J.J. Fitz tucked her brown-black curls behind her ears and walked into her English class. She'd grown up with two English teachers as parents and the had grilled her so much that she had aced junior AP English and moved onto senior AP English, even though she was still taking junior classes for every other subject.

She sat down in the last seat in the middle row as the teacher wrote his name on the board. J.J. pulled out and her schedule to check his name. As she looked to her right, she noticed Oliver Cavanaugh, the older brother of one her best friends, Piper, as well has the son of one her mother's friends growing up.

Andrew Carter. Andrew Carter, 12th Grade AP English, Room 214. Andrew Carter. No, no, no, no, and no. This wasn't, couldn't be, happening to her.

Mr. Carter turned to his class, sighing heavily. He immdetly transfixed his stare on a girl in the back row. "Holy crap." He said, and the girl looked at him, her eyes wide.

J.J. had finally ditched her parents when they decided to go to some 'sentimental' bar somewhere, and J.J. had found herself the bar of her hotel. Her parents had instead on a vaction in Iceland, much to her dismay. She was drinking a Shirley Temple, and waiting for one of best friends, Sara, Piper, or Ali, to text her back. Meanwhile, she had been flipping through a motorcycle magazine had become easily bored.

"You like that stuff?" asked a hazel-eyed man sitting a few stooled down.

"Nah. I just like to read, and there was nothing else here but this and the menu." I say, casting the magazine aside.

"You like to read? Or write?"

"Yeah, I kinda have to. My parents are both English teachers," I say, taking another sip.

"Are they…around here?"

"Nope. They went to some other bar that's suppodidly 'sentimental' to them."

"Did they meet there?"

"They met in a bar, but I'm not sure if it was that one."

"I'm J.J., by the way."

"Andrew. Nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand and I grip it firmly. His skin was smooth, soft and warm.

"Excuse me just a minute," she said. "I have to step out." She grabbed her purse and took a few steps before he said, "Can I come?"

Holy crap! J.J. though. "Sure," she answered. And then they'd made out in his car.

But now, it seemed, she was his student. His student. The room was silent until her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it from her bag, assuming it was her mom or one of her friends. She opened it without seeing who it was from to read:

J.J.- Ask your parents about there other relationship besides boyfriend/girlfriend. I think you'll find it quite surprising!

-A

A.

A as in the person who had stalked her mom, and Aunt Spencer, Aunt Emily and Aunt Hanna. None of them were her real aunts, just really close family friends. She had seen old news reports and read newspaper articles about A and the death of who would have been he Aunt Ali.

But now A was back, and ready to attack a whole new set of pretty little liars.