Sara Shepard - Perfect

“Afraid?” her father repeated, leaning forward. “Of what?”

Spencer blinked. She felt like she was having the recurring dream where she knew what she wanted to say in her head, but instead of words coming out of her mouth, out came a shell. Or a worm. Or a plume of purple, chalky smoke. Then she clamped her mouth closed. She’d suddenly realized the answer she was looking for—what she feared.

Herself.

Friday morning, Hanna stepped out of Lucas’s maroon Volkswagen Jetta. They were in the parking lot of Ridley Creek State Park, and the sun was barely up.

“This is my big surprise that’s supposed to make me feel all better?” She looked around. Ridley Creek Park was full of undulating gardens and hiking trails. She watched as a bunch of girls in running shorts and long-sleeved T-shirts passed. Then a bunch of guys on bikes in colorful spandex shorts rode by. It made Hanna feel lazy and fat. Here it was, not even 6 A.M., and these people were virtuously burning off calories. They probably hadn’t binged on a whole box of cheddar-flavored goldfish crackers last night, either.

“I can’t tell you,” Lucas answered. “Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Hanna groaned. The air smelled like burning leaves, which Hanna always found spooky. As she crunched through the parking lot gravel, she thought she heard snickering. She whipped back around, alert.

“Something wrong?” Lucas said, stopping a few paces away.

Hanna pointed at the trees. “Do you see someone?”

Lucas shaded his eyes with his hand. “You worried about that stalker?”

“Something like that.”

Anxiety gnawed at her belly. When they’d driven here in semi-darkness, Hanna felt like a car had been following them. A? Hanna couldn’t stop thinking about the bizarre text from yesterday about Mona going to Bill Beach for plastic surgery. In some ways, it made sense—Mona never wore anything that revealed too much skin, even though she was way thinner than Hanna was. But plastic surgery—anything but a boob job, anyway—was kind of…embarrassing. It meant genetics were against you, and you couldn’t exercise your way down to your ideal body. If Hanna spread that rumor about Mona, her popularity quotient might sink a few notches. Hanna would have done it to another girl without batting an eye…but to Mona? Hurting her felt different.

“I think we’re okay,” Lucas said, walking toward the pebbly path. “They say the stalker only spies on people in their houses.”

Hanna rubbed her eyes nervously. For once, she didn’t need to worry about smudging her mascara. She’d put on next to no makeup this morning. And she was wearing Juicy velour pants and a gray hoodie she often wore to run laps around the track. This was all to show they were not on some queer early morning date.

When Lucas showed up at the door, Hanna was relieved to find that he was wearing ratty jeans, a scruffy tee, and a similar gray hoodie. Then he’d flopped into a leaf pile on their way to the car and squirmed around like Hanna’s miniature Doberman, Dot. It was actually kind of cute. Which was totally different from thinking that Lucas was cute, obviously.

They entered a clearing and Lucas turned around. “Ready for your surprise?”

“This better be good.” Hanna rolled her eyes. “I could still be in bed.”

Lucas led her through the trees. In the clearing was a rainbow-striped hot air balloon. It was limp and lying on its side, with the basket part tipped over. A couple of guys stood around it as fans blew air up into the balloon, making it ripple.

“Ta-daaa!” Lucas cried.

“Okaaay.” Hanna shaded her eyes with her hand. “I’m going to watch them blow up a balloon?” She knew this wasn’t a good idea. Lucas was so lame.

“Not quite.” Lucas leaned back on his heels. “You’re going up in it.”

“What?” Hanna shrieked. “By myself ?”

Lucas knocked her upside the head. “I’m going with you, duh.” He started walking toward the balloon. “I have a license to fly hot air balloons. I’m learning to fly a Cessna, too. But my biggest accomplishment is this.” He held up a stainless steel carafe. “I made smoothies for us this morning. It was the first time I’d used the blender—the first time I’ve used a kitchen appliance at all, actually. Aren’t you proud of me?”

Hanna smirked. Sean had always cooked for her, which always made Hanna feel more inadequate than pampered. She liked that Lucas was boyishly clueless.

“I am proud.” Hanna smiled. “And sure, I’ll go up in that deathtrap with you.”

After the balloon got fat and taut, Hanna and Lucas climbed in the basket and Lucas shot a long plume of fire up into the envelope. In seconds, they started to rise. Hanna was surprised her stomach didn’t lurch as it sometimes did on an elevator, and when she looked down, she was amazed to see that the two guys who had helped inflate the balloon were tiny specks on the grass. She saw Lucas’s red Jetta in the parking lot…then the fishing creek, then the winding running path, then Route 352.

“There’s the Hollis spire!” Hanna cried excitedly, pointing at it off in the distance.

“Cool, huh?” Lucas smiled.

“It is ,” Hanna admitted. It was so nice and quiet up here. There were no traffic sounds, no annoying birds, just the sound of wind. Best of all, A wasn’t up here. Hanna felt so free. Part of her wanted to fly away in a balloon for good, like the Wizard of Oz.

They flew over the Old Hollis neighborhood, with its Victorian houses and messy front lawns. Then the King James Mall, its parking lot nearly empty. Hanna smiled when they passed the Quaker boarding school. It had an avant-garde obelisk on the front lawn that was nicknamed William Penn’s Penis.

They floated over Alison DiLaurentis’s old house. From up here, it seemed so untroubled. Next to that was Spencer’s house, with its windmill, stables, barn, and rock-lined pool. A few houses down was Mona’s, a beautiful redbrick bordered by a grove of cherry trees with a garage off to the side of the yard. Once, right after their makeovers, they’d painted HM + MV = BBBBBFF in reflective paint on the roof. They never knew what it actually looked like from above. She reached for her BlackBerry to text Mona the news.

Then she remembered. They weren’t friends anymore. She sucked in a breath.

“You all right?” Lucas asked.

She looked away. “Yeah. Fine.”

Lucas’s eyebrows made a V. “I’m in the Supernatural Club at school. We practice mind reading. I can ESP it out of you.” He shut his eyes and put his hands to his temples. “You’re upset because of…how Mona’s having a birthday party without you.”

Hanna suppressed a snort. Like that was hard to figure out. Lucas had been in the bathroom right after it happened. She unscrewed the top to the smoothie carafe. “Why are you in, like, every Rosewood Day club imaginable?” He was like a dorkier version of Spencer in that way.

Lucas opened his eyes. They were such a clear, light blue—like the cornflower crayon from the 64-Crayola box. “I like being busy all the time. If I’m not doing anything, I start thinking.”

“About what?”

Lucas’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “My older brother tried to kill himself a year ago.”

Hanna widened her eyes.

“He has bipolar disorder. He stopped taking his medication and…something went wrong in his head. He took a whole bunch of aspirin, and I found him passed out in our living room. He’s at a psychiatric hospital now. They have him on all these medications and…he’s not really the same person anymore, so…”