Well, the finale was...underwhelming. Can't say I'm thrilled, and I'll definitely be changing the backstory a little when I get to it, just so it, you know...makes sense. Thanks to nick2951, RHatch89, Siren of the Dark Seas, and Pinkpoodle8 for the reviews. Please let me know what you think (next chapter is a big one!) and feel free to check out my newest story, "What Keeps Us Close."

Chapter 7

My plan for staying out of the drama and away from the girls who seem to carry it with them has failed.

I'm now involved in the charity fashion show. And it's all my mother's fault.

She's been saying for a while now that I need to get more involved in things around town. Charity work, volunteering, that sort of thing. It's not that I don't like charity work. It's just that I don't like the people around here who are involved in charity work.

But then Mona had a complete meltdown in the middle of the night over the stupid programs for the show, and that spurred my mom to decide that me joining the committee would be the perfect way for me to "get involved" and also help my sister not totally lose her mind.

It's way too late for the second thing, but of course I can't tell my mother that.

So that's why I'm slumped down in the first row of seats along the side of the stage after school. The show is in two days so everything is mostly already in place. All that I really have to do is sit around and watch the run-throughs.

I should have gone to volunteer at the local soup kitchen instead. There, at least, there's no headache-inducing music and no one is freaking out. Just in the last five minutes, Mona has asked Aria why her legs are so short and Spencer has stormed off, claiming a migraine. I may not be far behind.

I wait impatiently until break, then lean over to my sister and hiss, "There is not a person in this room who does not want to murder you."

She smiles sweetly at me. "And who will they be thanking when this show is an amazing success? Now, be a doll and go get me some water."

I open and close my mouth a few times, but when I can't think of a good comeback, I swear under my breath and stomp off, wondering how quickly sleeping pills can dissolve in water.

…

It's kind of ironic that the one thing I would have liked to be involved in with this fashion show is actually being in it, but that's the one thing that I can't do.

By the time I got involved, there were more than enough models for all of the outfits, and under no circumstances was anyone willing to redo the staging for anything.

The fashion show is in full swing, and I'm sitting in the front row, taking pictures that I plan on sending in to the local newspaper. I've actually got to give my crazy sister some props – the show's amazing. The music is loud and fast and the models all look great. I almost wish I had gotten involved in this sooner.

Once the last outfit has been shown and the applause dies down, Spencer, Hanna, Aria, and Emily take to the stage as Noel, the appointed DJ, announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, the Rosewood High student committee would like to take a moment to pay tribute to one of their own, Alison DiLaurentis."

The lights dim as the projector on the back wall of the stage comes to life, filled with pictures of Alison. The girls stand in front of it, smiling out at the crowd, and it's actually really beautiful.

For about ten seconds.

Suddenly the music abruptly changes, the singer screeching out, "Wake up everybody, because the bitch is back!"

"Turn it off!" someone screams to Noel, as the picture of Alison on the screen is twisted and almost demonized. The word "bitch" is plastered across the screen.

"I can't!" Noel yells back. I twist around in my seat, watching him fumble around with his equipment. The crowd is screaming and watching in horror. Mrs. DiLaurentis rises from her seat and rushes up the aisle, Jason full-speed behind her. Spencer rushes off of the stage and shoves Noel out of the way, unplugging everything she sees until the screen finally goes black.

I stare around the room, my heart sinking. Some people are staring. Others are yelling, looking furious, and others are crying. The DiLaurentises are nowhere in sight.

My heart is pounding hard. I try to move from my seat and go backstage, but my legs feel like they're made of stone. This is too much. This is way too much.

The audience clears out pretty quickly after that display. I wait until most people are gone, then storm backstage, pushing the curtain out of my way. Aria is the only one around, packing up her hair products. I walk right up to her and snap through clenched teeth, "Have you seen Mona?"

She obviously notices the venom in my voice. Her brow wrinkles and she says, "No. Not since the show started."

I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. "What happened back there…that was totally an 'A' message, right?"

Aria fumbles with a can of hair spray and drops it. "It was Noel," she says quietly. "He had the CD."

What? Noel? That is completely impossible, but I go with it. "Um, so you think Noel might be 'A'?"

"I – " Aria starts, then looks over my shoulder and puts her finger to her lips. I turn. Jason DiLaurentis is walking up.

