Sara Shepard - Unbelievable

“Hey.” Mona stood above her in a pretty olive-green dress and tall black boots. She had an oversize dark purple bag slung over her right shoulder, and she carried a Jamba Juice smoothie in her hand. “Am I too early?”

“Nope, you’re perfect.” Spencer moved her books off the seat across from her and stuffed Melissa’s essay into her purse. Her hand grazed against her cell phone. She fought against the masochistic urge to pull it out and look at A’s message again. Stop digging for answers. After everything that had happened, after three days of radio silence, A was still after them. Spencer was dying to talk to Wilden about it, but she was terrified about what A might do if she did.

“You okay?” Mona sat down and stared at Spencer worriedly.

“Sure.” Spencer rattled the straw in her empty Diet Coke glass, trying to push A from her mind. She gestured to her books. “I just have this interview for an essay competition on Friday. It’s in New York. So I’m sort of freaking out.”

Mona smiled. “That’s right, that Golden Orchid thing? You’ve been all over the announcements.”

Spencer ducked her head faux-bashfully. She loved hearing her name on the morning announcements, except when she had to read them herself—then it just seemed boastful. She inspected Mona carefully. Mona had really done a fantastic job transforming from Razor scooter–loving dork to fabulous diva, but Spencer had never really gotten past seeing Mona as one of the many girls Ali liked to tease. This was possibly the first time she’d ever spoken to Mona one-on-one.

Mona cocked her head. “I saw your sister outside your house when I left for school this morning. She said your picture was in Sunday’s paper.”

“ Melissa told you that?” Spencer’s eyes widened, feeling a glimmer of uneasiness. She recalled the fearful look that had crossed Melissa’s face yesterday when Wilden asked her where she’d been the night Ali vanished. What was Melissa so afraid of? What was Melissa hiding?

Mona blinked, lost. “Yeah. Why? Is it not true?”

Spencer shook her head slowly. “No, it’s true. I’m just surprised Melissa said something nice about me, is all.”

“What do you mean?” Mona asked.

“We’re not the best of friends.” Spencer glanced furtively around the country club patio, filled with a horrible feeling that Melissa was here, listening . “Anyway,” she said. “About the party. I just talked to the club manager, and they’re all ready for Friday.”

“Perfect.” Mona pulled out a stack of cards and slid them across the table. “These are the invites I came up with. They’re in the shape of a mask, see? But then there’s foil on the front, so when you look into it, you see yourself.”

Spencer looked at her slightly fuzzy reflection in the invite. Her skin was clear and glowing and her newly touched-up buttery highlights brightened her face.

Mona flipped through her Gucci wallet diary, consulting her notes. “I also think, to make Hanna feel really special, we should bring her into the room in a grand princess–style entrance. I’m thinking four hot, shirtless guys could carry her in on a canopied pedestal. Or something like that. I’ve arranged for a bunch of models to come over to Hanna’s tomorrow so she can choose them for herself.”

“That’s awesome .” Spencer folded her hands over her Kate Spade diary. “Hanna’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

Mona looked ruefully out at the golf course and let out a long sigh. “The way things have been between us lately, it’s a miracle that Hanna doesn’t hate me.”

“What are you talking about?” Spencer had heard something about Mona and Hanna getting in a fight at Mona’s birthday party, but she’d been so busy and distracted, she hadn’t really paid attention to the rumors.

Mona sighed and tucked a strand of white-blond hair behind her ear. “Hanna and I haven’t been on the best of terms,” she admitted. “It’s just that, she’d been acting so weird. We used to do everything together, but suddenly she started keeping all these secrets, blowing off plans we made, and acting like she hated me.” Mona’s eyes welled with tears.

A lump formed in Spencer’s throat. She knew just how that felt. Before she disappeared, Ali had done the same thing to her.

“She was spending a lot of time with you guys—and that made me a little jealous.” Mona traced her pointer finger around the perimeter of an empty bread plate on the table. “Truthfully, I was stunned when Hanna wanted to be friends with me in eighth grade. She was part of Ali’s clique, and you guys were legend. I always thought our friendship was too good to be true. Maybe I still kind of feel that way from time to time.”

Spencer stared at her. It was incredible how similar Mona and Hanna’s friendship was to Spencer and Ali’s—Spencer had been astonished when Ali chose her to be part of her inner circle, too. “Well, Hanna’s been hanging out with us because we’ve been dealing with some…issues,” she said. “I’m sure she’d rather be with you.”

Mona bit her lip. “I was terrible to her. I thought she was trying to ditch me, so I just…went on the defensive. But when she got hit by the car…and when I realized she might die…it was awful. She’s been my best friend for years.” She covered her face with her hands. “I just want to forget about all of it. I just want things to be normal again.”

The charms dangling off Mona’s Tiffany bracelet tinkled together prettily. Her mouth puckered, as if she were about to start sobbing. Spencer suddenly felt guilty about the way they used to tease Mona. Ali had taunted her about her vampire tan, and even her height—Ali always said Mona was short enough to be the girl version of Mini Me from Austin Powers . Ali also claimed that Mona had cellulite on her gut—she’d seen Mona changing in the country club locker room and had nearly thrown up it was so ugly. Spencer didn’t believe her, so once, when Ali was spending the night at Spencer’s, they sneaked over to Mona’s house down the street and spied on Mona as she was dancing to videos on VH1 in the den. “I hope her shirt flutters up,” Ali whispered. “Then you’ll see her in all her nastiness.”

Mona’s shirt stayed put. She’d continued to dance around crazily, the way Spencer danced when she thought no one was watching. Then Ali knocked on the window. Mona’s face reddened and she fled out of the room.

“I’m sure everything will be fine between you and Hanna,” Spencer said gently, touching Mona’s thin arm. “And the last thing you should do is blame yourself.”

“I hope so.” Mona gave Spencer a vulnerable smile. “Thanks for listening.”

The waitress interrupted them, setting the leather booklet containing Spencer’s bill on the table. Spencer opened it up and signed her two Diet Cokes to her father’s account. She was surprised that her watch said it was almost five. She stood up, feeling a twinge of sadness, not wanting the conversation to end. When had she last talked to anyone about anything real ? “I’m late for rehearsal.” She let out a long, stressed sigh.

Mona inspected her for a moment, then glanced across the room. “Actually, you might not want to leave quite yet.” She nodded toward the double French doors, color returning to her face. “That guy over there just checked you out.”

Spencer glanced over her shoulder. Two college-age guys in Lacoste polos sat at a corner table, nursing Bombay Sapphires and sodas. “Which one?” Spencer murmured.

“Mr. Hugo Boss model.” Mona pointed to a dark-haired guy with a chiseled jaw. A devious look came over her face. “Want to make him lose his mind?”