Sara Shepard - Toxic

Ali. Emily barreled forward, catching her by her sleeve. Ali kicked and bucked, her hands outstretched for the doorknob. Finally, she swung around and glared at Emily, her features twisted and furious and unbearably ugly. She opened her mouth and sank her teeth into Emily’s arm.

Emily let out a yelp and released her grip. With a laugh, Ali slipped free. Emily reached to grab her again, but suddenly, all she was holding was Ali’s hooded sweatshirt, the zipper undone, both sides flapping free.

Emily lunged for the door, but Ali had slammed it behind her so forcefully that it swung inward, cracking Emily on the head. Emily staggered back, seeing stars. It took her a few seconds to regroup. Then she rushed into the hall.

There was no one there. No sound of footsteps, either. No wet footprints leading in a direction, even.

Emily stared right and left, feeling like she was going crazy. Ali had vanished into thin air.

Water dripped off her fingertips, making puddles on the ground. She ran her hands down the length of her face, suddenly realizing she was still in her bathing suit and swim cap. Then she noticed how freezing she was. She inspected the sides of her neck, wincing at the tender spots where Ali had squeezed. She took a step to the left, and then to the right, and then sank down to the ground, horribly dizzy.

Ali had escaped. Again. But she’d sent a message, all right. Loud and clear. And next time, Emily wasn’t sure if Ali would let her live.

Hanna stood in the middle of an empty soundstage, studying her Naomi lines, which a production assistant had printed out and highlighted for her earlier that day. Hank, Burn It Down ’s director, had dismissed the cast and crew for the day because filming during a lightning storm was dangerous, but Hanna had decided to hang back for a while to practice. She wanted to be perfect for her next big scene. Even though Hank had told her she was doing a great job, she still felt like a little bit of a fraud. She was acting opposite people who had so much experience . . . and her only claims to fame were doing a PSA and being tormented by Ali. “And that’s why we’re not friends anymore, Hanna Marin,” she said into the still, quiet room, among the idle cameras, equipment, and lights. She glared at an imaginary Hailey opposite her. In this scene, she, as Naomi, had found out about Hanna’s almost killing her cousin in a car accident. “Because you’re crazy . And you’re a liar. And there’s only so much a girl can take.”

Then she imagined Hailey’s response. Would Hailey use that ditzy voice again? Snap that imaginary gum? Earlier, Hailey had performed yet another scene as Hanna, and it was just as dreadful as the other day. To Hanna’s relief, Hank had sprung up and said, “Hailey, I don’t know if you have the character right. Why don’t you do some thinking on it, and we’ll reschedule your scenes tomorrow?”

Hailey’s jaw had dropped, and her face had turned red. As soon as the sound engineer had removed her microphone, she’d stormed over to Hanna. “Do you think I’m doing a good job? Because your opinion is the only one that matters.”

It had been Hanna’s chance to say something, but she’d felt so cornered. She’d given Hailey a closed-mouth smile and nodded feverishly, not trusting her voice.

Hanna repeated her lines again and again, tinkering with her movements and blocking. On the third try, she even felt her eyes well with tears. I am kind of good at this , she thought, feeling satisfied. Then she gathered up her things and slipped out the side door.

Even though it was only five o’clock, the sky was surprisingly pitch-black. Wind swirled, kicking up dry leaves, and the rain pelted down in sideways sheets. Hanna peered down the long alley that led to the parking lot. It seemed full of shadows, and all at once, she thought she heard a faint sniff. She whipped around, looking this way and that, but the alley was empty.

Taking a deep breath, she started down the metal ramp to her car. Halfway down the alley, she felt herself hurtle forward, and suddenly she was on the ground. Her palms stung from the impact, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She scrambled to her knees and looked up, but all she saw was the almost-black sky above. She looked at the ground again and gasped. There, written on the pavement, was a message in chalk. BreAk a leg, Hanna , it said. The a in break was capitalized, bigger than the other letters.

“What do you want?”

Hanna screamed. Someone else was in the alley, their body in shadow. When the figure moved into the light, Hanna realized it was Daniel, Hank’s strange assistant—the one who’d practically snuck into Hailey’s dressing room to retrieve them a few days before.

“W-what are you doing here?” Hanna bleated. He’d come out of nowhere . “Did you shove me?”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed, and they looked even more beady and hollow than ever. “No, but I saw you fall. You shouldn’t be here right now, Hanna. Hank sent everyone home.”

Then why are you here? Hanna wanted to ask, but she didn’t. “I—I was just going over my lines,” she said weakly, jumping to her feet. She glanced down at the chalk A again, her heart pounding hard. “And I’m leaving now.”

“Good.” Daniel was looking at her with an expression Hanna couldn’t quite identify. “A girl like you shouldn’t be alone anywhere. After everything that’s happened to you, I would have thought you’d be more careful.”

Hanna nodded, then scuttled to her car. It was only once she’d locked the doors that she realized that his expression had kind of been ominous. She thought again about the flash of blond hair in the crowd scene the other day. Could Daniel have helped her, somehow? Could an Ali Cat be on the Burn It Down crew?

Hanna’s phone beeped, and she screamed again. She glanced at it in her lap.

Ali just attacked me at school, said a message from Emily. Come now!

Hanna threw the car into drive, her mind suddenly switching gears. She certainly couldn’t worry about Daniel right now. All she could think about was getting to Emily as fast as she could.

The sky was an ugly gray and the air was peppered with low rumbles of thunder when Hanna pulled into the Rosewood Day parking lot next to Emily’s Volvo. In the distance, she could see Emily sitting on one of the swings on the Lower School’s playground. Her head was down, her hair shiny and wet, and it looked like she was in a bathing suit. A nervous bolt surged through Hanna once more.

Spencer and Aria were pulling into the parking lot at the same time, and all the girls rushed toward the swings. Emily didn’t look up at them, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground. Her feet were bare and muddy. Her skin looked slightly blue. There was a hooded sweatshirt balled up in her hands, but for whatever reason, she hadn’t put it on.

“What happened?” Hanna bellowed, dropping to her knees next to her friend and touching her hand. Emily’s skin was cold and covered in goose bumps. She smelled overwhelmingly like chlorine.

“Are you okay?” Spencer sank into a swing next to her.

“Was it really her ?” Aria wrapped her arms around Emily’s shoulders.

Emily indicated a purplish bruise on her neck. “It was definitely her,” she said, her voice tinged with sobs. “She tried to kill me.”

She told the girls what had happened. With every sentence, Hanna’s heart began to bang faster. By the time Emily got to the part about Ali pushing her under the water, she could barely breathe. “I shouldn’t have swum alone,” Emily moaned when she finished. “It was the perfect place for Ali to find me.”