna. “We ditch the bitches,” she said. “And then we take them down.”
15
WHEN YOU WISH UPON A WELL
Late Thursday night, Aria stood in her bedroom at Byron’s new house, examining the fringed red dress she’d bought for the Valentine’s Day dance. Would Noel think it was artistic and stylish…or kooky?
Suddenly, a flicker outside the big bedroom window caught her eye. A figure jogged past the house, her lithe body illuminated by the amber-hued streetlight. Aria immediately recognized the pink Windbreaker, black running tights, and dirty blond hair tucked into a silver beanie. Spencer’s sister, Melissa, religiously ran the neighborhood roads every afternoon.
But never at night. Aria’s heart started to pound as she remembered Melissa lurking outside Courtney’s house yesterday. An eerie feeling crept into her bones. Aria pulled on a sweatshirt, rammed her feet into her Uggs, and went outside.
The night was frigid and still. A fat, bloated moon hung in the sky. The houses loomed huge and imposing, and most people’s porch lights were already off for the night. The air still had a faint odor of charred earth to it from the fire, and Aria could make out jagged tree stumps in the woods. She spied the reflective tape on Melissa’s sneakers at the end of the street and started to run, following her at a safe distance.
Melissa passed the big Dutch Colonial whose owners rotated colorful porch flags with the seasons, the massive stone farmhouse with the man-made pond in the backyard, and then the big Victorian with the memorial at the curb. We’ll miss you, Ian, someone had spelled out with marigolds. Now that everyone presumed that Ian was innocent—and dead—the town had set up a series of wreaths, lacrosse sticks, and old Rosewood Day soccer jerseys on the Thomases’ muddy lawn in his memory.
Melissa circled the cul-de-sac and disappeared down a path toward the woods. Aria stealthily followed, growing nervous. Technically, people weren’t allowed back here—the cops were still hunting for Ian’s body.
Taking a deep breath, Aria pushed through the brambles to follow her. Twigs snapped and crackled. The air was thick with putrid smoke. Melissa’s bobbing sneakers disappeared up a steep rise. Aria’s lungs filled and emptied, rushing to keep up. She was so far into the woods now that she could barely see the lights from the houses. The only thing she could make out was Spencer’s family’s dilapidated barn, way off through the trees.
A pair of eyes blinked at her from a high tree branch. Something scuttled on the forest floor. Aria gasped but kept going. She staggered up the hill on all fours, panting hard. But when she reached the top, she didn’t see Melissa anywhere. It was as if she had evaporated into thin air.
“Aria?”
Aria screamed and whirled around. A face swam into view. First Aria saw her heart-shaped jaw, then her glistening blue eyes, and then her bloodred Cheshire cat smile.
“C-Courtney?” she stammered.
“I didn’t realize anyone else knew about this place,” Courtney said, tucking a stray lock of blond hair under her maroon wool hat.
Aria ran her hands over her bumpy ponytail. Her heart thrummed in her ears. “D-did you see Spencer’s sister? Melissa? I followed her here.”
Courtney shook her head, looking confused. “It’s just me and the moon.”