Like . . . while Hallbjorn may know how to detonate an explosive, Aria’s the one with the self-destruct button. She ruins everything she touches: Ezra’s career. Her parents’ marriage. Her own relationships. Yet for someone so easily burned, Aria keeps playing with fire—she falls in and out of love faster than you can say “I do.” I can only imagine who her next relationship will be with—another artist, another Typical Rosewood Boy?—and how it will end. Unless, of course, I end it for her.
This is the problem with artsy girls. They treat life like a blank canvas, painting over their missteps and never learning from their mistakes. Every new guy, every new town is simply an opportunity to try on a new persona. But moving to Iceland doesn’t fix a broken family, dyeing a vintage wedding dress lime-green doesn’t make it fabulous new prom-wear, and nothing, absolutely nothing, gets Aria and her friends off the hook for what they did.
The honeymoon’s over, Aria. And reality is going to bite.
That’s something Spencer has to find out, too. She still hopes that she can start fresh with her damaged family. But don’t worry, my pretties. Spencer is about to learn that not everyone deserves—or gets—a happy New Year . . .
Spencer’s Pretty Little Secret
Chapter 1
Deep Freeze in the Warm Florida Sun
The day after Christmas, Spencer Hastings sat squished in a narrow leather seat of a private plane as it touched down at the airport in Longboat Key, Florida. Through the window, she watched the heat rise up from the tarmac, making the palm trees look like they were swaying and shimmering. The sun beat down ruthlessly on the traffic controllers, who strutted about in T-shirts, shorts, and sunglasses. It was a huge change from the seventeen-degree weather and two-foot snowdrifts in Rosewood. Spencer couldn’t think of a better time to take a vacation to Nana Hastings’s Florida beach house—although given that her family was, as usual, barely speaking to her, she could think of many better groups to travel with.
Spencer’s mother, who sat farther up the aisle and was dressed in her requisite flying uniform of a cashmere hoodie and yoga pants, lifted the satin sleep mask from her eyes. “Peter, did you remember to rent a car?”
Spencer’s father paused from typing on his Android phone and let out an exasperated puff of air. “Of course I did. I rented a Mercedes SUV.”
“The G-class?”
“No.” He stood and grabbed everyone’s bags from the overhead compartment. “The ML350.”
Spencer’s mother made a face. “But the G550 has more legroom.”
“Veronica, everything is walkable in Longboat Key—we don’t even really need a car.” He dropped Spencer’s mother’s travel-sized Louis Vuitton bag on the empty seat next to her.
The captain interrupted, telling the family that they’d landed—duh—and that Gina, the flight attendant, would open the door so they could disembark. Spencer eased out of the aisle behind her parents. Her sister, Melissa, fell in line behind her, keeping her head down and her iPod earbuds securely in each ear. She hadn’t said a word the whole flight, which was odd—normally, she didn’t shut up about the town house she was renovating, how well she was doing at the University of Pennsylvania Wharton School of business, or how generally fabulous she was.
Spencer knew the reason for Melissa’s silence. A month and a half ago, Melissa’s boyfriend, Ian Thomas, had been arrested for murdering Spencer’s old best friend Alison DiLaurentis. Apparently, Ian and Ali had been secret lovers; Ali had pushed Ian to expose their relationship, and Ian had killed her in a frustrated rage. As Melissa’s boyfriends were usually blue bloods groomed to make partner at daddy’s law firm or become the next state senator, Ian’s circumstances represented a bit of a step down. Melissa didn’t believe Ian had really done it, but that didn’t matter. The rest of Rosewood sure did.
The situation was made even more complicated by the fact that Spencer had been the one who’d turned Ian in—she had recalled seeing him the night Ali went missing. In the month since Ian was thrown in jail, Melissa had been extra-frosty with Spencer—an impressive feat, considering the sisters didn’t have a good relationship to begin with. Over the past few months, things had gone from bad to worse: They’d fought viciously over a boy, aired their dirty sisterhood laundry in front of a therapist, and had gotten into a colossal argument that ended with Spencer accidentally pushing Melissa down the stairs. Not to mention that Spencer had stolen Melissa’s AP Econ paper and claimed it as her own, winning a prestigious Golden Orchid essay contest as a result.
Gina opened the hatch, and the family climbed down the rickety staircase onto the runway. The Florida heat and humidity enveloped Spencer immediately, and she shucked her North Face jacket. The Hastings family walked stiffly and silently into the terminal, their synchronized footsteps the only indication they even knew each other at all.