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“I, um, think Ella is still at the gallery,” Aria said. “She had to work a private show.”
Xavier took a step into the room. “I know. We had coffee before she had to go back. There’s no electricity at my place, though—I guess ice knocked down some power lines. She said I could hang out here until we’re sure it’s back on.” He grinned. “Is that okay? I could make dinner.”
Aria ran her hands through her hair. “Sure,” she said, trying to act natural. Things were fine between them, after all. She scooted to the corner of the couch and put the bowl of cheese curls on the coffee table. “You want to sit?”
Xavier plopped down two cushions away. The news was walking through their projection of the night of Ali’s murder, complete with reenactments. “Ten thirty P.M., Alison and Spencer Hastings get into an argument. Alison leaves the barn,” a voice-over said. The girl who played Spencer looked pinched and sour. The petite blond girl who played Ali wasn’t nearly as pretty as the real Ali was. “Ten forty P.M., Melissa Hastings wakes up from a nap and notices that Ian Thomas is missing.” The girl who played Spencer’s sister looked like she was about thirty-five.
Xavier looked at her hesitantly. “Your mom said you were with Alison that night.”
Aria winced and nodded. “Ten fifty P.M., Ian Thomas and Alison are near the hole in the DiLaurentises’ backyard,” continued the voice-over. A shadowy Ian fought with Ali. “It’s alleged that there was a struggle, Thomas pushed DiLaurentis in and was back inside the house by eleven-oh-five.”
“I’m so sorry,” Xavier said softly. “I can’t even imagine what this must be like.”
Aria bit her lip, hugging one of the couch’s chenille throw pillows to her chest.
Xavier scratched his head. “I gotta say, I was really surprised when they announced Ian Thomas was their suspect. It seems like that kid had it all.”
Aria bristled. So what if Ian was a groomed, well-mannered rich kid? It didn’t make him a saint.
“Well, he did,” Aria snapped. “End of story.”
Xavier nodded sheepishly. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. Goes to show that you don’t really know anything about anyone, huh?”
“You can say that again,” Aria groaned.
Xavier took a long sip from his water bottle. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Aria stared blankly across the room. Her mother still hadn’t taken down any of the family photos with Byron in them, including Aria’s favorite, one of all four of them standing on the edge of the Gullfoss waterfall in Iceland. They’d walked all the way out to the slippery edge of the cliff above the waterfall.
“You could beam me back to Iceland,” Aria said wistfully. “Because, unlike you and my brother, I loved it there. Puny horses and all.”
Xavier smirked. His eyes twinkled. “Actually, I have a secret for you. I really like Iceland too. I said that stuff to get on Mike’s good side.”
Aria’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe it!” She smacked him with her pillow. “You’re such a kiss-ass!”
Xavier grabbed the pillow on his side of the couch and held it menacingly over his head. “A kiss-ass, huh? You’d better take that back!”
“Okay, okay.” Aria giggled, raising a finger. “Truce.”
“It’s too late for that,” Xavier cackled.
He lowered down to his knees, his face close. Too close. And all of a sudden, his lips were pressed to hers.
It took Aria a few stunned seconds to realize what was going on. Her eyes bulged. Xavier held her shoulders, his hands digging into her skin. Aria let out a small squeak and wrenched her head away. “What the hell?” she gasped.
Xavier shot back. For a moment, Aria was too baffled to move. Then she shot up as fast as she could.
“Aria…” Xavier’s face crumpled. “Wait. I’m…”
She couldn’t answer. Her knees buckled out from under her, and she nearly twisted her ankle as she climbed off the couch. “Aria!” Xavier called again.
But Aria kept going. As she reached the top of the stairs, her Treo, which was sitting on the desk in her bedroom, started to chime. One new text message, the screen taunted.
Gasping, she pounced on it and opened it up. The text was one simple word: Gotcha!
And, as usual, it was punctuated with a crisp, concise letter A.
21
SPENCER HOLDS HER BREATH
The flyer was pinned above the bike rack for everyone to see. Time Capsule Starts Tomorrow, it said in big black letters. Get ready!
The final bell of the day rang. Spencer noticed Aria sitting on the stone wall, scribbling. Hanna stood next to Scott Chin, her cheeks round and puffy. Emily was whispering to some other swimmers, Mona Vanderwaal was unlocking her scooter, and Toby Cavanaugh was crouched under a distant tree, shoving a stick into a small pile of dirt.
Ali pushed through the crowd and snatched down the flyer. “Jason’s hiding one of the pieces. And he’s going to tell me where it is.”
Everyone cheered. Ali pranced through the throng of kids and gave Spencer a high five. Which was startling—Ali had never paid attention to Spencer before, even though they lived next to each other.
But today, it appeared they were friends. Ali bumped Spencer’s hip. “Aren’t you excited for me?”
“Uh, sure,” Spencer stammered.
Ali narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to try and steal it, are you?”
Spencer shook her head. “No! Absolutely not!”
