Burned (Pretty Little Liars #12)
Page 22“Yeah. Why?”
Her heart thudded. “Was she at the party where … the brownie incident happened?” She closed her eyes and thought about all the kids stuffed into that off-campus house. She hadn’t seen Naomi there, but she’d been high, and her attention had been on Harper and the other Ivy girls.
“No, a different one,” Reefer furrowed his brows. “Why does it matter?”
“No reason,” Spencer said faintly. Her head was spinning. If Naomi had been at Princeton the same weekend she went to the Ivy Pot Luck, she could have been the one who laced Spencer’s pot brownies with LSD. Hadn’t Spencer heard a freaky giggle when she’d stepped outside the Ivy house? Hadn’t she thought she’d seen a shock of blond hair just like Naomi’s slip into the woods?
And was it possible that Hanna’s accident had started all this? Spencer had begged Hanna to come clean. After Jamaica, they didn’t need another secret on their hands. Hanna had shaken her head. “I can’t do that to my dad’s campaign,” Hanna said a few days later. She and Spencer had been sitting at Wordsmith’s, a bookstore near Rosewood Day.
“But it wasn’t even your fault,” Spencer said, jiggling her foot. “That other car swerved at you from out of nowhere, and then just disappeared.”
“I think that’s what happened.” Hanna shut her eyes, as if trying to replay the scene on the back of her eyelids. “But now I’m not sure. Maybe I was in the wrong lane. The rain was so heavy, and the road is so twisty, and …”
She trailed off, putting her head in her hands. For a while, the only sound in the store was the classical music that played over the speakers. Spencer had looked at her cell phone; she’d received a text from Phineas, a friend she’d made at the University of Pennsylvania summer program she’d enrolled in, asking her if she wanted to go to a party that night. She was about to text him back when she looked over and saw someone standing stock-still in one of the aisles, head cocked. The person slipped out of sight before Spencer could see who it was, but it looked like she had the same color blond hair as Naomi’s.
Now Spencer peered cautiously at Reefer. “I just don’t want anyone mad at me right now.”
Reefer lifted his palms. “Would it help if I told her to back off?”
“Don’t do that!” Spencer said quickly. “I-I just don’t think we should start anything until we get off the ship.”
Reefer looked crushed. “You really think that’s best?”
“I do.”
They stepped away from each other. Reefer turned his back and adjusted the towel around his waist, and Spencer made the mistake of looking at his dewy skin and taut lats. Her stomach swooped. As though pulled by an invisible string, she fell into him again. He pressed her against the wooden wall and kissed her hard.
“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” Reefer joked.
Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Okay, so maybe we make out in private until we get off the boat.”
“If it means making out with you, I’m in.” Then he opened the door. “Let’s go to the pool. My skin feels like it’s boiling off.”
Spencer nodded reluctantly. “But if we see Naomi, we have to leave.”
They padded down the tiled hall toward the pool area. A bunch of kids were having chicken fights in the shallow end, and girls were tanning on lounge chairs near the bar. There was a squeak under Spencer’s feet, and it wasn’t until she was already in the air that she realized she’d slipped. She fell hard on the tiles, banging her elbow. White-hot pain shot through her ankle.
“Ow!” she shrieked, curling into a ball.
Reefer dropped to his knees. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” Spencer touched her foot. It was already swelling up.
“What did you slip on, anyway?” Reefer asked.
“I don’t know.” Spencer looked around for something that had blocked her path, but the corridor was empty. Then the familiar scent of baby oil filled her nostrils. There was a slick puddle a few inches away from where she’d landed. Spencer had taken this route on her way to the sauna, though. The baby oil hadn’t been there a few minutes ago—she was sure of it.
A cold feeling swept over her bones. All at once, a high-pitched giggle swirled down the corridor. As Reefer helped Spencer stand, her phone chimed. She clumsily removed it from her beach bag and read the new text.
Careful, careful! I might just slip, too—and tell.—A
19
DEAD MAN’S FLOAT
“Aria?” Noel called from outside a small striped changing tent near the pool deck. “Are you coming?”
“I don’t know,” Aria said, staring down at her body in the purple string bikini Hanna had insisted she buy for the trip. She’d been so busy with the scavenger hunt that she hadn’t worn it yet, but now she felt self-conscious. It was skimpier than any suit she’d ever worn, the legs cut high, the top cut low.
“How can I teach you how to swim if you don’t come out of the dressing room?” Noel pointed out.
It was Saturday afternoon, and Aria and Noel had just finished their lunch shift at the café and finally had some time to spend together. When Noel suggested teaching Aria how to swim properly, Aria thought he was kidding. “I’m the best teacher ever, I promise,” he’d insisted.
