Two
The fluorescent lights and bright white walls of Scoops, Rosewood's old-fashioned ice cream parlor, remind her uncomfortably of the dayroom at the Preserve. The real Alison DiLaurentis resists the urge to squint as she pushes through the door with the handle shaped like an ice cream cone.
"Ali!" Clustered around a round checkered table at the back of the shop are four wide-eyed girls. Ali catalogues them in her head as she carefully picks her way between tables and white plastic chairs.
Long legs, reddish hair, and unflattering t-shirt: Emily. Purple braces and shirt that's ready to pop at the seams: Hanna. Preppy tennis dress and high ponytail: Spencer. Pink-streaked hair and tangled necklaces: Aria. Even without her sister's coerced coaching this morning, Ali would have known that much.
The girls watch her carefully as she approaches the table and pulls out the last remaining chair. They're clearly on-edge after last night's disastrous sleepover. This little ice cream social is an obvious shot at a do-over. Ali resists the urge to roll her eyes. If they only knew.
When she fantasized about reclaiming her life from her pathetic sister, Ali's first course of action was always to dump these four raggedy misfits and find a new, cooler clique to help her rebuild her reputation. But seeing her sister's crestfallen face this morning when she learned about Ali's plans gave her a new, even better idea.
Courtney wasn't good enough, wasn't charismatic enough, wasn't Alison DiLaurentis enough to keep those girls under her spell. And what's the one thing she'd hate more than the real Ali ditching her group altogether?
Her reuniting the clique, making them stronger than they'd ever been under her own rule.
She'll show her sister that no one can take her place. Whatever Courtney thought she'd done, thought she'd accomplished as Alison DiLaurentis, Ali will show her just how naïve she was.
It feels like the girls are holding their breath as Ali lowers herself into the chair. She shoots a long, slow gaze around the table, her face aloof. Then, just when she feels they've suffered enough, she tosses out a smile and what she recently learned was her sister's signature greeting. "Hey, bitches."
All four faces in front of her break out into relieved smiles. "Hey, bitch!" they chorus in return.
Emily slides a cup of light green ice cream toward her. "We got you mint chip. Your favorite," she says shyly.
Courtney's favorite. Ali hates anything mint. Her favorite ice cream is rocky road, but she can't figure out a good reason to switch, so she suffers through a bite.
"I'm sorry about last night," Spencer blurts suddenly. Her eyes are focused stubbornly on the tabletop. "I overreacted about the hypnotism thing."
Ali thinks back to standing outside of the barn the night before, listening through the thin wall as her twin and Spencer had it out. How she'd ducked away from the window just before Spencer threw open the curtains, out of sight but in the perfect position to see the petrified look on her sister's face.
She knows, instinctively somehow, that her sister would immediately accept the apology, with an air of impassivity but secretly thrilled to have her friends back. But the real Ali isn't quite so quick to forgive. If Spencer wants to remain part of this clique that she doesn't really deserve, a little groveling should only be expected.
Ali stirs the spoon in her ice cream cup for a long moment, as if considering. "You did," she agrees at last. "It should have been a fun night."
Spencer's mouth opens and closes. She looks ashamed, but also like she's trying to push down a flare of annoyance. "I know. Like I said, I'm sorry."
"Maybe we can have another sleepover to make up for it," Aria pipes up. "Like a do-over."
Ali tilts her head, considering this. "Maybe. But let's have it in my room this time," she decides. Her sister allowing Spencer to have the first sleepover in her family's barn was probably what started the trouble between them to begin with. Give someone even an inch of power and they'll run with it.
If Ali's going to keep this ragtag group of girls as her clique, it's time they get put back in their place.
"I kind of liked having it in the barn," the frumpy girl – Hanna, Ali remembers – says with a pout. She'd be pretty if she brushed out her hair and started wearing clothes that fit. "It's rustic."
"And it smells like manure," Ali snorts with an air of finality. She wants to make it clear: Alison DiLaurentis has spoken. The subject is closed.
