Emily sat on her window seat, holding her phone and texting Spencer. Outside, the night was quiet, the moon casting a beautiful glow over the town. Inside, her thoughts were far from peaceful. Maya was spending the night, currently changing into her pajamas, and Emily couldn't focus on anything but the conversation she'd had with her earlier.
Why not date someone you actually have chemistry with, and who treats you like you deserve? Emily's mind kept replaying those words. Maya's flirtatious tone and the soft stroke down Emily's arm—it made her feel electrified and confused. Did Maya have feelings for her? Or was she being a supportive friend, implying that Emily deserved better than her current relationship? The ambiguity had driven Emily crazy all day.
She was tempted to ask Maya, but the scenario played out uncomfortably in her mind. "Hey, remember when you said I should date someone I have chemistry with? Were you talking about you?" She cringed at the thought of asking that. It sounded ridiculous.
Emily groaned. Why were feelings so complicated? It'd be so much easier if people just said what they meant. But where's the thrill in that?
She stared at her phone screen, deciding whether to text Spencer about this. She needed someone to help her make sense of things. But Spencer was struggling with her own issues, as her following text proved.
Spencer: I hate my life.
Emily: Is it because of Mr. Fitz?
Spencer: You mean Mr. Freak? Yeah, he's part of it, but it's my family. I'm sick of them, especially Melissa's fiancé.
Spencer: Any chance your mom wants to adopt me?
Emily jokingly texted, "I'll talk to her about it," as Maya entered her room. The light from the bedside lamp highlighted her adorable pajamas. She smiled at Emily, and for a minute, Emily's doubts disappeared.
"Thanks again for letting me stay here."
"It's no problem. You can stay as long as you want." Emily's phone vibrated and she laughed at Spencer's text.
Maya's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she asked, "Who are you texting?"
"Spencer," Emily responded, her thumbs tapping away.
Maya moved around the room. "Yeah, she seemed funny. Are you the closest to her?"
"I don't really feel close to any of them anymore, but Spencer and I have the most in common. We both like to win. The difference is that when I've done my best, I usually feel good about the outcome, no matter what it is. But Spencer has to win."
Maya nodded, her attention drawn to something on Emily's dresser. It was a picture of Emily, Spencer, Hanna, Aria, and Alison, all five of them frozen in time. Emily felt pain coursing through her body just looking at Alison's face.
"Alison was always in the middle—the center of attention," Maya observed, her fingertips tracing the edge of the picture.
"Have you ever known anyone like that?"
"I usually avoid the queen bees. They're trouble."
"Not always," Emily replied. Hanna wasn't trouble; Mona was the one who led her down a dark path. And while Alison had a mean streak, she was also sweet and down-to-earth. At least with Emily.
Maya gestured to the bed. "Do you have a side of the bed?"
"I kinda sleep in the middle," Emily revealed.
Maya's movements became slower and more deliberate. She climbed onto the bed, her eyes locked with Emily's. "I kinda sleep in the middle too."
She sounded flirtatious again. Emily wanted to believe that Maya's words and actions implied something more, but what if she was misinterpreting the situation?
If Maya did like her, what would she do? Maya was nice, beautiful, and clearly deserving of her heart. The two of them got along well, and Emily believed their relationship could be great. But Alison was everything to her. She'd poured all of her love into that relationship, and she wasn't sure if she had any more to give. She wasn't sure if she wanted to love anyone else. The idea of exposing herself to that kind of pain again was terrifying.
But the thought of rejecting Maya was just as terrifying. Maya had stayed by her side, filling the void Alison had left. If she pushed Maya away, would she lose her forever?
Did that mean she had no choice but to be with Maya? To keep her close, even if it meant risking her heart again? But again, she might be jumping the gun. There was a chance Maya didn't like her that way.
Emily got up from the window seat, put her phone on the dresser, and said, "We should go to bed."
Maya crawled under the covers, snuggling into the middle of the bed. Emily did the same on the opposite side. They lay facing each other and exchanged a final "good night." Maya's eyes closed and she fell asleep immediately, but Emily laid there. After a while, she rolled onto her back, hoping the change in position would help. It didn't. She rolled onto her other side, but sleep eluded her. She huffed and got up, pacing the room.
She was obviously having trouble sleeping because Maya was in the bed with her. It made her feel like a traitor. Yes, Alison was gone and Emily was free to move on, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Alison was looking down at her, unhappy. Emily never wanted to betray Alison, not in this life and not in the afterlife. So she couldn't go back to bed with Maya. Maybe she'd sleep on the floor instead.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated. She checked it, expecting a message from Spencer, but it was from someone far worse.
Hold her tight. She could be gone tomorrow.
-A
Emily looked at the words, her breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. Gone tomorrow? Was that a death threat? Emily knew "A" was wicked, but she had no idea they were a killer! And why target Maya? She hadn't done anything wrong!
