“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.
Clownfish are pretty,
Starfish are pale.
Will Aria’s boyfriend
Visit her in jail?
—A
20
RESISTING IS SO HARD TO DO
An hour later, Emily stood with Aria and Spencer in a secluded corner near the shuffleboard deck, grass skirts around their waists. She listened to the beginning bars of the Hawaiian hula sound they’d chosen for the talent show swell through the portable iPod speakers. After a moment, she counted off. “Five, six, seven, eight …”
They all waved their hands gracefully and started wiggling their hips. About thirty seconds in, Aria stopped and stared at the others. “We’re all making our hands go in different directions for that part,” she said. “We all need to swish to the right first, then the left.”
“I’m doing the best I can, considering the fact that my ankle is killing me.” Spencer held up her left foot, which had an Ace bandage wrapped around it. She said she’d slipped in baby oil earlier.
“And we talked about adding that waddling-like-a-duck move,” Aria said as she paused the song. “Does anyone remember exactly how to do it? Ali was definitely the best at it.”
“I’m so sick of Ali,” Emily mumbled angrily under her breath.
Spencer and Aria’s heads snapped up. “What was that, Em?” Aria asked.
“Nothing,” Emily said stiffly, smoothing down the grass skirt. One of the blades pierced her thigh, and she winced. “Does anyone else think these skirts suck?” she snapped.
Spencer leaned against the railing, looking worried. “Are you okay?”
Emily sighed. “I just don’t feel in the mood to do this anymore. I mean, what’s the point?” She shoved her flip-flops back on her feet, keeping her eyes averted from her friends. “We’re being tortured by A. We’re practically wanted by the police. Don’t you think doing a talent show routine is a little ridiculous? How are we going to ride a Vespa in jail?”
“It’s a nice diversion,” Spencer said quietly.
“Did something happen, Em?” Aria pressed. “Something with A? Something with that girl you saw on TV yesterday? Is she really on the ship?”
Emily looked away, biting her lip. She regretted that her friends had been there to witness her CNN Preppy Thief meltdown. She didn’t want to drag them into the scandal. “She got off the boat yesterday,” she lied—although, for all she knew, it was true. There had been no trace of Jordan when Emily got back to her room the day before, and she hadn’t heard from her since. “And let’s never talk about it again, okay?”
There was a long, awkward pause. “Okay,” Spencer said, concern in her voice.