“I don’t know,” Emily concluded. “But I don’t want to find out.”
“Maybe A is gone,” Aria said, in the most hopeful voice she could manage.
Emily sighed and said she had to go. Aria got up, poured a glass of acai berry juice Meredith had bought at the health food store, and rubbed her temples. Could Wilden have delayed the search on purpose? If so, why? He’d seemed so fidgety and uncomfortable last night, and then he’d walked off in the opposite direction of Spencer’s house. Maybe he was hiding something. Or maybe Emily was right—the delay was due to procedure. He was just a cop dutifully playing by the rules.
It still baffled Aria that Wilden had become a cop, let alone a dutiful one. Wilden had been in Jason DiLaurentis and Ian’s year at Rosewood Day, and back then he’d been a troublemaker. The year Aria was in sixth and they were in eleventh, she often sneaked into the Upper School during her free periods to spy on Jason—she’d had such a painful crush on him, and sought him out every chance she got. For just a moment, she would gaze through the window of the wood-shop cottage as he sanded his homemade bookends, or swoon at his muscular legs as he ran up and down the soccer practice fields. Aria was always careful never to let anyone see her.
But once, someone did.
It was about a week into the school year. Aria had been watching Jason checking out books at the library from the hallway when she heard a click behind her. There was Darren Wilden, his ear pressed to the door of the lockers, slowly turning the dial. The locker opened, and Aria saw a heart-shaped mirror on the inside of the door and a box of Always maxi pads on the upper shelf. Wilden’s hand closed around a twenty-dollar bill wedged between two textbooks. Aria frowned, slowly processing what Wilden was doing.
Wilden stood up and noticed her. He stared back, unapologetic. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he sneered. “But I won’t tell…this time.”
When Aria looked at the TV again, there was a commercial on for a local furniture outlet store called The Dump. She stared at her phone on the table, realizing there was another phone call she had to make. It was almost eleven—Ella would certainly be awake.
She dialed the number to her house. The phone rang once, then twice. There was a click, and someone said, “Hello?”
Aria’s words got stuck in her throat. It was Xavier, her mother’s new boyfriend. Xavier sounded chipper and comfortable, completely at ease with answering the Montgomerys’ phone. Had he stayed overnight last night after the benefit? Ew.
“Hello?” Xavier said again.
Aria felt tongue-tied and skeeved out. When Xavier had approached Aria at the Rosewood Day benefit last night and asked if they could talk, Aria had assumed that he was going to apologize for kissing her a few days before. Only, apparently, in Xavier-speak, “talk” meant “grope.”
After a few seconds of silence, Xavier breathed out. “Is this Aria?” he said, his voice slimy. Aria made a small squeak. “There’s no need to hide,” he teased. “I thought we had an understanding.”
Aria hung up fast. The only understanding she and Xavier had was that if she warned Ella what kind of person Xavier was, Xavier would tell Ella that Aria had liked Xavier for a nanosecond. And that would ruin Aria and Ella’s relationship for good.
“Aria?”
Aria jumped and looked up. Her father, Byron, was standing above her, wearing a ratty Hollis T-shirt and sporting his typical just-rolled-out-of bed hairstyle.
He sat down at the table next to her. Meredith, wearing a sari-style maternity dress and Birkenstocks, waddled in and leaned against the counter. “We wanted to talk to you,” Byron said.
Aria folded her hands in her lap. They both looked so serious.
“First off, we’re going to have a baby shower for Meredith Wednesday night,” Byron said. “It’s going to be a little thing with some of our friends.”
Aria blinked. They had joint friends? That seemed impossible. Meredith was in her twenties, barely out of college. And Byron was…old.
“You can bring a friend if you want,” Meredith added. “And don’t worry about getting me a gift. I totally don’t expect it.”
Aria wondered if Meredith was registered at Sunshine, the eco baby store in Rosewood that sold organic baby booties made out of recycled soda bottles for a hundred dollars.
“And as for where this shower is going to be…” Byron tugged at the cuffs of his white cable-knit sweater. “We’re going to have it at our new house.”
The words took a moment to sink in. Aria opened her mouth, then shut it fast.
“We didn’t want to tell you until we were sure,” Byron rushed on. “But our loan went through today, and we’re closing on it tomorrow. We want to move right away, and we’d love it if you’d join us there.”
“A…house,” Aria repeated. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Here in this student-friendly, shabby-chic, drippy little 650-square-foot apartment in Old Hollis, Byron and Meredith’s relationship seemed sort of…pretend. A house, on the other hand, was grown-up. Real.
“Where is it?” Aria finally asked.
Meredith ran her fingers along the pink spiderweb tattoo on the inside of her wrist. “On Coventry Lane. It’s really beautiful, Aria—I think you’ll love it. There’s a spiral staircase leading to a big loft bedroom in the attic. That can be yours, if you want. The light up there is great for painting.”
Aria stared at a small stain on Byron’s sweater. Coventry Lane had a familiar ring to it, but she wasn’t sure why.