Aria stomped her purple suede boot, gawking at Hanna. “You just got here too. I was here before both of you.”
Hanna squared her shoulders and looked at Aria’s messy braids and chunky layered necklaces. “And who’s going to believe you?”
“Guys.” Emily jutted her pointy chin toward the DiLaurentis house and held a finger to her lips. There were voices coming from the kitchen.
“Don’t.” It sounded like Ali. The girls tensed.
“Don’t,” imitated a second high-pitched voice.
“Stop it!” Ali screeched.
“Stop it!” the second voice echoed.
Emily winced. Her older sister, Carolyn, used to squeakily imitate Emily’s voice the same exact way, and Emily hated it. She wondered if the second voice belonged to Ali’s older brother, Jason, a junior at Rosewood Day.
“Enough!” called a deeper voice. There was a wall-shaking thud and shattering glass. Seconds later, the patio door opened, and Jason stormed out, his sweatshirt flapping open, his shoes untied, and his cheeks flushed.
“Shit,” Spencer whispered. The girls scurried behind the bushes. Jason walked diagonally across the yard toward the woods, then stopped, noticing something to his left. An enraged expression slowly slithered across his face.
The girls followed his gaze. Jason was looking into Spencer’s backyard. Spencer’s sister, Melissa, and her new boyfriend, Ian Thomas, were sitting on the edge of the family’s hot tub. When they saw Jason staring, Ian and Melissa dropped hands. A few pregnant seconds crept by. Two days before, right after Ali bragged about the flag she was about to find, Ian and Jason had gotten in a fight over Ali in front of the entire sixth-grade class. Maybe the fight hadn’t ended.
Jason pivoted stiffly and marched into the woods. The patio door slammed again, and the girls ducked. Ali stood on the deck, looking around. Her long blond hair rippled down her shoulders, and her deep pink T-shirt made her skin look extra glowing and fresh.
“You can come out,” Ali yelled.
Emily widened her brown eyes. Aria ducked down further. Spencer and Hanna clamped their mouths shut.
“Seriously.” Ali walked down the deck steps, balancing perfectly on her wedge heels. She was the only sixth grader ballsy enough to wear high heels to class—Rosewood Day didn’t technically allow them until high school. “I know someone’s there. But if you’ve come for my flag, it’s gone. Someone already stole it.”
Spencer pushed through the bushes, unable to contain her curiosity. “What? Who?”
Aria emerged next. Emily and Hanna followed. Someone else had gotten to Ali before they did?
Ali sighed, plopping down on the stone bench next to the family’s small koi pond. The girls hesitated, but Ali gestured them over. Up close, she smelled like vanilla hand soap and had the longest eyelashes any of them had ever seen. Ali slid off her wedges and sank her petite feet into the soft green grass. Her toenails were painted bright red.
“I don’t know who,” Ali answered. “One minute, the piece was in my bag. The next minute, it was gone. I’d decorated it already and everything. I drew this really cool manga frog, the Chanel logo, and a girl playing field hockey. And I worked forever on the Louis Vuitton initials and pattern, copying the design straight from my mom’s handbag. I got it perfect.” She pouted at them, her sapphire blue eyes round. “The loser who took it is going to ruin it, I just know it.”
The girls murmured their condolences, each suddenly grateful that she hadn’t been the one to steal Ali’s flag—then she would be the loser she was complaining about.
“Ali?”
Everyone whipped around. Mrs. DiLaurentis stepped onto the deck. She looked as if she was on her way to a fancy brunch, dressed in a gray Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress and heels. Her gaze lingered on the girls for a moment, confused. It wasn’t as if they’d ever been in Ali’s backyard before. “We’re going now, okay?”
“Okay,” Ali said, smiling sweetly and waving. “Bye!”
Mrs. DiLaurentis paused, as if she wanted to say something else. Ali turned around, ignoring her. She pointed to Spencer. “You’re Spencer, right?”
Spencer nodded sheepishly. Ali looked searchingly at the others. “Aria,” Aria reminded Ali. Hanna and Emily introduced themselves too, and Ali nodded perfunctorily. It was a total Ali move—she obviously knew their names, but she was subtly saying that in the grand hierarchy of the Rosewood Day sixth-grade class, their names didn’t matter. They didn’t know whether to be humiliated or flattered—after all, Ali was asking their names now.
“So where were you when your flag was stolen?” Spencer asked, grappling for a question to keep Ali’s attention.
Ali blinked dazedly. “Uh, the mall.” She brought her pinkie finger to her mouth and started to chew.
“What store?” Hanna pressed. “Tiffany? Sephora?” Maybe Ali would be impressed that Hanna knew the names of the mall’s upscale shops.
“Maybe,” Ali murmured. Her gaze shifted to the woods. It seemed like she was looking for something—or someone. Behind them, the patio door slammed. Mrs. DiLaurentis had gone back inside the house.
“You know, the stealing clause shouldn’t even be permitted,” Aria said, rolling her eyes. “It’s just…mean.”
Ali pushed her hair behind her ears, shrugging. An upstairs light in the DiLaurentis house snapped off.
“So where had Jason hidden the piece, anyway?” Emily tried.