Sara Shepard - Unbelievable

When Emily looked up, she saw Scott fiddling with his camera, but she didn’t see Maya anywhere in the room. Just then, her cell phone started vibrating. She had one new text message.

Tsk tsk, Emily! Does your girlfriend know about your weakness for blondes? I’ll keep your secret…if you keep mine. Kisses!—A

Emily’s heart hammered. Weakness for blondes? And…where had Maya gone?

“Emily?”

A girl stood in the yearbook doorway, wearing a gauzy pink baby-doll top, as if she were impervious to the mid-October chill. Her blond hair whipped around like she was a bikini model standing in front of a wind machine.

“Trista?” Emily blurted out.

Maya reemerged from the hallway, frowning, then smiling. “Em! Who’s this?”

Emily whipped her head around at Maya. “Where were you just now?”

Maya cocked her head. “I was…in the hall.”

“What were you doing?” Emily demanded.

Maya shot her a look that seemed to say, What does it matter? Emily blinked hard. She felt like she was losing her mind, suspecting Maya. She looked back at Trista, who was striding across the room.

“It’s so good to see you!” Trista crowed. She gave Emily a huge hug. “I hopped a plane! Surprise!”

“Yeah,” Emily croaked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Over Trista’s shoulder, Emily could see Maya glaring at her. “Surprise.”

After school on Friday, Aria drove down Lancaster Avenue past the strip malls, Fresh Fields, A Pea in the Pod, and Home Depot. The afternoon was overcast, making the normally colorful trees that lined the road look faded and flat.

Mike sat next to her, sullenly screwing and unscrewing his Nalgene bottle cap over and over again. “I’m missing lacrosse,” he grumbled. “When are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

“We’re going somewhere that’s going to make everything right,” Aria said stiffly. “And don’t worry, you’re going to love it.”

As she paused at a stop sign, a shimmer of pleasure ran through her. A’s hint about Meredith—that she had a dirty little Hooters secret—made perfect sense. Meredith had acted so funny when Aria saw her at Hollis the other day, saying she had to be somewhere but not telling where that somewhere was. And just two nights ago, Meredith had commented that because the rent on the Hollis house was going up and she hadn’t made much on her artwork lately, she might have to get a second job to make ends meet. Hooters girls probably got great tips.

Hooters. Aria clamped her mouth shut to keep from laughing. She couldn’t wait to reveal this to Byron. Every time they’d driven by the place in years past, Byron had said that only puerile philistines went to Hooters, men who were more closely related to monkeys than humans. Last night, Aria had given Meredith a chance to admit her sins to Byron on her own, sidling up to her and saying, “I know what you’re hiding. And you know what? I’m going to tell Byron if you don’t.”

Meredith had stepped back, dropping the dish towel from her hands. So she did feel guilty about something! Still, Meredith clearly hadn’t said a word about it to Byron. Just this morning they’d peacefully crunched on bowls of Kashi GoLean at the table, getting along as happily as before. So Aria had decided to take matters into her own hands.

Even though it was midafternoon, the Hooters parking lot was nearly full. Aria noticed four cop cars lined up—the place was a notorious cop hangout, as it was right next to the police station. The Hooters owl on the sign grinned at them, and Aria could just make out girls in skintight shirts and orange mini shorts through the restaurant’s tinted windows. But when she looked over to Mike, he wasn’t frothing at the mouth or getting a hard-on or whatever normal boys did when they pulled up to this place. Instead, he looked annoyed. “What the hell are we doing here?” he sputtered.

“Meredith works here,” Aria explained. “I wanted you to be here with me so we could confront her together.”

Mike’s mouth dropped open so wide, Aria could see the bright green gum lodged behind his molars. “You mean…Dad’s…?”

“That’s right.” Aria reached into her yak-fur bag for her Treo—she wanted to take pictures of Meredith, for evidence—but it wasn’t in its usual place. Aria’s stomach churned. Had she lost it? She’d dropped her phone on a table after she’d gotten A’s note in art class, fleeing the room and peeling off her mask in Hollis’s lobby bathroom. Had she forgotten to pick it up? She made a mental note to stop by class later to look for it.

When Aria and Mike swept through the double doors, they were greeted by a blaring Rolling Stones song. Aria was overcome by the stench of hot wings. A blond, super-tan girl stood at the hostess station. “Hi!” she said happily. “Welcome to Hooters!”

Aria gave their name and the girl turned around to check on available tables, shaking her ass as she walked away. Aria nudged Mike. “Did you see the boobs on her? Gi nor mous!”

She couldn’t believe the things that were spilling out of her mouth. Mike, however, didn’t even crack a smile. He was acting like Aria had dragged him to a poetry reading instead of hooter heaven. The hostess returned and led them to their booth. When she bent to place their silverware on the table, Aria could see right down the girl’s T-shirt to her bright fuchsia bra. Mike’s eyes remained fixed on the orange carpet, as if this sort of thing was against his religion.

After the hostess left, Aria looked around. She noticed a group of cops across the room, shoveling in enormous plates of ribs and french fries, staring alternately at a football game on TV and the waitresses that passed by their table. Among them was Officer Wilden. Aria slid down in her seat. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t be here—Hooters always stressed that it was a family place —but she didn’t really feel like seeing Wilden right now, either.

Mike stared sourly at the menu as six more waitresses passed by, each one more jiggly than the last. Aria wondered if somehow, instantly, Mike had turned gay. She turned away—if he was going to be like that, fine. She’d search for Meredith herself.

All the girls were dressed alike, their shirts and shorts eight sizes too small and their sneakers the kind the cheerleading squad wore on game day. They all sort of had the same face, too, which would make it easy to pick out Meredith among them. Only, she didn’t see a single dark-haired girl here, much less one with a spiderweb tattoo. By the time the waitress set down their enormous plate of fries, Aria finally got up the courage to ask. “Do you know if someone named Meredith Gates works here?”

The waitress blinked. “I don’t recognize that name. Although sometimes the girls here go by different names. You know, stuff that’s more…” She paused, searching for an adjective.

“Hooters-y?” Aria suggested jokily.

“Yes!” The girl smiled. When she sashayed away again, Aria snorted and poked Mike with a fry. “What do you think Meredith goes by here. Randi? Fifi? Oh! What about Caitlin? That’s really perky, right?”

“Would you stop?” Mike exploded. “I don’t want to hear anything about…about her , okay?”

Aria blinked, sitting back.

Mike’s face flushed. “You think this is the big thing that’s going to make things right? Shoving the fact that Dad is with someone else in my face yet again ?” He stuffed a bunch of fries in his mouth and looked away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m over it.”

“I wanted to make everything up to you,” Aria squeaked. “I wanted to make this all better.”