Thirteen: Someone’s Not As Typical As You Think.

Wednesday afternoon, Aria sat at the kitchen table at Byron and Meredith's new house, staring gloomily into a bar of organic honey-wheat pretzels. The house had been built in the 1950s, with ornate crown molding, a three-tier deck, and beautiful French doors leading from room to room. Unfortunately, the appliances hadn't been updated since the Cold War era. To make up for its old-fashionedness, Meredith had stripped the plaid wallpaper and painted the walls neon green. Like that would be soothing for the baby.

Mike sat next to Aria, grumbling that the only beverage in the house was nonfat Rice Dream soy milk. Byron had invited Mike over after school so he could get to know Meredith better, although the only thing Mike had said to Meredith so far was that her boobs had really grown since she'd gotten knocked up. She'd smiled tightly then clomped upstairs to prepare the baby's nursery.

Mike turned the little kitchen TV to the news. Public Calls for Pretty Little Liars to Take Polygraphs said a black-letter headline on the screen. Aria gasped and leaned forward.

"Some people suspect the four Rosewood girls who claimed they saw Alison DiLaurentis may be keep vital information from the police," a smug, blond reporter said into the camera. Downtown Rosewood, with its quaint village square, French cafe, and Danish furniture store, was in the shot behind her. "They've been at the center of many scandals involving Alison DiLaurentis's case. Then on Saturday they were found at the site of a fire that ravaged the woods where Mr. Thomas was last seen, destroying any possible clues as to his whereabouts. According to several reports, the police are ready to take action against the Liars should any evidence of conspiracy emerge."

"Conspiracy?" Aria repeated, dumbfounded. Did they honestly think Aria and the others had helped Ian escape? It seemed Wilden's warning had been right. They'd lost any remaining shred of credibility when Emily claimed they saw Ali. The entire town had turned against them.

She gazed vacantly out the bay window to the backyard. Workers and cops were scattered around the woods behind her house, poking through the ashes and searching for clues as to who had set the fire. They looked like busy ants in a colony. A woman cop stood near a big telephone pole, two panting German shepherds wearing K-9 Unit vests at her side. Aria wanted to run outside in her hemp slippers and drop Ian's ring back where she'd found it, but guards and dogs were patrolling the perimeter 24/7.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and started a new text to Spencer. Did u just see the news about polygraphs?

Yes, Spencer texted back immediately.

Aria paused, considering how to word her next question. Do you think it's possible that Ali's spirit is trying to tell us something? Maybe that's what we saw the night of the fire?

Seconds after she fired off the text, Spencer wrote back. Like her ghost?

Yes.

No way.

Aria turned her phone face down on the table. It wasn't surprising that Spencer didn't believe her. Back when they used to go swimming in Peck's Pond, Ali made them chant a rhyme that would keep the spirit of the dead man who'd drowned there from harming them. Spencer was the only one who rolled her eyes and refused to play along.

"Dude," Mike said excitedly, and Aria looked up. "You have to tell me what a polygraph is like. I bet it's awesome." When he saw Aria's sick expression, he scoffed. "I'm kidding. The cops won't make you take a test. You haven't done anything wrong. Hanna would tell me if you had."

"Are you and Hanna really dating?" Aria asked, desperate to change the subject.

Mike squared his shoulders. "Is that really such a surprise? I'm hot." He popped a pretzel into his mouth. Crumbs fell to the tile floor. "And speaking of Hanna, if you've been looking for her, she went to Singapore to be with her mom. She's not, like, locked away somewhere or anything. She's not, like, I don't know, in Vegas training to be a stripper."

Aria stared at him crazily. She really had no idea how Hanna put up with him. She didn't blame Hanna for taking off to Singapore either—Aria would do anything to get out of Rosewood too. Even Emily had gotten out of town, off on some church trip to Boston.

"I heard something about you." Mike pointed at her accusingly, wiggling his dark eyebrows. "A reliable source told me that you and Noel Kahn hung out yesterday."

Aria groaned. "Would that reliable source be Noel himself?"

"Well, yeah." Mike shrugged. He leaned forward and asked in a gossipy voice, "So what did you guys do?"

Aria licked pretzel salt off her fingers. Huh. So Noel hadn't told Mike that they'd gone to a seance. It appeared that he hadn't told the press, either. "We just ran into each other somewhere."

"He totally likes you." Mike propped his dirty sneakers on the kitchen table.

Aria ducked her head, staring at what looked like a morsel of Kashi on the tile floor. "No, he doesn't."

"He's having a hot tub party on Thursday." Mike added. "You heard about that, right? The Kahn's are going away and Noel and his brothers are going all out."

"Why is the party on a Thursday?"

"Thursday is the new Saturday," Mike quipped, rolling his eyes as if everyone should know that. "It's going to be sick. You should go."

