“Is it a problem that I’m here?” Trista asked pointedly.
Trista’s lips were the exact same pink as Emily’s favorite tutu back when she’d taken ballet. Her pale blue shift dress pulled against her shapely chest and showed the flatness of her stomach and the roundness of her butt. She was like a ripe, juicy fruit, and Emily sort of wanted to bite her. “Of course it’s not a problem you’re here,” Emily breathed.
“Good.” Trista pulled her mask over her face. “Then I’ll keep your secret.”
Once they entered the tent, Maya found Emily immediately, untied her rabbit-shaped mask, and pulled Emily close for an extra-passionate kiss. Emily opened her eyes in the middle of it, and noticed that Maya was staring directly at Trista, seemingly flaunting what she and Emily were doing. “When are you going to ditch her?” Maya whispered in Emily’s ear. Emily looked away, pretending she hadn’t heard.
As they moved through the party tent, Trista kept grabbing Emily’s arm and gasping, “It’s so beautiful! Look at all the pillows!” And, “There are so many hot guys in Pennsylvania!” And, “So many girls here wear diamonds!” Her mouth fell open like a little kid’s on her first trip to Disney World. When a crowd of kids at the bar separated them, Maya pulled off her mask.
“Was that girl raised in a hermetically sealed terrarium?” Maya’s eyes bugged out. “Honestly, why does she find everything so amazing?”
Emily glanced at Trista as she leaned up against the bar. Noel Kahn had approached her and was now seductively running his hand up and down Trista’s arm. “She’s just excited to be here,” she mumbled. “Things are pretty boring in Iowa.”
Maya cocked her head and stood back. “It’s quite a coincidence that you have a pen pal in the exact same Iowa town you were banished to last week.”
“Not really,” Emily croaked, staring at the shimmering disco ball in the middle of the tent. “She’s from the same town as my cousins, so Rosewood Day did an exchange with her school. We started writing a couple years ago.”
Maya mushed her lips together, her jaw tense. “She’s awfully pretty. Did you pick pen pals by their pictures?”
“It wasn’t, like, Match.com.” Emily shrugged, trying to act oblivious.
Maya gave her a knowing look. “It would make sense if you did. You loved Alison DiLaurentis, and Trista looks a lot like her.”
Emily tensed up, her eyes flicking back and forth. “No, she doesn’t.”
Maya looked away. “Whatever.”
Emily considered her next words very carefully. “That banana gum you chew, Maya. Where do you get it?”
Maya looked confused. “My father brought me a carton from London.”
“Can you get it in the States? Do you know anyone else who chews it?” Emily’s heart pounded.
Maya stared at her. “Why the hell are you asking me about banana gum?” Before Emily could answer, Maya turned away. “Look, I’m going to go to the bathroom, okay? Don’t go anywhere without me. We can talk when I get back.”
Emily watched Maya snake through the baccarat tables, feeling like she had hot coals in her stomach. Almost immediately, Trista emerged from the crowd, holding three plastic cups. “They’re spiked,” she whispered excitedly, pointing to Noel, who was still standing by the bar. “That boy had a flask of something and gave me some.” She looked around. “Where’s Maya?”
Emily shrugged. “Off being pissy.”
Trista had removed her mask, and her skin glowed in the flashing dance floor lights. With her pursed, pink lips, her wide, blue eyes, and high cheekbones, maybe she did look a little like Ali. Emily shook her head and reached for one of the cups—she would drink this first, figure out everything else later. Trista’s finger ran seductively down Emily’s wrist. Emily tried to keep her face impassive, even though she felt like she was about to melt.
“So, if you were a color right now, what color would you be?” Trista whispered.
Emily looked away.
“I’d be red,” Trista whispered. “But…not a mad red. Like a deep, dark, beautiful sexy red. A lusty red.”
“I think I’d be that color, too,” Emily admitted.
The music thumped like a pulse. Emily took a long, needy drink, her nose tickling with the spicy flavor of rum. When Trista curled her hand around Emily’s, Emily’s heart jumped. They moved closer, then closer still, until their lips were nearly touching. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Trista whispered.
But Emily moved closer anyway, her body rippling with excitement.
A hand smacked Emily on the back. “What the hell?”
Maya stood behind them, her nostrils flaring. Emily took a giant step away from Trista, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. “I thought you were going to the bathroom” was all Emily could think to say.
Maya blinked, her face purple with fury. Then, she turned and stormed out of the tent, pushing people out of her way.
“Maya!” Emily followed her through the doors. But just before she was about to exit, she felt a hand on her arm. It was a man she didn’t recognize in a police uniform. He had short spiky hair and a lanky build. His badge said SIMMONS.
“Are you Emily Fields?” the cop asked.
Emily nodded slowly, her heart suddenly quickening.
“I need to ask you a couple questions.” The cop placed his hand gently on Emily’s shoulder. “Have you…have you been getting some threatening messages?”
