Twenty-Seven: Nastiness Heals All Wounds.

Sunday afternoon, Ali lay on her bed, listening to the sound of the jackhammers in the backyard. Every time she considered getting up and doing something, her limbs wouldn't move. She couldn't imagine taking a shower. She couldn't imagine brushing her teeth. All she wanted was to look at the artifacts of her short courtship with Nick. The ticket stub from riding the merry-go-round. A receipt from the paintball place. It was barely anything.

She flopped back down on the pillow, only wanting to sleep. The last time she'd felt like this was when her parents had first sent her to the Radley. She'd remained in her room, shocked and mute and horrified. What just happened? she thought over and over again. Her parents had let her bring a family album, and she'd turned the gummy, crackling pages so many times that the binding wore out. Nurses had tried to encourage her to join in group activities likes singing, and music or art classes. A therapist had sat on the side of her bed and tried to get her to talk, to move—anything—but she'd felt like there was a huge shovel hovering above her, pouring sand on her until only her eyes could be seen from above.

Her phone beeped, and she pounced on it, but it was just a text from Spencer: We're getting together at my house. Please come over!

Out the window, Spencer, Aria, Emily, and Hanna sat in bathing suits on Spencer's patio. She slopped back down on the pillow, feeling tears prick her eyes. They'd take one look at her and know. Emily had probably told the others that Ali was seeing someone older; maybe they'd ask if he was why her eyes were so red. And how could she fake it?

They'd see the weakness in her eyes. They'd see what sort of messed-up life she had. They would prey on her like she'd preyed on them. That was what best friends did, wasn't it? They ate each other alive. They would give a taste of her own medicine.

She scrolled through her texts, making sure she hadn't missed any from Nick, but she hadn't. What was he doing right now? Eating lunch, happily going on with his life? Would he ever take her back?

And even worse than that, she'd told him about her sister, something she'd sworn to keep a secret forever. Now, she felt naked, exposed.

Her phone pinged again. You coming? Spencer asked. I see the light on in your bedroom.

"God," Ali said through her teeth, tossing the phone toward the closet. It hit the wall hard, knocking off a photograph of Ali and her friends on a boat in Newport Harbor. After a moment, Ali slid off her bed, slithered toward her phone, and composed a text to Spencer.

Not feeling up to it.

Another text arrived immediately. Why not? Are you sick? Can we help?

Ali shut her eyes and didn't answer. The last thing she wanted was their pity.

Another ping. We're going to come over, Spencer wrote. Whatever you need, we can help.

"No!" Ali screamed, but she already knew it was too late. And when she stood, Spencer, Aria, Hanna, and Emily had already left Spencer's patio and were heading for the side yard. In seconds, they would be here.

Suddenly, her arms and legs could move again. She slipped on a pair of flip-flops, pulling her hair in a ponytail, and barreled down the stairs. She almost crashed into the console table in the hall as she wheeled toward the garage, but she had to get out of here—fast.

Mrs. DiLaurentis, who had her head in the fridge, looked up as she passed. "Ali? Are you okay?"

"Fine," Ali snapped, reaching for the handle to the sliding glass door.

"Can we talk?" Bottles of salad dressing rattled as the fridge door slammed shut.

"I'm busy," Ali barked.

Outside, the sun seemed almost alien, way too bright. A lawn mower buzzed in the distance, and bees flittered around the newly sprung daffodils. Ali's nose twitched with the scent of something close and sour, and after a moment, she realized it was herself. She hadn't taken off the shirt she'd worn on her date with Nick yesterday.

She took a step off the patio, then paused. The trees at the edge of the property whispered and hissed. Ali froze. It felt like someone was watching. She looked back and forth, almost expecting to see pair of eyes gazing out from the woods. A shiver darted up her back.

"Ali?"

She jumped, jerking her hand to the side and hitting it hard against the bricks. Standing at the edge of the yard where Spencer and the others, all of them looking sheepish and worried.

Spencer took a small step forward. "Are you sick? You look sick."

"I could make you chicken soup," Hanna offered. "Or brownies. My dad always used to do that for me when I was sick."

"Maybe you should go back to bed?" Emily asked in a small voice.

Ali ran her hand through her greasy hair and wished she'd changed her shirt. "I'm fine, just a little bug," she said, sighing. "I suppose I could tan for a while."

"Oh." Spencer pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, okay. Let's go."

They headed back to Spencer's yard. Spencer started chattering about a party next week that they were all invited to, and Hanna suggested they all go shopping for dresses after school on Monday. But with every step they took, Ali could feel their concern. That familiar thick, goopy nastiness filled her, and suddenly she wanted to shake something hard. She wanted everyone to feel as horrible as she did.

Aria glanced over her shoulder, giving Ali a worried look, and Ali felt a fire burn inside of her. She grabbed Aria's arm. "Do you want to talk about anything?" she whispered in a fake concerned tone.

Aria paled and stared straight ahead. "No. I'm fine."

