Spencer let out a shaky breath. Alexandra Pratt had been a senior when Spencer and Ali were sixth-graders. As the captain of the varsity field hockey team, Alexandra had been the main student judge for JV tryouts. At Rosewood Day, sixth-graders were allowed to try out for JV, but only one would make the team any given year. Ali boasted she might have a leg up because she’d practiced with Alexandra and the other older players a couple of times in the fall, but Spencer had simply laughed it off—Ali wasn’t nearly as good as she was.
For whatever reason, Alexandra didn’t like Spencer. She was constantly critiquing Spencer’s dribbling skills and telling her she held her hockey stick wrong—as if Spencer hadn’t spent every single summer at field hockey camp, learning from the very best of the best. When the team was announced and Ali’s name was on the list and Spencer’s wasn’t, Spencer stormed home in disbelief and rage, not bothering to wait for Ali to walk with her. “You can always try out next year,” Ali simpered to Spencer on the phone later. “And c’mon, Spence. You can’t be the best at everything.”
And then she’d giggled gleefully. That very night, Ali had begun hanging her brand-new JV uniform in her bedroom window, knowing that Spencer would look out and see it.
It wasn’t just field hockey. Everything between Spencer and Ali had been a competition. In seventh grade, they’d made a bet about who could hook up with the most older boys. Although neither of them would come out and say it, they both knew their number one target was Ian. Every time they were at Spencer’s house and Melissa and Ian were there too, Ali made a point of walking by Ian, hiking up her field hockey shirt or standing up straighter to stick out her boobs.
She certainly hadn’t acted like she thought Ian was perverted. Alexandra Pratt obviously had her facts wrong.
A bus roared into the drop-off lane, making Spencer jump. Aria was staring at her curiously. “Why are you asking that, anyway?”
Spencer swallowed hard. Tell them, she thought. But her mouth clamped closed.
“Just curious,” she finally answered. She sighed heavily. “I wish there was something we could find—something concrete that would put Ian away for good.”
Hanna kicked at a hard clump of snow. “Yeah, but what?”
“This morning, Ali kept saying I was missing something,” Spencer said thoughtfully. “Like a big piece of evidence.”
“Ali?” Sunlight glinted sharply off Emily’s small silver hoop earrings.
“I had a dream about her,” Spencer explained, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Actually, there were two Alis in the dream. One Ali was in sixth grade, and one Ali was in seventh. They both were pissed at me, acting like there was something really obvious that I wasn’t seeing. They said it was up to me…and that soon it would be too late.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ease her pounding tension headache.
Aria chewed on her thumbnail. “I had a dream about Ali a couple of months ago that was a lot like that. It was right when we realized she’d been secretly dating Ian, and she kept saying, The truth is right in front of you, the truth is right in front of you.”
“And I had that dream about Ali in the hospital,” Hanna reminded them. “She was standing right over me. She kept telling me to stop worrying. That she was okay.”
A cold shiver ran down Spencer’s spine. She exchanged a glance with the others, trying to swallow the enormous lump in her throat.
More buses pulled up to the curb. Little kids skipped down the elementary sidewalks, their lunch boxes swinging, all of them talking at once. Spencer thought again of how Ian had smirked at her yesterday and then disappeared into the trees. It was almost like he thought this was all a game.
Just a few more hours, she reminded herself. The D.A. would get Ian to cave and admit he’d killed Ali after all. Maybe he’d even get Ian to confess to taunting Spencer and the others, pretending to be a new A. Ian had a lot of money—he could hire a whole team of A spies and direct the whole operation from house arrest. And it made sense why he was sending notes: He didn’t want any of them to testify against him. He wanted to scare Spencer into recanting her statement, into saying she hadn’t seen Ian with Ali that night she disappeared. That she had really made it all up.
“I’m glad Ian gets locked up again after today,” Emily breathed out. “We can all relax at the benefit tomorrow.”
“I’m not going to feel calm until he’s gone for good,” Spencer answered, her throat thick with tears. Her voice carried up beyond the gnarled tree branches, high into the turquoise blue winter sky. She twisted a lock of hair around her finger until it almost snapped. Only a few more hours, she repeated. But those few hours suddenly seemed like an eternity.
22 DÉJÀ VU ALL OVER AGAIN
Hanna shrugged out of her red Chloé leather jacket and tossed it into her locker as Dvorak’s New World Symphony played loudly over the Rosewood Day hallway speakers. Naomi, Riley, and Kate were next to her, chattering about all the boys who had gotten instant crushes on Kate.
“Maybe you should keep your options open,” Naomi was saying, draining the last little bit of her hazelnut cappuccino. “Eric Kahn is really sexy, but Mason Byers is the catch of Rosewood Day. Whenever he opens his mouth I want to tear off his clothes.” Mason’s family had lived in Sydney for ten years, so he spoke with a slight Australian accent. He sounded like he’d spent his whole life on a sun-soaked beach.
“Mason’s on the volleyball team.” Riley’s eyes lit up. “I saw a yearbook proof of him at a recent tournament—he had his shirt off. Gor-geous.”
“Doesn’t the volleyball team practice after school?” Naomi rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Maybe we all should make a special appearance as Mason’s personal cheering section.” She looked at Kate for approval.
Kate gave her a high five. “I’m game.” She turned to Hanna. “What do you think, Han? You in?”
Hanna looked back and forth between them, flustered. “I have to leave school early today…. I have that trial thing.”
“Oh.” Kate’s face clouded. “Right.”
Hanna waited, expecting Kate to say something more, but she, Naomi, and Riley just went back to gossiping about Mason. Hanna pressed her nails into her palm, feeling the teensiest bit hurt. Part of her had figured they’d come with her to Ian’s trial as a show of moral support. Naomi was in the middle of cracking a joke about the size of Mason Byers’s didgeridoo when Hanna felt someone tapping her shoulder.
“Hanna?” Lucas’s face swam in front of her. As usual, he was carrying various paraphernalia from the clubs he took part in—a schedule for future chemistry club meetings, a list of names for the Stop Putting Sugary Drinks in the Vending Machine petition he was trying to get passed, and a blazer lapel pin that said Future Politicians of America. “What’s up?”
Hanna wearily pushed a lock of hair over her shoulder. Kate, Naomi, and Riley glanced at them and moved a few feet away. “Not much,” she mumbled.
There was an awkward pause. Out of the corner of her eye, Hanna noticed Jenna Cavanaugh slipping into an empty classroom, her dog in tow. Every time Hanna saw Jenna around Rosewood Day, an uncomfortable sensation surged through her.
“I missed you yesterday,” Lucas was saying. “I ended up not going to the mall—I wanted to wait to go with you.”
“Uh-huh,” Hanna murmured, only half listening. Her gaze moved to Kate and the others. They were now at the end of the hall near the Watercolor II class exhibit, whispering and chuckling. Hanna wondered what was so funny.