Authors: Sara Shepard
She stomped down the bleachers, ducking around someone’s mother who was carrying a precarious tray of Cokes and popcorn. She looked for someone—
anyone
—who might be looking back. But nothing. Not a single person was giggling or whispering. Everyone was just watching the Rosewood Day soccer boys advance toward Lansing’s goal.
But A had to be here. A had to be watching.
22
YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH
Friday evening, Aria shut off the radio in her bedroom. For the past hour, the local DJ had gone on and on about Foxy. He made it sound as if Foxy were a shuttle launch or a presidential inauguration, not just some silly benefit.
She listened to the sounds of her parents walking around the kitchen. There wasn’t the usual cacophony of noise—NPR on the radio, CNN or PBS on the kitchen TV, or a classical or experimental jazz CD playing on the kitchen stereo. All Aria heard were pots and pans clanging. Then a crash. “Sorry,” Ella said curtly. “It’s fine,” Byron answered.
Aria turned back to her laptop, feeling more and more crazed by the second. Since her Meredith-stalk had been cut short, she was now researching her online. Once you started Web-stalking someone, it was hard to stop. Aria had Meredith’s last name—Stevens—from a Strawberry Ridge Yoga schedule she found online, so she searched Google for Meredith’s phone number. She thought maybe she’d try to call to tell her, kindly, to stay away from Byron. But then she found her address and wanted to see how far away Meredith lived, so she mapped it on MapQuest. From there, it got nuts. She looked at a hypertext paper Meredith had done in her freshman year of college on William Carlos Williams. She hacked into Hollis’s student portal to see Meredith’s grades. Meredith was on Friendster, Facebook,
and
MySpace. Her favorite movies were
Donnie Darko
;
Paris, Texas
; and
The Princess Bride
, and her interests were quirky things like snow globes, tai chi, and magnets.
In a parallel universe, Aria and Meredith could have been
friends
. It made it even harder to do what A asked in Aria’s last text message:
make it go away
.
It felt like A’s threat was burning a hole in her Treo, and whenever she thought about seeing not only Meredith but
Spencer
in the yoga studio that morning, she felt uneasy. What was Spencer doing there? Did Spencer know something?
Back in seventh grade, Aria had told Ali about seeing Toby at her drama workshop while she, Ali, and Spencer were hanging out at Spencer’s pool. “He doesn’t know anything, Aria,” Ali had answered, calmly applying more sunscreen. “Chill out.”
“But how can you be sure?” Aria had protested. “What about that person I saw outside the tree house that night? Maybe they told Toby! Maybe it
was
Toby!”
Spencer frowned, then glanced at Alison. “Ali, maybe you should just—”
Ali cleared her throat loudly. “Spence,” she said, sort of as a warning.
Aria looked back and forth at them, confused. Then she blurted out the question she’d wanted to ask for a while: “What were you guys whispering about the night of her accident? When I woke up and you were in the bathroom?”
Ali cocked her head. “We weren’t whispering.”
“Ali, we
were
,” Spencer hissed.
Ali gave her another sharp look, then turned back to Aria. “Look, we weren’t talking about Toby. Besides”—she gave Aria a little smile—“don’t you have bigger things to worry about right now?”
Aria bristled. Just days before, Aria and Ali had caught her father with Meredith.
Spencer tugged Ali’s arm. “Ali, I really think you should tell—”
Ali held up her hand. “Spence, I swear to God.”
“You swear to God
what
?” Spencer shrieked. “You think this is easy?”
After Aria saw Spencer at the yoga studio this morning, she’d considered tracking her down in school and talking to her. Spencer and Ali had covered something up, and maybe it was tangled in A. But…she felt afraid. She thought she’d known her old friends inside and out. But now that she knew they all had dark secrets they didn’t want to share…maybe she’d never really known them at all.
Aria’s cell phone rang, breaking her out of the memory. Startled, she dropped it into a pile of dirty T-shirts she’d been meaning to wash. She grabbed it.
“Hey,” said a boy’s voice on the other end. “It’s Sean.”
“Oh!” Aria exclaimed. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Just got back from a soccer game. What are you doing tonight?”
Aria wiggled with glee. “Um…nothing, really.”
“Wanna hang out?”