She looked down at Maya, who was fast asleep. Emily had to protect her, so she definitely couldn't sleep tonight. She had to be on guard in case A made good on their threat.
She sat at the window seat and looked out. The night felt too quiet, like it was holding its breath. She had to stay vigilant, but as the hours passed, her eyes drooped and she felt herself succumbing to fatigue. Just one hour, she told herself. Just one hour to rest her eyes. But even as her body gave way, her mind remained alert, ready to act at the first sign of danger.
...
"Emily?"
Someone shook her. She shot up, ready for action. But it was only Maya standing before her.
"Hey, Maya," Emily said, massaging her neck. It was sore from the angle she'd fallen asleep.
Maya's eyes narrowed. "Why aren't you in bed?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"Because of me, huh?" Maya sounded sour. "Sorry, I'll be out of your hair soon."
"No!" Emily exclaimed. Maya raised her eyebrows as she turned to face her again. "I think you should stay for a few more days."
"Why?"
Emily avoided mentioning A. "Why not? You don't like being home. You said it reminded you of Alison."
"And your room doesn't?" Maya said. Her eyes returned to the framed pictures scattered about. "Look around, Emily. She's everywhere. So being here is just like being home."
"Please just stay," Emily begged. She didn't want A to hurt her.
Maya crossed her arms. "I don't think I should. I don't want you falling asleep on the window again. You should be able to sleep in your own bed."
"I promise you haven't done anything wrong," Emily said. "It's just..."
Maya finished her sentence. "Alison."
Emily was shocked at how well Maya was able to read her. A part of her wanted to deny it, to block out the memories that threatened to drown her. But what was the point? Maya saw right through her. "I felt guilty."
"Guilty of what? She's not here."
"I know," Emily muttered. "But she's still in my heart. And sleeping next to you felt like I was betraying her."
Maya's face hardened. "So that's it? It's always gonna be about Alison? Even when she's not here, she's all you see."
"Well, yeah. I loved her, Maya. You know how much I've lost."
"What about what you could gain? Are you gonna let Alison hold you back forever? If your answer is yes, then okay. But consider this: do you really want to be lonely for the rest of your life?"
Then she left to get ready for school. Emily had no idea where to start with her question. But she knew she had a lot to think about.
Aria got up earlier than usual. She had to meet Ezra because they had something important to talk about. He mentioned it was about Spencer, which made her nervous.
Yesterday, Ezra had pulled Spencer out of class after she made a slick remark about him. While Aria didn't know what had been said between them, Ezra had warned her it wasn't good.
Spencer's attitude towards him had completely changed, from respectful to rude. Aria wondered if her worst fear had come true: had Spencer found out about their relationship? But how could that be? They'd been as discreet as possible, showing affection only away from prying eyes. And their chats were limited to the English room when it was empty. How could Spencer have found out their secret?
Aria looked in the mirror, and her reflection revealed the stress on her face. Things wouldn't go well if Spencer knew. She was the mother of the group, fiercely protective and always ready to fight for them. Aria respected that about her, but this was one instance where she needed Spencer to look the other way. Yes, Ezra was older, but he was perfect for her. She could feel it in her bones: they were meant to be. She needed Spencer to feel it, too.
Aria finished her morning routine with the stealth of a burglar. Her fingers clutched the clasp of her bag before she descended the stairs. But as fate would have it, Byron was already downstairs.
"Aria, wait," Byron said.
She stopped, a breath of frustration escaping her lips. "What?"
"I don't appreciate what you tried to do yesterday."
"You mean tell Mom the truth? Something you should've done," Aria shot back, her words cutting like shards of glass.
Byron exhaled. "Look, Aria. I don't like to lie, but sometimes telling the truth does more harm than good."
"So you want Mom to think she has a faithful husband forever?"
Byron tried to build a bigger picture for her. "It's not just your mother. Think about Mike. He'll be devastated if he finds out what I did."
"You should've thought about that before you cheated."
His expression changed to one of displeasure as he realized cooperation wasn't on the agenda for the day. "Listen-" he began, but his sentence was cut short.
"What's going on here?" Ella's appearance came as abruptly as a sun shower. "Don't tell me you two are fighting again."
Byron's lips curled into a shape that betrayed no happiness. "We're trying to work things out."
Ella's statement was made with an optimistic tone. "Okay, good. Because I have plans for us this afternoon. We're going out to eat as a family."
"Is that necessary?" Aria asked.
"You don't want to spend time with us?"
Aria's love for her mother competed with her dislike for Byron. "Of course I do, but we eat as a family every day. What makes going out so special?"
Ella's melancholy could be felt. "Well, I hope it makes us appreciate each other more. Our family has never felt so distant. It makes me sad."