The girls shift uncomfortably. Spencer's cheeks are pink. "No, it…" she begins, but trails off when the door to the shop opens.
Three of the dorkiest girls Ali has ever laid eyes on enter. They make even the losers at the Preserve look like pageant winners. One's even carrying a yoyo. As they approach the counter, Ali suddenly realizes that her friends are all looking at her expectantly. She raises an eyebrow in question. Surely her twin wasn't friends with those girls too, was she?
Eager smiles deflate at the blank look on Ali's face. Spencer chuckles awkwardly. "Uh, not it," she mutters.
"Not it," Aria, Hanna, and Emily echo quietly. Emily frowns at Ali and adds, "Why didn't you say it, too?"
Ali's mind is whirling. Courtney hadn't mentioned anything this morning about whatever this is. Suddenly, she realizes that this must be some sort of game, something in response to the dorky girls that just walked in.
She has to get control of the narrative back, so she tosses her hair flippantly over one shoulder. "Because it's lame."
The others exchange looks of obvious confusion. "We just said it last night," Spencer says slowly. "Remember? When Mona and her friends came up to us?" She nods in the direction of the girls up front. "You started it."
Crap. Ali bites the inside of her cheek. Reclaiming her old life is proving to be full of more roadblocks than she expected. "Yeah, and that's when I realized how stupid it is. We're in eighth grade now. It's time to drop the childish games."
Once again, looks of bewilderment flutter across the girls' faces. "Wow. We started playing that game right after we became friends," Aria comments.
"Exactly," Ali snaps, peeved at the reminder of just how long her sister was masquerading as her, carrying out her little identity theft.
"Okay," Hanna says slowly. She's already devoured her entire cup of ice cream. Binge-eater, Ali reminds herself, thinking back to Courtney's recap in her diary. "We don't have to do it anymore."
Ali can't help but feel a jolt of surprise. She'd watched her sister boss around these girls from the guest room window just yesterday, but their willingness to go along with her every whim without argument is startling. She didn't realize Courtney had such power over them.
Something about it makes her even angrier.
The sound of giggling catches her attention, and she turns her head to see two girls emerging from the short hallway that leads to the bathrooms. Her heart skips a beat just as Naomi and Riley look up and catch her eye.
Her two old best friends. The three of them had ruled Rosewood Day in fifth grade (the two of them playing the role of her loyal sidekicks, of course). They'd spent hours after school at a café in town, gossiping and texting each other covertly about the other loser kids who tried to approach them. She can't even remember now what the place was called, but they'd affectionately dubbed it the "Purple Room" because of the velvet wall hangings that the owner tacked up everywhere.
Now, Naomi's white-blond hair hangs in a sleek curtain down her back. Riley's skin is even paler than Ali remembers. They're wearing matching spaghetti strap tank tops, jean skirts, and scowls. And they're looking right at Ali.
Feeling a pang at the memories, Ali forces herself to turn abruptly away, not giving them a second glance. It's always been obvious why her sister dumped Riley and Naomi immediately after taking over Ali's life. She clearly worried that they'd snuff her out as a fake.
The idea gives Ali another wave of superiority. She doesn't need to drop these four losers as friends to get away with switching back. She's so good at being Alison DiLaurentis that she can slip seamlessly back into the life her sister created, without even a hint of suspicion.
But when she turns back to the table, Spencer's frowning. "I've always wondered," she says, "why did you stop being friends with Naomi and Riley in the first place?"
There's a moment of tense silence. Emily bites her lip nervously. Aria shoots Spencer a clear, "why would you even ask that?" look. This topic has clearly been a big no-no. But maybe Spencer's still reeling after that fight and wants to make Ali suffer a little.
Just like a sister would, Ali thinks, and holds back a grimace. She's been trying her best to block out what she saw last night, her mother pushed up against the side of Spencer's house with Mr. Hastings' arm around her waist.
