Home > Toxic (Pretty Little Liars #15)(19)

Toxic (Pretty Little Liars #15)(19)
Author: Sara Shepard

What would it be like to see Jordan again? Where would things go from there? Could she actually date someone in prison?

A loud clap of thunder sounded above. Emily stopped and peered through the skylights. The sky had turned very dark. Rain began to pelt the glass. She treaded water, wondering if she should get out. She listened for more thunder, but couldn’t hear anything over the rain.

She put her head down and decided to swim a little longer, but after a few laps, the room had darkened even more. The bright spots of sunlight had vanished. And then, suddenly, there was a snap . . . and the overhead lights dimmed and then went dark.

Emily touched the wall and looked around. The digital clock had lost power, and so had the radio. It was so dark on the pool deck that she could barely see the bleachers a few feet away.

She almost didn’t see the figure standing above her.

Then Emily jolted and gasped. It was a girl. She was wearing a dark zip-up hoodie, dark jeans, and sneakers that were getting wet from the lapping water in the gutter. She was standing right above Emily, leaning with her hands on her thighs. Just staring.

Before Emily could say a word, lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating the girl’s face. Her mouth was open, revealing a few missing teeth. Her eyes were wide and crazed. She leaned farther into the lane, her features so close. Emily smelled the faintest tinge of vanilla soap on her skin.

A scream froze in her throat. Ali.

“Oh my God,” Emily cried, paddling backward. But Ali reached out and grabbed her before she could get far, pulling Emily back to the wall with surprising strength.

“Hello, Emily,” Ali said in an eerie, craggy voice, pausing to cackle. “Did you really think I’d leave for good?” Her smile stretched wider. “I haven’t visited your friends, but I just had to see you. You’re my favorite!”

Emily tried to wriggle out of Ali’s grip, but Ali was holding her hard by the shoulders. “Please,” Emily said in barely more than a whisper. “Please let me go.”

Ali pursed her lips. “First tell me you love me.”

“What?” Emily sputtered.

“Say you still love me!” Ali demanded.

“N-no!” Emily cried, astonished. There was no way she could lie about that.

Ali’s eyes widened. A dangerous look crossed her face. “Okay, then. You asked for it.”

And then she pushed Emily under.

Water rushed into Emily’s lungs. She kicked hard, groping for the surface, but Ali wouldn’t let her up, her nails pressing into Emily’s right temple and the left side of her neck. It was a perfect plan, Emily realized. No one was in here. The room was so big no one could hear her scream. Much later, maybe even tomorrow, a janitor would find Emily in the pool, dead, and figure she’d drowned.

She struggled and kicked, clawing for Ali’s hands and using her feet to push off the wall. But Ali kept holding her down. Emily’s throat caught, and her lungs began to burn. “Please!” she screamed under the water, the word exploding out of her like a keening wail.

She could hear Ali laughing on the surface. Ali’s nails dug even deeper into Emily’s head, pressing her toward the bottom of the pool. Spots began to form in front of Emily’s eyes. She opened her mouth again, letting in more water. One more scream escaped from her mouth, her addled, oxygen-starved brain hardly registering the sound.

But suddenly she felt Ali’s grip release. The blurry figure over her receded, growing smaller and smaller above her.

Emily shot to the top, gasping for air. She gripped the sides of the wall hard and coughed up water. Her head still pounding, she pushed to the deck and gazed around. The door to the girls’ locker room swung shut. Emily ran for it, her limbs heavy, her lungs tight.

She crashed into the locker room. “Ali!” she screamed, groping past sinks and the showers and slipping on the tiled floor. A black-hooded shape rushed for the door to the hallway.

Ali. Emily barreled forward, catching her by her sleeve. Ali kicked and bucked, her hands outstretched for the doorknob. Finally, she swung around and glared at Emily, her features twisted and furious and unbearably ugly. She opened her mouth and sank her teeth into Emily’s arm.

Emily let out a yelp and released her grip. With a laugh, Ali slipped free. Emily reached to grab her again, but suddenly, all she was holding was Ali’s hooded sweatshirt, the zipper undone, both sides flapping free.

Emily lunged for the door, but Ali had slammed it behind her so forcefully that it swung inward, cracking Emily on the head. Emily staggered back, seeing stars. It took her a few seconds to regroup. Then she rushed into the hall.

There was no one there. No sound of footsteps, either. No wet footprints leading in a direction, even.

Emily stared right and left, feeling like she was going crazy. Ali had vanished into thin air.

Water dripped off her fingertips, making puddles on the ground. She ran her hands down the length of her face, suddenly realizing she was still in her bathing suit and swim cap. Then she noticed how freezing she was. She inspected the sides of her neck, wincing at the tender spots where Ali had squeezed. She took a step to the left, and then to the right, and then sank down to the ground, horribly dizzy.

Ali had escaped. Again. But she’d sent a message, all right. Loud and clear. And next time, Emily wasn’t sure if Ali would let her live.

9

SHE’S BAA-ACK. . . .

Hanna stood in the middle of an empty soundstage, studying her Naomi lines, which a production assistant had printed out and highlighted for her earlier that day. Hank, Burn It Down’s director, had dismissed the cast and crew for the day because filming during a lightning storm was dangerous, but Hanna had decided to hang back for a while to practice. She wanted to be perfect for her next big scene. Even though Hank had told her she was doing a great job, she still felt like a little bit of a fraud. She was acting opposite people who had so much experience . . . and her only claims to fame were doing a PSA and being tormented by Ali. “And that’s why we’re not friends anymore, Hanna Marin,” she said into the still, quiet room, among the idle cameras, equipment, and lights. She glared at an imaginary Hailey opposite her. In this scene, she, as Naomi, had found out about Hanna’s almost killing her cousin in a car accident. “Because you’re crazy. And you’re a liar. And there’s only so much a girl can take.”

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