That wasn't good. Aria had kept quiet about Byron's affair to spare her the pain, but she was still depressed. Aria didn't want to make her sadder, so she agreed. "Sure, Mom, we can go out. But I have to go."
Ella's eyes followed her to the door. "So early?"
"Yeah, I have to meet a friend," Aria said. Then she was gone.
...
Aria arrived at apartment 3B, where Ezra had told her he lived. She knocked, and he opened the door with a friendly smile. "Hey, come on in," he said, stepping aside so she could enter.
She took in the small, cluttered interior. The shelves were filled with novels, and the coffee table was piled high with books of all sizes and genres. The place felt cozy and lived in, a perfect reflection of Ezra.
She glanced over to the corner where a rocking chair sat. Next to it, she noticed an old-fashioned typewriter. She walked over to it, her interest piqued. Giggling, she pressed a few keys at random, enjoying the clacking sound they made.
"Do you actually use this?" she wondered, looking over her shoulder at Ezra.
"As a paperweight," he joked, raising the corner of his mouth in a half-smile. "It's mostly to remind myself that there was literature before laptops. What do you think?"
"I like it. Thanks for asking me."
"You're welcome."
Her smile widened at his politeness. Every conversation with him felt like a step deeper into a garden of affection, and she grew more enchanted with every word they shared.
She rooted herself in the present. "So what's going on?"
Ezra's statement carried a cautious undertone. "Spencer knows we're together."
Aria's heart stopped, her darkest nightmare becoming reality. "How the hell does she know?"
"Emily saw us kissing at the funeral."
The pieces fell into place with an unpleasant clarity. Emily's attitude towards Aria, as well as her accusations, suddenly made perfect sense. She'd known all along, and now Aria had to deal with both her and Spencer's backlash.
Ezra continued. "Now you understand why I'm worried. My job—"
Aria quickly bridged the remaining distance between them. "Ezra, I'd never do anything to jeopardize your career," she said with sincerity. "You've worked hard to become a teacher, and you're good at it. The students love you. Not as much as I do, but..." They laughed, an escape from the gravity of their situation. "What I'm saying is, the next step is up to you. If you want to end it here, I understand."
"No."
"No?" Aria repeated, surprised.
"Ending this would be the right thing to do. But being with you feels right, too," Ezra acknowledged, holding her hand. Her heartbeat quickened and she lost herself in his blue eyes. "I've never felt this way about anyone before, Aria."
"I don't believe that. Surely you've had plenty of girlfriends."
"A few. I even almost got married. But what you and I have is the most real thing I've ever experienced."
Aria's cheeks flushed, her heart echoing what he said. "Same here. You're the first guy that I really like."
"Now I don't believe that," Ezra teased.
Aria's admission was a step back into the past. "Well, there was a guy. Noel Kahn, actually. But he didn't notice me."
"I don't see how that's possible. You're mesmerizing."
Aria's fingertips moved to his chest. "And you're irresistible. So you're right; we'll stick with this. But I'll talk to my friends and try to get them to see the good in you, like I do."
"I hope you can get through to them. Especially Spencer. She hates me, Aria."
"She'll love you, don't worry," Aria assured him, patting his chest with confidence. Looking at the time, she realized the morning was slipping away. "We should get going. I'd ask you to take me to school, but..."
"I can, but I have to drop you off a few blocks away. Is that okay?"
"That's fine with me."
He was fine.
Spencer didn't want to hear anyone say "good morning" because her mornings were never good. Seeing her family first thing in the morning always made her miserable, and today would be no exception.
Last night she made a scene at dinner and left early, storming out in a fit of rage. When her family came home, none of them said anything to her, all too upset by her behavior. Spencer was cool with it; she didn't want to talk to them anyway.
The same could be said for Mr. Fitz. She didn't want to see, hear, or look at him again. Unfortunately, he was her teacher. She could transfer out of his class, but that would require her to explain why she didn't want to be his student, which she couldn't do for Aria's sake. So she was stuck with him, which sucked because she knew she was going to fail. How was she supposed to concentrate on his lessons when all she could think about was what was going on with him behind the scenes?
Spencer felt suffocated, trapped in a town that didn't understand her and surrounded by the wrong people. She couldn't wait to get out of Rosewood and find a place where she really belonged, where she didn't have to fight to be heard or deal with freaks like Mr. Fitz.
After getting ready, she went downstairs. Her family had already gathered, and as soon as she walked into the room, they turned to look at her. Spencer tried to ignore them, but their stares pierced her.
Of course, Melissa had to speak up. "Oh, look who's here."
Spencer's anger flared again, but she kept her voice calm. "What did I do now?"
"You ruined our dinner!"
"Blame Mom and Dad for making me go."
The constant fighting frustrated Peter. "You know, Spencer, I'm tired of you blaming us for everything. Your behavior was unacceptable; end of story."