She blinks out of the memory to find Spencer and the others still looking at her. She shrugs. "I was sick of them," she says simply, then gives them a mysterious smile. It's meant to send a clear message – and maybe one day I'll be sick of you, too. By the looks on the girls' faces, the implication isn't lost on them.
…
An hour later, Ali and Emily walk aimlessly down Rosewood's main drag, alone. Hanna left the ice cream shop not long after the Naomi and Riley incident, claiming a stomachache, and Aria and Spencer weren't far behind her.
Emily's quiet as she walks alongside Ali. At one point, their hands brush against each other, and Emily pulls away like she's been burned. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her shapeless jeans instead.
"Why so quiet?" Ali finally demands. She knows from her sister's diary that Emily's never exactly the life of the party, but the contemplative silence is driving her crazy. It's making her wonder if the reason Emily's being so quiet is because she somehow, inexplicably, suspects that Ali isn't who she claims to be.
But that's ridiculous. Ali's playing her part flawlessly. And even if Emily has noticed something different about her, who in their right mind would jump straight to Ali having replaced her secret twin? Just because it's true doesn't mean it's easy to believe.
At the sharp question, Emily jumps a little. "No reason," she murmurs, but gives Alison a quick sidelong glance that seems to indicate not only that there is a reason, indeed, but that Ali should know what it is.
And then it comes back to her. That morning, Courtney had rushed through all the sordid details of Aria, Hanna, and Spencer's backstories, their secrets. She'd given Ali everything that she'd needed, all of the details she hadn't included in her journal. If she didn't, Ali reminded her, it wasn't too late to spill the beans to their parents.
But when she finished detailing Aria's possible move to Iceland and her dad's illicit affair, she'd clammed up. Ali had raised an eyebrow. "What about Emily?"
"Uh, Emily…" Courtney stammered like a fish flopping out of water for a few long moments before she finally caved. She told Ali about Emily's longtime prudishness, her odd resistance to even ogling any of the hot guys in their class. The admission of a mysterious crush, and Courtney's realization that it wasn't on a guy at all…it was on her. The kiss Emily planted on her in the treehouse just a few weeks ago, and the letter she wrote shortly after, confessing her love for "Alison."
The real Ali's stomach turns. She wants those girls under her spell…to a degree. But she knows as well as anyone else what it's like having a crush – memorizing the person's every mannerism, the tiniest details about their appearance, their voice, the way they move.
What if Emily falls out of love with Ali now, sensing that she's not the same as she used to be? It's not as if Ali feels the same way about her (those baggy jeans alone are enough of a turn-off), but the idea of Emily, or anyone, falling for her sister and not her sends a wave of rage through her whole body.
Or even worse, what if Emily is so in-tune with Courtney that she manages to figure out that the girl beside her isn't the same person? It's not impossible. She's undoubtedly paid more attention to "Ali" than probably all of the other girls combined.
Realizing that she's been silent for a good few minutes, turning all of this over in her mind, Ali snaps back to the present, feeling a little dizzy. She has no idea how her twin would handle this sort of situation, but she figures that directness is her best bet to put it all behind them both. "If you're still worried about that silly kiss, just forget about it," she says lightly. "I have."
Emily's eyes grow wide. For a moment, her expression changes rapidly, as if she's trying to decide if she's relieved or crestfallen. "You have?"
"Sure," Ali says, and the word comes out a little sharper than intended. But maybe that's a good thing – maybe she can quash this crush thing right off the bat. "I mean, obviously it's never going to go farther than that. So why dwell on it?"
She sneaks a glance over at Emily as they round the corner toward Ali's street. There's no mistaking the emotion on her face now – definitely crestfallen.
Alison turns her head away, and smiles.
Thank you for the kind reviews on the last chapter! I do want to clarify that when I mentioned a lack of feedback lessening my motivation for this story, I'm not referring to my actual love of writing, but simply of putting in the effort to edit and upload chapters on here when it doesn't seem that people are reading. With that aside, I hope you enjoyed this first real look into Alison's head - I'm curious to know if anyone has developed a preference for Ali or Courtney's chapters yet!