Sara Shepard - Crushed

Beep.

Aria shot up in bed. She stared at her new phone. It wasn’t blinking . . . but Noel’s, which was sitting on Aria’s desk next to his wallet, was. He sat up and studied the screen. “Huh. Is this an international number?” he asked, showing her.

Aria tried to process the long string of numbers in the text box, but before she could, Noel opened the text. Normally, Aria would have looked away, but she caught sight of her name in the message. As she read the words, a sinking feeling crept over her skin.

Look in Aria’s closet. She has something to show you.

Noel snorted. “Freaking international spam. They’re getting so good they know our names now.” He hit DELETE. “ Look in Aria’s closet ,” he said in a mock-ominous voice, punctuating it with a Dracula laugh. “What’s in there?”

“Nothing,” Aria squeaked. She tried to take a breath but hiccupped nervously instead.

Noel pulled away and searched her face. “Are you sure about that?” he teased.

He was still laughing, which made Aria feel even worse. “Yes!” she said, but her voice was too loud and high-pitched.

A beat passed. Noel swung his legs off the bed and started toward the closet. He had the same look on his face he got when he was about to tickle her. “Is it the bogeyman?”

“Don’t open it. It’s a huge mess in there.”

Noel shrugged. “I bet mine’s messier.”

Aria glanced at Noel’s phone lying faceup on the bed. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t tell him about the painting. It was bad enough the case had been reopened and that the police had new evidence and an anonymous tip—which Aria was sure was from A. She couldn’t involve Noel in this. The last thing she wanted was for him to go away for life, too.

“Come here,” Aria said, pulling Noel back to the bed.

She kissed his neck softly, hoping it would distract him. But his muscles were stiff; he pulled away from her and inspected her carefully. “What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?” Aria peppered his cheek with kisses. “I’m fine.”

Noel sat up. “You’re totally not fine. I don’t get you lately. Like, really don’t get you. And it’s starting to scare me. I’m starting to think you’re . . . I don’t know. Not telling me something.”

Now it was Aria’s turn to tense up. “Don’t think that,” she squeaked.

Noel sat back. “Whatever it is, I’ll still love you. But don’t lie to me anymore. There’s something. I can tell.”

Aria’s jaw started to tremble. It felt like Noel could see her secret, ugly and wrinkled inside her. If she insisted it was nothing, he would just keep asking . . . or maybe check the closet for real. Besides, coming clean would eliminate some of A’s power: A would surely let it slip to Noel about Olaf soon enough if Aria didn’t.

She took a deep breath, staring at one of the prisms hanging in the window to steady her nerves. “Okay, I have been keeping something. Something I’m not really proud of.”

Noel pressed his lips together. “Okay,” he said in a brave voice.

Aria cleared her throat, her heart hammering fast. “The reason I was asking you about kissing Ali the other day is because . . . I was feeling guilty about something I did. And, um, if you would have said you liked kissing Ali—even a little bit—it might have made me feel a little better.” As she fumbled her way through the words, she was surprised to realize they were actually true.

Noel’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Aria held her up her hand to stop him. “Just let me finish. So, uh, you know Olaf, from Iceland?”

“The bearded dude?” A hint of a smirk appeared on Noel’s face. “Yeah.”

Aria started to tremble. “Something sort of . . . happened between us when I was there. I meant to tell you a long time ago, but I was afraid. But you need to know.”

A car engine grumbled out the window. The house made a settling sound. Noel turned away sharply. “I knew it.”

“You did?” Aria bit her lip hard. Was she that transparent? Had Noel seen them?

When Aria and Olaf had snuck outside, the door had creaked a few times, like it was about to open, but then it hadn’t. Perhaps Noel had peeked out and saw them. But why wouldn’t he have stormed into the alleyway, punched Olaf in the face, and broken up with Aria on the spot? Noel could have easily taken Olaf in a fight. So maybe he didn’t know that night—maybe A had told him later. But if that was the case, why wouldn’t he have said something as soon as he found out?

Noel paced the room. He stopped at Aria’s desk, laced his hands over the back of her swivel chair, and glared at her. “You accused me the other day of cheating on you with Ali, and here you cheated on me for real. Jesus, Aria.”

Tears rolled down Aria’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I’ve felt terrible ever since. I love you , Noel. I was really drunk. It meant nothing.”

Noel scoffed. “Are you upset now because you really feel bad, or because you got caught? I always suspected something happened, but I hoped . . .” He trailed off and bit his lip. Then he whirled around and kicked the garbage can under her desk hard. It made a metallic clang and rolled against the wall. Aria gasped and jumped back.

Then Noel swiveled around and grabbed his cell phone. “This is an Icelandic number, isn’t it? Is it from Olaf? Are you still in touch with him? You gave him my number?”

“No!” Aria cried. “I’m not in touch with Olaf. Olaf is . . .” She couldn’t say missing or dead. Noel would ask how she knew that, and then she’d have to bring up the newspaper article she’d found on her bed . . . or else she’d have to pretend she’d Googled him, which would make her seem like she liked him. Nor could she say who had really sent Noel that text just now—she couldn’t put Noel in jeopardy.

“I don’t know who that text is from,” she admitted. “Maybe Olaf, though I never gave him your number. I guess it was someone’s way of getting me to tell you the truth.”

“ Look in Aria’s closet. She has something to show you ,” Noel repeated nastily. “A skeleton.”

Tears pricked Aria’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She hated the way he was looking at her.

“Is that all you have to tell me, or is there something more?” Noel demanded.

Aria’s stomach swirled. “Th-that’s all. I swear.”

Noel raised one eyebrow, like he didn’t believe her. Then he turned and stomped out of the room.

“Noel!” Aria cried, chasing after him.

“I have to go,” Noel said gruffly as he thundered down the stairs. He grabbed his keys off the table near the door, whipped it open, and ran out onto the porch.

“Wait!” Aria yelled. By the time she was at the door, Noel was in his car. Its headlights snapped on, and he backed out jerkily, without bothering to look if anyone was on the road. The taillights disappeared down the street quickly.

Aria stood in the chilly night, rubbing her bare arms. It felt like there was a huge weight sitting square on her chest, preventing her from taking a full breath. Noel’s words swam back to her. Is that all you have to tell me? What did that mean?

Another memory flickered into her head, faded and almost forgotten. A Reykjavik cab had picked them up to go to the airport the morning of their flight home. As they drove out of the city, they passed the huge chateau on the hill. Police cars surrounded the place. Cops stood on the driveway, and sirens whirled. Aria slumped down in her seat, but Noel stared straight at it, fascinated. “Huh,” he had said in the croaky voice from a night of too much drinking. “I wonder what happened there .” And then he’d looked pointedly at Aria.