She looked around. Even though she hadn’t been there since the party Mona Vanderwaal had thrown for Hanna after she was hit by a car—the very night, in fact, they’d discovered Mona was A—the place hadn’t changed a bit. The same plaid wallpaper and heavy mahogany paneling covered the walls, the same ornate carpet lined the floors, and it still smelled like a mixture of cigars, red wine, and cream sauce. There were tons of people milling about in the main ballroom already, looking perfect in their gowns and suits with drinks in hand. A gaggle of kids in their country-club best were running up the dramatic double staircase past the lobby. A large ROSEWOOD RALLIES sign was propped up on a table, complete with photos and a description of the charity they were supporting. People barely looked at it, though, more interested in finding their place cards to see which room their family was seated in. Aria couldn’t help but notice that no one here particularly looked like a troubled or disadvantaged youth, either.
“The girl of the hour!” a woman with heavily sprayed blond hair and in a tweed Chanel suit crowed. She gripped her arm hard and said, “My name is Sharon Winters, and I’m the head of the committee who arranged this party. It’s so wonderful for you to come, Aria. Now, come with me! I’ve seated you at the front!”
Aria grabbed Harrison’s hand, and Sharon pulled them through a throng of people, past a large room where a buffet had been set up, and into a dining area that featured an enormous bar and at least twenty stools. At the end of the room was a stage, and before that was a long table with four place settings. Hanna, dressed in a sparkly gown Aria didn’t recognize, was already sitting on one end, biting her red-painted fingernails.
Aria slumped down next to Hanna, and her friend rolled her eyes at Sharon, who’d crossed the room to speak to more guests. “Sharon told me that I should give a speech tonight. Yeah, right.”
“Well, you are the movie star,” Aria couldn’t help teasing. Then she motioned to Harrison. “This is Harrison. He writes Fire and Funnel, the art blog.”
“You’re a movie star?” Harrison asked, shaking Hanna’s hand.
“Not exactly.” Hanna’s gaze flickered to Aria. “Do you know if Mike’s coming tonight?”
Aria shook her head regretfully. She’d known that Mike was taking the train home to see Hanna, but then her dad had told her he’d changed his mind and was hanging out with some lacrosse buddies tonight. She didn’t want to pry, but by the look on Hanna’s face, she wondered if they’d had some sort of fight.
“Whatever it is, it will blow over. I know how Mike feels about you,” she said quietly. Hanna just looked away, seeming unconvinced.
They settled into their seats, Harrison sitting to Aria’s left. The crowd in the dining room was thick; almost every table was filled. “A lot of people from school are here,” she murmured. There were James Freed and Lanie Iler, laughing over a plate of ravioli. Kirsten Cullen and Scott Chin were in line for the caricature artist. Then she saw Mason Byers, looking sporty in a shirt and tie, and a bunch of other kids from the lacrosse team flop down at a table near the emergency exit at the left.
“Not because they want to support troubled youth,” Hanna said sourly. “It’s probably because they can sneak free cocktails.” Then her face paled at something across the room.
Aria tried to follow her gaze, but Hanna leapt up and stood in her way. “Um, we should mingle. Introduce Harrison around, don’t you think?”
Aria frowned. Hanna’s voice was so squeaky all of a sudden. She craned her neck around her friend’s skinny frame and stared at the lacrosse table. Then she saw what Hanna was trying to block. Noel was sitting at the lacrosse table, too. With Scarlett.
You’re not supposed to be here! Aria wanted to scream. Hadn’t Noel told her he was busy tonight? Then again, busy could have meant “I already have a date.”
She peeked at Scarlett. The little blonde was wearing a black dress that fit her lean frame perfectly, and her hair was twisted into a complicated updo. Noel leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Scarlett tilted her head back and laughed, touching Noel’s hand.
Then Noel glanced up. His gaze found Aria instantly, and his eyes narrowed. His lips parted. He didn’t drop Scarlett’s hand. Aria turned quickly to Harrison, who was leafing through the program that described the Rosewood Rallies charity. She grabbed his hand tightly, squeezing it hard, then slid even closer to him and pretended to hang on every word of the story he was telling Hanna about the private high school he’d attended in Montgomery County.
After a decent amount of time, she peeked at the lacrosse table again; to her frustration, Noel’s attention was on Scarlett and the pasta she’d gotten from the buffet. All of a sudden, Aria felt overheated. There was no way she could take another moment in this room. She shot up and fumbled into the hall. “I have to . . . ,” she mumbled to Harrison and Hanna, but then darted toward the door without finishing her sentence.
There was no line for the women’s room, and the little dressing area at the front was empty, too. Aria flung herself on the paisley-printed couch and rubbed her temples hard. Don’t be mad about stupid Scarlett, she told herself sternly. But it was beyond painful to see Noel with someone else. Someone so different. Someone so much prettier.
The door whooshed open, and Aria lifted her head. At first, she thought she was seeing things.
Noel was standing in the doorway.
He gaped at her, arms at his sides. He looked out of breath, his cheeks flushed.