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Right after Time Capsule was announced, Aria slipped Byron’s signed copy of Slaughterhouse-Five in her knapsack—one of the things she’d read about Jason in an old yearbook was how much he loved Kurt Vonnegut. Aria’s heart pounded as she waited for Jason to emerge from the Journalism Barn after his Principles of Newspaper Writing class. When she saw him, she reached into her bag for the book, hoping to show it to him as he walked by. When Jason found out Aria liked Vonnegut too, maybe he’d realize they were soul mates.
But Mrs. Wagner, the high school’s head secretary, cut in front of Aria at the last minute and grabbed Jason’s arm. There was an important call for him in the office. “A girl,” Mrs. Wagner explained. Jason’s face clouded. He brushed past Aria without even looking at her. Aria dropped the book back into her bag, embarrassed. The girl on the phone was probably Jason’s age and stunningly beautiful, while Aria was just some sixth-grade freak. The day after that, Aria, Emily, Spencer, and Hanna had all shown up in Ali’s backyard at the same time. They’d clearly all had the same hope and plan: to snag Ali’s Time Capsule flag. By that point, Aria didn’t care so much about stealing Ali’s flag—she just wanted another opportunity to see Jason. Little did she know at the time that she’d finally get her wish. Xavier pulled up the old BMW’s brake, jolting Aria back to reality. They were in a parking space right in front of Rosewood Day. “I still don’t feel like people get me,” Aria concluded, staring at the stately brick school in front of them. “Even now.”
“Well, maybe that’s because you’re an artist,” Xavier said gently. “Artists never feel understood. But that’s what makes you special.”
Aria ran her fingers along the sides of her yak-fur bag. “Thanks,” she said, really appreciating his words. Then she added with a smirk, “Wolfgang.”
Xavier winced. “Later.” He waved and drove away.
Aria watched as his BMW snaked down the long drive and out to the street. Then, she heard what sounded like a giggle, close in her ear. She whipped around, trying to figure out where it was coming from, but no one was looking at her. The school’s parking lot was packed with kids. Devon Arliss and Mason Byers were trying to shove each other into a dirty patch of slush. Scott Chin, the yearbook photographer, was aiming his camera at the gnarled bare upper branches of a tree, and beyond him, Jenna Cavanaugh and her guide dog were standing on the slippery walk. Jenna’s head was held high, her pale skin shone, and her dark hair fanned out over her red wool trench. If it weren’t for the white cane and the service dog, Jenna would’ve been a gorgeous Typical Rosewood.
Jenna had paused just a few yards from Aria, seemingly staring right at her.
Aria paused for a moment. “Hi, Jenna,” she called quietly.
Jenna cocked her head—not hearing, and certainly not seeing—before she pulled on the dog’s collar and continued down the path into the school.
Goose bumps began to rise up on Aria’s arms and legs, and an icy shiver went from the top of her head all the way down to her feet. Even though it was frigid outside, Aria was pretty sure neither response was due to the weather.
17
OH, THE SACRIFICES TO BE POPULAR
“Something about Kirsten Cullen looks fatter,” Naomi whispered in Hanna’s ear. “Is it her upper arms?”
“Definitely,” Hanna whispered back. “But that’s what happens when you drink full-calorie beer at Christmas parties.” She watched as Sienna Morgan, a pretty sophomore, walked past, her prized monogrammed Vuitton tote swinging. “And you guys know the truth about Sienna’s bag, right?” She looked around at the others, pausing for dramatic effect. “She got it at an outlet.”
Naomi clapped her hand over her mouth. Riley stuck out her tongue, disgusted. Kate flicked her chestnut hair over her shoulder, reaching inside her own, bona fide Vuitton bag for lipstick. “I hear the stuff at outlets is fake,” Kate murmured.
It was Thursday morning before school, and Hanna was sitting with Kate, Naomi, and Riley at Steam’s best table. Classical music began to play over the loudspeakers, which meant it was time to get moving to homeroom. Hanna and Kate stood up and linked arms, and Naomi and Riley brought up the rear. They were a four-girl parade, with a small entourage of guys following. Hanna’s auburn hair bounced. Naomi looked fashion-forward in her forest green ankle boots. Normally flat-chested Riley looked rather buxom today, thanks to the Wonderbra they’d made her get at the King James yesterday. It had definitely been the best shopping spree Hanna had been on in a long time. No wonder the small knot of sophomore girls by the lost-and-found were gazing at them with envy. No wonder Noel Kahn, Mike Montgomery, James Freed, and the rest of the lacrosse team had been ogling them from a table at the back of the café. Only a handful of hours had passed since Hanna apologized to Naomi and Riley, but everyone in school already understood that they were the people to envy, the girls to know. And it felt so frickin’ good.
Suddenly, Hanna felt a hand on her arm. “Do you have a sec?”
Spencer twitched against the lockers. Her dirty-blond hair was pulled off her face and her eyes darted back and forth. It seemed as if the little mechanical key in her back had been wound way too tight. “Uh, I’m busy,” Hanna said, trying walk past.
Spencer pulled her into the water fountain alcove anyway. Kate glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow, but Hanna waved her on. She turned back to her old friend. “God, what?” she snapped.
