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“Don’t say that,” Aria whispered. “I’ve just been distracted, that’s all.”
“With what?” Noel demanded.
Aria’s throat bobbed. All she wanted was to exonerate him. But she couldn’t just ask for the answers.
She stared at Noel. An indentation of something showed through the pocket of his jeans. It was his cell phone. A tantalizing idea wormed its way into her mind.
She took a few moments to center herself, then stepped closer and cleared her throat. “I can’t stop thinking about what I did to you. I still feel awful because of it. And with the explosion on the boat and almost dying out at sea, I’ve been a mess, Noel.”
“Then tell me about it,” Noel said. “Don’t hide it. Don’t hold it inside and make me guess.”
“Okay,” Aria mumbled, even mustering up some tears. “I will. I promise.”
Then she pulled him into a hug. For a moment, she was afraid Noel wouldn’t hug back, but he tentatively wrapped his arms around her. Aria’s heart banged against his chest. She slid one hand down the length of his waist. Carefully, delicately, she pinched the top of the phone with two fingers and slipped it out one inch at a time, as deftly as a pickpocket. Noel shifted, but he didn’t seem to notice it was gone.
Aria dropped the phone in the big pouch of her hoodie. When they broke away, Noel was staring at her lovingly again.
She swallowed hard and gestured to the barn door. “Well, they need me back inside.”
Noel kissed her cheek. “Call me when you’re done, okay?”
“Okay,” Aria said shakily. In seconds, he was gone.
She couldn’t get back into the barn fast enough; it would only be a few minutes before Noel discovered his phone was missing. She ran to her iPad and found a USB cord inside her bag. She plugged the phone in. A window appeared asking if she wanted to transfer data to the device. She stabbed YES. Numbers flashed across the screen. In under a minute, a message popped up that the transfer was complete.
Aria yanked the phone from the USB, opened the barn door, and flung the phone into the grass. Hopefully, Noel would just think he’d dropped it.
She returned to the iPad. Noel’s texts had loaded. She scanned them quickly, not expecting to find much—if Noel was A, he’d probably use a different phone with an unlisted number. Besides the texts Noel had sent to Aria about couple stuff, most of them were to his lacrosse buddies or family members. But as she skimmed farther down the list, there was something strange. Two Februarys ago, Noel had sent a text to an unlisted number. Anything you need, it said. The unlisted number had texted back. Thanks for helping me. You know what to do.
Aria did the math. February was when Noel and Aria bonded at the séance at that head shop in Yarmouth. It was bizarre he’d even saved this text—surely he’d had an earlier-model phone back then. He must have transferred it from that phone to this one. It must have been sentimental. Could this text be from Ali? What did You know what to do mean?
Aria shut her eyes. This was all horrible conjecture. Was she really doing this? Had she lost her mind?
She clicked out of the texts, her limbs feeling heavy. Noel’s e-mails had loaded, too, but Aria no longer wanted to look at them. Then a familiar name caught her eye. Agent Jasmine Fuji. It was from just two days ago. Aria felt dizzy. But Noel had talked to her last week, right?
There wasn’t just one e-mail to Fuji, either—there were six in the thread. Words flashed before her eyes. Thank you for your thoughts. The next one: I’m very sorry you lost your friend. And the last: We will speak more soon. I was very intrigued when you said not everyone is telling me the whole truth, and I hope you can elaborate.
Someone laughed loudly behind her, and Aria dropped the iPad back to the desk. She stared around the room blearily, as if she were caught in a nightmare. Noel had lost his friend . . . as in Tabitha? Or Ali? And who did he think was lying? Aria? Was that why Fuji was frantically trying to speak with them?
She reached for her phone and punched in Spencer’s number. This was getting out of hand. It was time to admit some of this stuff to her friends. The phone rang once, then twice.
“Hello?” Spencer answered. “Aria? What’s up?”
A knock sounded on the window, and Aria jumped. Noel stood on the other side, his discarded cell phone now in his palm. He smiled at her so sweetly, so guilelessly, that Aria’s heart cracked into a million pieces.
“Aria?” Spencer’s voice came through the receiver.
Aria waved back to Noel, tears in her eyes. “Um, I—I butt-dialed you,” she said to Spencer. And then she hung up, telling her nothing.
24
Someone Slips
On Saturday afternoon, a few hours before prom, Spencer and Hanna sat in Hanna’s bedroom at her father’s house. A giant full-length mirror stood near the corner. The bed was strewn with makeup cases, hair dryers, and hair spray, and an assortment of bobby pins, clips, and curling irons lay on the floor like pickup sticks. Jewelry on loan from Spencer’s and Hanna’s moms sat on a velvet cloth on the bureau. Their gowns hung from hooks on the back of the closet doors, and their shoes sat at attention on the carpet underneath. The air smelled like perfume and that vague, chemical dry cleaning scent Spencer could never quite pin down. It made her feel a little sad that they all couldn’t be here for pre-prom prep, but no one had heard from Aria, and Emily had, bizarrely, invited Iris as her date. They were getting ready at the Fieldses’ house.
There was a knock on the door. Hanna’s father popped his head in. “How’s it going, girls? Anything I can do?”
