“This place smells like my grandma’s basement,” she said, grabbing Aria’s arm and steering her out the door. “Let’s go outside.”
They wove through the piles of wicker baskets and around a large wooden butter churn and emerged into the late afternoon sun. The air was scented with lilacs. A horse neighed from a nearby pasture. Despite the idyllic setting, Ali suddenly felt that familiar prickle in her spine. A car passed, and when she looked through the windshield, Melissa Hastings’s scowling face stared back. Ali flinched. They weren’t far from their neighborhood, but this was a back road, not one that Melissa would have much reason to travel on.
Then Ali spied two guys emerging from the enormous Colonial-style house down the path from the barn. “Is that Noel Kahn?” she asked.
Aria whipped around. They both watched as Noel and a guy they didn’t recognize grabbed a basketball from the grass and shot hoops in the huge, circular driveway.
“C’mon,” Ali said, starting across the parking lot. “Let’s go talk to them.”
“Wait!” Aria shrieked, grabbing her arm. “How do I look?”
Ali inspected Aria, from her Technicolor hair to her sparkly blue eye shadow to the swirly patterned hippie top that showed off her skinny arms and big-for-seventh-grade boobs. “You look great,” she said. “But ditch the pig, okay?”
Aria stuck Pigtunia on the roof of her parents’ car, and then she and Ali started over. The boys looked up when they saw them coming. Noel’s brown hair was tousled, and there was a smudge of dirt on his face. He and the other guy, who had curly blond hair, freckles, and pinchable cherub cheeks, wore sleeveless T-shirts, long mesh shorts, and white sneakers that looked enormous on their feet.
“Hey, Ali. Hey, Aria,” Noel said.
Aria grabbed Ali’s hand. He knows my name! the squeeze said. Of course he does, Ali wanted to tell her. She’d only introduced them six million times.
“Hey, Noel,” Ali said. Then she looked at Cherub Cheeks. “Who’s your friend?”
The guy stepped forward. “Mason Byers. I just moved here from Atlanta.”
“He’s going to be on the lacrosse team next year,” Noel said. “Coach asked me to show him around.” He gestured across the street. “Were you girls antiquing?”
“My parents are,” Aria said, rolling her eyes. “They’re obsessed with old stuff.”
“That’s cool.” Noel turned his green eyes to Aria. “My parents are, too. My dad collects scale models of ships. They’re taking over his office.”
“My dad’s into books,” Aria admitted, fiddling with her fake nose ring. “Sometimes he goes to flea markets and brings back a whole crate of them, looking for one that’s valuable. My mom wants to kill him most of the time—we don’t have room for all of them.”
“Flea markets can be pretty cool,” Noel said. “I once found a killer neon beer sign at the one in Bryn Mawr.”
Ali snorted. “Noel, when have you ever gone to a flea market?” Noel’s family was one of the richest in Rosewood.
Noel gave Ali a playful poke. “I’ve been to plenty. And if you’re not interested, when Aria and I go to a flea market, you don’t have to come.”
Ali rolled her eyes. “As if I’d want to.”
A loud beep sounded from across the road. Aria’s parents were trying to fit a round table with ornately carved legs into the back of their Subaru. The table fell to the ground with a clonk, and Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery started arguing.
Clouds rolled across Aria’s face. “We should probably head back over.”
“Good luck with that table,” Noel said.
“Nice meeting you,” Ali said to Mason as they walked away.
Once the boys went back to playing basketball and they were out of earshot, Aria grabbed Ali’s arm excitedly. “Oh my God, he wants to go to a flea market with me!”
Ali snorted. “He didn’t exactly say that.”
“Still, it went well, don’t you think?”
Ali glanced at her friend. Aria’s eyes were shining, almost spinning, she was so excited. For whatever reason, it annoyed her. It wasn’t like Noel would ever really go for Aria when he had someone like Ali as an option. He was just being nice, probably because Aria was Ali’s best friend.
Suddenly, her cell phone buzzed. Hey, cutie, said a text from a local 610 number.
She frowned. Who is this? she wrote back.
You’ve forgotten me again? came the reply. It’s Nick from camp.
Ali’s heart flipped over. Finally! She’d been waiting for Nick to text. My memory is coming back to me, she wrote.
Just wanted to say hi, Nick responded. Gotta run.
Ali slipped her phone back into her pocket, feeling triumphant. She knew making him jealous would work like a charm.
She looked at Aria, suddenly feeling more magnanimous. “I think it went really well,” she said.