Disco lights spiraled above Hanna’s head. She burped, tasting champagne. Her body felt hot, then cold. What they were saying couldn’t be true.
Naomi and Riley remained rigidly still, waiting for Hanna’s response. Finally, Hanna shrugged. “Whatever,” she said airily. “We both know you did something terrible, even if you won’t admit it.”
Hanna flipped her hair over her shoulder and swiveled around. “It’s your funeral!” Naomi called out as she walked away. Not that Hanna listened.
23
HURTS SO GOOD
The enormous Valentine’s Day dance tent was overflowing with people by the time Emily arrived. Heat lamps were set up along the walls, making the room feel cozy but not stuffy, and a DJ in a red velvet jacket bopped on the stage, mixing a Fergie song into something by Lil Wayne. Mason Byers was swinging Lanie Iler around, Big Band–era style. Nicole Hudson and Kelly Hamilton, Naomi and Riley’s on-and-off sophomore toadies, were glaring at each other, annoyed because they’d both worn the same ruffled red gown. A couple of sheets of paper lay on the floor, big shoe marks over them. Emily picked one up. It seemed like a love letter to Sean Ackard. It was signed Kate Randall.
Emily straightened the pale pink dress Ali suggested Emily buy from BCBG. She’d gone all out for tonight, blow-drying her hair so that it was sleek and straight, borrowing Carolyn’s foundation, blush, and bronzer to make her skin look glowing and sparkly. She’d forced her flat, flipper-like swimmer’s feet into a pair of red Mary Janes she’d worn only once to a sports banquet. Emily wanted Ali to be dazzled by the sight of her.
A knot of kids gyrated on the dance floor. Andrew Campbell spun Spencer around, their hands entwined. Hanna had her arms in the air and was doing a slinky, sexy dance Emily could never pull off. The girl next to her was dressed in a gorgeous, lacy red gown, her hair piled seductively on her head. Ali. Then she noticed James Freed standing behind Ali, snaking his hands along her hips, up her waist, and dangerously close to her boobs.
It took Emily a couple of seconds to realize what was happening. Her heart lurched. But by the time she’d marched over to the circle, James had peeled off and started dancing on his own, doing a faux Justin Timberlake move that involved spinning on one heel.
“Hey,” Emily said in Ali’s ear.
Ali opened her eyes. “Hey, Em!” She kept dancing.
Emily paused, waiting. Surely Ali would do a double take. Certainly she’d blurt out, Oh my God, you look incredible! But now Ali was whispering something to Hanna. Hanna threw her auburn head back and cackled.
“For all you Valentines out there,” crooned the DJ as a slow, bluesy John Mayer song came on. Spencer hugged Andrew’s waist. Hanna danced with Mason Byers. Emily stared meaningfully at Ali’s back, but Ali still didn’t turn around. She fell into James’s arms as if they’d been a couple for years. They began rocking back and forth to the music.
A couple bumped into Emily from behind. She staggered to the side of the dance floor. Ali had said she…the other day at her house…I meant what I said about how I feel about you. A cold sweat crept down Emily’s neck. Did Ali mean it…or didn’t she?
Couples were disappearing into a smaller tent that said TUNNEL OF LUV toward the back. Rosewood Day had trotted out the creaky ride since Emily was in fifth grade, renting it from a local carnival supply company. The ride had about ten plastic swans, big enough for two people. The swans were so old that their yellow beaks were now a jaundiced tan, and much of the paint on their white bodies had flaked off entirely.
The slow song droned on for another agonizing three minutes. When it ended, Ali and James broke apart, laughing softly. Emily leaped into their path and caught Ali’s arm. “I need to talk to you.”
Ali smiled. The disco light reflected off her shimmery eye shadow. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Alone.”
Emily dragged her through the exit that led into the school and turned left to the girls’ room. All the stall doors were flung open, and the room smelled like a phantom mix of various perfumes and makeup. Ali leaned over the sink, inspecting her mascara.
“Why are you being like this?” Emily blurted before she’d fully planned what she was going to say.
Ali cocked her head, meeting Emily’s eyes in the mirror. “Like what?”
“You’re ignoring me.”
“No, I’m not!”
Emily slapped her sides. “Ali, yes, you are.”
The corners of Ali’s mouth turned down. She put a finger to her lips. “Call me Courtney, remember?”
“Fine. Courtney.”
Emily whirled around and faced the automatic hand dryer, staring at her warped reflection in the metal. It was like they’d taken ten steps backward. Emily’s limbs started to quake. Her stomach churned. Her skin felt like it was under a hot broiler.
She turned around to face Ali again. “You know, friends don’t jerk friends around. Friends don’t give each other mixed messages. And…and I don’t think I can handle being friends if things are going to be the same as they were before.”
Ali looked shocked. “I don’t want things to be the same. I want them to be better.”
“They aren’t better!” Wet, sweaty patches bloomed under the arms of Emily’s brand-new pink dress. “They’re worse!”
Ali sunk into one hip. A defeated look crossed her face. “Nothing is good enough for you, Em,” she said wearily, her shoulders sinking.
“Ali,” Emily whispered. “I’m sorry.” She reached out and touched Ali’s arm, but Ali bristled and shook her off.
