XII.
They spent the rest of that evening answering questions as vaguely as they could — they were just curious fourth-years, exploring the campus, when they came across the Commons and found the body inside. They had no idea that Mike Montgomery would be there. They hardly knew the boy. They were just as shocked as anyone to find him dead.
That night Lucas, Caleb, and Hanna waited in her room. What they were waiting for, none of them could have said exactly. Lucas wrung his hands a lot, wiping the sweat all along his jeans, his shirt. Caleb clicked away minimally at his laptop, frowning every now and then, but remaining silent. Hanna checked her phone every five minutes, refreshing her Facebook page and Twitter and finding trivial changes.
Then, her phone hummed. Caleb's, too. Finally, Lucas's pinged with a text.
Game over. — A
"Game over?" Lucas frowned. "What game?"
As if answering his question, Hanna's phone lit up with another text.
Check your bag, Hanna Banana. You win.
She reached for her bag, which had been slumped in the corner of her room. She dumped out its contents across the floor, searching frantically through the many tubes of lip gloss and the assorted hair scrunchies she'd thought she'd lost forever.
Finding nothing, she reached into the bag again and felt a bulge in one of the side pockets.
She unzipped the pouch. Inside, she found a wad of hundred-dollar bills.
She counted them out once, twice, three times. In her hands, Hanna had $10,000 in cash.
The next morning, the first headline after the discovery of Mike's body turned up on the unofficial Rosewood Academy gossip column blog: "Arson, Blackmail, Hacking — Fourth-Year Aria Montgomery Withdraws from RA."
Hanna's phone was in a constant state of ringing. She answered one call before shutting off her phone for the day.
The call was from Caleb.
"She was 'A,'" were the first words out of his mouth when Hanna picked up. "Aria Montgomery, of all people, was 'A.'"
"I know," Hanna heard herself saying. Her own voice was breathy and faraway in her ears. "I can't believe it."
One of Rosewood Academy's shining, diamond girls was reduced to a dirty pebble overnight. The Montgomery family had held themselves so tightly together with wrapping that, when one of them burst through, they all fell out, exposed.
Hanna listened vaguely as Caleb read her the articles he was finding about Aria: "The honors student and young socialite admitted to setting a campus landmark on fire and planting evidence on fellow Rosewood Academy fourth year, Hanna Marin, blackmailing her for the crime. Montgomery also confessed to accessing confidential school databases and tampering with academic records. At the same time, Montgomery's father Byron - former head of the financial office - resigned from his position, leaving in his wake a string of accusations regarding embezzlement and record fraud during his time at Rosewood Academy. Family matriarch Ella also resigned and declined to comment on the allegations being launched against her family. 'At this time, I can't explain or offer an excuse for my actions,' Aria Montgomery stated early this morning in a press conference following her withdrawal from the academy. 'However, I wish to issue an apology to Hanna Marin. I'm sure she knows by now why I did what I did. She should also know, however, how deeply I regret it.'"
Caleb scoffed. "She did it to save her family's ass," he said. "And they left her to take the fall."
"Is that pity I hear in your voice, Mr. Rivers?" Hanna said, only half-teasing.
"Not pity," Caleb said. "Just complete and utter bafflement."
"That's a funny word."
"It is." He laughed. "It's the only word that sums up the soup my brain has become trying to figure all this out. The treehouse burning, the scholarship issue, these texts from 'A'? Finally knowing who was behind it —"
"Is the greatest feeling in the world," Hanna finished.
"Yeah," said Caleb. "Exactly. Exactly."
When she and Caleb hung up, someone knocked on Hanna's dorm room door. She opened it and saw the Cavanaugh Hall resident adviser standing in the hall. "There's a call downstairs for you," the lanky guy in a maroon Rosewood Academy hoodie said, shrugging. "Pick up the phone in the lobby."
Hanna bounded down the staircases, her heart pounding, though she couldn't say why. When she picked up the phone and said, "Hello?" a woman's gentle voice greeted her.
"Hanna Marin?" said the woman.
"Speaking."
"This is Pam Fields in the finance office. I believe you were contacted a short while ago by a former chair-member, Mr. Montgomery? well, I'm calling to inform you that the misunderstanding about your scholarship has been addressed. You will continue to receive your full scholarship to Rosewood Academy."
Hanna opened her biology book during her first block and found $500 tucked neatly in between pages 12 and 13. She sucked in a breath, looking around to see if this was the doing of anyone in the room. No one was watching her, so she figured they were all innocent.
Which left only one person who could have slipped the money into her book.
After class, Hanna marched to the Grand Library, and seeing the stained glass and red carpet reminded her of that day a week earlier, when she'd come here for the same reason.
