Sara Shepard - Ruthless

Kate raked her hand through her long chestnut hair. “What does the competition think about the flash mobs?” Yet again, she stared straight at Hanna.

Hanna’s skin prickled. “How should I know?”

Kate shrugged. “I wasn’t asking you specifically.”

Biting her lip, Hanna reviewed the various times she’d been with Liam. Had Kate seen them at the church after all? Did she know ?

Hanna stared at her. Kate stared back as if daring Hanna to blink. Sean tugged on his collar, his gaze ping-ponging between the girls. Mr. Marin shifted his weight, one eyebrow raised. “What’s going on, girls?”

“Nothing,” Hanna said quickly.

“Don’t ask me.” Kate threw up her hands. “ She’s the one acting weird.”

Suddenly, Hanna felt overwhelmed. She was hiding way too much. “Um, I have to . . .” Hanna jumped up from the couch and ran toward the door. Kate let out a half sniff, half sigh behind her.

She rushed down the hall and paused outside the powder room, noticing a half-unpacked box and something propped on the back of the living room sofa. It was a well-worn stuffed Rottweiler, one of its ears almost missing and a patch of fur on its back worn away. Her father had bought Hanna this stuffed dog after they made up the Cornelius Maximilian dog character, a long-running inside joke between them. Hanna had lost track of the stuffed Cornelius through the years and figured he’d been lost forever. Had her dad really hung on to him this long?

She touched Cornelius’s plush head, guilt and regret surging through her veins. Her dad was trying to make an effort to restore their relationship, and Hanna was paying him back by fraternizing with the enemy. She needed to break it off with Liam now, before she got in deeper. She was juggling too many secrets right now. It was all catching up with her.

She reached into her pocket for her phone. But when she opened a new text message, she stopped. The thought of never seeing Liam again made her stomach tighten and tears well in her eyes.

A hand touched Hanna’s arm, and she squealed and whirled around. Kate stood behind her, hand on one hip. “Everything okay?” she asked in a faux-concerned voice. Her gaze flicked from Hanna’s face to her cell phone.

“Everything’s fine,” Hanna said tightly, covering the screen with her fingers. Thankfully, she hadn’t pulled up Liam’s information yet.

“Uh huh.” Kate narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look fine.”

“Why do you care?”

Kate stepped closer, and Hanna could smell her Jo Malone Fig and Cassis body lotion. “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

Hanna looked away, trying to remain calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A nasty smile wriggled onto Kate’s face. “You heard what Tom said,” she warned, shaking her finger. “If any of us have secrets, the enemy will find them out. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

And then, before Hanna could answer, Kate tossed her long chestnut hair, spun around, and strolled back to the family room. She let out a high, lilting giggle as she walked, a sound that made every cell in Hanna’s body quiver.

It sounded exactly like Ali’s. A’s.

“Let’s take it from the eighth measure.” Amelia’s voice floated out from the den as Spencer walked in the door and dropped her bag by the umbrella stand the following afternoon. A few seconds later, clarinets tooted and violins screeched. The classical piece lumbered forward, sounding like a funereal mess. Then it stopped abruptly. “Maybe we should take a break,” another voice said.

Spencer froze. Kelsey was here. Again.

Part of her wanted to run up to her bedroom and slam the door tight, but she remembered her promise to the others—and herself. If she studied Kelsey carefully enough, maybe she’d be able to figure out what Kelsey knew about last summer—and if she really was A.

Slowly, she crept toward the den. The door was slightly ajar. Inside the room, Amelia fingered her clarinet. Kelsey held her violin in her lap. Then, as if sensing a presence, Kelsey raised her head, saw Spencer, and flinched. Her mouth made a small O .

Spencer shot back and pressed her body against the wall. Some spy she was. But after taking several deep breaths, she peeked around the doorway and looked again. Kelsey’s head was down now, concentrating on the sheet music. There was a tiny flower tattoo behind her ear—perhaps temporary, or perhaps real. Spencer wondered if she’d gotten it in juvie.

She thought about the night of their arrest. It had begun like any other. Spencer had grabbed her books from her desk and climbed one floor to Kelsey’s room. The dorm was trying out a new keypad system of entry into the rooms instead of keys, and Kelsey had given Spencer her room’s code. She’d typed it in and let herself into the empty room—Kelsey was still at the gym. Spencer decided that she might as well pop an Easy A now so it would kick in when they were starting to cram. But when she rifled through her purse, the pill bottle was empty. She checked inside Kelsey’s Buddha statue, where she always kept her stash. Kelsey was out of pills, too.

Panic overcame her. Their AP exams were in three days, and she was only through chapter seventeen of thirty-one in AP Ancient History. Phineas had warned her that if she went off the pills cold turkey, she’d suffer a major crash. The most logical thing to do was call Phineas for more, but Spencer had no idea where he’d gone. Two days ago, he didn’t show up to class. When Spencer and Kelsey went to his dorm room, it was empty, the sheets stripped from the bed, the clothes removed from the hangers in the closet. Spencer had tried his cell phone, but there was no answer. An automated voice said that his voice mail inbox was full.

A beep of the room’s electronic keypad entry system sounded, and Kelsey let herself in, looking fresh-faced and relaxed. Spencer sprang to her feet. “We’re out of pills,” she blurted. “We need to get more.”

Kelsey frowned. “How?”

Spencer tapped her lips, thinking. Phineas had mentioned reputable dealers in North Philly and given her one of the guy’s cards in case of emergencies. She pulled it out and started dialing the number. Kelsey stared at her. “What are you doing?”

“We need those pills to study,” Spencer said.

Kelsey shifted her weight. “Maybe we can do this without them, Spence.”

But then someone answered on the other end. Spencer straightened up, uttered the code words Phineas said would gain the guy’s trust, and then told him what she wanted. He gave her his address, and they arranged to meet. “We’re set,” she said after a moment, hanging up. “Come on.”

Kelsey remained on the bed, her shoes off. “I think I’ll stay here.”

“I can’t do this alone.” Spencer pulled her car keys out of her pocket. “It’ll take a half hour, tops.”

But Kelsey shook her head. “I’m fine without the pills, Spence.”

Groaning, Spencer stomped over to Kelsey and pulled her to her feet. “You won’t be saying that a few hours from now. Put on your flip-flops. Let’s go.”

Finally, Kelsey relented. They drove through the dark streets into a derelict neighborhood, passing boarded-up windows and graffiti-marred walls. Kids sat on stoops, glaring at everything. A fight broke out on the corner, and Kelsey whimpered. Spencer wondered if she’d been right—maybe this was a bad idea.

But soon enough they were back in the car, pill bottle in hand, heading toward campus once more. Spencer handed Kelsey an Easy A, and they both washed them down with warm Diet Sprite. As they rolled into a safer neighborhood, Kelsey let out a long sigh. “We’re never doing that again.”