Perfect (Book Three)

Thirty-Five: Words Whispered From The Past.

Spencer shut her eyes. When she opened them, she was standing outside the barn in her backyard. She looked around. Had she been transported here? Had she run out here and not remembered?

Suddenly, the barn door swung open and Ali stormed out. "Fine," Ali said over her shoulder, arms swinging confidently. "See ya." She walked right past Spencer, as if Spencer were a ghost.

It was the night Ali went missing again. Spencer started breathing faster. As much as she didn't want to be here, she knew that she needed to see all of this—to remember as much as she could.

"Fine!" she heard herself scream from inside the barn. As Ali stormed down the path, Spencer, younger and smaller, flew to the porch. "Ali!" the thirteen-year-old Spencer screamed, looking around.

Then, it was like seventeen-year-old Spencer and the thirteen-year-old Spencer merged into one. She could suddenly feel all the emotions of her younger self. There was fear: what had she done, telling Ali to leave? There was paranoia: none of them had ever challenged Ali. And Ali was angry with her. What was she going to do?

"Ali!" Spencer screamed. The tiny, pagoda-shaped lanterns on the footpath back to the main house provided only a whisper of light. It seemed like things were moving in the woods. Years ago, Melissa had told Spencer that evil trolls lived in the trees. The trolls hated Spencer and wanted to hack off her hair.

Spencer walked to where the path split: she could either go toward her house, or toward the woods that bounded her property. She wished she'd brought a flashlight. A bat swooped out of the trees. As it flew away, Spencer noticed someone far down the path near the woods, hunched over and looking at her cell phone. Ali.

"What are you doing?" Spencer called out.

Ali narrowed her eyes. "I'm going somewhere way cooler than hanging out with you guys."

Spencer stiffened. "Fine," she said proudly. "Go."

Ali sank onto one hip. The crickets chirped at least twenty time before she spoke again. "You try to steal everything from me. But you can't have this."

"Can't have what?" Spencer shivered in her tissue-thin T-shirt.

Ali laughed nastily. "You know."

Spencer blinked. "No...I don't."

"Come on. You read about it in my diary, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't read your stupid diary," Spencer spat. "I don't care."

"Right." Ali took a step toward Spencer. "You care way too much."

"You're delusional," Spencer sputtered.

"No, I'm not." Ali was right next to her now. "You are."

Anger boiled up inside Spencer, and she shoved Ali on the shoulder. It was forceful enough to make Ali stagger back, losing her footing on the path's rocks, which were slippery with dew. The older Spencer winced. She felt like she was a pawn, being dragged along for the ride. A look of surprise crossed Ali's face, but it quickly turned to mocking. "Friends don't shove friends."

"Well, maybe we're not friends," Spencer said.

"Guess not," Ali said. Her eyes danced. The look on her face indicated she had something really juicy to say. There was a long pause before she spoke, as if she was considering er words very, very carefully. Hang on, Spencer urged herself. REMEMBER.

"You think kissing Ian was so special," Ali growled. "But you know what he told me? That you didn't even know how."

Spencer searched Ali's face. "Ian...wait. Ian told you that? When?"