A few hours later, Emily walked toward the Rosewood Lanes, the old bowling-alley-slash-cocktail-lounge that had a large neon sign of a ball striking ten pins above the entrance. She spied Kelsey—Emily felt foolish for thinking her name had been Kay when really it had just been her first initial, and now she couldn’t think of her by anything other than her full name—waiting by the door, dressed in jeans, a long yellow tunic sweater, and a green anorak with a furry hood. She was taking a big swig from a Poland Spring water bottle. When Kelsey saw Emily, she jumped, quickly stuffed something back into her gold purse, and shot Emily a huge but slightly off-kilter smile. “Ready to bowl?”
Emily snickered. “We’re not really bowling, are we?”
“If the Chambermaids guys want to, I’m all for it.” The band members from the Chambermaids had challenged Kelsey and Emily to a friendly game of bowling.
The two of them walked into the darkly lit bowling alley. It smelled like old shoes and fried mozzarella sticks and was filled with the sounds of heavy balls crashing into pins. Both of them scanned the crowd, which was a mix of old guys in satin bowling league jackets, Hollis students swilling cocktails, and high-school kids drawing pornographic pictures on the big scorecards that were reflected on the ceiling. They were early, though, and the guys from the band were nowhere to be seen.
“Let’s grab some snacks.” Kelsey headed to the bar. They settled on two plush red stools. The bartender, a stout guy with a bushy beard and several large tattoos on his biceps, strolled over and gave them a dirty look. He didn’t seem the type who’d tolerate underage drinkers. Emily asked for water. Kelsey ordered a Diet Coke and some fries.
When the bartender trundled away, silence fell between them. All Emily could think of was her conversation with Spencer. On one hand, she felt like a traitor for defying Spencer’s wishes. On the other, she was certain Spencer was wrong about Kelsey being A.
“I think we know someone in common,” Emily blurted out, not able to hold it in any longer. “Spencer Hastings. We used to be best friends, actually. Spencer said she met you at the Penn summer program.”
Kelsey flinched. “Oh,” she said quietly, peering down to inspect her strawberry-colored split ends. “Yeah. I knew Spencer.”
Emily turned over an old coaster for Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, its corners chipped away. “Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t recognized me. I was one of Alison DiLaurentis’s best friends, too. One of the Pretty Little Liars.”
Kelsey’s lips made a small O. After a moment, she smacked the side of her head. “God, right. Spencer told me about all of that. You must think I’m a huge idiot. I knew you looked familiar . . . I just didn’t know from where.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” Emily said quickly, noting that Kelsey genuinely seemed surprised about who she was. “I didn’t feel like talking about it. I hate people defining me by what happened.”
“Of course.” Kelsey nodded like she was absolutely tuned in to the conversation, but her eyes darted distractedly all over the bar area. Her hands were shaking a little, too, as if she’d drunk a hundred cups of espresso.
The bartender returned and plunked down their drinks and a large plate of fries. Kelsey busied herself with dousing them in ketchup and salt. After taking a sip of her Diet Coke and eating a fry, she raised her eyes to Emily again. “Spencer and I lost touch last summer. It was because I . . .” A muscle at her temple twitched. “I was sent away to juvie.”
Emily blinked. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” She hoped she sounded surprised.
Kelsey shrugged. “I haven’t told that many people—a lot of kids at school think I did an exchange program. But the cops found drugs in my dorm room at Penn, and it was my second strike. I don’t even know if Spencer knew about it, even though she was with me the night it went down. I saw her the other day and told her, but she reacted really strangely. Maybe it’s because she . . .” She was talking very quickly, so it was jarring when she trailed off. “I’m sorry. She’s your friend. I shouldn’t talk about her.”
“We’re not as close as we used to be.” Emily pushed her straw around her water glass, making a mini whirlpool with the ice cubes.
Kelsey’s hands shook faster. When she reached for the fries, she could barely hold one without it wobbling all over the place. “Are you okay?” Emily asked worriedly.
“I’m fine.” Kelsey shot Emily a tight smile and tucked her hands in her lap. “Just a little overwhelmed, I guess.”
Emily touched Kelsey’s shoulder. “I’m not judging you, you know. We’ve all made mistakes. I’m really flattered you told me about juvie. It must have been really rough.”