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Spencer waded toward them, ready to pluck the jellyfish from Melissa’s leg and tell her that it was just a toy when Colin knelt down, peeled the thing off, and chucked it into the waves. He scooped up Melissa, who was now a blubbering mess, and carried her out of the water and up the dunes. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry.” Melissa lay her head on Colin’s shoulder.
Something bobbed at Spencer’s feet, and she looked down and saw that the fake jellyfish had found its way back to her. She picked it up by its tentacle and returned it to Snorkel Boy, who was watching her from a few feet away. “I play tricks like that on my sister, too,” he said gleefully.
Great, Spencer thought as she slogged out of the water and stomped to her towel. Her get-him-back strategies were on par with a middle-school boy’s.
Chapter 12
Something Blue . . .
It was drizzling the following morning when Spencer made her way onto the patio with a cup of coffee, a bowl of Kashi GoLean, and a fresh Florida grapefruit. Her mother was sitting at the table surrounded by a bunch of paints and brushes, a cup of cloudy water, and a terrs-cotta ceramic mug Spencer knew she’d bought at the pottery store in town. She had a tradition of painting a piece of pottery every time she visited Longboat Key. She always stashed the finished artwork in Nana’s cabinet, but Spencer doubted that Nana actually used them.
“Hey, Spence.” Mrs. Hastings painted a blue stripe around the lip of the mug. “Want to paint one of these? I bought a few extra bowls.”
“Uh, sure. Just a sec.” Spencer’s ears suddenly pricked up as she heard her sister moving around upstairs. Melissa had a very anal morning routine: When she was ready for her shower, she carried in a wire caddy from her bedroom full of her face and hair products—she probably thought Spencer might steal a dollop here and there if she left the stuff unattended. Spencer had hatched a new sabotage plan, and she needed to get her hands on Melissa’s caddy in a very narrow window of time.
She set down her coffee and cereal and crept back up the stairs. The shower was running in the hall bathroom, but Melissa had stepped back into her bedroom to gather up her clothes as she did every morning. Spencer slipped into the bathroom, spied Melissa’s caddy, and grabbed the bottle of Pureology shampoo. Unscrewing the cap, she poured in several heaping drops of blue hair dye she’d found in Nana’s cabinet. It wasn’t old-lady blue, though, but deep, Manic Panic, Katy Perry blue, the kind Aria had once used to color a thick lock of her own hair as a statement in seventh grade. Who knew why Nana owned such a garish color. Spencer probably didn’t want to know.
She had just twisted the cap back on the shampoo bottle and edged out of the bathroom when Melissa’s bedroom door flung open and Melissa appeared in the hall. She glared at Spencer suspiciously. “What are you doing up here?”
Spencer sniffed. “My room’s up here, too.”
She was about to turn away when Melissa gave Spencer a saccharine smile. “Look, Spence, I know you’re annoyed about Colin. But he and I are much more suited to each other. We’re at the same place in life. There’s no reason for you to get nasty. That little Ian stunt you pulled yesterday? Totally not cool.”
It took everything in Spencer’s power not to smother her with one of Nana’s monogrammed bed pillows. Totally not cool? Did Melissa understand that it was totally not cool to steal the guy Spencer was after, too? And didn’t she know it was totally not cool to pretend to be on Spencer’s side before stabbing her in the back?
Before Spencer could say another word, Melissa stepped into the steamy bathroom and slammed the door shut. Seconds later, the shower curtain rattled closed. Whirling around, Spencer sauntered back downstairs to the patio. Her mother had paused from mug-decorating and was looking at a photo on her iPad. It was a picture of Mrs. DiLaurentis and Ali. They were standing in the Hastingses’ backyard at a family barbecue. Spencer’s dad was in the corner of the frame, handing Ali’s mom a grilled hamburger.
“Why are you looking at that?” Spencer asked.
Her mother jumped and minimized the screen. “I, uh, was just scrolling through old photos on our Kodak account. There are so many we need to delete.”
“Mom . . .” Spencer fiddled with a spare liner brush on the table. “Is something bothering you about the DiLaurentises?”
Her mother’s mouth opened and closed just as a scream pierced the air. A moment later, Melissa burst onto the patio in a terry-cloth robe that said WALDORF-ASTORIA, NEW YORK CITY on the breast. Her eyes were wild, her skin was still wet, and her dripping hair was a brilliant shade of sapphire. It was even more vibrant and extreme than Spencer could have hoped for.
“Melissa!” Spencer’s mother was so surprised she shot to her feet. “What on earth . . . ?”
Melissa pointed at Spencer. “You did this. You put something in my shampoo.”
Spencer shook her head innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You probably just picked up one of Nana’s shampoos by mistake.”
“You’re such a liar.” Melissa shook her blue head, her hands quaking with rage. “A pathetic, jealous liar.”
“It’s a good look for you,” Spencer simpered, fiddling with her paintbrush. “And you never know, maybe Colin is into Smurfs.”
Melissa let out a piercing groan. Turning to her right, she snatched an unpainted bowl from the table and hurled it at Spencer. Spencer ducked just in time, and the pottery smashed against the brick pavers.
