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“Oh.” Ali spun her initial ring around her finger. “That sounds good.”
Spencer cocked her head. “Are you okay?”
“Of course!” Ali blurted. Then she shrugged. “I just had a crappy night’s sleep last night. Jason was playing his awful music again; you know how that goes.”
Spencer flipped a page of the textbook. The grandfather clock in the hall bonged out the hour. Just as Ali’s mind started to wander into that wasteland of hysteria once more, Spencer slapped the book shut and looked at her phone. “Yes,” she whispered, tapping the screen.
Ali looked up. “What is it?”
Spencer smiled slyly. “Nothing.”
Ali shifted her chair over to get a peek, but Spencer hid the screen with her hand. Not before Ali could see Ian Thomas’s name at the top of a text message, though. “You’re texting Ian,” Ali stated.
Spencer placed her phone facedown on the table. “Maybe I am.”
Ali stared at her, shocked by the snarky, haughty tone of voice Spencer was using. That tone was reserved for her and only her. She held Spencer’s gaze for several beats. She was not going to ask Spencer about this. She was not stooping so low that she had to beg.
Just as she thought, after a few seconds, Spencer’s tough exterior cracked. “Okay, okay. You know how I’ve had that crush on Ian? He and I kissed on my driveway a little while ago.” She cuffed Ali’s arm playfully. “Which puts me ahead in the older boy–kissing competition.”
Ali kept her features composed. “Hmm,” she said tepidly.
Spencer twirled the pencil in her hands. “I think he wants me bad. He was all over me.” She gave Ali a smug little smile. “So now I’m wondering what to do. Should I call him? Wait for him to come to me? It’s going to happen again—I just know it. But I don’t know how to play things. Maybe I should invite him to your party? What do you think?”
Ali’s mouth fell open. Was Spencer serious? Did she honestly think the Ian thing was for real, that it was going to continue? He was dating her sister. She glanced at an old school picture of Melissa on the wall, for a moment feeling bad for her. Then she pictured that man reaching across and touching her mom’s face. That man who was possibly her father, some ass**le not even big enough to admit that she was his. How dare her mother never tell her this! How dare she keep it a secret from the entire family! What if Ali wanted to meet this guy, wanted to know where she truly came from? Did she matter in all this? She felt just like she did at Radley—forgotten, second-best, an impediment instead of something to nurture and cherish. Bitch.
She felt that same black, gummy nastiness she’d felt with Aria the other day ooze over her. She turned to the row of photographs along the wall instead, grabbing the big frame of Melissa’s senior picture. “That’s a pretty foul thing to do to your sister, Spence,” she said. “He’s your sister’s boyfriend.”
Spencer squinted. “So?”
Ali looked into Melissa’s eyes in the photograph. They were the same blue as her own. “I know you hate her, but that’s low, even for you.”
“But you told me to go for him!” Spencer bellowed, her voice cracking.
Ali frowned. “No, I didn’t.”
Now Spencer was on her feet. “Yes, you did! Don’t you remember Melissa’s party? You said, You should totally go for him. All’s fair in love and war.”
Ali crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I’ve changed my mind. And anyway, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
Spencer stomped over to the corner of the room and aimlessly stared out the window. The view was of Melissa’s barn. There was a light on inside; Melissa must have been home. “I really like him,” she said tremulously, her eyes suddenly glistening with tears. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”
Ali sighed and stood up. “I’d be happier if you liked someone else.”
Realization washed across Spencer’s face. “Do you like him?”
Ali shook her head sharply. “No. I just think it’s wrong. And I think you should tell Melissa what you did.”
“I can’t!”
Ali sank into one hip. “Yes, you can, Spence. And if you don’t, I will.”
Spencer’s eyes searched Ali’s face as if she’d never seen her before. After a moment, she turned to the side and let out a small shriek. “Maybe I don’t need you as a friend anymore,” she growled through gritted teeth.
Ali laughed. “C’mon, Spence. You’d be nothing without me.”
“That’s not friendship. I’m tired of you always trying to be better than me.”
Ali snorted but didn’t take the bait. “Besides, if we’re no longer friends, then I have absolutely no reason not to tell Melissa what happened. I’m only keeping my mouth shut because I care about you so very much.” She blinked innocently.
Spencer ran a hand down her forehead. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She walked over to her books, gathered them up in her arms, and marched angrily out of the room, dropping a few index cards as she went. She didn’t come back to pick them up, and Ali stared at her neat, even handwriting. Svengali, it said. Definition: person who, with evil intent, controls another person by persuasion or deceit. The Svengali may feign kindness and use manipulation to get the other person to yield his or her autonomy.
That’s me, Ali thought grimly. It’s who my family has turned me into.
