A few days later, the last bell of the day rang, and all the students in Ali's English class leapt to their feet and headed to the door. "Don't forget, people!" Mrs. Lowry, their English teacher, bellowed. "Your Hemingway parodies are due on Monday! I'm not taking any lates!"
"Have you started yours yet?" Spencer asked Ali as they walked through the door and into the hall, which was crowded with kids at their lockers.
"Nope," Ali answered, shaking her head. "Wanna do it for me?"
Spencer sniffed. "I have a huge history paper, Ali. Sorry."
Ali crossed her arms over her chest. Not long ago, Spencer would have done Ali's homework in a heartbeat without complaint. I saw you, you know, she wanted to say. I know what you did with Ian. Every day that passed without Spencer saying anything the betrayal seem worse and worse.
Ali's phone ran. She dove for it inside her bag. Unknown Caller. She was about to hit Ignore when Spencer cleared her throat beside her.
"I hate when I get calls from blocked numbers," she said. "Usually it's my mom checking up on me, but she doesn't want me to know it's her calling."
The phone rang again. Ali glanced at Spencer. "Can you block any number?"
"I think certain phones don't allow it." Spencer stopped at her locker and began to spin the dial. "Pay phones are usually good for it. Cell phones, too."
Ali nodded. She remembered seeing a bank of pay phones in the Preserve lobby—maybe her sister had somehow gotten to one of them without the nurses noticing. Or maybe she'd borrowed someone's cell phone.
Spencer gave Ali a suspicious look. "Why do you want to know how to block calls?"
Ali opened her mouth, then shut but again. Spencer sniffed. "Fine," she said sharply, facing her locker again. "Don't tell me."
Finally, the phone went to voicemail. Ali stared at the screen, waiting for the little message icon to appear, but it didn't. Suddenly, she felt like she had to get away from Spencer, and fast. She pushed through the crowd of kids to the double doors that opened out onto a small courtyard that connected the middle school to the high school. It was mostly high-schooler territory; junior high kids were ostracized if they sat on the courtyard's three benches or lingered there after school. Ali got a pass, though, especially if Cassie or any of the others were around, but she didn't see them anywhere. She did see, however, a petite slightly chubby girl standing in the corner of the courtyard, talking animatedly with her hands. She stood up straighter. Was that Hanna?
Josie stood next to Hanna, nodding sympathetically. Ali crept closer, ducking behind a potted tree so that Hanna didn't see her. When she was only a few feet away, she caught strains of Hanna's conversation over the din of the other students.
"...And she's, like, so manipulative," Hanna was saying. "There are some things she knows about me that I don't want anyone to know, and I'm so afraid she's going to tell someone if I screw up at all. It's driving me crazy. And she's acting even weirder than usual lately, keeping all these secrets, getting these weird phone calls—she probably hates me."
"You have to cut her loose before she ditches you," Josie answered.
Hanna pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. "But she's been my friend for two years now. We've been through a lot together."
Ali's eyes widened. Was Hanna talking about her?
"She might have been a good friend to you before, but she isn't a good friend now," Josie said firmly. "You're super cool, Hanna. You'll be fine."
Ali clapped her hand over her mouth. Was Josie high? Hanna wouldn't be fine without her—not at all.
She couldn't take it anymore. She stepped from behind the tree and rushed past Hanna as though she hadn't seen her. "Oh!" she said, feigning surprise just after reaching her. "Hi, Han! Hi...Josie, was it?"
Hanna paled. Josie's smile wavered. "H-hi," Hanna said, her eyes darting back and forth. "How long have you been out here, Ali?"
Ali put her hands on her hips and blinked.
Her silence seemed to unnerve Hanna even more. Hanna glanced at Josie. "I should go."
"Of course," Josie said. She raised a palm to Ali, then walked to her side of the school.
Ali whipped around and marched back into Rosewood Day, her shoulders tight, her jaw clenched. Hanna scrambled to catch up with her. "I hope you don't think I was talking about you, Ali," she said. "I was talking about Kate. I swear."
Ali approached her locker and pretended to concentrate on the combination. "Mm-hmm."
"Josie has a stepsister, too," Hanna said, her voice not particularly convincing. "She's sort of...been there, you know?"
Ali faced her, her eyes narrowed. "And you've been Kate's friend for two years? Since when?"
Hanna's mouth dropped open. No sound came out.
Ali wrenched her locker open and shoved a bunch of textbooks in her bag without paying attention to which subjects they were for. "You should be careful who you talk to, Hanna. You don't know Josie. She might not keep your secrets as well as I do."
Hanna nodded obediently. "O-okay."
Ali started for the parking lot, where she was to wait for Jason. "But she does seem really nice," she said after a moment. "You know what I'm thinking? Maybe I'll have a party. We should invite her."
Hanna twisted her mouth. "Really?"
"Uh-huh," Ali said.
"Th-that would be great," Hanna mumbled.
"Glad you think so," Ali answered. Since it was clear that Hanna wasn't getting the message that Josie wasn't necessary, maybe it was time to try a different tack: stealing Josie away. Proving to Hanna that everyone wanted Ali as a friend more than they wanted Hanna.
They were at the front walk by then, right next to the big, bubbling fountain. Hanna's mom pulled up to the curb, and Hanna waved goodbye as she climbed in. Ali continued toward the flagpole, passing girls carrying economy-size boxes of Toblerone chocolates to sell for a French field, and a group of boys bounding toward one of the back buses. She scanned the parking lot for Jason all the while, but she didn't see him. She took a left and walked to the main drag of shops right down the road. Pinkberry's happy sign seemed garish and annoying. The Italian flapping in front of Ferra's Cheesesteaks made her dizzy. She needed to get a grip.
But then something materialized in front of her eyes. A gold Mercedes was parked at the end of the block. The engine wasn't running, but a person sat in the driver's seat. Ali would recognize that shiny blond hair anywhere. It was her mother.
She crept closer. Her mother held a cell phone to her ear, and there was something about her posture and ducked head that made Ali want to listen. The window was open, and once Ali was only a few cars away, and she could hear some of her words. We just need a little more cash, honey. Just to pay the rest of her hospital bills. Then she shifted. I know, I know. But she's your daughter, too.
Ali shifted. Why would her mom be begging her father for cash?
Mrs. DiLaurentis made a kissing sound into the phone, then hung up. A split second later, the phone rang again. "Oh, hello, Kenneth," Ali's mom said with a sigh. Kenneth was Ali's father's name. Her mom's tone of voice was totally different from the one on the last call. Bored. Exasperated. Over it.
Ali's heart picked up speed. She ducked into Wordsmith's Books before her mother couldn't spot her. Even though she had no proof, she knew that her mother had just now been talking to two different people—two different men. She'd asked the first one for money, presumably for Ali's sister's hospital bills. But then she'd said, She's your daughter, too. Which made no sense.
Unless...
The room suddenly started to spin. Ali listed backward nearly crashing into a wire rack full of novelty greeting cards. Unless the first man her mother was talking to on the phone was her twin's real father.
Which made him her real father, too.