Two days later, just as Ali was leaving the house, Jason stepped in her path and opened the door for her. "You going somewhere?" he asked.
"Why do you care?" Ali asked, feeling prickly.
Jason winced at Ali's tone of voice. "I thought I could give you a ride." He shifted uncomfortably. "I thought maybe we could...talk."
Ali wrapped her hand around the doorjamb, staring at her brother's Vans. What did he want to talk about? The last time they'd really talked, she'd voiced her concern about her parents getting divorced. That was even before she'd found out about her mom's affair. All of a sudden, the desire to tell him about her mother and that strange man pulsed into her. The old her would have. They would have sat in the Radley's common room and dissected the thing to death, trying to figure out why Mom was doing it, who the man could be, what was going to happen next. It was way too hard to keep it to herself. With every passing day, she felt like she was going to burst.
"Ali?" Jason prompted.
She shuddered and jerked up, coming back to reality. She wasn't her old self, and she could never be again. Alison DiLaurentis didn't have that kind of relationship with her brother—he was too moody and weird to care about. She stepped off the porch. "I can get there myself," she called over her shoulder. "I doubt we're going the same direction, anyway."
Ten minutes later, Ali parked her bike in front of the Orvis Hollis Memorial Ice Rink at Hollis College, where she was meeting Emily. Home Of The Hollis Penguins, said a placard by the sidewalk. Boys with ice-hockey stakes slung over their shoulders and long sticks with boomerang-shaped ends sauntered out of the double doors. Even from the street, Ali could smell the rink's freshly popped popcorn and concession-stand hot dogs.
"Alison DiLaurentis ice-skates?"
Ali turned. A black Escalade had pulled up to the curb and Ian Thomas's tanned, handsome face leaned out the window.
Ali walked over to him. 'are you following me, stalker?" she teased.
"You got me." Ian got out of the car walked over to her, stopping so close that they were almost touching. "I just wanted to let you know that I kissed Spencer, just like you asked. So when are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?"
Ali removed a tube of gloss and eased it across her lips The last thing she wanted was to kiss him, but something about the way he was looking at her made her feel superhero-powerful, like she could spin cars over her head or bend bars of steel with her mind. A second later, though, it hit her: Cheating on Nick with Ian made her no better than her mother.
A chill shot through her. Could someone else really be her true father, some random, awful man she didn't know? It made no sense. Her father had taken her and her sister sledding when they were small. He'd come to her dance recitals. He knew that she liked orange juice without pulp and Wawa French coffee. Whatever had happened, if something had happened, she was almost certain he didn't know about it.
And maybe something had happened. Mr. DiLaurentis and Jason had identical toes, the second one larger than the first. And Ali had her mother's blond hair and ice-blue eyes. But she didn't have either of their noses—not her mother's pert little button or her father's ugly hook. For the longest time, she'd been grateful that she hadn't inherited her father's nose, but now she regretted it. And where had her bow lips and sarcastic smile come from? She had started at her father for so long at dinner last night that he'd asked her twice if there was something wrong.
Ian moved his hand toward Ali's arm, but Ali stepped away before he could stroke her wrist. "You know what? I've changed my mind. I'll only give you a kiss if you break up with your girlfriend?"
Ian's brow furrowed. "Melissa?"
Ali barked out a laugh. "No, Spencer. Of course Melissa. I'm not the type who goes for guys who are already taken."
Ian crossed his arms over his chest. "It's just a kiss."
"My deal is final." She spun around and sauntered toward the entrance to the ice rink.
The inside of the ice rink was dark and chilly. Team pennants and championship plaques hung on the walls, and eighties New Wave music blared from the speakers. A Zamboni groaned back and forth on the ice, clearing away all the nicks. Several little kids stood impatiently against the Plexiglas walls, their stake-clad ankles wobbling.
