Chapter 4
Hanna gathers the last of her things together, hands shaking as she does.
All day it's been a game of will-they-won't-they guess, will-she-won't-she tell? and it's every cliché ever but she feels like the pocket holding the ticket and letter from Spencer is burning up. She's deliberately picked a bigger tote today, the better to hold makeup and an iPad and –
She derails the train of thought. An iPad could be a tracking device, they can't afford for her to board a train with a potential tracking item in her bag. Instead, after lunch she slips it into her locker with the rest of her books.
Aria and Emily have been subdued all day. Spencer has been gone almost a week and none of them know where she is – well, Hanna thinks she might but she couldn't say with any degree of certainty. She's been trying to distract herself with her wardrobe, tries not to imagine her mother's reaction to finding her bedroom stripped of clothes and a house for one. Tries not to imagine how Caleb might handle it.
Lunch is silent, the only sounds are drink bottles being capped and food containers opened or closed. Emily looks at her, that sympathetic gaze that could get anyone to spill their problems, and to circumvent it Hanna swills her coffee, burns the roof of her mouth for her effort and sighs.
"I'm fine," she promises, but she isn't completely because now she feels like the weakest link and maybe this is why Spencer is reaching out to her first. Maybe this is all part of some clever plan Spencer has devised to get them all out of the line of fire, and it'd be just like her to lie low and plan her next five moves.
"I'm fine," she repeats, "why shouldn't I be?"
Almost too late she realizes she's about to begin rambling, the kind that could and does spill a person's secrets, so she hops up from the table, makes an excuse about a lip gloss left in her locker.
(she can't lie like Aria can, so well that anyone would believe her. can't lie like Emily can, all naïve eyes and bright honesty because why wouldn't you trust such an open face to tell you the truth?
all her lies are the ones wrapped in glitter and come with the occasional one-liner, so she can't take the risks, has to get out before she becomes a liability)
So she counts the hours, comes home and swaps around the clothes she has packed because she can only take one other suitcase. Makeup is the last of the luxuries she is allowing herself, and anyway it might come in useful if she decides she needs a sudden disguise.
Her mother is on a date with Ted, don't wait up scrawled on an old flyer tacked to the fridge. It's just a waiting game now.
The daylight is still too bright, still feels like it could scorch your eyes and she would feel completely conspicuous of leaving the house with a suitcase. She paces, up and down the stairs. Braids her hair, then unravels it and straightens it until it lies flat, brushes it until she's sure the ends are splitting. Swaps clothes again, changes her attire to something that might have a chance of being less flashy.
(black clothes are too obvious, because they look like the person wearing them is up to no good, and anyway she got rid of all her hoodies years ago)
She settles for workout clothes and cobbles together a cover story of clothing donations, tries to figure out on a paper map how long the drive to the Philadelphia train station will take. Cleans the kitchen, throws out old food that's barely recognizable.
Wonders if this is how Spencer felt before she fled.
Eventually it's dark, the sky purpling and then blackening before her eyes.
The car engine sounds too loud as she starts it, the car itself feels like it's going way too fast as she eases her foot onto the accelerator. This was how she first felt when she learnt to drive, like at any moment her foot might slam onto the accelerator and send her crashing – wild, out of control.
Music thrums through her ears, almost in time with her heartbeat and it freaks her out, reminds her too much of that one creepy story Mona told her, so she snaps off the sound. Problem is, now the silence makes her think every shadow is after her, every noise is someone chasing her.
This time she does floor the accelerator, grits her teeth against the images of her mother coming home to an empty house, of Caleb hacking every computer he can to find her, of Emily and Aria as they realize another one of their quartet has vanished. She finds an old CD in the stereo, jabs it in and listens to the screaming vocals. It's nothing she'd ever listen to, normally, but right now when she doesn't want a beat that reminds her of her heart, doesn't want to be able to think clearly, it's perfect.
The train station is there, welcoming and possibly the best sight she's ever seen. She winds a scarf through her hair, tying it back to make it even less distinctive, ditches the car keys and pulls out the ticket like it's a talisman. The atmosphere is quiet and a little creepy in the middle of the night, with few people around. Not many people want to travel at night, she guesses, only the ones who have urgent business or are going on the run.
Then again, this is both.
She drums two fingernails on the hard seating, not caring if the nails weaken or break. This isn't the time or place for vanity, and she almost wants to weep with relief when her train is called.
Don't look around, she reminds herself. It's hard to break the habit that by now is instinct, honed from months of being watched, but she forces herself to keep her head down and pretend that she's just squinting against the bright lights of the station.
She wishes Spencer had picked a day train for her, then she'd at least have an excuse to wear sunglasses.
It doesn't matter though, she picks a seat in the middle of the train
(Spencer's voice rings in her ears, matter-of-fact about how you should always sit in the middle of the train if you can because then you're better protected if the train is in an accident somehow, and the memory is reassuring)
unravels the scarf from her hair and leans her head against the window. There's no chance of sleep right now, not tonight as she thinks of the big empty house and the locker at school and coffees clustered around a small table. Tonight she is a traveller, an anonymous girl with a suitcase and she could be anyone.
Unless A has managed to hijack public transport, she's pretty sure she's secure.
The journey is a blur of nightlights and night cityscapes and skies that are either starry or overcast depending on where she is.
(doesn't matter; there are enough stars on the ground)
Rosewood and Philadelphia vanish behind her, then they leave the state altogether and she relaxes entirely.
By daybreak she is entranced, all the passing sceneries have melted into one giant scene and she doesn't know what's what anymore. Doesn't know what's real, doesn't know where she is and her ears have learned to tune out the announcements made over the intercom because otherwise it's too loud, she feels she might shatter if she listens to them properly. A grouchy train conductor taps her shoulder and she hands over her ticket, tries not to squirm while he takes his time examining it.
"Three more stops," he tells her gruffly and she mutters a thank-you.
The train halts and she stumbles into the bright light, finds the directions Spencer wrote out for her. True to Spencer, the notes span a page and she's grateful for the effort Spencer put in: it means that they might be in the same area for a while. Long enough to get settled, maybe; long enough to be able to get some money together somehow and work on bringing the others away from Rosewood.
The library is swarming with students, people taking advantage of the good weather to sit outside and read or work. It's the perfect place for Spencer to hide, to blend in, and she can't tell one person from another. The thin bangle watch around her wrist reads 1:50pm, and if she knows Spencer at all the girl will be early.
Someone appears in front of her, knowing not to come up behind her because her reflexes are sharper than they used to be. She blinks away the last of the sunlight – even behind her sunglasses the glare is bad – and Spencer is there.