She heard another clatter downstairs. Then her father’s voice. “I’m going.” The front door slammed. He wasn’t even going to have dinner with them.
Again.
She put her mouth back to the phone. “How about right now?”
Sean parked his Audi in a desolate lot and led Aria up an embankment. To their left was a chain-link fence, to their right a sloping path. Above them were the elevated train tracks, and below them was all of Rosewood. “My brother and I found this place years ago,” Sean explained.
He spread his cashmere sweater on the grass and gestured for her to sit. Then he pulled a chrome thermos out of his backpack and handed it to her. “Want some?” Aria could smell the Captain Morgan through the little space in the lid.
She took a greedy swig, then looked at him crookedly. His face was so chiseled and his clothes fit so perfectly, but he didn’t have the same
I’m hot and I know it
air about him that other typical Rosewood boys did. “You come here a lot?” she asked.
Sean shrugged and sat down next to her. “Not a lot. But sometimes.”
Aria had assumed Sean and his typical Rosewood boy crowd drove around partying all night, or sneaked their parents’ beer at someone’s empty house while playing Grand Theft Auto on PlayStation. And there would be a soak in a hot tub to cap off the night, of course. Pretty much everyone in Rosewood had a hot tub in their backyard.
The town lights twinkled below. Aria could see Hollis’s spire, which was lit up in ivory at night. “This is amazing,” she sighed. “I can’t believe I’ve never found this place.”
“Well, we used to live not far from here.” Sean smiled. “My brother and I rode all over these woods on our dirt bikes. We also used to come here and play Blair Witch.”
“Blair Witch?” Aria repeated.
He nodded. “After the movie came out, we were obsessed with making our own ghost movies.”
“I did that too!” Aria cried, so excited she laid her hand on Sean’s arm. She quickly pulled it away. “Except I did mine in my backyard.”
“You still have the videos?” Sean asked.
“Yep. You?”
“Uh-huh.” Sean paused. “Maybe you could come see them some time.”
“I’d like that.” She smiled. Sean was starting to remind her of the
croque-monsieur
she once ordered in Nice. At first glance, it looked like a plain, cookie-cutter grilled cheese, nothing special. But when she bit into it, the cheese was Brie and there were chopped-up portabello mushrooms hidden underneath. There was a lot more to it than it had appeared.
Sean leaned back on his elbows. “One time, my brother and I came here and caught this couple having sex.”
“Really?” Aria giggled.
Sean took the mug from her. “Yeah. And they were so into it, they didn’t see us at first. I backed up really slowly but then tripped over some rocks. They totally freaked.”
“I’m sure.” She shivered. “God, that would be awful.”
Sean poked her in the arm. “What, you’ve never done it in public?”
Aria looked away. “Nah.”
They were quiet for a moment. Aria wasn’t sure how she felt. Uneasy, sort of. But also…a little buzzy. It felt like something was going to happen. “So, um, remember that secret you told me, in your car?” she asked. “The one about not wanting to be a virgin?”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you…why do you think you feel that way?”
Sean leaned back on his elbows. “I started going to V Club because everybody was rushing to have sex, and I wanted to see why the people at V Club decided not to.”
“And?”
“Well, I think they’re mostly scared. But also, I think they want to find the right person. Like, someone they can be completely honest and themselves with.”
He paused. Aria hugged her knees to her chest. She wished—just a little—that Sean would say,
And Aria, I think you’re the right person.
She sighed. “I had sex, once.”
Sean put the mug in the grass and looked at her.
“In Iceland, a year after I moved there,” she admitted. It felt strange to say it out loud. “It was this boy I liked. Oskar. He wanted to, and so did I, but…I don’t know.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “I didn’t love him or anything.” She paused. “You’re the first person I ever told.”
They were quiet for a while. Aria felt her heart thumping against her chest. Someone far below was grilling; she could smell the charcoal and the burgers. She heard Sean swallow and shift his weight, moving a little closer. She moved a little closer, too, feeling nervous.
“Go to Foxy with me,” Sean blurted out.
Aria cocked her head. “F-Foxy?”
“The benefit thing? You dress up? Dance?”
She blinked. “I know what Foxy is.”
“Unless you’re going with someone else. And we could go as friends, of course.”
Aria felt a tiny twinge of disappointment when he used the word
friends
. A second ago, she’d thought they were going to kiss. “You haven’t asked anyone already?”
