Sara Shepard - Pretty Little Liars

I bet you thought I was Alison, didnt you? Well, sorry, but Im not. Duh. Shes dead.

Nope, Im very much aliveand Im very, very close. And for a certain clique of four pretty girls, the fun has just started. Why? Cause I say so.

Naughty behavior deserves punishment, after all. And Rosewoods finest deserve to know that Arias been doing some extra-credit smooching with her English teacher, dont they? Not to mention the nasty family secret shes been hiding for years. The girl is a train wreck.

While Im at it, I really ought to tip Emilys parents off to the reason shes been acting funny lately. Hey there, Mr. and Mrs. Fields, nice weather, huh? And by the way, your daughter likes kissing girls.

Then theres Hanna. Poor Hanna. Just free-falling into dorkdom. She may try to claw her way back to the top, but dont worryIll be there waiting to knock her rapidly growing behind back into a pair of stonewashed mom-jeans.

Oh my god, I almost forgot Spencer. Shes a total mess! After all, her family thinks shes a completely worthless skank. Thats gotta suck. And just between us, its about to get much worse. Spencers keeping a deep, dark secret that could pretty much ruin all four of their lives. But who would tell such an awful secret? Oh, I dont know. Take a wild guess.

Bingo.

Lifes so much fun when you know everything.

Just how do I know so much? Youre probably dying to know, arent you? Well, relax. All in due time.

Believe me, Id love to tell you. But whats the fun in that?

Ill be watching. A

Someone finally bought the DiLaurentises old house, Emily Fieldss mother said. It was Saturday afternoon, and Mrs. Fields sat at the kitchen table, bifocals perched on her nose, calmly doing her bills.

Emily felt the Vanilla Coke she was drinking fizz up her nose.

I think another girl your age moved in, Mrs. Fields continued. I was going to drop off that basket today. Maybe you want to do it instead? She pointed to the cellophaned monstrosity on the counter.

God, Mom, no , Emily replied. Since shed retired from teaching elementary school last year, Emilys mom had become the unofficial Rosewood, Pennsylvania, Welcome Wagon lady. She assembled a million random thingsdried fruit, those flat rubber thingies you use to get jars open, ceramic chickens (Emilys mom was chicken-obsessed), a guide to Rosewood inns, whateverinto a big wicker welcome basket. She was a prototypical suburban mom, minus the SUV. She thought they were ostentatious and gas-guzzling, so she drove an oh-so-practical Volvo wagon instead.

Mrs. Fields stood and ran her fingers through Emilys chlorine-damaged hair. Would it upset you too much to go there, sweetie? Maybe I should send Carolyn?

Emily glanced at her sister Carolyn, who was a year older and lounging comfortably on the La-Z-Boy in the den watching Dr. Phil . Emily shook her head. No, its fine. Ill do it.

Sure, Emily whined sometimes and occasionally rolled her eyes. But the truth was, if her mom asked, Emily would do whatever she was supposed to do. She was a nearly straight-A, four-time state champion butterflyer and hyper-obedient daughter. Following rules and requests came easily to her.

Plus, deep down she kind of wanted a reason to see Alisons house again. While it seemed the rest of Rosewood had started to move on from Alis disappearance three years, two months, and twelve days ago, Emily hadnt. Even now, she couldnt glance at her seventh-grade yearbook without wanting to curl up in a ball. Sometimes on rainy days, Emily still reread Alis old notes, which she stored in a shell-top Adidas shoe box under her bed. She even kept a pair of Citizens corduroys Ali had let her borrow on a wooden hanger in her closet, even though they were now way too small on her. Shed spent the last few lonely years in Rosewood longing for another friend like Ali, but that probably wasnt going to happen. She hadnt been a perfect friend, but for all her flaws, Ali was pretty tough to replace.

Emily straightened up and grabbed the Volvos keys from the hook next to the phone. Ill be back in a little while, she called as she closed the front door behind her.

The first thing she saw when she pulled up to Alisons old Victorian home at the top of the leafy street was a huge pile of trash on the curb and a big sign marked, FREE ! Squinting, she realized that some of it was Alisons stuffshe recognized Alis old, overstuffed white corduroy bedroom chair. The DiLaurentises had moved away almost nine months ago. Apparently theyd left some things behind.

She parked behind a giant Bekins moving van and got out of the Volvo. Whoa, she whispered, trying to keep her bottom lip from trembling. Under the chair, there were several piles of grimy books. Emily reached down and looked at the spines. The Red Badge of Courage. The Prince and the Pauper. She remembered reading them in Mr. Pierces seventh-grade English class, talking about symbolism, metaphors, and denouement. There were more books underneath, including some that just looked like old notebooks. Boxes sat next to the books; they were marked ALISON S CLOTHES and ALISON S OLD PAPERS . Peeking out of a crate was a blue and red ribbon. Emily pulled at it a little. It was a sixth-grade swimming medal shed left at Alisons house one day when theyd made up a game called Olympian Sex Goddesses.