A lump formed in her throat.

But then she turned and hurried down the stone steps toward the parking lot. There was the car service she’d arranged, chugging at the curb. She slipped inside.

As the car merged onto route 76, Spencer peered out the window wistfully, gazing at the twinkle lights on the row houses along the Schuylkill River. She’d always enjoyed that view driving out of the city. One more thing she’d never get to see again after tonight.

Her phone bleated, and she checked the caller ID. Wren. Spencer’s finger paused over the IGNORE button, but then something made her answer.

“Spencer?” It sounded like Wren was smiling. “What are you up to?”

“Uh, nothing,” Spencer said cagily, glancing out the window at the rushing traffic on 76. “Just, you know. Sitting in my bedroom.”

“Would your ankle bracelet confirm that?” Wren asked. “It wouldn’t say that, for example, you were at a fabulous wedding, getting your picture taken on the red carpet?”

Spencer shut her eyes. Busted. “I wanted to invite you,” she blurted. “But it was so sudden. And I wanted tonight to be about my friends. We’d been fighting for so long, and we just made up, and—”

“It’s okay,” Wren cut her off. “I totally get it. You needed a night with them.”

Tears suddenly filled her eyes. Wren understood her so well. He was so good at letting her be who she was. She hated that she would be leaving him.

“Now, look,” Wren was saying. “Is there any way you can steal away from that fantastic wedding and hang out with me for a bit? I’ll come to your house if you want. I just want to see you tonight.”

Spencer checked the clock on the car’s dashboard. 9:45. Only fifteen minutes until Angela. “I’m exhausted.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, okay? I’ll be round in about a half hour. See you then.”

“Wait!” Spencer cried, but Wren had already hung up. She pressed her hands over her face. Wren would come to the house and she wouldn’t be there. What if he got suspicious? Called the police? He wouldn’t do it to tell on her, of course . . . but out of concern. And that would risk everything. She needed this Angela thing to go off without a hitch.

But in the back of her mind, she fantasized about seeing Wren one more time. Somehow. Just once more before she went.

She’d give anything.

She only had five minutes to spare by the time she returned to her family’s house. The night was warm and muggy, and her already-sweaty skin felt even stickier as she sat down on the curb to wait. Her house loomed behind her, so familiar. She’d lived here almost all her life. So many memories had been formed in the front yard, on the front porch, behind those walls. Because of all the A stuff, it felt like she’d been dwelling on the bad, but there were good memories, too. All those giggle-fest sleepovers with her friends. All the papers she’d written in her bedroom, all the plays she’d rehearsed for in the backyard, the times her dad had grilled burgers while she and Melissa wore tiaras and made crayon menus for their “restaurant.” Soon, a new generation would be doing those same things here. She thought about Melissa’s baby.

Spencer’s thoughts returned to the little onesies Melissa had bought yesterday. After she vanished, Melissa certainly wouldn’t want her to be the baby’s godmother . . . Would Melissa even tell the baby about her? Or would everyone just pretend Spencer didn’t exist?

Headlights appeared at the end of the road, and Spencer stood up. A black car rolled up, and the front window slowly descended. Angela’s face peered out from the driver’s seat. “Hand over the jewels. I’ll look at them, and if they look good, you can get in.”

But suddenly, Spencer found she couldn’t move. All at once, there was no way she could just disappear without ever seeing Wren . . . or Hanna . . . or Aria . . . or even her family ever again.

She stepped away from the curb. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I . . . can’t.”

Angela stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“I . . . I changed my mind.”

Angela chuckled lightly. “So you want to go to prison instead?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re out of your mind.”

Maybe Spencer was out of her mind. But there was something about reconciling with her friends today, something about all of them being together, that made her want to stay and face the consequences, whatever they were. It didn’t seem fair that she would get to run away and start over while they had to remain here and serve out Ali’s punishment. They were in this together, for better or worse. We’ll always have each other, Hanna had said. And she was right.

And she’d have Melissa, too. And Melissa’s baby.

“Suit yourself,” Angela said. “So I guess I’ll see you when I see you, huh?”

And then she peeled away. Spencer watched until her headlights disappeared around the corner, wondering if she’d made a huge mistake.

But she knew, deep down, that she hadn’t. At least right now, she was still herself. Wren was on his way over, and she would take full advantage of every minute they had left together.

She would still get to be Spencer Hastings, the girl she’d always been, for a little while longer.

25

SO MUCH FOR A HONEYMOON

A little after 1 AM—after the fireworks display; the many toasts from Hailey Blake, Hanna’s mother, Mike’s lacrosse buddies, and even Hanna’s father; after they’d taken a million red-carpet glamour shots and she’d kissed a zillion relatives and retweeted wedding pictures at least thirty times—Hanna’s guests stood on the stone steps of the mansion, sending her and Mike off. People threw rice at their heads. Others blew bubbles. Hanna gazed through the crowd, searching for her friends but only seeing Aria. She wondered where Spencer had disappeared to. It was a shame she was missing this moment.




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