Perfect (Book Two)

Five: A House Divided.

Spencer awoke on the floor of her upstairs bathroom with no idea how she'd gotten there. The clock on the shower radio said 6:45 P.M., and out the window, the evening sun cast long shadows on their yard. It was still Monday, the day of Ali's funeral. She must have fallen asleep...and sleepwalked. She used to be a chronic sleepwalker—it got so bad that in seventh grade, she had to spend a night at the University of Pennsylvania Sleep Evaluation Clinic with her brain hooked up to electrodes. The doctors said it was just stress.

She stood up and ran cold water over her face, looking at herself in the mirror: long blond hair, emerald-green eyes, pointed chin. Her skin was flawless and her teeth were radiantly white. It was preposterous that she didn't look as wrecked as the felt.

She ran the equation over again in her head: A knew about Toby and The Jenna Thing. Toby was back. Therefore, Toby had to be A. And he was telling Spencer to keep her mouth shut. It was the same torture from sixth grade, all over again.

She went back to her bedroom and pressed her forehead to the window. To her left was her family's own private windmill—it had long since stopped working, but her parents loved how it gave their property such a rustic, authentic look. To her right, the Do No Cross tape was still all over the DiLaurentises' lawn. The Ali shrine, which consisted of flowers, candles, photos, and other knickknacks in Ali's honor, had grown larger, swallowing the whole cul-de-sac.

Across the street from that was the Cavanaughs' house. Two cars in the driveway, a basketball in the yard, the little red flag up on the mailbox. From the outside, everything seemed so normal. But inside...

Spencer closed her eyes, remembering May of seventh grade, a year after The Jenna Thing. She had boarded the Philadelphia-bound SEPTA train to meet Ali in the city to go shopping. She was so busy texting Ali on her spanking-new Sidekick that it was five or six stops before she noticed there was someone across the aisle. It was Toby. Staring.

Her hands started shaking. Toby had been at boarding school all year, so Spencer hadn't seen him in months. As usual, his hair hung over his eyes and he wore enormous headphones, but something about him that day seemed...stronger. Scarier.

All of the guilty, anxious feelings about The Jenna Thing that Spencer had tried to bury flooded back. I'll get you. She didn't want to be in the same train car as him. She slid one leg into the aisle, then the other, but the conductor abruptly stepped in her way. You going to Thirtieth Street or Market East?" he boomed.

Spencer shrank back. "Thirtieth," she whispered. When the conductor passed, she glanced at Toby again. His face bloomed into a huge, sinister smile. A split second later, his mouth became impassive again, but his eyes said, Just. You. Wait.

Spencer shot up and moved to another car. Ali was waiting for her on the platform at Thirtieth Street, and when they glanced back at the train, Toby was looking straight at them.

"I see someone's been let out of his little prison," Ali said with a smirk.

"Yeah." Spencer tried to laugh it off. "And he's still a loser with a capital L."

But a few weeks later, Ali went missing. And then it wasn't so funny.

A slide-whistle noise coming from Spencer's computer made her jump. It was her new e-mail alert. She paced over to her computer nervously and double-clicked the new message.

Hi, love. Haven't spoken to you in two days, and I'm going crazy missing you. —Wren.

Spencer sighed, a nervous sensation fluttering through her. The moment she'd laid eyes on Wren—her sister had brought him to meet their parents at a family dinner—something had happened to her. It was like...like he'd put a hex on her the second he sat down at Moshulu, took a sip of red wine, and met her eyes. He was British, exotic, witty, and smart, and liked the same indie bands Spencer did. He was just so wrong for milquetoast, prim-and-perfect sister Melissa. But he was so right for Spencer. She knew it...and apparently he did too.