Ali's Pretty Little Lies (Prequel)

Four: Never Trust Someone From California.

"Why didn't you go to the Hastingses' last night?" Ali asked as she climbed into Jason's BMW the following morning for school.

Jason, who had purple circles under his eyes as though he'd gotten no sleep, turned up the college channel on SiriusXM. "I didn't feel like it."

"Half your class was there," Ali argued. "It was a lot of fun." After she and Spencer had made up, they'd danced with cute upperclassmen for the rest of the night. Several guys had asked for her number, not that she'd given it to them. She still felt there was something sketchy about dating someone that much older.

"I wasn't in the mood." Jason shot her a look. "And I didn't like that you went."

Ali scoffed. "Melissa didn't care that Spencer was hanging out."

Jason flinched. "It's not like I'd jump off a bridge if Melissa did it first."

Ali crossed and uncrossed her legs. You would have a year ago, she wanted to blurt. But she doubted Jason had confessed his crush on Melissa to the real Allison.

She looked at Jason. "Do you think Mom and Dad are really stressed about sending you to college?" She gasped. "What if they're broke."

Jason snorted. "They're not broke. I don't think that's what they're worried about, either."

"But they said..." Ali trailed off, thinking of her parents' weird behavior at dinner. "Do you think they lied?"

Jason hit the brakes hard behind a Mercedes coupe, not answering.

Ali ran her fingers up and down the seat belt strap. "What if they're talking getting a divorce?"

Jason twisted his mouth. "I don't think—"

"It makes sense. They're never together anymore. And all that talk at dinner telling us something—it's probably that, don't you think?" She pushed her string bracelet around her wrist. "I'm not surprised, really. Having a daughter like Courtney must really take a toll on a marriage."

The name Courtney hung in the air like a bad smell. Ali rarely said her real name out loud, and definitely never to Jason. He breathed out steadily and evenly, his expression giving away nothing. "Maybe," he finally said.

They pulled down the long, tree-lined drive to Rosewood Day. The stone-and-brick school rose up before them, giving Ali the same tingles she'd felt the very first time she'd come here in sixth grade. This is what I was missing, she'd thought as she'd smoothed her hands over her blazer. I am so going to rock this place.

And she had, of course. Everyone already knew her and bowed down to her. Oh, there had been challenges on the first day; getting lost on her way to gym, confusing Devon Arliss and Dara Artz—luckily they were just thrilled she was speaking to them at all—and flirting with Andrew Campbell, only to realize he was one of the nerdiest kids in school. A few people had given her strange looks when she'd sat down inside the cafeteria—apparently all the cool kids sat outside—but she'd played most things off with panache and ease. The very next day, though, she carried around her sister's old diary, which she'd begun writing in herself, as a cheat sheet to Ali's life.

Jason swung past the lower and middle schools and headed for the parking lot at the back, where all the upperclassmen parked. People spilled out of the cars and talked boisterously. Ali bolted out the door as soon as Jason rolled into a space, and looked for Cassie and her other hockey teammates. But then she spied someone else. Hanna stood at the far end of the parking lot with a tall, thin, dark-haired girl she didn't recognize.

"Ali!" Hanna waved her hands above her head. "Over here!"

Ali strutted over, squinting at the girl. She was pretty—really pretty—and looked like she was at least a freshman. She was carrying an emerald-green fringe bag with a Marc Jacobs logo on the clasp. Ali wanted to think it was knockoff, but it looked way too nice.