But then Ali turned back, her arms hanging limply at her sides. Ever so slowly, Ali took a step toward Emily. Her lips quivered. The corners of her eyes were wet. They stared at each other for a static-filled moment, Emily barely breathing. And then, Ali yanked Emily into an empty stall and pressed their bodies close. They kissed and kissed, the world melting away, the music from the dance subsiding until it was a dull echo. After a moment, they pulled back, breathless. Emily stared at Ali’s shiny eyes.
“What was that for?” she asked.
Ali reached out and touched the tip of Emily’s nose. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered.
24
MISSING PERSONS
About an hour later, as the dance was drawing to a close, Andrew and Spencer climbed into a bobbing ivory swan and set off into the Tunnel of Luv. The water beneath them smelled like lavender. Fairy lights were strewn around the entrance of the tunnel. As they floated into darkness, soft harp music nearly drowned out the techno song on the dance floor.
“I can’t believe this ride still works.” Spencer rested her head on Andrew’s shoulder.
Andrew laced his fingers through hers. “I wouldn’t complain if it broke down and stranded us here for a couple hours.”
“Oh yeah?” Spencer teased, punching him playfully on the arm.
“Yeah.” Andrew’s lips found hers, and she kissed him back. A warm feeling of well-being slowly pulsed through Spencer’s veins. Finally, everything in her life was right—she had a great boyfriend, a fantastic sister, and her best friends back. It almost didn’t feel real.
The ride ended way too quickly, and Andrew helped Spencer out of the swan. She checked her watch. Ali wanted them to meet at her car in five minutes. She leaned in to kiss Andrew good-bye. “See you to morrow,” she whispered. She was dying to tell him the truth about Ali, but she’d promised to keep her mouth shut.
“Have fun,” Andrew said, kissing her softly.
Spencer turned and started for the door, then teetered to where Ali’s BMW was parked. She was the first one there, so she leaned against the trunk and waited. It was freezing out and her eyes started to tear. Emily skipped up next. Her hair was mussed, her makeup was smudged, but she looked overjoyed. “Hey,” she chirped. “Where’s Ali?”
“Not here yet,” Spencer answered. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping Ali would show up soon. Her feet were quickly turning to ice.
Hanna arrived next. A few minutes passed. Spencer pulled out her cell phone and checked the time: 9:40. Ali had instructed that they meet her at 9:30, sharp.
“I’ll text her,” Emily said, typing into her phone.
A moment later, Spencer’s phone bleated loudly, making everyone jump. She lunged for it, but it was her home phone number.
“Have you seen Melissa?” Mrs. Hastings asked when she picked up the line. “I haven’t seen her all day. I’ve tried her cell phone a few times, too, but it’s gone straight to voice mail. That never happens.”
Spencer gazed toward the tent. Kids were streaming into the parking lot, but Ali wasn’t among them.
“You haven’t gotten any calls from a hospital?” Spencer said into the phone. If someone had checked herself into the Preserve, the staff would have to notify family so they wouldn’t worry, right?
“A hospital?” Mrs. Hastings’s voice peaked sharply. “Why? Is she hurt?”
Spencer squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know.”
Mrs. Hastings told Spencer to call her immediately if she heard from Melissa, then abruptly hung up. Spencer could feel her old friends’ eyes on her. “Who was that?” Emily asked quietly.
Spencer didn’t answer. The You’re dead, bitch photo floated into her mind once more. The last time she’d seen Melissa was when her sister had driven her to school and warned her to be careful with Courtney. After that, Melissa had been oddly absent. Was she at the Preserve…or was she somewhere else? What if she was here—watching Ali right now?
“Is everything okay?” Hanna asked.
There was a golf ball–size lump in Spencer’s throat. She gazed toward the tent again, desperately hoping to see Ali’s blond head among the crowds of kids.
“Everything’s fine,” she murmured, her heart beating faster and faster. There was no use getting everyone freaked out quite yet. Come on, Ali, she thought frantically. Where are you?
25
TRUE COLORS SHINING THROUGH
After waiting about fifteen minutes in a long girls’ bathroom line, Aria emerged on the dance floor and gazed around the room for Noel. He’d been a gentleman all night, dancing every dance with her, getting her glasses of pink punch whenever she was thirsty, already talking about how they were going to go all out for prom—maybe they could even arrive by his dad’s helicopter. Everything just felt…right.
She pushed her way toward the bar, figuring Noel might be there. Kids swirled around her, their dresses swishing. With so much red, pink, and white, Aria felt like she was inside a giant circulatory system. A few kids stared as she passed, smirks on their faces. A knot of sophomore girls nudged one another and whispered. Mason Byers caught sight of Aria, widened his eyes, and turned away. Aria’s heart began to thump. What the hell was going on?
And suddenly, as if on cue, the crowd parted. In the corner of the tent, right next to the chocolate dipping station, a couple stood kissing. One of them had slicked-back dark hair and wore a gorgeous black suit. The other was sylph-thin, with honey blond hair done up in a French twist. Her fitted red cocktail dress skimmed her hips. The surface of her skin sparkled, as if it had been brushed with diamond dust.