Ali clucked her tongue. "It's not good to hold things in, Aria—I've seen it on Dr. Phil all the time. You need to vent about this. Get it out. Otherwise you'll be, like, sexually repressed or something when you get older."

Aria squirmed. "Really?"

Ali laid her hand on her shoulder. "Yep. So, tell Dr. Ali what you're going to do."

Aria kicked at a clump of cut grass that the mowing service had forgotten to bag. "I can't do anything about it," she whispered.

"Do you think they're, like, dating?" Ali's voice rose with a mix of horror and excitement. "She was so young!"

Aria shoved her hands in her pockets and just shrugged. But her eyes were wet, as though she was about to cry. Ali turned away. At least she wasn't crying right now. At least her mom was having an affair with someone her own age.

Hanna looked over her shoulder and frowned at Aria's injured expression. "What are you guys talking about there?" She lagged behind so that Ali and Aria could catch up. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course," Aria said quickly.

"Everything's great," Ali answered. "Right, Aria?"

Aria flinched. She shot Ali a desperate, please-don't-say-anything look back. Hanna shifted, looking conflicted. Emily and Spencer stopped, too, peering curiously at them from next to the raspberry bushes.

"And everything is great with you, right, Hanna?" Ali asked. "Well, except for Sean."

Hanna twisted her mouth. The others looked at her curiously. "Hanna caught her new BFF, Josie, making out with Sean at my party the other night," Ali explained.

The girls gasped. "Oh, Hanna, that's awful!" Emily cried, placing a hand on Hanna's shoulder.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Aria asked.

Hanna shrugged. "It seemed stupid to talk about. Sean's not for me, anyway. I'm over it."

Ali heard herself snicker. "That's for sure, Han. You definitely have your own way of getting things out of your system."

Hanna's head snapped up. The look on her face was one of both horror and betrayal. What are you doing? her expression said. Ali didn't meet her gaze. She'd meant it when she'd promised Hanna she wouldn't tell about the bingeing. But that was then. Dancing around it now felt almost fun. Her heartbreak was why worse than Hanna's. And Ali wasn't moronic enough to think bingeing was the way to deal with it.

They'd reached the pool area by then. Spencer plopped down on one of the chaise lounges and crossed her legs. The other girls sat, too, though they all seemed shaken. Aria stared blankly at the water. Hanna nervously plunged her hand into the bowl of popcorn on the table. Ali, on the other hand, felt a vaguely nuclear glow inside her. Her nastiness felt like a runaway train she couldn't stop if she tried. But she didn't exactly want to. Every time her friends squirmed, she felt like it restored just a teensy bit of her life source.

Emily picked up a People magazine and opened it randomly to a page. Ali glanced at the spread. On the left-hand side was a picture of a bronzed, bikini-clad girl advertising beer.

Ali nudged her. "I wonder if she likes tree houses."

The magazine fell from Emily's hands, and the look on her face was that of a trapped, tortured animal. Emily opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Hanna leaned forward. "What does that mean?"

Ali smiled and laid her hands on her lap. "Oh, just an inside joke between me and Em. It's a funny one, too, right, Em?"

Emily just blinked, not saying yes or no. Ali tried hard not to stare at her pink lips or think about the way they kiss had felt. She also tried to ignore the little wiggle of remorse she felt inside.

The other girls stared at Emily, then Ali. All of them looked like they wanted to say something, but it seemed like none of them knew what.

Then, as if on cue, the screen door slid open, and Melissa Hastings, dressed in a green string-bikini top and printed sarong, stuck her head out. "Oh," she said sullenly when she saw the girls. "I didn't know the patio was being used."

"Hi, Melissa!" Ali said emphatically, jumping to her feet. "How are you?"

Melissa paused and examined Ali, her lips twitching. "I'm fine."

Ali tapped Spencer's arm. "I think Spencer has something to tell you—a big surprise. What do you say, Spence?"

Spencer's mouth dropped open. She shook her head fast. "No, I don't."

Melissa placed her hands on her hips. "What is it, Spence?"

"Nothing."

Melissa turned back to Ali, but Ali just gave Melissa a closed-mouth smile. It's not my story to tell, her look said. Finally, Melissa sighed and turned back into the house. The sliding door swished closed.

Spencer whirled around and glared at Ali. "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" Ali shot back.

Aria blinked. "What is going on with everyone?"

Ali glanced at her. "I don't know, Aria. What is going on?"

There was another painful silence. The birds tweeted obliviously in the trees. Then Spencer looked at her phone. "I have to go, okay? I just realized." She stood up and strode into the house without even saying good-bye.

The other girls watched the sliding door, perhaps thinking Spencer was going to come back. When she didn't, Aria stood up. "That reminds me, I need to get going."

"Me, too," Hanna said quickly.

Emily gave Ali a long, conflicted look, then stood up as well. They peeled away and mounted their bikes or headed toward the woods. Ali let out a long, contented sigh. It had been a good idea to come out here after all. In fact, she felt so much stronger—there was no need to go back to bed anymore.

And best of all, she hadn't thought of Nick once.