Pretty Little Liars #12: Burned

“Erin Bang Bang. But just the guys call her that, not the girls. She’s from Villa Louisa, that Catholic school that’s obsessed with sex.”

 

 

“I heard a rumor about that girl today,” Spencer said as she deliberated over chocolate or rainbow sprinkles. “She’s the one who dumped Justin Bieber because he was too boring, right?”

 

“Noel told me she made out with the pastry chef minutes after the boat disembarked,” Aria piped up. “He created a dessert in her honor.”

 

Hanna made a face. “She’s not that great.”

 

Emily stared at the labels on the tubs of ice cream. They all had politically correct names like Free-Trade Vanilla, Sensitively Harvested Chocolate, Organic Strawberry, and Cruelty-Free Rocky Road (No Marshmallows). Then she eyed Erin again. “This afternoon, she walked into our room for about one minute, took one look at me, and walked out again,” she said stiffly. “I guess she thought I was a sucky choice for a roommate.”

 

“Aw, Em.” Hanna placed her hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure it wasn’t because of anything you did.”

 

“I’d love to be your roommate,” Aria added. “I’m stuck with this girl from Tate who’s obsessed with the talent show at the end of the trip. She’s already working on a song—and her voice is awful.”

 

Emily smiled at all of them, instantly feeling better. One good thing had come out of this A mess: She’d reunited with her friends for real.

 

They moved closer to Erin Bang Bang’s booth. Now she was sitting on the lap of a tall guy with surfer-dude blond hair. “What do you say to a Titanic moment later on?” she cooed to him loudly, sounding a little drunk.

 

Surfer Dude widened his eyes. “Which moment would that be? ‘I’m the king of the world’? The part where Leo sketches Kate in the nude?”

 

“Whatever moment you want,” Erin Bang Bang said, trailing her finger up the boy’s cheek. “Want to meet in your room in an hour?”

 

Emily turned away. So much for a heart-to-heart bonding session tonight. For some reason, she felt like Erin was rejecting her, not just being a slut.

 

Spencer grabbed a napkin from the stack. “Forget about her, Em—we’ll have a great time together.” She pointed at a talent show poster on the wall, which featured silhouettes of kids dancing à la the iPod ads. “Why don’t we do an act together?”

 

Hanna rolled her eyes. “Why is everyone so into this stupid talent show? Didn’t they go out in, like, fourth grade?”

 

“Come on.” Aria nudged her. “We could all make up a dance routine.”

 

“What about a hula dance?” Emily suggested, spooning up whipped cream from the top of her sundae. “We could wear bathing suits and make grass skirts.”

 

“Perfect,” Spencer said. When she noticed Hanna’s sour face, she poked her arm. “You’re doing it with us whether you like it or not.”

 

“Fine,” Hanna said, rolling her eyes.

 

Sundaes in hand, they pushed through the crowd toward a booth that had just opened up. Emily slumped into the seat and gazed around the huge room once more. Kids hung on the railings and crammed against the bar. When she saw a flash of a white dress, her heart sped up a little. Ghost Girl?

 

But then the girl stepped out from the crowd. She had a stubby blond ponytail and a big nose. Emily’s shoulders drooped in disappointment.

 

A new song came on, and Jeremy’s voice boomed through the speakers. “This is going to be the last song of the night. I hope everyone had a great time, but we gotta get our beauty sleep!”

 

Spencer snorted into her hand. “Beauty sleep? That dude is so weird.”

 

“Does anyone else think he’s sort of a lech?” Hanna whispered. “I swear I’ve felt someone watching me all day. And when I turn around, he’s always there.”

 

“Are you sure it’s not A?” Aria asked.

 

“A’s not on the ship,” Emily insisted. “Didn’t you see all that security checking IDs at the gate?”

 

Aria raised an eyebrow. “Who says A doesn’t have an ID? I’m with Hanna. Ever since I boarded the cruise, I’ve felt … weird. Like someone is watching, but then ducking away before I can see who it is.”

 

“But …” Emily trailed off. She didn’t even want to consider the idea of A being on the boat.

 

She glanced around. A shadow slipped behind a large potted plant, but when Emily turned to see who it was, no one was there. James Freed was grinding against a few girls from Pritchard. Phi Templeton carried a big dish of ice cream to her seat.

 

As Beyoncé launched into a new verse, Jeremy cleared his throat. “One other thing, guys. Not to be a buzzkill, but some items have gone missing from people’s rooms. Please know we don’t tolerate this behavior. Respect the earth, respect people’s stuff, you know?”

 

Shepard, Sara's books