"I really don't care."
"Then maybe you should stay somewhere else."
Spencer's voice rose incredulously. "You're kicking me out?"
Veronica responded with a soft reprimand. "Peter..."
He hurried to explain. "I'm not kicking you out. I just think you should stay with one of your friends for a few days until things cool down. The bickering needs to stop."
Spencer pointed at herself as she cried out, "I'm not the problem here!"
"You're going through a rebellious phase."
"It's not a phase. I'm just over the favoritism."
"There's no favoritism. You're just making yourself out to be a victim," Melissa claimed.
Spencer's glare was deadly. "You know what, Melissa? I am the victim. Wren's. Or at least he wants me to be, since he preys on me. Good luck with the marriage, though."
She stormed off, leaving her family startled. Melissa, more stunned than anyone else, quickly followed. "What are you talking about?"
Spencer kept walking. "Forget it. You won't believe me."
"Just tell me!"
"Fine." Spencer spun around, eyes blazing. "Wren has feelings for me."
Melissa's face was filled with a variety of emotions. Shock, anger, and then a forced calm. She laughed, but it sounded hollow. "You're wrong. He's just being nice."
"Yeah, that's what I thought when he offered to massage me. Then his hands moved down my spine like he wanted to touch my butt. And last night he told me that he was fascinated by the fire in me, and that he'd made the mistake of falling for the wrong sister. So am I really misunderstanding things?"
Melissa's nonchalance turned into a grimace. Spencer continued. "I know you think I'm trying to ruin your happiness, but..."
"I believe you."
Spencer blinked, surprised. "You do?"
Melissa nodded sadly as she paced with her hands on her hips. "I should've known something was up. All he talks about is you. He even asked for your phone number, but I told him no."
"He got it, and he sent me a text. I blocked him."
"He was probably snooping through my phone." Melissa covered her face. "God, why do I always fall for idiots?"
"You have terrible taste in men," Spencer commented. Seeing Melissa's offended look, she stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. "But you don't need a man when you have me. We need to start supporting each other, Melissa."
"You're right. Dad's tired of fighting, and so am I." She took Spencer's hand, her tone softening. "Our bond will be what it always should've been: inseparable. So come on. Let's go inside."
Spencer was anchored to the spot. "I don't think Dad wants to see me."
Melissa glanced over her shoulder. "He has no choice. I'll tell him you're not going anywhere."
Spencer's smile was a beacon of their newfound sisterhood, lighting the way to a future where men would no longer cast shadows over their relationship. The truth about Wren had set them free, and they stepped back into the house as a united front.
Veronica's worry etched lines across her forehead. "Girls, what's going on?"
Melissa spoke. "Spencer's staying. Wren's the one who's leaving."
As if summoned, Wren entered. "I heard my name?"
Melissa confronted him. "Pack your shit and get out."
Peter wanted clarification. "Melissa, what's going on?"
"He's a cheater," Melissa said, her accusation echoing as she approached Wren. "Did you think I wouldn't find out you were flirting with my sister?"
"What?" Veronica looked horrified. "Spencer, is that true?"
"Yes. He has feelings for me."
Veronica's command was as sharp as a guillotine blade. "Oh no. Wren, it's time to go."
"Now," Melissa growled.
Wren's confession was a feeble attempt at redemption. "I guess I'll pack my things, but I meant no harm, Mr. and Mrs. Hastings. I just got carried away. And Melissa—"
Melissa's dismissive wave blocked his excuses. "I don't want to hear it."
He frowned, staring at Spencer as if he wanted to say something but knew it wasn't appropriate. With a sigh, he turned and left. Peter rushed to Melissa's side. "Melissa, I am so sorry. I was looking forward to walking you down the aisle."
"Me too. Now I have to cancel everything," Melissa lamented before she started up the stairs. She paused, and turned her attention back to Spencer. "And, Spencer? Thanks for telling me the truth."
"No problem," Spencer said supportively. Then, with a hint of mischief, she asked, "Hey, what about the engagement ring?"
Melissa's eyes rested on the ring, a sign of broken promises. "Oh, he's not getting it back. I'll pawn it."
Spencer laughed. Savage.
Hanna was in a wonderful mood as she bounded down the stairs. She felt like she was walking on air, a big smile on her face. She entered the kitchen with a "Good morning!" to find her mother making eggs on the stove.
Ashley looked up. "Good morning, Hanna."
"How do I look?" Hanna spun around, showing off her chic blouse paired with a stylish skirt. Her immaculately styled hair cascaded in soft waves, and the necklace she'd almost stolen completing her look.
"You look stunning," Ashley said, her eyes catching the shimmer of the necklace. "Is that new?"
Hanna's fingers brushed the pendant. "Yes. Wilden gave me the money for it."
Ashley's eyebrow arched. "He buys things for you now?"
