“Seriously.” Emily was breathing heavily, which she always did when she got worked up. “That’s, like, harassment! They should hire someone else! Do you want me to tell them for you?”
“Easy, Killer,” Ali teased, using her favorite nickname for Emily. Okay, so she’d stretched the truth a teensy bit. The workers actually hadn’t as much as cast a glance in her direction this morning, even when she walked to Jason’s car.
“Okay, everyone, switch,” Ali said to her friends, plopping the plastic spoon back into her cup of Pinkberry and handing it to Hanna, who was on her left. Hanna handed her pistachio to Emily, Emily gave her peanut butter–flavored frozen yogurt to Spencer, and Ali got Aria’s lychee-nut with chocolate sprinkles.
Ali let the flavors melt on her tongue, feeling that all was right with the world. So far today, she’d received three texts from Ian promising her that Spencer’s kiss would come soon but also wanting to know when his kiss with her would be. Hopefully, in time, he’d just forget—especially now that things were going so well with Nick. She was still basking in the glow of their amazing date. Part of her wanted to tell her friends about it, but part of her wanted to keep Nick to herself for a little longer. She hadn’t even written about him in her diary yet; he was so special she hadn’t been able to find the right words to describe him.
She suddenly felt so happy that she wanted to pass the feeling along. She rested her head on Spencer’s blazer-clad shoulder. “So, girls. I think we should all find amazing crushes for the summer. And then we make a move to turn those crushes into boyfriends.”
Hanna looked thrilled. “I’m in! I claim Sean!”
“Great!” Ali grinned. “What about you, Spence? Got anyone you’re into?” She didn’t know when Ian was going to make his move, but the sooner, the better.
Spencer stiffened and gave her a Please don’t tell anyone look. “Uh, no.” She stabbed her spoon into the ice cream and vigorously scooped up a bite.
“Well, I have a crush,” Aria said proudly when Spencer didn’t answer.
“We know, we know.” Emily cuffed her playfully. “On Noel. You’ve only told us fifty times.”
“Yeah, and we even bonded last week,” Aria said excitedly.
Ali demurely blotted her lips with a napkin. “Why don’t I ask him out for you?” she said, feeling generous.
Aria’s eyes widened. “What would you say?”
“I’d tell him that you’re the most awesome girl in the world.”
Aria laughed. “And he’d believe you?”
“Of course, Aria. Noel listens to me. Whatever I say, goes. I can convince him that you’re the only girl he should go out with.” She looked around at the others. “Tell her, guys. Tell her I can convince him Aria is amazing.”
“She can,” Emily said. Of course she was the first to agree.
“It’s true.” Hanna nodded.
Even Spencer reluctantly shrugged. Aria swirled her spoon around her rapidly melting ice cream. “You would really do that for me, Ali? What’s the catch?”
“No catch.” Ali mussed Aria’s barrel curls, which she’d helped her do that morning before school. “I just want you to be happy.” As happy as I am, she thought.
“You’re amazing.” Aria gave Ali a huge hug.
After the girls finished their dessert, Spencer announced she was due at the Rosewood Memorial Hospital, where she volunteered as a candy striper. Hanna’s mom was waiting for her at the Starbucks down the street. Emily and Aria mounted their bikes and headed for home, too. Ali tossed her yogurt cup in the trash and sauntered toward Wordsmith’s, then spied Jason’s car parked in a no-loading zone. For once, he was actually on time.
“Do you mind if we stop at the Kinko’s in Hollis before we go home?” Jason asked when Ali climbed into the car. “I have to make a photocopy of my transcript for school.” Then he glanced at her in the backseat. “And move to the front! I’m not your chauffeur!”
Ali grumbled, then climbed into the front seat at the next stoplight and buckled her seat belt. “Why do you have to make a copy of your transcript for Yale?” she asked.
“Because it has my final grades,” Jason answered. “Yale requires all students to submit them to make sure they still want to admit us.”
Ali wrinkled her nose. “I thought you were already in.”
“It ensures that kids don’t flunk out their last semester of high school,” Jason said, hitting the gas when the light turned green.
Ali closed her eyes and thought about her brother going to college. It used to be one of the things he talked to her about when he visited her at the Radley—he wanted to major in political science, he said, and then maybe become a lawyer who specialized in child emancipation cases. I should get emancipated from Mom and Dad, she’d said sadly. Then maybe I could get out of this place. Jason had murmured in agreement.
They were quiet as the car rolled past the curlicue-lettered sign announcing Hollis College. The campus had a lot of old, brick buildings, a Big Ben–type clock tower, and a big arena that held the ice hockey rink and the fencing rings—Hollis’s only Division I sports. They passed a bar called Snooker’s, which had a chalkboard out front that listed that week’s Phillies schedule. As Jason took a left at the next light, cruising down a street that was rife with college bars and head shops, he gave Ali a sidelong glance. “Can I ask you a question?”