Ali spied Emily at the rental desk. When Emily turned and smiled, Ali's stomach flipped over. This was the first time she'd been alone with Emily since she'd discovered the heart in Emily's notebook. Even though she was almost positive Emily had no idea Ali knew about it, she still felt shaky, like Emily might guess that she knew.
And how could she not know? Ali had run out of the dressing room so fast. She hadn't even tried to hide it, which wasn't like her at all. It made her paranoid about all the other secrets in her life. What if people found out about those?
"Hey," Emily said softly as she approached. There were two pairs of white ice skates looped over her wrist, and she wore a heavy cable-knit sweater and jeans. She handed Ali a pair of size-seven skates and sat down on the bench. "Thanks for meeting me. This is going to be so fun."
"If you like dodging like kids," Ali said, watching as kids in Girl Scouts uniforms and brown rental skates spilled out of the bathroom. "And falling on your butt. I haven't staked since I was little."
"Don't worry," Emily said softly. "I'll help you."
Ali looked at her friend, thinking about that heart again. I love Ali, it had said. Ali loved her, too, but not like that. She still didn't know whether to be flattered or just completely weirded out.
Ali shoved her heel into the skate boot and pulled the laces tight. She'd just finished tying a bow when the Zamboni rolled off the ice and the guards opened the gates again. The little kids dashed for the center. Disco lights dazzled the newly shiny ice. A Flo Rida song started to play.
Ali's ankles wobbled as soon as they stepped on the ice. Emily extended her arm. "Grab on. I got you."
Ali clung to Emily's sleeve. Her feet zigzagged under her, and she thrust out her other arm to get her balance. When a boy in ice-hockey skates and a Flyers jersey whizzed past, almost clipping her side, Ali listed to the left, but her feet veered right. Suddenly, she was on her butt on the cold ice.
"Oops!" Emily said, helping Ali up. She navigated both of them toward the wall and instructed Ali to hold on for a moment. "Move your feet like this, in a glide," she explained, demonstrating. Her skate cut a perfect line in the ice. "Keep your ankles stiff. And don't stare at your feet—that'll definitely make you fall."
"I'm not falling ever again," Ali muttered. But she tentatively pushed off the wall and tried to copy Emily's movements. Her ankles wanted to turn, and her thighs burned even more than they did after running up and down the field hockey field, but after two laps around the rink, she started to get the hang of it. Actually, it was almost fun.
"See?" Emily said. "You love it, don't you?"
"Don't tell anyone," Ali said, winking.
"Promise," Emily said, giving Ali another-twisting smile. Ali smiled back, but then jerkily turned away.
They wove around a bunch of Girl Scouts skating in a clump and ogled the figure skates who were doing complicated jumps in the center. Then Emily cleared her throat. "Are you excited for graduation?"
"Definitely," Ali said. The ceremony was coming up, and they all got to wear official-looking gowns and caps, just like the seniors. "In fact, I'm going to have a little get-together the weekend before. I'll probably invite Cassie and some of the other girls, so it will be mixed grades. Hanna is going to invite her friend Josie, too."
"Oh." Emily disconcerted expression didn't quite match her chipper tone of voice. "Are we still having an end-of-seventh-grade sleepover?"
"As far as I know," Ali said. "Why?"
"I just wasn't sure." Two pink spots appeared on Emily's cheeks. "I mean, I haven't seen you much lately. You haven't, like, texted. I thought you were mad at me."
Ali stared at the big Pepsi clock on the wall. "I've just been busy."
"Okay." Emily's voice shook. "So...you're not mad?"
Ali looked at her challengingly. "What would I be mad about?"
For a split second, she almost wanted Emily to say it. I know you saw what I wrote about you in my notebook. Maybe it would be better to get it out in the open.
"Nothing!" Emily said quickly. For a moment, she almost lost her balance, her skates slipping in opposite directions and her arms wheeling in a circle.
