Ali's Pretty Little Lies (Pretty Little Liars: Prequel)

“You did have to go away,” Courtney said, her voice eerily calm. “And you’re going to have to go again. You’re going to tell everyone what you did. And they’re never, ever going to forgive you.”

 

 

Fear streaked through Ali’s veins, but she stood her ground. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, planting her feet in the wet, chilly grass. She laughed as confidently as she could. “Do you really think it would be easy for you to step into my life and be me? I’ve done things you aren’t capable of. I’m better at being you than you ever were.”

 

“It’s my life,” her sister snarled, placing her hands firmly on Ali’s shoulders. “You really think I’m going to have a hard time? I can even be friends with those stupid bitches, if that’s what it takes. I can do this with my eyes closed.”

 

“No, you can’t,” Ali said. “You don’t know anything.”

 

Courtney snorted. “Please. I read your diary—my diary. I know everything about them, about you. You put every secret in there, everything important.”

 

“Not everything,” Ali snapped, thinking of Nick. Thank God she’d left him out. She wished she could lord that over Courtney right now—he had, after all, been her unrequited crush. But now that they were over, her twin would just laugh at her.

 

“You certainly put in enough in your diary,” Courtney taunted. “That’s how I figured out that we’ve been calling the wrong guy Dad. Watch where you store your secrets, Ali. Anyone can open up a diary and find out all kinds of things.” She took Ali’s arm. “And now it’s time for you to say good-bye. Let’s go find Mom and our real father, shall we? We can tell them everything!”

 

She clamped down hard on Ali’s shoulders and tried to steer her toward the Hastingses’ house, but Ali folded her body in half and twisted away. Courtney grabbed her around the waist and yanked her across the grass, but Ali stumbled, pulling her sister down with her.

 

“Get up, bitch!” Courtney yelled.

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Ali pulled hard on her twin’s hair and rolled over on top of Courtney, pinning her onto the prickly grass. The old feelings rushed back—she was that little nine-year-old girl again, fighting against a force so crazy, so manipulative, she didn’t know what else to do but hit her, punch her, lose her mind.

 

But then, suddenly, she snapped back into herself. This was crazy. She hated her sister, but she couldn’t fall back into that trap. She had to be the bigger person.

 

She rolled off Courtney, stood, and started toward the house. But just a few steps in, a hand snaked around her ankle, and she was sprawled on the grass once more. She felt her sister’s body press on top of her. The ends of her long hair tickled the back of Ali’s neck.

 

“I guess it’s plan B, then,” Courtney whispered. She moved off Ali and, before Ali could go anywhere, grabbed Ali’s ankles and dragged her toward the very edge of the property as though she were a rag doll. Ali howled and clawed at the ground, but her fingers couldn’t get a grip. When they passed some of the discarded tools, her heart picked up pace. Was she dragging her toward the hole?

 

Ali tried to call out, but she couldn’t draw in a full breath. The house was so far away, the Hastingses’ barn now dark. Where had her friends gone? Had they left? Then she thought of Ian, waiting for her in the woods somewhere. Maybe he was the one who’d been smoking. She peered desperately into the black trees, praying he saw her. But the forest was silent. No branches crackled underfoot. No one emerged.

 

Her twin stopped dragging her when she was at the edge of the hole. Ali tried to scramble up, but Courtney pushed her down again, her eyes blazing. “I should have done this years ago,” she growled. And then she shot her hands toward Ali’s neck, ready to strangle her.

 

“No!” Ali screamed. “Please!”

 

But her twin just tightened her grip. “You deserve this,” she said in a detached, almost automated voice. “You deserve to die for what you did.”

 

No, I don’t! Ali kicked her legs and thrashed her arms. She twisted her neck and got a gulp of air. “I’ll do anything!” she cried. “Tell the truth—I don’t care! Just don’t kill me!”

 

“You deserve to die,” Courtney repeated.

 

When she readjusted for a better grip, Ali took a huge breath, her lungs screaming. “Remember how it used to be? When we used to be friends?”

 

“We were never friends,” her twin hissed.

 

“Yes, we were! I loved you! You loved me! I . . . I miss that!”

 

Courtney’s grip let up just a little bit, and Ali twisted to the side to free herself. She coughed violently, her lungs feeling like they’d never fill again. She scrambled backward, sat up, and looked hard at her sister. Courtney was breathing hard, her eyes wide. She stared at her hands with wonderment, as if she’d never seen them before.

 

Then she looked up at Ali. “I can’t,” she said in a small voice.

 

“Can’t what?” Ali dared to ask.

 

Courtney’s jaw trembled. “I want to kill you. But I can’t.”

 

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