Sara Shepard - 0.5 Ali's Pretty Little Lies

“That is so wrong.” Emily clucked her tongue.

Ali pulled her legs underneath her on the chair. The truth was, even when she’d paraded in front of the workers in a bikini, they’d barely looked at her. She wondered if her dad had warned them or something.

She stretched out her legs. “Did you have fun last night?”

“It was okay.” Emily shrugged. “Hanna seemed really upset about Sean, though.”

“Yeah.” Ali inspected her fingernails, hoping Emily hadn’t seen any of the machinations of that. But even if she had, she might not ask.

“Aria seemed quiet,” Emily went on. “So did Spencer.”

“Sort of,” Ali said.

“Do you know what’s going on with them?”

The overhead light seemed to make a halo over Emily’s head. She was flicking the loose threads of her Jenna Thing bracelet again and again. “I think they should probably tell you themselves,” she said.

Her phone beeped, startling both of them. Ali grabbed for it, hoping it was Nick, but the call came up as Unknown. She turned the phone over.

“Do you need to get that?” Emily asked.

“Not right now.” Ali gave her a tight smile.

The phone stopped, but immediately started ringing again. Ali groaned and kicked it under the table with her foot, then stood. “Come on,” she said to Emily. “Let’s walk around.”

They wandered over to the half-dug hole and looked inside. The workers had dug down several feet more than the last time she’d checked it out, exposing more twisted roots and loamy dark soil. Several banged-up shovels lay in the bottom, and a Swiss Army knife lay abandoned by the edge.

Ali scooped up the knife and stared into the bottom. “I dare you to jump in the hole.”

Emily looked worried. “What if I can’t get out?”

“You could,” Ali said, but when she looked into the hole again, she wasn’t so sure. It seemed deeper, suddenly, than it had even a moment ago. “On second thought, forget it,” she decided. “I’d get too dirty pulling you out.”

Emily turned and eyed the tree house at the back of the property. Suddenly, she grabbed the Swiss Army knife from Ali’s hand and walked toward the solid trunk. After a moment, Ali heard scratching sounds. Emily was cutting something into the bark.

“Are you cutting down my tree?” she asked, walking over to her.

“Nope.” Emily stepped away from the tree and showed off the trunk. Carved into the bark was EF + AD. “Do you like?”

A dizzy feeling swept across Ali’s body as unexpectedly as a pop-up thunderstorm might come upon a town. “Cute,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I’m just so happy we’re friends,” Emily gushed. “I wanted to . . . I don’t know. Show you, I guess.”

“Uh-huh.” Ali’s throat suddenly felt dry.

Emily dropped the Swiss Army knife on the grass and peered up at the tree house. “It’s been ages since we’ve been up there.”

“Let’s go,” Ali said, eager to change the subject.

She grabbed the threadbare rope and placed her feet on the planks her dad had nailed to the trunk as steps sometime in the many years she’d been locked in the hospital. It was an easy climb into the tree house, which was basically just several boards for a floor, pieces of plywood for the walls and roof, and cutouts for windows. Dried leaves and dead bugs littered the floor. Spiderwebs had taken residence in the corners. Ali brushed everything aside with her hands and sat down, her butt bones digging into the wood.

Emily climbed up next and sat beside her. They’d grown so much that there was barely room for both of them; their forearms just touched. They stared out the little window, which offered a good view of the Hastingses’ barn. Melissa Hastings moved back and forth in front of the window. It seemed like she was talking to someone on the phone.

Then Ali turned around and looked at her house. The light was on in her bedroom window, but the guest room’s window was dark. It had been the first window she’d peered out of in Rosewood. In a few days, her sister would be staying in that room, looking out that window instead. Or would she be in her old bedroom again? Would she have convinced her parents the truth about what happened?

Ali’s insides twisted.

“It’s so nice up here,” Emily breathed, bringing Ali back to the moment. “So . . . quiet. It feels like we’re not in Rosewood anymore.”

“It would be nice to get out of Rosewood, wouldn’t it?” Ali murmured. “I’m definitely not living here when I’m older.”

“Me, neither,” Emily agreed. “I don’t even want to live here now .”

Ali looked at her for a moment. She wanted to ask why not. Her parents? Her zillions of brothers and sisters? She wondered if it had something to do with her burgeoning crush. Rosewood wasn’t exactly the most tolerant place of people who were different.

“A tropical island would be nice,” Ali said after a moment.

Emily’s eyes lit up. “I would love to live on a beach. Swimming every single day? Amazing.”

“Why don’t we go right now?” Ali said. “I could book us tickets with my dad’s points. We could run away and never come back.”

“Really?” Emily sounded astonished. “You’d want to go with me?”

“Sure, Em.” Ali shifted her weight. “It would be fun to go with you.” Maybe running away was the answer, she thought suddenly. She could avoid her sister forever. She’d never have to face what was to come.

“It would be really fun to go with you, too, Ali,” Emily said breathlessly. Her fingers were trembling a little, but Ali pretended not to notice. “When I say how happy I am we’re friends, I really mean it. This is . . . amazing. ”

“Definitely,” Ali said, staring at Emily’s thigh. It had shifted closer so that it was now touching Ali’s knee.

Emily looked up and met Ali’s gaze. “Wasn’t the ice rink fun?”

“Sure,” Ali said, a strange feeling settling over her. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

A heartbreaking smile appeared on Emily’s face. “Really? I would love that!” Now her thigh was definitely touching Ali’s knee. Emily placed a hand over Ali’s and then pulled it away, seeming embarrassed. “I’ve been thinking about that day a lot, Ali.”

Suddenly, all Ali could see in her mind’s eye were those tiny letters spelling out I love Ali on Emily’s notebook . The air seemed charged—Emily seemed eager to get something off her chest. Ali was afraid she knew what it was, too. She moved her knee away in one clean jerk and touched Emily’s shoulder. “I have something to tell you,” she blurted. “It’s a secret.”

Emily pressed her lips together. Her eyes shone.

Ali licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Well, I’m sort of seeing someone. This older guy. He’s absolutely amazing.”

For a moment, the tree house was utterly silent. “O-oh,” Emily stammered. Her eyes darted in a lot of directions.

“I wanted you to know because you’re my favorite, Em. You always have been.”

Emily swallowed audibly. “Th-that’s great. What’s his name?”

“It’s . . . well, I don’t want to tell you yet. Soon though, okay?”

“Okay,” Emily said.

They were silent again. Static electricity hung in the air, as scratchy as a dryer sheet. The birds chirped. Far in the distance, someone barked out a laugh. And then, suddenly, Emily twisted her body toward Ali. Before Ali knew what was happening, Emily’s lips were touching hers. They felt soft, normal , just like a guy’s lips, really, and for a split second, Ali shut her eyes and let the sensation wash over her. In many ways, it felt good to be adored so purely. It felt good to give someone exactly what she wanted.