"I guess so," Hanna replied, her eyes drifting to the stove. "We're eating breakfast now?"
"As long as Wilden's here, yes. And he likes his eggs over easy. Do you want a plate?"
"Actually, yeah. I think we should start eating as a family."
"I didn't know you considered Wilden family."
"I guess I'm warming up to him," Hanna admitted, watching her mother's skillful movements.
"Well, don't get too attached, Hanna. This arrangement is temporary."
"It doesn't have to be. Maybe the two of you can turn this fling into something real."
Ashley's eyebrows furrowed as she turned to face her, spatula still in hand. "Okay, I'm confused. Just yesterday you said you didn't want to buy him Father's Day cards. What changed?"
Hanna explained. "Wilden didn't have to give me two hundred dollars for this necklace, but he did. I think he cares about me. About us. So if squeezing his grapefruit turns into something more, I approve."
Ashley shut down the idea. "It won't. And please stop saying 'squeezing his grapefruit.' It's graphic."
"Mom, seriously-" Hanna began, but Wilden's arrival interrupted their exchange. She greeted him with an uncharacteristically cheerful tone. "Good morning!"
"Morning, Hanna," he greeted, waving his phone like a peace offering. "I have good news. The charges have been dropped."
Hanna's eyes widened. "Seriously? I'm safe?"
"As long as you don't do it again."
Ashley's appreciation poured out. "Thank you, Wilden."
"Seriously! You're a lifesaver!" Hanna exclaimed, hugging him. Wilden, who was stiff with shock at first, slowly returned the hug. As they parted, Hanna asked him, "So what happens now?"
"Well, my job is done. I guess my time here is done, too."
Hanna's hand reached out as if she wanted to hold on to the moment. "Don't be in a hurry to leave. Can we talk about this after school or something? There's a lot that needs to be said."
"I guess," Wilden agreed. "And sorry, Ashley, I can't stay for breakfast. Work called and-"
Ashley raised her hand. "I understand. Hanna and I will eat these eggs ourselves."
As he nodded and left, Hanna turned to her mother, her mind racing with plans. "Okay, you have to make him the best dinner. What does he like besides eggs?"
Ashley's annoyance was clear. "Hanna, stop."
"Stop what?"
"Stop trying to replace your father."
Hanna crossed her arms, her confusion giving way to curiosity. "What's so bad about Wilden? He's cute, a man of his word, and-"
"Not your father," Ashley interjected as she turned off the stove. There was a pause, heavy with unspoken words, before Ashley faced her. "You want the truth? Fine. The truth is, it's been a year since the divorce, but I still have feelings for Tom."
Hanna's eyes became soft and sympathetic. "Mom, you have to move on."
"I've tried, Hanna, but it's hard."
Hanna's suggestion was bright and hopeful. "How about we go shopping? It always cheers me up. I can even give you a makeover, and you'll be able to get any man you want."
"Shopping at the mall? I don't think that's wise."
"Sure it is! My name is cleared, and they have amazing stuff there. Like this lip gloss!" she exclaimed, pulling the luxurious tube out of her bag with a flourish.
Ashley eyed the lip gloss. "Wilden got you that, too?"
Hanna hesitated, the truth a bitter pill she didn't want to swallow. "No."
"Then who did?"
"Mom, calm down. I didn't steal it from the mall."
"Then who did you steal it from?"
Hanna knew there was no way out of this conversation. She sighed and confessed. "Some girl at school."
"Well, you're giving it back."
"Why?! She's a trust fund baby. She doesn't need it."
"You don't know what she needs. It belongs to her, not to you. And I honestly don't know why you like stealing so much."
"Relax. It was only a few times," Hanna said, trying to downplay her actions.
"That's too many times, Hanna. It's starting to worry me. I'm afraid you might be a..."
"A what? A normal teenager?"
"A kleptomaniac," Ashley finished.
Hanna was confused. She'd heard the word before, but didn't know what it meant. Instead of asking, she pulled out her phone and looked it up on Google. Her eyes widened when she realized her mother was calling her a no-good thief.
"Is that what you think of me? That I'm nothing but a thief?" She scowled.
Ashley's response was a mixture of frustration and love. "That's not what I'm saying, but it's clear that you're getting too comfortable stealing. You steal from stores, and from your peers. I think it's time you talked to somebody."
"I'm not talking to anyone, including you," Hanna declared, her voice a storm of emotion as she turned on her heel and walked away.
"Hanna, come back!" Ashley pleaded, but Hanna was already gone, the door slamming behind her.
...
Hanna was angry as she entered the school. Her morning had gone so well, and she thought nothing could ruin her day—except maybe A or something—but her mother had proved her wrong.
