Pretty Little Liars

Chapter 17: The Remy Thing

That same day at lunch, instead of sitting with her usual theater friends, Sabrina finds herself sitting next to Neah and across from Bree and Dakota at a cafeteria table. The last time they sat with these girls at the same table was in middle school with Ali. Now, they all wear the same expression: wide eyed and fidgety after that meeting with Detective Bass.

"I think he knows that we're lying," Dakota whispers, hunched over her tray of a tofu burger. "Not about Ali, but I think he knows we did something. Something bad."

The Remy Thing floods into Sabrina's mind again and she shudders, feeling nauseous to her stomach all over again. She shoves her tray of food away from her, resting her elbows on the table. Fourth of July two summers ago is one none of them can erase from their minds and Sabrina is finding herself to get real fed up with it.

"Do you think there's a chance that he could know?" Dakota bites her pinkie nail, flakes of electric blue nail polish chipping off.

Neah shrugs. "I think Carter can go choke on a--"

"Neah." Sabrina shoots her a motherly look and glances over her shoulder. "I don't think you should be talking that way about a police officer. Especially one that already thinks we're guilty of something."

"We are guilty of something," Bree reminds her, stuffing a fry into her mouth.

"Guys, I doubt he knows anything," Neah assures. "He's just grasping at straws. That's kind of what cops do. He probably just wants to pressure us into pushing him into the right direction."

The girls exchange looks but a presence near the vending machines catches her eye. Remy appears in the cafeteria, the burns on his face different hues of color under the florescent lights of the cafeteria. A junior, Scott Chin, is carrying his tray for him, Remy's gloved hands slipped into the pockets of his black hoodie.

Sabrina shamefully looks away. "If only we could go back to that night."

She remembers it like it was yesterday, probably because it still haunts her dreams. The girls were in Neah's bedroom the night of the fourth, swapping clothes in front of the mirror and arguing over tops and shorts to wear to Tyler Firestone's annual barbecue. Music from small speakers on the dresser boomed against the walls and the lamp on the bedside table was flicked on.

"This top would look gorgeous on you," Ali told Sabrina, holding a top over Sabrina's front from behind her. It was one of Ali's articles of clothing, with a plunging neckline and lace on the sides.

Sabrina blushed and admired the way the top could fit. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Ali winked at her through the mirror.

"I like this one," Dakota chirped, sporting one of Bree's polka-dotted baby doll dresses with chunk boots and an obnoxious sunhat. "I feel vintage."

Neah laughed. "Rustic."

Ali pulled a deep red top over her boobs, tossing her blond hair over her shoulders. "Looks like you're in disguise, Dakota. Is that on purpose?"

Dakota quickly took the hat off and raked her fingers through her hair. "No."

Ali smirked, twisting and turning in the body mirror that was clung onto the back of Neah's closet door. She gasped loudly, whirling around on her heel, her golden locks slicing through the air. "Oh my God! Did you see that?"

Alison raced across the carpet, shouldering past Bree and Sabrina to get to the window.

"What was it?" Bree asked, her eyebrows pulling together.