"Hey," he says to Aria, "I thought you might need a ride home?"

"Oh. Sure," she answers, zipping up her bag. "Thanks."

He looks over at me, looking a little surprised. "Viola. Hey. Need a ride?"

I have a hard time meeting his eyes, but I manage to just long enough to say, "Um, I should probably wait for my sister. But thanks."

"I'll talk to you later, alright?" Aria says with a pointed look. I nod, and she walks off with Jason, leaving me alone with another memory.

…

I wasn't sure how long I'd been sitting in the middle of the cold sidewalk. My back was aching, my eyes seemed to be out of tears, and my head was still spinning. I was beginning to wonder if I really had only had one beer. It didn't seem like it and I couldn't even remember anymore.

I pushed my hair out of my eyes, trying to compose myself before mustering the strength to stand up, when a dark car pulled up along the street beside me. I leapt to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. I had no idea what kind of car Ian drove, but I wasn't about to take any chances that he was back to finish what he started, and was just about to run when the window rolled down.

Alison's older brother leaned over the passenger seat to look at me. It took me a minute to recognize him. He was already out of high school…actually, he was the same age as Ian and Melissa. Other than that, though, I didn't know much about him.

"Hey," he called, leaning out the window a little. "You alright?"

"Um, yeah," I answered, wiping my eyes on my arm. "I'm fine."

He raised his eyebrows, looking me up and down, though in more of a concerned way than a creepy one. "You don't look fine. Why don't I give you a ride home?"

The last thing I wanted to do was get in a car with a practical stranger, especially a man in his mid-twenties. I tried to take a step back, but my head felt like it was about to split open as soon as I moved my legs. There was no way that I would be able to walk home like this. And I couldn't call my mom to come and get me. She would ask too many questions.

So I sighed and jumped into the passenger seat of the car before I could think too hard about it. "Thanks."

"No problem." He put the car in drive and pulled away from the sidewalk. I averted my eyes from the window when we passed Sean's house. "You're a Vanderwaal, right?"

I glanced over at him, suspicious of basically everything and everyone right now. "Yeah. How do you know that?"

I must have sounded more alarmed than I thought, because he laughed and said, "Calm down. I just guessed. Alison pointed out your sister to me one day. You look a lot like her."

Why did Alison do that? I wondered, pressing my hand to my pounding forehead. And would Jason be being nice to me if he knew what I said to his sister just an hour ago? Or was it two hours? The clock in the car said that it was after midnight.

"Turn left here," I groaned when we got to Main Street. "My house is a few blocks up."

Jason turned the wheel, and glanced at me once the car was straight again. "You look rough. Too much to drink?"

I tried to smile but achieved more of a grimace. "Um. I guess. Something like that."

"You don't remember?" he asked, though he barely sounded surprised. "You better be careful. That stuff can seriously screw you up. Trust me." He paused for a second, shaking his head. "I'd know."

I studied him out of the corner of my eye. What did that mean? Did Jason basically just admit to me that he was an alcoholic? Granted, I had never had much to do with the DiLaurentis family, aside from avoiding Alison every time I saw her, but they always seemed like one of the typical Rosewood perfect families to me, Jason included. I had never imagined that he was a drinker.

"It was just a bad night," I mumbled, leaning my head against the window. "I don't usually drink."

"Good," he said as the car pulled up in front of my house. "This it?"

"Yeah." I undid my seatbelt and opened the door. "Thanks for the ride. I think I'm gonna try and make coffee without my mom noticing."

"Wait." Jason reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. My eyes widened and my heart skipped. I recoiled away. But he didn't move, didn't even take his other hand off of the steering wheel. "Bad idea. Coffee won't help you now. Go in and go to sleep, make coffee in the morning. A lot of it."

That was good advice, aside from the fact that I never drank coffee. "My mom can't find out I was drinking," I pleaded. "She'll kill me."

"She won't find out," Jason said reassuringly. "Get up an hour earlier to make the coffee. Rinse the pot out when you're done and light a candle. No one has to know."

I felt my nerves begin to subside and took a deep breath. "Okay. Thanks again."

"No problem," he said, nodding casually and putting the car back into gear. "Better get inside before your parents catch you."

My mom might have killed me if she found out I was drinking, but my father would do way worse if he caught me in a car with an older guy. An adult. I scrambled out of the car and waved as he sped off.