"No, thanks," Aria said quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was go to another Noel Kahn party—they were full of Typical Rosewood Boys doing keg stands, Typical Rosewood Girls puking up their chocolate martinis and Jell-On shots, and Typical Rosewood Couples making out on the Kahn family's Louis XV—style sofas.

The doorbell rang, and they both sat up straighter. "You get it," Aria insisted. "If it's the press, I'm not here." Reporters had become so brazen, walking right up to the porch and ringing the doorbell several times a day, as nonchalant as the UPS man; Aria half-expected that one of these days they were going to barge right in.

"No problem." Mike peeked at his reflection in the hall mirror and smoothed back his hair.

Just as Mike was about to open the door, Aria realized that she was plainly visible from the front porch. If it was the press, they'd push past Mike and never leave her alone. Feeling panicked and trapped, Aria looked around, darted into the pantry, wedged herself awkwardly under a shelf that contained sacks of brown rice, and slid the door shut.

The pantry smelled like pepper. One of Meredith's brandings—words burned onto big slabs of wood—was propped over a box of couscous. Woman Unite, it said.

Aria heard the front door creak open. "Waaaasssuuup?" Mike yelled. Palms smacked together, and sneakers thudded back down the hall. Two sets of sneakers. Aria peered between the slats of the pantry door, wondering what was happening. To her horror, she saw Mike leading Noel Kahn into the kitchen. What was he doing here?

Mike swiveled around the big kitchen, looking confused. When he faced the pantry, he raised one eyebrow and opened the little door. "Found her!" he crowed. "She's hanging out with the Rice-A-Roni!"

"Whoa." Noel appeared behind Mike. "I wish there was Aria in my pantry!"

"Mike!" Aria stepped out of the pantry quickly, as if she hadn't been hiding. "I told you to say I wasn't home!"

Mike shrugged. "You told me to say that only if it was someone from the press. Not Noel."

Aria gave both of them a sharp look. She still didn't trust Noel. And she felt ashamed after her behavior at the seance, too. She'd spent several minutes in the occult shop's little bathroom, staring crazily at the Missing Person flyer. Noel had finally knocked on the door, telling her that the power had gone out and everyone needed to leave.

Noel turned and snickered at the pregnancy exercises Meredith had hung on the fridge. Many were about strengthening the vaginal muscles. "I wanted to talk to you, Aria." He glanced at Mike. "Alone, if that's cool."

"Of course!" Mike boomed loudly. He shot Aria a look that said Don't screw this up, then headed for the den.

Aria looked in every direction but at Noel's face. "Um, want a drink?" she asked, feeling awkward.

"Sure," Noel said. "Water's fine."

Aria held the glass to the refrigerator dispenser, her back straight and tense. She could still smell the prenatal kelp-and-pumpkin shake Meredith had made fifteen minutes earlier. After she returned to the table with Noel's drink, Noel reached into his backpack, produced a gray plastic bag, and thrust it at her. "For you!"

Aria reached inside and pulled out a large packet of what looked like dirt. Success Incense said the label. When Aria pressed it to her nose, her eyes crossed. It smelled like her cat's letter box. "Oh," she mumbled, uncertain.

"I bought it from that freaky store," Noel explained. "It's supposed to bring you good luck. That warlock dude told me you have to burn it in a magick circle, whatever the hell that is."

Aria snorted. "Uh, thanks." She laid the incense on the table and plunged her hand into the pretzel bag. Noel was reaching into the bag at the same time. Their fingers bumped together. "Oops," Noel said.

"Sorry," Aria said, yanking her hand away. Her cheeks blazed.

Noel leaned his elbows on the table. "So, you bolted from the seance yesterday. Everything cool?"

Aria shoved the pretzel in her mouth fast so she wouldn't have to answer.

"That medium guy was bogus," Noel added. "A total waste of twenty bucks."

"Uh-huh," Aria mumbled, crunching pensively. She was very sad, Equinox the medium had said. Maybe he was bogus, but what if that part was true? Mrs. DiLaurentis had insinuated as much the day after Ali went missing. A few unsettling memories about Ali had popped into Aria's mind over the past twenty-four hours, too. Like the time that, not long after they'd become friends, Ali had invited Aria to go with her and her mom to the family's new vacation home in the Poconos; her dad and Jason were staying in Rosewood. The house was a big, rambling Cape Cod with a patio, a game room, and a hidden staircase that led from one of the back bedrooms to the kitchen. One morning, when Aria was playing on the secret stairs by herself, she'd heard whispering through the grates.

"I just feel so guilty," Ali was saying.

"You shouldn't," her mother replied sternly. "This isn't your fault. You know this is the best thing for our family."

"But…that place." Ali sounded repulsed. "It's so…sad."

At least that was what Aria thought Ali had said. Ali's voice got very low after that, and Aria couldn't hear anything else.

