Pretty Little Liars #13: Crushed

“Huh.” Hanna slowly ran a brush through her hair. “I never thought about that.”

 

 

It was a theory Chase had raised. Spencer had begged him to go in her place today to see if Ali or her mysterious boyfriend showed up, but he couldn’t. He didn’t explain why.

 

Her laptop beeped as if on cue. Spencer had a new e-mail in her top secret account. She glanced at the screen, shielding it from Hanna with her hand. Looking forward to seeing you tonight, Britney, Chase wrote, adding a winking smiley face. And, by the way, I just found out something interesting about Alison.

 

Her heart started to pound. What?

 

Another e-mail popped up. Don’t want to tell you online, Chase wrote. But I’ll see you soon.

 

Spencer gritted her teeth. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Only three more hours.

 

It was going to feel like an eternity.

 

 

 

Just as dusk was falling, Spencer and Chase, who met her back at her house, walked hand in hand to the limo at the curb. As Chase held the door for her, she gave him a bashful smile.

 

“You look amazing,” Chase said, kissing her cheek.

 

Spencer tried not to swoon. “You look great, too.” Chase’s tux fit him perfectly. He’d been so polite when he’d handed Spencer her corsage and posed for the pictures. Even Amelia, who wrinkled her nose at everything, had gawked.

 

The limo turned out of the cul-de-sac and onto the country road toward Philadelphia. The front window was down just a little, blowing in the sweet-smelling spring air.

 

But even when Chase popped the cork of a bottle of champagne and handed Spencer a glass, she couldn’t relax. She turned to Chase. “Now that we’re alone, can you please tell me what you know about Alison?”

 

Chase sipped from his champagne flute. “I got some interesting footage from a friend. It’s a surveillance video from a building not far from here. There’s a girl in one of the shots who looks like Alison.”

 

Spencer’s skin prickled. “You’re kidding.” She glanced at Chase’s phone, which was on his lap. “Do you have it on you? Can we watch?”

 

Chase stared at his phone, too. “I don’t have it.”

 

“Oh.” Spencer slumped.

 

“Was that the only reason you came out with me tonight?” Chase’s voice was froggy.

 

“Of course not!” Spencer cried. “I just . . . well, that sounds huge. I’d love to see it.”

 

He took her hand. “This is huge too, though. Being with you, I mean. I just want a calm, normal night, one where we don’t talk about Ali or stalkers or the shitty things that have happened to us. One where, like, you don’t almost die from something falling on your head.” He tried to laugh.

 

Spencer blinked. “But . . .”

 

“How about this.” Chase squeezed her hand. “How about I access the video after our first dance. That’s, what, an hour from now? I just want a little bit of time with this amazing girl I met named Spencer. Okay?”

 

Bubbles from the champagne fizzed in Spencer’s nose. She gazed at the blurry highway lights above them. When was the last time she’d just enjoyed something? Even the cruise, which was supposed to be relaxing, had been a horrible, stressful mess. And it was kind of nice to be thought of as just Spencer, a regular girl, not Spencer the Pretty Little Liar.

 

“As long as you promise to show me everything as soon as that first dance ends,” she said.

 

“I promise.”

 

They shook on it. Chase rested his head on her shoulder. They looked out the window as the city of Philadelphia glittered on the horizon, and they started to talk. Spencer asked him about what his prom would have been like, and who he would have liked to have taken, and what he was thinking about studying in college next year. Then they talked about her upcoming semester at Princeton. Spencer even told him a little about the huge mishap at the potluck party the weekend she’d visited.

 

They talked the whole traffic-jammed ride into the city, and before Spencer knew it, they were taking the off-ramp near the zoo. Her pulse had slowed. Her cheeks hurt from laughing. Talking about everything but the case was a good suggestion.

 

Then, as they stopped at a light, the driver turned on the radio. And now, turning to the murder investigation of Tabitha Clark. Investigators say they’ve made headway with their questioning and have several potential suspects.

 

Spencer dug her nails into her knee. Suspects?

 

“That story is crazy, isn’t it?” Chase crossed his legs. “I’ve been following it a little. A few people have sent requests for me to post about it on my site.”

 

“Huh,” Spencer said, shakily pushing a lock of hair off her shoulder.

 

Chase grabbed his champagne flute. “Actually, you were in Jamaica when Tabitha died, weren’t you? Did you see anything?”

 

Spencer turned and stared at him, a cold feeling trickling down her back. “I never told you I was in Jamaica.”

 

Chase blinked. “Yes, you did.”

 

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