Ashley's suggestion that she needed to talk to a professional was infuriating. Hanna wasn't a kleptomaniac—she didn't even like to steal, honestly. It just happened in the blink of an eye. If she saw something she liked, she took it. Not because she enjoyed it, but because of her daddy issues. Her mother knew that, so for her to think there was something wrong with Hanna felt like a betrayal.
Her mood soured even more as she walked through the halls. She was lost in thought, replaying the argument with her mother, when she saw the principal coming her way. Worse, he was accompanied by the girl she'd stolen the lip gloss from, who looked even angrier than him.
Did they find out...?
Hanna forced herself to remain calm. She put on her best innocent face, but she knew it wouldn't be enough.
"Hanna, we need to talk."
"Is there a problem, sir?"
"You're the problem, you broke bitch!" the girl yelled.
"Language, Brooke." The principal focused on Hanna. "Now, Hanna, Brooke says you took something from her. Is that true?"
Hanna's eyes darted to Brooke, then back to him. "I don't know what she's talking about."
Brooke's accusation was a burning arrow aimed directly at Hanna's composure. "You stole my lip gloss. My friend saw you put it in your pocket."
"Your friend is lying to you."
The principal sighed. "Hanna, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Do you have the lip gloss or not?"
"No!"
"Prove it! Empty your bag!" Brooke demanded, her arms crossed in expectation.
"I don't have to do anything you say."
"You do," the principal said. "If there's nothing in there, then there's nothing to worry about, right?"
"Right."
They looked at her, waiting for her to prove her innocence. She slowly opened her bag, hoping against hope that a miracle would happen and the lip gloss would magically disappear.
"Empty everything out on the floor," he instructed.
Hanna pulled out her belongings one by one. Her notebooks, textbooks, and pencil case tumbled to the floor, followed by her makeup bag and a few stray pens and pencils. She stopped and Brooke's eyes stayed on her. "All of it, Hanna."
Hanna reached deeper into her bag, knowing what was coming next. She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, then her wallet, and finally, her hand brushed against the lip gloss. She pulled it out. The cylinder seemed to echo loudly as it hit the floor and rolled a few inches away from her other belongings.
Brooke stepped forward and grabbed the lip gloss. "I knew it," she declared, her eyes narrowing in contempt. "You're a thief."
"Whatever. Take your stupid lip gloss and go," Hanna spat, the fight draining out of her.
"It wasn't stupid when you stole it. So I'll be keeping an eye on you."
"As will I," the principal agreed. "I'm disappointed in you, Hanna."
"I'm sorry, okay? Just please don't punish me."
"We'll talk about it in my office. Let's go."
Hanna did a walk of shame as she followed him to his office. Students stared at her as she passed, speculating once again about what the principal wanted with her. She kept her head down, unable to meet anyone's eyes, shame burning her cheeks.
When they reached the office, he gestured for her to wait outside. "I'll call you in shortly."
Hanna took a seat on the bench in front of the office. She noticed a boy was already there. He had straight brown hair that reached down to his chin, framing his face in a way that gave him a brooding, almost mysterious look. His dark clothing and the intensity of his resting bitch face made Hanna sense he was trouble.
The boy's voice was mocking, not bothering to meet her gaze. "I heard if you take a picture, it lasts longer."
Hanna scoffed. "Get over yourself."
A silence fell between them, heavy and awkward, until he finally looked at her. "How'd you end up here?"
Hanna didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a conversation, but she relented. "I've been naughty."
"Santa won't like that."
She snorted. "I wish he was real. He'd probably be more forgiving than the principal." Hanna met the boy's eyes. "What about you?"
"I'm the new guy, so."
"Where are you from?"
"That's none of your business," he shot back, a wall forming between them.
"So you can ask me questions, but I can't ask you?"
"Pretty much."
Hanna shook her head, already tired of his attitude. Fortunately, the principal's call saved her from further annoyance. She entered the office, the grave look on his face setting the stage for a serious conversation.
"I'm not going to lie, Hanna. I should suspend you."
Hanna's heart sank, fear gripping her. "Please don't. I don't need this on my record."
He leaned forward, his expression softening as he offered an alternative. "Then you must do me a favor. Two words: Caleb Rivers," he said, watching her confusion. "He's the boy you were talking to outside. He's a new transfer student, and I'd appreciate it if you'd show him around and make him feel welcome."
Hanna's mood lifted. It was a task she felt confident she could handle. "Consider it done! I'm the best guide."
"Prove it, and I'll forgive your misdeeds."
Hanna's departure was swift, her determination evident in the snap of her fingers. "Let's go, new guy."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," he said, challenging her authority.
Hanna stopped and turned to face him with a look that could cut through steel. "Do you want your time here to be fun or hell?"
He weighed his options, the gears in his head turning. "Fun."
"Then get your butt up and let's go."
Caleb gathered his things. "Where are we going?" he asked, following her lead.
"I need to show you around. Lucky for you, I'm one of the most popular girls at this school. I'll introduce you to my friends."
