“She wanted what every A wanted.” Hanna picked at her cuticles. “Revenge.”
“But why did she try to kill herself?” Spencer had been running the problem over in her mind all night. “That’s unlike Mona or Ali. I would’ve thought she’d wanted us dead instead.”
“Maybe she wanted us to know we drove her to suicide,” Aria suggested. “It’s the ultimate guilt-trip. We’d have it on our conscience for the rest of our lives.”
The strong scent of chlorine tickled Spencer’s nose. She’d never suspected that Kelsey was suicidal—she’d always seemed so bubbly and carefree at Penn, even in the thick of taking Easy A. Had it been juvie that had changed her? Had it been the addiction to drugs? That was the biggest surprise of all: In Spencer’s memories, Kelsey had been resistant to taking the pills, seemingly disgusted by her druggie past. She’d never have thought Kelsey would turn to them again after juvie. After Spencer’s near-arrest experience, she’d quit Easy A cold turkey. It had been hard, especially with all the cramming she still needed to do, but she’d powered through her studies, scoring fives on the exams anyway. Nowadays, Spencer didn’t even yearn for the pills anymore.
But then, Kelsey’s life had taken such a different turn from hers. Even if Kelsey hadn’t succeeded in jumping into Floating Man Quarry, just the fact that she’d wanted to do it was more than Spencer could bear. It could have been all her fault, both for getting her back into drugs and for getting her sent to juvie. The visions Spencer had been having of Kelsey and Tabitha weren’t because of stress over school, as Spencer had wanted to believe. The guilt over what she’d done was eating her from the inside out. It was a good thing no one important had seen her attack on Kelsey at the cast party, like Wilden or her mother or any of the Rosewood Day teachers—Pierre had been there, but word had it he’d also been drunk. If Spencer didn’t find a healthy outlet for this guilt soon, she was a little afraid of what she might see—or do—next.
“Maybe Spencer’s right.” Emily broke the silence. “Maybe we should go see Kelsey at the Preserve. Try to figure things out.”
Hanna chewed on her pinkie. “Guys, I’m not super comfortable about going back there. It’s an awful place.”
“We’ll be with you,” Aria said. “And if it gets too hard, I’ll take you home.” Then she looked at Spencer. “I think we should go, too. Together.”
“I’ll set up an appointment for us tomorrow when we go back inside,” Spencer said.
Fat raindrops began to fall on the hot tub, first slowly, and then fast and steady. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Spencer eyed the steel-colored sky. “So much for our big hot tub idea.”
She climbed out of the tub, wrapped herself in an orange towel, and handed three towels to her old friends. Everyone was silent as they padded back toward the kitchen. Hanna and Aria slipped inside, but as Emily passed by, Spencer caught her arm. “Are you okay?”
Emily nodded faintly, her eyes trained on the wood slats on the deck. “I’m so sorry again,” she sighed. “It was wrong of me to tell Kelsey what you did. I never should have trusted her over you.”
“I should have never said what I said to you, either. I don’t know what happened to me.”
“Maybe I deserved it,” Emily said sadly.
“You didn’t.” Poor Emily, always thinking she deserved the worst. Spencer leaned into her. “We’ve been terrible to each other ever since Jamaica. We should know by now that we should stick together, not fight.”
“I know.” A tiny smile wobbled across Emily’s lips. Then, awkwardly, she stepped forward and circled her arms around Spencer’s shoulders. Spencer hugged back, feeling tears come to her eyes. In moments, Aria and Hanna returned from inside and looked at them. Spencer wasn’t sure if they’d heard the conversation or not, but both girls stepped forward and wrapped their arms around Spencer and Emily, too, becoming a four-girl sandwich, just like they’d hugged in sixth and seventh grade. They were one girl short, but Spencer didn’t miss her at all.
An hour later, after Spencer’s friends had gone home, she made the call setting up the appointment to visit Kelsey the following day. Then she sat on the living room couch, absently stroking Beatrice’s matted fur. For once, the house was dead quiet. Amelia’s orchestra group wasn’t rehearsing today. Spencer wondered what the songs would sound like with one violinist missing.
When the home phone rang, Spencer started so hugely her whole body twitched. Princeton Admissions Board, the Caller ID said. She stared at it for a moment, afraid to pick it up. This was it. The big decision of the Spencers had been made.