“No. That’s why I asked you.”
Aria sneaked a peek at Sean. Her eyes kept gravitating toward the little cleft in his chin. Ali used to call them “butt chins,” but it was actually pretty cute. “Um, yeah, okay.”
“Cool.” Sean grinned. Aria grinned back. Except…something made her wilt.
I’m giving you till the stroke of midnight Saturday night, Cinderella. Or else.
Saturday was tomorrow.
Sean noticed her expression. “What is it?”
Aria swallowed. Her whole mouth tasted like rum. “I met the woman my dad’s fooling around with yesterday. Sort of by accident.” She took a deep breath. “Or not by accident at all. I wanted to ask her what was going on, but I couldn’t. I’m just afraid my mom’s going to…to catch them together.” Tears came to her eyes. “I don’t want my family to fall apart.”
Sean held her for a while. “Couldn’t you try talking to the girl again?”
“I don’t know.” She stared at her hands. They were shaking. “I mean, I have this whole speech for her figured out in my head. I just want her to know my side.” She arched her back and looked up at the sky, as if the universe might give her the answer. “But maybe it’s a stupid idea.”
“It’s not. I’ll go with you. For moral support.”
She looked up. “You…you
would
?”
Sean glanced out over the trees. “Right now, if you want.”
Aria quickly shook her head. “I couldn’t right now. I left my, um, script at home.”
Sean shrugged. “Do you remember what you want to say?”
“I guess,” Aria said faintly. She looked out over the trees. “It’s not far, actually…. She lives right over this hill. In Old Hollis.” She knew this from stalking Meredith on Google Earth.
“C’mon.” Sean extended his hand. Before she could think too much about it, they were scampering down the grassy hill, past Sean’s car.
They crossed the street into Old Hollis, the student neighborhood that was full of crumbling, spooky Victorian houses. Old VWs, Volvos, and Saabs lined the curbs. For a Friday night, the neighborhood was absolutely empty. Perhaps there was some big event in Hollis elsewhere. Aria wondered if Meredith would even be home; she sort of hoped that she wouldn’t be.
Halfway down the second block, Aria stopped at a pink house that had four pairs of running shoes airing out on the porch and a chalk drawing of what looked like a penis on the driveway. It was only fitting that Meredith lived here. “I think this is it.”
“You want me to wait here?” Sean whispered.
Aria pulled her sweater around her. It was suddenly freezing. “I guess.” Then she grabbed Sean’s arm. “I can’t do this.”
“Sure you can.” Sean put his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll be right here, okay? Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise.”
Aria felt a rush of gratitude. He was so…sweet. She leaned forward and gently kissed Sean on the lips; as she pulled away, he looked stunned. “Thank you,” she said.
She walked up Meredith’s cracked front steps slowly, the rum coursing through her veins. She’d drunk three-quarters of Sean’s thermos, while he’d only taken a few gentlemanly sips. As she rang the bell, she steadied herself against one of the porch’s columns for balance. Tonight was not the night to be wearing her wobbly sling-backs from Italy.
Meredith flung open the door. She wore terry-cloth short-shorts and a white T-shirt with a drawing of a banana on it—it was the cover to some old album, Aria just couldn’t remember what. And she seemed bigger tonight. Less lithe and more muscular, like the ass-kicking chicks on that show,
Rollergirls
. Aria felt puny.
Meredith’s eyes brightened with recognition. “Alison, right?”
“Actually, it’s Aria. Aria Montgomery. I’m Byron Montgomery’s daughter. I know everything that’s going on. I want it to stop.”
Meredith’s eyes widened. She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly through her nose. Aria almost thought dragonlike steam was going to come out. “You do, huh?”
“That’s right,” Aria wavered, realizing she was slurring her speech.
Thassright.
And her heart was beating so loud, she wouldn’t have been surprised if her skin was pulsating.
Meredith raised an eyebrow. “It’s none of your business.” She stuck her head out on the porch and looked around suspiciously. “How did you find out where I lived?”
“Look, you’re destroying everything,” Aria protested. “And I just want it to stop. Okay? I mean…this is hurting everyone. He’s still married…and he has a family.”
Aria winced to herself at the pathetic edge to her voice and how her perfectly crafted speech had slipped from her grasp.