"Okay..."
Hanna led him through the crowded hallways to where her group of friends usually hung out. As they approached, she could see Mona, Sean, and Noel chatting animatedly near the lockers. Caleb's pace slowed, his reluctance evident in the way he hung back. Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm and gave him a gentle but firm tug to propel him forward.
"Come on," she urged. "They don't bite."
Caleb looked unconvinced, but let himself be led. When they reached the group, Hanna cleared her throat to get their attention. Mona, Noel, and Sean turned to look at her, curiosity in their eyes.
"Guys, this is Caleb," Hanna announced in a bright voice. "He's a new transfer student."
Caleb's eyes darted between the faces in front of him. Hanna pointed at each of them in turn. "Caleb, this is my best friend Mona," she said, pointing to her. Mona waved, her eyes flickering with interest.
"This is Noel," she said, pointing to Noel, who acknowledged Caleb with a nod. "And this is my boyfriend, Sean," she finished, her voice tinged with pride.
"Boyfriend, huh?" Caleb mused.
"That's right," Sean said, stepping into the space between them. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too."
Hanna beamed, relieved the introduction had gone smoothly. She was determined to help Caleb feel at home here, and her friends' acceptance of him was an important first step.
Mona questioned him. "So tell us, Caleb, what's special about you?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, everyone has a story."
Caleb's consideration was brief. "Well, I guess mine would be that I have a shitty home life."
"I can't relate to that, but things will get better for you, man," Sean said, his assurance genuine.
Noel's companionship was an open door. "Yeah, you got us."
"So we're friends?"
"Why not? You seem cool enough. And you know what? To welcome our newcomers, I'm having a party tonight. You should come."
"Oh, I don't really do part-" he started, but Hanna spoke over him.
"He'll be there," she announced.
"Cool. See you later," Noel said. His slap on Caleb's back sealed their pact.
As the group dispersed, leaving Hanna and Caleb alone, his frustration found voice. "What the hell was that?"
"Lesson one: if you want to fit in, don't say no to Noel Kahn. Especially if he thinks you're cool enough to hang around," Hanna instructed, her words a map for navigating the social waters of Rosewood High.
"You're giving me lessons now?"
"Yes. You clearly need them," she said, her last word punctuated by a flip of her hair as she strutted away, leaving Caleb to ponder the complexities of his new world.
Although Maya stayed at Emily's, they didn't go to school together. Their earlier argument had left Maya too frustrated with Emily for holding on to Alison.
That fight had confirmed Emily's suspicion that Maya had feelings for her. There was no way Maya would be so upset about her not wanting to sleep next to her if she didn't care deeply for her. But despite the signs, Emily still didn't have the courage to ask her outright. It'd be too weird, and this was a bad time to do it anyway. Maya needed to cool down before Emily could even think about broaching such a serious subject. The space would also give her time to figure out how she'd respond.
Emily waited outside her house for Ben to drive her. He was another reason Maya had decided to go alone. She didn't like Ben, and she couldn't handle being in the same car as him. It was for the best: Ben would surely find a way to compare her to Alison again, a comparison Emily still had to scold him about.
And then there was A. A had hinted that something was going to happen to Maya. Emily didn't know if it was an empty threat, but she couldn't take any chances. That was why it was so bad that Maya was going to school alone. Would she even make it there? What if A had already caught her?
She wanted to text Maya to check if she was okay, but she had a feeling Maya would ignore her. All she could do was wait until she got to school to see.
She tapped her foot, wishing Ben would hurry up. Finally, his car pulled up and she got in. "Hey, Em," he greeted, but Emily's face remained a still pond, unable to ripple into a smile. "Where's Maya?"
"She'd rather not be in the same car as you."
"What's got her panties in a bunch?"
Emily's head snapped towards him. "You, Ben. You compared her to Alison."
"So? She's feisty like her."
"Ali didn't invent feistiness, okay? And you can't talk about her because you didn't know her. She was really sweet when she wanted to be."
Ben snorted. "Said no one ever."
Emily replied with quiet irritation, her eyes rolling. "Just drive, Ben," she said, her desire to end the conversation as obvious as the road ahead of them.
Ben obeyed and drove to school. Any attempt he made to get her to talk was met with cold indifference. Emily stared out the window, honestly tired of hearing his voice. It gave her a headache. His presence in general made her sick, a stark contrast to how she once felt about him. And if she didn't like being around her boyfriend anymore, then Maya was right—it was time to leave.
When they parked in front of the school, Emily tried to rush out of the car. Ben reached out and grabbed her arm. "Not so fast," he said, his voice firm. "I deserve a kiss."
"Deserve?"
"I waste gas on you every morning. The least you can do is show some appreciation."
"Waste?" she retorted. "Wow. Sorry to be such a nuisance."
