Ali craned her neck. It was Ian and Melissa. They held hands, and when they approached Ian’s SUV, he grabbed Melissa around the waist and gave her a big kiss on the neck, to which she squealed and twisted away.
“I can’t believe it, either,” she mumbled, feeling a surprising stab of jealousy. It wasn’t fair that Ian’s relationship was all well and good after he’d screwed up hers. She wanted him to pay for it—and she thought she knew how. She pulled out her cell phone and hunted for Ian’s number. Want that kiss? she typed in a text. Meet me Thursday night. My yard. Nine PM sharp.
There was a ping within thirty seconds. You got it, Ian wrote back. Ali tried to muster up a flare of excitement—after all, kissing a hot boy was kissing a hot boy. But she felt nothing.
At Ali’s curb, Cassie leaned on the steering wheel. “Do you mind if I come in for a sec? I really, really have to pee.”
“No!” Ali practically shouted.
Cassie drew back, giving Ali a strange look. “Um, we’re having problems with the septic system,” Ali blurted, realizing how insane she’d just sounded. “It really smells.” She looked hard at the house. Had a curtain just fluttered? Could Cassie tell her twin was in there, just by looking at the place?
Cassie made a sympathetic face, then said good-bye. Ali shot out of the car and darted toward the door, relieved when Cassie pulled away from the curb. But just as she was twisting the knob, she heard voices inside.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” her sister wailed.
“You should know better!” her mother answered sternly.
Ali’s skin prickled. What had happened? And then, suddenly, she heard different voices, this time from the backyard. “Why would she be in trouble?” someone whispered. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”
Ali drew away from the door. Was that . . . Emily?
“Not that we know of,” another familiar voice said. Ali almost choked on her gum. Spencer.
Her mind swirled. She hadn’t invited them over. What were they doing here? Had her sister invited them? Or—worse—her mother, wanting Ali to break the news?
They could not know. If they did, what if they slowly figured out the rest of it—that Ali wasn’t who she said she was? Maybe they’d always secretly wondered about Ali abruptly taking them on as friends. Dropping Naomi and Riley without explanation. That time Ali had gotten lost in Rosewood Day at the beginning of sixth grade. Maybe it was all cataloged in their brains, little niggling puzzle pieces that didn’t quite make up a whole picture. With the introduction of a twin, it would. And if her parents figured out, they’d send her to the Preserve to punish her.
She stood on the front porch, terrified to go around the side and face the music. Suddenly, there was a loud slam. Her mother’s voice keened out from the patio. “I just want to make sure you have the dimensions right,” she yelled toward the workers in the back.
Ali stepped off the porch and tiptoed into the side yard just as her mother barreled across the back toward the gazebo workers, who were sitting around, seemingly doing nothing. “I’m not paying you to loaf,” Mrs. DiLaurentis snapped, hands on hips. “Can’t this get done any faster?”
One of the workers raised one shoulder. “We’re waiting for the concrete to dry.”
“When is this hole going to be filled?” Ali’s mother demanded. “Tomorrow?”
The same worker shook his head, his floppy hair bouncing. “Friday. That’s the earliest we could get the truck.”
Mrs. DiLaurentis rolled her eyes and continued to chastise them. Ali took another step closer, her friends coming into view. They were all there, sitting on the back patio, looking nonplussed. Blessedly, Courtney wasn’t with them. So maybe they didn’t know.
She took a deep breath and climbed up the patio stairs.
“Uh . . . hi?” she said.
Spencer stood up. A big, nervous smile spread across Emily’s face. Aria stared at Ali impassively, and Hanna squirmed in her seat. They looked guilty, and Ali’s fears rushed to the surface once more.
“What did she bust you for?” Spencer demanded.
Ali cocked her head, not sure if she should answer.
“Are you getting in trouble without us?” Aria went on, her light, easy tone of voice forced. “And why did you change? That halter you had on was so cute.”
Ali blinked hard. Halter. Her sister had worn a halter the day before. Perhaps she’d put it on this morning, too, as it was probably the cutest thing she owned.
Her knees went weak. They had seen her twin . . . maybe even talked to them, but it wasn’t because of their mother. Where had she been? In the house? Outside?
But then it hit Ali. She bet she knew exactly where they’d seen her sister. Ali’s room.
That bitch, she thought, fury rising in her body like mercury inside a thermometer. How dare she! Was this phase one of her master plan? Was she trying to pass herself off as Ali and try to switch back? What was even worse was that her friends had believed that “Courtney” was Ali. If her sister could convince them, she could convince anyone.