To see Caleb Rivers with his laptop on his knees, legs crossed on a plush armchair, oblivious but all too aware of the disgusted looks he was receiving.
"You seem to have misplaced something, sir," Hanna said, slapping the money onto his keyboard.
He looked up at her through his messy hair. He had unintentional bangs, and Hanna felt a tiny pang of jealousy at how well he pulled them off. "You know, people are going to start getting suspicious if you keep turning up and throwing huge amounts of money at me." He picked up the money and held it out to her without so much as glancing at Benjamin Franklin's all-knowing face.
"Caleb," Hanna said.
"Hanna," he replied, biting down his smirk.
"You earned this money. Don't you go all noble on me now. It doesn't suit you."
He pouted. "Oh, geez. I'm hurt. Maybe I just don't want to accept this payment because the thrill of having solved this great mystery is more than enough compensation for me."
"Maybe." Hanna rolled her eyes. "Or maybe you're giving me back the money so that I can owe you in some other way."
Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Are you implying that I want to sexually exploit you?"
"Or, you know. Get me to write a paper for you. Cover your dinner bill. Help you hack into the Russian government's databases or something equally sinister. 'Hey, Hanna, you mind fluffing my pillows for me? Don't forget about that time I helped you out and gave you back your money.'"
Caleb paused thoughtfully. The money was still up in the air. "You really think I'd do that?" he said, lightly, as though her answer wouldn't really matter to him either way.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't want to owe anyone anything."
He chewed a bit on the end of his smile. "Okay." He tucked the wad of money into a pocket on the front of her bag. "So you don't owe me anything."
"Caleb, please."
"Is it so hard to believe that maybe someone would want to do something to help you — no strings attached, no fee required? That maybe you shouldn't have to pay somebody for looking out for you?" He shut his laptop, set it on the table in front of him and stood, making Hanna feel incredibly small. "Don't be so quick to throw your cash at me, Princess. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a heart."
She blushed. "I know that."
"You know a lot of things," said Caleb. "But I don't think you know what I'm trying to say." He gestured around the library, its massiveness and extravagance. "At first glance, you're one of those girls who belongs here. You're blonde and brilliant and beautiful, and no one looks twice at you when you walk into a library whose windows cost more than my mortgage. If you were anybody else, I would have not only kept your money, but charged you double just because if there's one thing I hate, it's a rich girl."
Hanna knew that feeling all too well; the silent, hot resentment she felt whenever she saw a pair of diamond-encrusted ballet flats, or a ruby-studded butterfly hairpin nestled among deeply shampooed curls. She touched her own plastic headband self-consciously, the residue of cheapness coming away on her fingertips.
Caleb watched her movements, smirking. "You're not one of them," he said. "I've learned that over the course of four years. You look blonde, but you act brunette. You're brilliant, but you've never waved an A+ term paper in my face or texted me daily updates on your academic rank."
Hanna laughed. "Subtle Spencer Hastings shade."
Caleb smiled. "You're not a Spencer Hastings. Or an Aria Montgomery. Or any of the other girls at RA. That," he said, "is why I helped you out. Not because you waved $500 in my face. Though that was a strong incentive, at first."
"Of course." Hanna smiled.
"I'd like to think," said Caleb, "that we've reached that point in our friendship where we can do things like that. Like hack stuff for each other. And eavesdrop for each other. And take care of each other."
"Take care," Hanna repeated, her voice rising despite her efforts to keep it flat.
"Yes," Caleb said. "Care."
"People don't just automatically care for people, Caleb."
"Talk about trust issues," he said, rolling his eyes. "You know what? Maybe you were right. Maybe I'm exchanging the money for some bigger favor. Maybe there is some ulterior motive. Maybe there is something I want."
"So let me get this straight," said Hanna. "You do want something, but you don't want my money?"
"Jesus Christ, Hanna."
Several annoyed library-goers had already been shooting them venomous looks, but their eyes widened with rapt attention now, as Caleb pulled her in. A heavy moment hung in the air while nothing happened. While Caleb simply stared her down, clenching his fists — which where gripping the fabric of her sleeves — as though fighting himself on the issue of what to do next, now that he had her.
He decided, in the end, to kiss her.
His mouth connected with hers like a car crash. The impact sent shocks through the both of them. He held her in place, though he didn't have to; she was stunned, standing perfectly still. The only parts of her that she could be certain were still functioning were her lips, moving with his, and her heart, pounding audibly in her chest.
When he pulled away, Hanna felt like she'd burst out from a dream too soon, her whole body contracting from the loss.
"I don't want your stupid money," Caleb said, biting his lip.
Hanna nodded.
She knew what it was that he wanted now.