"That's not what I mean, but I'm tired of feeling alone. It feels like we're friends, not partners."
"We should be," she said, her decision clear.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I deserve better than this."
"And I don't?"
"Well, if you feel that way, that gives us all the more reason to end this. So we're done." She made her exit with a quick push of the door, stepping out of the car and into her freedom. Ben's protests followed, his voice a desperate cry as he told her to come back.
"Leave me alone, Ben!" she insisted.
He chased after her. "No! We're not ending this."
"Yes we are!" she affirmed, turning to face him with fierce determination. "The truth is, I don't like you."
Ben's confusion clouded his face. "But you wanted to go out with me."
"Of course I did. So I could be prepared for the real thing."
As she walked away again, Ben blocked her path. "You don't mean that. You're just mad, babe. Or maybe it's that Maya girl. You've been different since she showed up, so you need to stay away from her."
"I'm staying away from you."
"Emily!" Ben yelled, grabbing her arm.
"Ben, get off of me!" she demanded, struggling against his grip.
"Just listen to me!"
"She said get off her," a boy said. His voice was rough and eerily familiar. Emily looked, fear pooling in her stomach. Sure enough, it was Toby Cavanaugh. The same Toby that Alison claimed had been watching them through the window on the night of the Jenna thing. And the same Toby who'd disappeared since then, taking the blame for the incident for whatever reason and being sent to reform school. But now he was back, and Emily couldn't believe her worst nightmares were coming true all at once.
She stared at Toby in horror, as did the rest of the onlookers, but he was completely focused on Ben, glaring at him.
"What's your problem?" Ben spat, still clutching Emily's arm.
Toby came closer, his presence threatening. "Let. Her. Go."
Ben released his grip. Then he jabbed a finger in Toby's direction, recognition flashing in his eyes. "Wait a minute. Aren't you the weirdo who got sent away for hurting your sister?"
"Step-sister. And this isn't about me. It's about you bothering Emily."
"Why do you care?" Ben fired back before a sudden realization hit him. "Oh, I get it. That's why you're leaving me. For him."
Emily's eyes widened. "What? Ben, don't be ridiculous."
"No, you're ridiculous, Em. I thought you were a good girl, but you're nothing but a cheating bitch."
The students around them gasped. Emily's jaw dropped at his blatant disrespect. He'd been angry with her many times before, but never had he called her out of her name.
Ben turned to address the crowd, his voice dripping with venom. "Yeah, that's right! Emily's been screwing Cavanaugh for god knows how long!" Then he looked at Emily. "That's why you never wanted to have sex with me. Because you got some from him."
Emily's jaw clenched as she fought to keep her composure. "You're way out of line."
"Whatever, slut. Lose my number," Ben spat, pushing past her as he headed for the school entrance. Emily recoiled at his words, and it snapped something inside Toby. His eyes darkened, and he grabbed Ben's shoulder and yanked him back with a force that made him stumble.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Toby growled.
"Get off me, you freak!" Ben yelled, but he didn't have time to do more than that. Toby's fist connected with his jaw with a sickening thud, sending him sprawling to the ground. Ben laid on the pavement, clutching his jaw in shock, but Toby wasn't done. His anger was like a dam that had burst, and he pounced on Ben, raining punches down on him. Each blow was a testament to his strength and the darkness he'd carried.
"Toby, stop!" Emily screamed, her voice breaking the stunned silence of the onlookers. She rushed forward, trying to pull him away from Ben, but he was too strong, too consumed by his rage.
Her heart pounded as she realized how out of control the situation had become. Toby's actions only reinforced the monstrous image everyone had of him, and it made her look bad too. It looked like he was fighting over her, confirming Ben's accusations that there was something going on between them when there wasn't.
A couple of boys finally decided to step in. They pulled Toby away from Ben, who tried to defend himself, but was no match for Toby. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth as he struggled to stand, his face swollen from the blows he'd taken.
"This isn't over," Ben croaked. "You're dead, Cavanaugh."
The boys forced Ben into the school building. Emily watched as he stumbled away, still seething with anger, but clearly shaken. She spun towards Toby. "Why did you do this?!"
"You could at least say thank you."
"I didn't ask you to save me."
"Well, I did, because I'm a nice guy."
"You and nice should never be in the same sentence," she snapped. "You just embarrassed me, and now you want me to thank you? Okay, thank you for ruining my life!"
Toby opened his mouth, but she dashed away from him like he was the devil himself. Unfortunately, Ben's allegation had already gotten around, and the students were gossiping about her "sexual relationship" with Toby. It was so horrible that she had to hide one side of her face, as if it'd make her invisible. It didn't, and Emily huffed as she entered the school, knowing this was one more reason for Maya to be angry with her.
Authors note: Thanks to everyone reading. Suggestions about things you want to see are always welcome.