According to the logbook Emily found at the Radley, Jason began visiting the hospital right around the time Aria, Ali, and the others became friends. Maybe the place Ali was referring to in that conversation with her mom was the Radley. Perhaps Ali felt guilty that Jason was there. Maybe it had been Ali's final decision that he go. As much as Aria didn't want to believe that Ali and Jason had issues, maybe they did.

She felt Noel's eyes on her, waiting for an answer. This wasn't worth thinking about now, especially with Noel sitting here. "There's no such thing as ghosts speaking to us from the afterlife," she mustered, parroting Spencer's sentiment.

Noel stared at her indignantly, like Aria had just told him there was no such thing as lacrosse. As he shifted his weight, Aria could smell his spicy, woodsy deodorant. It was surprisingly pleasant. "What if Ali really does have something to tell you? Are you sure you want to give up now?"

Suspicion boiled in Aria's stomach. Fed up, she slammed her palm on the table. "Why do you care? Did someone put you up to this? Is this some weird lacrosse prank to embarrass me?"

"No!" Noel's mouth drooped. "Of course not!"

"Then why were you at a seance? Guys like you aren't into this stuff?"

Noel lowered his chin. "What do you mean, guys like me?"

Meredith slammed an upstairs door shut, making the whole house shiver. Aria had never actually told anyone that she'd dubbed guys like Noel Typical Rosewood Boys—not her parents, not her friends, and certainly not a Typical Rosewood Boy himself. "You seem so, well, preppy," she fudged. "Well adjusted."

Noel rested his elbow on a stack of baby catalogues, his dark hair falling into his face. He breathed in a couple of times, as if he was ramping up to say something, and finally looked up. "Okay, it's true—I don't go to seances because I like Led Zeppelin." He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, then stared into his glass, as if the ice cubes were tea leaves that contained his future. "Ten years ago, when I was six, my brother killed himself."

Aria blinked, caught off guard. She thought of Noel's two brothers, Erik and Preston. They were constant fixtures at the Kahns' house parties, even though they were both in college. "I don't understand."

"My brother Jared." Noel rolled the top catalogue tightly in his hands. "He was a lot older. My parents don't talk about him much anymore."

Aria clutched the edge of the worn table. Noel had had another brother? "How did it happen?"

"Well, my parents were out," Noel explained. "Jared was babysitting me. We were playing Myst, this computer game, but then it got late and I started dozing off. Jared seemed reluctant to put me to bed, but he finally did. When I woke up a while later, something just felt…weird. The house was too quiet or something. So I got up and walked to the end of the hall. Jared's door was closed, and I knocked, but he didn't answer. So I just went in. And…" Noel shrugged and unfurled the catalogue. It flopped open to a page showing a blond, smiling baby in a red bouncy chair. "There he was."

Having no idea what to say, she touched Noel's hand. He didn't pull away.

"He'd…you know. Hung himself." Noel closed his eyes. "I didn't really understand what I was seeing at first. I thought he was just playing or whatever, maybe punishing me because I hadn't stayed up to play Myst with him longer. My parents came home then and I don't remember anything after that."

"God," Aria whispered.

"He was going to Cornell the following year." Noel's voice cracked. "He was an all-star basketball player. His life seemed…awesome. My parents didn't see it coming either. Neither did my brothers or his girlfriend. No one did."

"I'm so sorry," Aria whispered. She felt like an insensitive, sanctimonious ass. Who knew Noel had such an awful secret? And here she thought he'd been just pulling a stupid prank on her. "Have you ever been able to talk to him at seances?"

Noel fiddled with the frog-shaped saltshaker in the middle of the table. "Not really. But I keep trying. And I talk to him at the cemetery a lot. That seems to help."

Aria made a face. "I've tried to do that with Ali, but I always feel so weird. Like I'm talking to myself."

"I don't think so," Noel said. "I think she's listening."

The vacuum cleaner groaned to life, vibrating the ceiling above them. Aria and Noel sat still for a moment, listening. Noel's piercing green eyes met hers. "Can you keep this to yourself? You're kind of the only person who knows."

"Of course," Aria said quickly, studying Noel. He didn't seem mad that she'd forced this out of him at all.

When she looked down, she realized that her hand was still touching his. She pulled it away fast, suddenly feeling very flustered. Noel was still staring at her. Aria's heart began to pound. She fidgeted nervously with the antique silver chain around her neck. Noel moved closer and closer until she could feel his breath on her neck. It smelled like black licorice, one of Aria's favorite candies. She held her breath, waiting.

But then, as if awakening from a dream, Noel jerked back, grabbed his glass from the table, and stood. "I guess I'll go find Mike now. See ya."

Giving her a little wave, he ducked through the archway and into the hall. Aria pressed her cool glass of water to her forehead. For a moment, there she'd thought Noel was going to kiss her. And in a very untypical Aria moment, she kind of wished he had.