She emerged from the tent. The air had turned chilly in the last hour, and the pool area had cleared out. Steam rose from the hot tub. Floating lounge chairs, kickboards, and fun noodles were stacked in plastic bins on the deck. There was something eerie about the emptiness, though—the starfish, dolphin, and octopus decorations on the railings looked angry instead of friendly.
She lowered the towel and dropped it on one of the chaises. Noel, who was dressed in flowered trunks, sucked in a breath. “Whoa.”
“Oh, stop,” Aria said, smiling to herself. She walked to the steps and started into the pool. The water lapped around her toes, then her calves, then her midsection. She ducked her head under and came up sputtering. “Cold!”
Aria wrapped her legs around him, feeling weightless and free. They kissed for a long time, the chlorine-filled water brushing against their bodies. In the bowels of the ship, the New Age Cirque du Soleil music started to play.
“Let’s see your swim technique,” Noel said when they broke apart.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Aria waded into the deeper end until her feet no longer touched the bottom. Then her legs flailed wildly. Her arms slashed this way and that. After a while, she settled into a swim stroke that Mike called the Aria Paddle.
When she finally made it to the wall, she turned around. Noel looked horrified. “You really didn’t ever take swim lessons as a kid.”
Aria shook her head. “Mike did, but my parents never insisted on it. I always took sculpting. Or drama. Or hip-hop dance.”
“We should probably teach you the basics,” Noel said. “Do you know how to do the dead man’s float?”
Aria winced at the name. “Uh, no.”
Noel led her back to the shallow end. “This will help you in case you ever get stranded at sea.”
Aria gave him a crazy look. “Thanks, but I don’t plan on that happening.”
“No one ever does.” Noel put his hands on his hips. “Lie facedown in the water. I’ll hold you up.”
Aria did as she was told. She felt Noel’s hands prop her up under her waist. “Stretch out your arms!” he said. “Now totally relax!” It was weird not to thrash around to stay afloat—she kept thinking she was going to sink. But after a moment, she went with it and opened her eyes underwater. The bottom of the pool had diamond-shaped tiles. She could just make out Noel’s blurry feet.
She turned her head to breathe, then plunged under again. Her limbs felt heavy, but buoyant. It was Zen, like she really was dead.
Tabitha’s body floating in the waves flashed in her mind. Then came a voice: You did that. You’re going to be punished. Instantly, her focus shattered. She breathed in a mouthful of water and came up sputtering, staring at Noel as if he’d seen into her thoughts.
“What happened!” Noel cried, oblivious. “You were doing great!”
Aria wiped water out of her eyes. “I got scared,” she muttered. It wasn’t a lie.
Over the next hour, Aria learned how to tread water with the flutter and frog kicks. She struggled with sculling, but had a pretty decent first try at the elementary backstroke. By the time the sun came out again and a few kids appeared on the pool deck, Aria felt exhausted but almost successful. She and Noel retreated to the hot tub and shared a pitcher of lemonade.
“You do make a pretty good teacher,” she told Noel, kissing him on the cheek. “It’s romantic, too. Both of us almost naked, you holding me up …”
“I don’t think I should surf quite yet,” Aria said, shutting her eyes and letting the hot tub jets massage her legs. “But sure. We can do more lessons.”
“How about later? I could take a day off surfing.”
Aria opened her eyes. There was such a tender look on Noel’s face that she hated to let him down. “I can’t,” she said regretfully. “I have to meet Graham.”
“Oh.” Noel looked disappointed. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry.” Aria felt genuinely bad—Noel looked so upset. “We’re just friends.”
“I know, I know. He likes you, though. A dude can tell.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Aria said quickly. “He’s this close to making a date with Tori. They ran into each other at dinner last night, and she invited him to sit at her table, but we’re not really counting that as a date because it wasn’t planned.”
Noel snickered. “You really like playing Cupid, don’t you?”
“Definitely,” Aria said. “It makes me feel good.” She meant that in more ways than one.
Someone turned on a radio, and a Shakira song played. Caterers began to set out a buffet, and a few kids got in line. Noel lifted the locket that hung around Aria’s neck. “I’m glad you’re still wearing this.”
“It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever given me,” Aria murmured.
Noel dropped the necklace back to her chest, and she stared at it again. There was something so familiar about it, something she couldn’t place.
Something next to her towel caught her eye. Her cell phone screen had lit up. She climbed out of the hot tub and looked at the screen. One new text.
She turned her back so Noel couldn’t see. After she read it through, she pressed DELETE and, luckily, the note vanished. But she wouldn’t forget the message for a long time.