Lola stirred, and Meredith grabbed a pink pacifier from the table and popped it into the baby’s mouth. “I was afraid the secret would get out. I was terrified your mom would catch us.”
“But she was going to find out eventually,” Aria pointed out.
“I know, but I didn’t want to be the one to break the news.” Meredith pressed her fingers to her temple. “I really didn’t set out to destroy anyone’s life, I swear. It might not have seemed like it, but I had a very hard time with what we were doing.”
Aria shut her eyes. She wanted to believe Meredith, but she wasn’t sure if she could.
“You know, I saw you when you discovered me and Byron kissing in his car,” Meredith said softly. “I saw the look on your face, how devastated you were.”
Aria turned away, that horrible memory flooding back to her.
“I felt terrible about it. I wanted to explain myself. But I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me.”
“You’re right,” Aria admitted. “I wouldn’t have.”
“And then you started showing up everywhere,” Meredith went on. “You came to the yoga studio—I recognized you right away. Then you showed up at my art class. You threw paint at me, remember?”
“Uh huh,” Aria mumbled, staring at the floor. She’d drawn a red scarlet A for “adultress” on Meredith’s dress. It seemed so immature now.
Neither of them said anything for a while. Meredith retied her ponytail. Aria stared at the ragged edges of her fingernails. Lola let out a loud burp in her sleep, the pacifier tumbling from her mouth. Aria giggled. Meredith laughed, too, then let out a long sigh. “It’s not fun to keep secrets,” she said. “But sometimes you have to do it to protect yourself. And to protect people around you.”
For the first time ever, Aria agreed with Meredith. Protecting someone was exactly what she was doing by not telling Noel about his dad’s cross-dressing. Just hearing it put that way made her feel better about her decision.
Meredith opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle for Lola. “I have to tell you, though. I felt like crap when your friend called me and chewed me out.”
Aria frowned. “What friend?”
“You know. The friend you were with that day you saw us. Alison.”
A chilly jolt whizzed through Aria’s veins. “Wait. She called you?”
Meredith cocked her head. “She called me a while after you guys caught us in the car—sometime in June. She asked me all these questions about me and your dad—if we were in love, when we started dating, if we’d done it yet. She made me feel awful.” She searched Aria’s face. “You didn’t put her up to it?”
“No . . .” Ali had tormented Aria about Meredith constantly, but she’d never told Aria that she’d called Meredith behind her back. What had Ali expected to accomplish? And why had she waited until June to call her? Aria and Ali had caught Meredith and Byron in April.
Suddenly, a horrible thought popped into her mind. “When in June did Alison call you?”
Meredith drummed her fingers on the table. “The morning of the fifteenth. I remember it because it was my brother’s birthday. I thought it was him calling, but it was her.”
The room began to spin. June fifteenth. That was the day of their end-of-seventh-grade sleepover with Their Ali. According to the events pieced together by letters, testimonies, public documents, and the police investigation, the secret DiLaurentis sister had been picked up from the Preserve the day before. An unhappy family reunion had occurred. Two twins who hated each other were together again.
The day of the sleepover, Aria, Spencer, Hanna, and Emily had gone into Ali’s room and discovered her sitting there, reading what looked like her diary with a big smile on her face. To this day, Aria wondered if it had been Their Ali in her bedroom . . . or her twin.
“Aria? Are you okay?”
Aria jumped. Meredith was staring at her with round blue eyes. Aria nodded faintly, feeling woozy. Ali had called Meredith all those years ago, all right—but it might not have been to make Meredith feel bad. It could have been to dig for dirt. And it wasn’t Her Ali, either.
It was Real Ali.
14
CATCHING UP
Thursday night, Emily walked into Belissima, the Italian bistro at the Devon Crest Mall across town, where she was meeting Isaac for dinner. The restaurant floor was made of bronze-colored terra-cotta tile, and the walls were painted to look as if they were part of an old, crumbling farmhouse. A shiny brass espresso machine sat behind the counter, bottles of wine were lined up on shelves around the big room, and the air smelled pungently of olive oil and mozzarella. Emily hadn’t been to this mall since two Christmases ago, when she’d agreed to be the mall’s Santa. She’d come to this restaurant with Cassie, one of Santa’s elves, and they’d bonded over their friendships with Ali.