Emily’s mouth fell open. The flickering strobe lights made her woozy. “W-why?”
“Your friend Aria Montgomery told us about them this afternoon,” the cop said.
“What?” Emily shrieked.
“It’ll be okay,” the cop reassured her. “I just want to know what you know, all right? It’s probably someone you know, someone right under your nose. If you talk to us, maybe we can figure it out together.”
Emily looked out the tent’s filmy opening. Maya was darting across the grass, her heels sinking into the dirt. A horrible feeling washed over Emily. She thought of how Maya had looked at her when she said, I heard that the person who hit Hanna was stalking her. How could Maya have known that?
“I can’t talk right now,” Emily whispered, a lump growing in her throat. “I have to take care of something first.”
“I’ll be here,” the cop said, stepping aside so Emily could pass. “Take your time. I have a few other people to find anyway.”
Emily could just make out Maya’s shape running into the country club’s main building. She sprinted after her, through two glass French doors and down a long hallway. She looked through the last door at the end of the hall, which led to the indoor pool. The window had fogged up with condensation, and Emily could just make out Maya’s tiny body walking to the pool’s edge, looking at her reflection.
She pushed her way in and walked around a small tiled wall separating the entryway from the pool. The pool’s water was flat and dead, and the air was thick and humid. Even though Maya had surely heard Emily come in, she didn’t turn around. If things had been different, Emily might jokingly have pushed her in the water, then jumped in too. She cleared her throat. “Maya, the Trista thing isn’t what it looks like.”
“No?” Maya peeked over her shoulder. “It looked pretty obvious to me.”
“It’s just…she’s fun,” Emily admitted. “She doesn’t put any pressure on me.”
“And I do?” Maya shrieked, whirling around. Tears streamed down her face.
Emily swallowed hard, gathering her strength. “Maya…have you been sending me…text messages? Notes? Have you been…spying on me?”
Maya’s brow crinkled. “Why would I spy on you?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Emily started. “But if you are…the police know.”
Maya slowly shook her head. “You’re not making any sense.”
“I won’t tell if it’s you,” Emily pleaded. “I just want to know why.”
Maya shrugged, then let out a little whimper of frustration. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” A tear streaked down her face. She shook her head, disgusted. “I love you,” she spat. “And I thought you loved me.” She turned around, yanked the pool’s glass door open, then slammed it shut.
The pool’s overhead lights dimmed, turning the reflections coming off the pool from whitish-gold to orangish-yellow. Beads of humid sweat gathered on the top of the diving board. All of a sudden, the realization hit Emily, like the shock of diving into ice-cold water on an already cold day. Of course Maya wasn’t A. A had set all this up for Maya to look suspicious, so things would be ruined between the two of them forever.
Her cell phone buzzed. Emily grabbed for it, her hands shaking.
Emmykins:
There’s a girl waiting for you in the hot tub. Enjoy!—A
Emily let her phone drop to her side, her heart pounding. The hot tub was separated from the rest of the room by a partition, and it had its own door that led back out to the hall. Emily crept slowly to the hot tub. It bubbled like a cauldron, and mist rose off the water’s surface. Suddenly, she noticed a flash of red in the bubbly water and jumped back in terror. Looking again, she realized it was only a doll floating facedown, its long red hair fanned out around it.
She reached in and pulled the doll out. It was an Ariel doll from The Little Mermaid. The doll had scaly green and purple fins, but instead of a clamshell bikini, Ariel wore a sleek racing suit that said ROSEWOOD DAY SHARKS across the boobs. There were X’s over her eyes, as if she’d drowned, and there was something written in thick marker across her forehead.
Tell and die.—A
Emily’s hands started to shake, and she dropped the doll on the slick, tiled floor. As she stepped away from the hot tub’s edge, a door slammed.
Emily shot up, her eyes wide. “Who’s there?” she whispered.
Silence.
She stepped out from the hot tub partition and looked around. There was no one in the pool area. She couldn’t see around the tiled wall that hid the front door, but she saw a distinct shadow on the far wall. Someone was here with her.
Emily heard a giggle and jumped. Then a hand flew out from behind the tiled wall. A blond ponytail appeared, then another pair of hands, larger and masculine, with a silver Rolex dangling from one wrist.
Noel Kahn emerged first, darting from behind the wall to one of the nearby chaises. “Come on,” he whispered. Then the blonde scampered to him. It was Trista. They lay down on the chaise together and resumed kissing.
Emily was so stunned, she burst out laughing. Trista and Noel glanced at her. Trista’s mouth fell open, but then she shrugged, as if to say, Hey, you weren’t around. Emily suddenly thought of Abby’s warning—Trista Taylor tries to hump anything that moves, girl or guy. She had a feeling Trista wouldn’t be camping out on Emily’s bedroom floor tonight after all.