Ali grabbed a loop of her jeans to keep her upright. For a moment, she held Emily's gaze, daring her to look away. Suddenly, she pictured Emily losing interest in her, Ali becoming just another friend, the generous, awestruck compliments coming to an end. Even though she didn't return Emily's feelings, there was something about it that made her feel just as powerful as what she was doing with Ian.
She cleared her throat. "You look cute today, Em."
A bewildered look fluttered across Emily's features. "I do?"
"Uh-huh. Your hair looks nice. And I didn't realize how tiny your butt was from swimming."
"Oh my God, my butt is huge." Emily looked like she was about to faint. "Well, you always look nice, Ali."
"Well, then I guess we're both gorgeous," Ali said, nudging her playfully.
Emily's mouth twitched with excitement. "You're definitely the prettiest girl in this rink. In Rosewood. Sometimes I can't even believe I know you."
Ali felt heat rush to her face, tears dot in her eyes—she hadn't known how much she'd needed that sort of stuff said to her. Embarrassed, she turned away and swallowed it down. "I can't believe I know you, either, Em." She meant it in more ways than one: If she hadn't switched with her sister, she hadn't known Emily.
The lights in the rink suddenly dimmed, and a slow song began to play. The little kids hurried off the ice, and the remaining couples glided toward each other to slow-dance skate.
"Couples skate only," an announcer's voice said over the loudspeaker. "Grab the one you love."
A disco ball snapped on, sending shards of sparkling light all around the glassy rink. Ali turned to Emily, her heart thudding fast. "Wanna dance?"
Emily's lips parted, and her eyes widened. "With you?" she said, shocked.
Ali smiled lazily, trying to control her jumping heart. "Sure, with me. girls can skate with girls, can't they?"
She placed her hands on Emily's waist. She tried to ignore Emily's shaking fingers as Emily wrapped them around Ali's neck. After a moment, Emily shut her eyes. A tiny smile appeared on her face. They swayed back and forth to the beat.
"This feels good, doesn't it?" Ali whispered in Emily's ear.
Emily nodded nervously. When Ali pulled her even closer, Emily let out the tiniest sigh. The disco lights dappled against their faces. Ali could feel Emily's lungs rapidly expand and contract.
Bzzzz.
Ali's back pocket vibrated. She reached for it and pulled out her phone. Call from anonymous, it said.
Reality came tumbling back, and Ali pulled away. "Hello?" she demanded into the phone, stopping short on the ice. A couple almost collided with her, but she didn't care.
No answer, just breathing. "Say something!" Ali screamed. "I know who this is!"
Her sister didn't speak, only let out a small, high-pitched giggle.
"Ali?"
Emily touched her arm. Ali stared at her, the phone limp in her hand. Emily's eyes flicked to it. "Who is it?" she asked worriedly.
Ali shook her head quickly. "It's just Cassie," she said, pulling the first name she could think of out of her mind. "We've been pranking each other all week. No biggie."
Emily pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. "Are you...sure?"
"Uh-huh," Ali chirped, shoving her phone back into her pocket. It vibrated again, but she ignored it.
Another slow song started up, and Emily reached for Ali's hand once more. But Ali pulled away, feeling sweaty and flustered and way, way too visible. What if her sister was somehow watching right now? What if she saw Ali doing this and thought she was dancing with Emily for real?
"I think one slow dance is enough for today, don't you, Em?" she asked, trying to make her voice teasing, even though she was exhausted and frazzled.
Emily's cheeks turned pink. "O-of course! I didn't want to dance! I just wanted to get a hot dog—and I wanted to see if you wanted one, too!"
But the devoted smile lingered in Ali's mind, and as they glided toward the exit, a sour feeling welled in her stomach. Saying nice things hit Emily in her sweetest, squishiest, most vulnerable spot. And while teasing out vulnerability was usually Ali's specialty, something about this made her feel especially guilty.
Perhaps it was because Emily was her best friend. Or perhaps it was because, deep down, the things Emily said back sometimes made Ali feel squishy and vulnerable, too.