Aria looked at the BrooklynLofts site, then clicked the lid shut before Mike could see. She should tell him about Ezra, but it felt . . . awkward. Last year, Mike had found out about her fling with Ezra and had called her a freakish Shakespeare-lover. Maybe, to him, it would still be weird.
The doorbell rang. Aria glanced at Mike. “Is that Colleen?”
Mike shook his head. “I’m meeting her at the King James. I’m going to try to convince her to go into Agent Provocateur with me—apparently there’s a lingerie runway show tonight. I got two words for you: Double. Dees.”
Rolling her eyes, Aria pushed her books aside and walked to the front door, dodging Lola’s baby toys, swing, and bouncer that littered the hall. When she pulled the door open, Spencer, Hanna, and Emily were huddled under the small porch overhang, dripping wet from the rain. Aria blinked at them in surprise.
“Can we come in?” Spencer asked.
“Of course.” The wind gusted as Aria opened the door wider. The girls stepped inside, peeling off their soaked jackets. Mike hovered in the doorway, though when he saw Hanna, he turned on his heel and retreated to the den.
“We need to talk,” Spencer said after hanging up her coat. “Can we go to your room?”
“Um, okay.” Aria turned, led them up the stairs to her bedroom, and shut the door. Everyone milled around awkwardly. After Real Ali tried to kill them and they’d reunited, they’d spent tons of time up here, but they hadn’t been in Aria’s room since shortly after Jamaica. Even Emily, whom Aria still called almost every night, looked twitchy and uncomfortable, like she’d rather be anywhere else.
Spencer slumped down on the floor, pushed Aria’s stuffed pig, Pigtunia, out of the way, and pulled an iPad out of her bag. “I need to show you guys something.”
A series of photos appeared on the screen. When Spencer tapped the first one, Aria immediately recognized the pink stucco building from the resort they’d stayed at in Jamaica. Then she saw a picture of the mosaic-tiled tables where they ate breakfast every morning. When Spencer touched the screen once more, Noel’s face appeared in a crowd of drunken kids. And then came a shot of Tabitha in her yellow sundress. The blond girl grinned straight into the camera, wearing a faded blue string bracelet that looked so much like the one Their Ali had made for Aria and the others after The Jenna Thing.
Aria’s heart somersaulted. “Who took these?”
“They were on Kelsey’s phone.” Spencer’s face was pale. “I stole her bag while she was at my house, then loaded these onto a flash drive.”
Emily looked appalled. “You stole her photos?”
“I had to,” Spencer said defensively. “Don’t you see what this means? She was in Jamaica the same time as we were. She’s definitely A. She knows what we did in Jamaica, and now she’s out to get us.”
Emily cleared her throat. “I really don’t think Kelsey’s A. I mentioned you to her the other day, Spencer, and she didn’t get angry. She just shrugged. I really don’t think she knows anything.”
Spencer’s eyes flashed. “You saw her again?”
Emily cowered a little. “I . . .”
Aria swiveled around to face Emily. “Wait, you know Kelsey?”
“It’s a long story,” Emily mumbled. “I met her at a party before I knew about what Spencer did to her. But she’s really, really nice. I think Spencer’s wrong about her.”
“Em, you have to stay away from her!” Spencer shrieked. “She knows everything about Jamaica! She has a picture of Tabitha!”
“But why didn’t she start threatening you as soon as she met you at Penn?” Emily chewed on a thumbnail. “If she knew you’d done something awful, wouldn’t she have mentioned it?”
“She didn’t need to threaten me at Penn,” Spencer explained. “I hadn’t done anything to her to warrant it—yet. Maybe she didn’t even realize what she saw in Jamaica—but then, later, after I screwed her over, she put the pieces together. Maybe she spent all her time in juvie gathering information about us . . . and Tabitha!”
“That seems a little far-fetched.” Emily pulled her knees to her chest. “Just because she was in Jamaica doesn’t necessarily make her guilty or mean she saw anything. Noel and Mike were there, too, and we don’t assume they saw.”
“Noel and Mike don’t have a reason to hate us,” Spencer pointed out. “Kelsey does.”
Everyone exchanged nervous glances. A gust of wind bellowed outside, sending a series of humanlike creaks and moans through the house. Aria stared down at Tabitha’s photo. One of her eyes was closed in a gotcha! wink. Aria shut her eyes, remembering Tabitha’s twisted expression when she’d pushed her off the roof. The guilt descended upon her like an avalanche.
“What do you think we should do, Spencer?” Hanna whispered. “If Kelsey is A, and she figured out what happened with Tabitha, why isn’t she going to the police? What’s stopping her?”
Spencer shrugged. “Maybe she doesn’t want the cops involved. Maybe she wants to do things her own way.”