Burned

7 A PARTNER IN CRIME

That morning, Aria and about thirty other kids stood in the shade of the giant pink waterslide on the top deck of the cruise ship, eagerly awaiting the start of the Eco Scavenger Hunt. The air smelled like wood-floor cleaner, spicy deodorant, and boat fuel that the captain had insisted was totally eco-friendly, though Aria had her doubts. Everyone fanned their faces, applied high-powered sunscreen to ward off the punishing Caribbean sun, and chattered excitedly about what the activity was going to entail.

Finally, the activity leader got off her cell phone and turned to the group. “Welcome!” she cried, her freckly face breaking into a smile. “My name is Gretchen Vine, and you guys are in for a treat. Think of this hunt like The Amazing Race—we give you clues and cash to get to your destination, and the first group to figure out all the riddles wins.”

“Wins what?” a brunette girl whose string bikini straps peeked out from underneath her shirt asked.

Gretchen smiled and unveiled two white gift certificates to the Apple Store, and everyone oohed. “They’re worth a thousand dollars each.”

Then Gretchen passed out little red wallets that said ECO TREASURE HUNT on the front. “Carry your clues in here,” she instructed. “You’ll need to show me what you found at the end of each day.”

“Will we get to do any camping? Extreme hikes? Role-playing?” a boy called.

Gretchen frowned, fiddling with her necklace. “Well, we need you to return to the ship every night—otherwise we’d have to send out a search party. The hikes take you over a lot of terrain, but I wouldn’t call them extreme. And I’m not sure what you mean by role-playing—perhaps you can elaborate?”

The speaker, a guy with longish brown hair and thick eyebrows, waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it.”

Gretchen told them they would have to scour beachheads, traipse over dunes, bushwhack through tropical rain forests, and navigate busy city streets to extract information that would lead them, ultimately, to the prize. Aria exchanged excited glances with kids next to her. There were quite a few couples holding hands in the group, and she felt a longing pang. Maybe Noel would have chosen the scavenger hunt if he had known about the prize.

“Okay, the first thing I need you guys to do is split up into groups of two,” Gretchen said after she’d called roll.

The couples paired up. Other kids turned to people they knew. Aria spun around, but everyone from Rosewood Day had already found partners. Even her roommate, a sweet, quiet girl named Sasha who’d also signed up for the scavenger hunt, had paired up with another bookish-looking girl from her school. As more and more people grouped together, she felt a self-conscious twinge. Years ago, when kids at Rosewood Day teamed up at recess, formed partnerships in art class, or picked groups for an English project, goofy, friendless Aria was often the last to be chosen. Is it because I have a pink stripe in my hair? she would wonder. Or is it because of some innate, loserish quality that I don’t even know I have?

“Those of you who don’t have a partner, raise your hands,” Gretchen announced.

Aria sheepishly lifted her palm a few inches. Several other kids did, too.

Gretchen matched those who didn’t have partners with one another. When she got to Aria, she pointed her toward the guy who’d just asked about camping and role-playing. “You two okay to work together?”

The boy looked at Aria and shrugged. “That’s cool.” He extended a hand to Aria. “I’m Graham Pratt.”

“Aria Montgomery.” She smiled at him. He had pretty hazel eyes and wore gray Toms shoes, beaten-up Army-surplus shorts, and a faded T-shirt with what looked like a shield on the front and a small hole in the shoulder.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked. He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. “Do you go to a school on the Main Line?”

Graham’s brow crinkled. “No, I go to school in Philly.” Then he brightened. “Wait. Are you in SCA?”

“What’s that?”

“Society for Creative Anachronism!” Graham grinned.

Aria hid a smile. Her cousin Stewart was in SCA, and he talked about it nonstop. It was like a year-round Renaissance Fair, where people role-play parts in a medieval society. He’d met his wife there, in fact—she’d been a kitchen wench, and he played the guy who collected dead plague victims in a wooden cart.

“Uh, no,” Aria answered after a moment. But then, in an attempt at diplomacy, she added, “But it’s always sounded really cool.”

“You should join!” Graham looked excited. “There’s a meet-up in Camden next month.”

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Aria said. “But I still think I know you from somewhere. Did you spend time overseas? I lived in Iceland for a few years, but I traveled to France, Germany, Austria, Holland …”

Graham shook his head. “The last time I went to Europe was with my parents when I was six. Last summer I backpacked through Chile, though.”

“That must have been amazing!”

“It was.” Graham looked wistful. “It was for an SCA conference—we anointed a new king.” Then he peered at her curiously. “What was Iceland like?”

“Magical,” Aria said softly, though when she opened her mouth to wax poetic about Iceland, all she could think about was her last trip to the country, the one she’d taken with Noel, Mike, and Hanna—the one she never wanted to think about again.

She fixed her gaze across the boat instead. Several kids were swimming laps in the pool. Emily, who had volunteered to lifeguard, sat on the stand, twirling a whistle around her finger. Aria considered waving, but Emily seemed like her thoughts were a million miles away.

She turned back to Graham. “So anyway, I’m really excited about the scavenger hunt,” she said, deciding to change the subject.

“Me too,” Graham said. “A buddy of mine was supposed to do it with me, but he changed his mind at the last minute.”

“Yeah, I tried to get my boyfriend into this, but he wanted to surf instead,” Aria said. “It’s cool, though. He seemed really excited for it.”

Graham nodded. “I’m not sure my girlfriend would have wanted to do this, either. She was more of the tanning type.”

“Is she on the cruise?”

Graham scratched his nose, looking uncomfortable. “No. And, uh, well, we’re actually not together anymore, so …” He trailed off and sat down on one of the benches that lined the pool. “So you’re from the Main Line, huh? Does that make you a snob?”

“Far from it!” Aria scoffed. “Most of the time, I feel really out of place there. Like it’s not really where I’m supposed to be.”

“I used to feel that way in my old town—it was a really stuffy suburb, too,” Graham said. “I was thrilled when my family moved to Philly last year.”

“Where did you live before that?” Aria asked.

“Maplewood, New Jersey,” Graham said.

“Maplewood?” Aria blurted. According to the Tabitha Clark Memorial website, Tabitha had gone to high school in Maplewood.

Graham gave a resigned sigh. “Let me guess—you’ve been following the Tabitha Clark case.”

Aria’s stomach felt like it had been filled with hot, explosive fizz. “Did you know her?”

Graham stared into the middle distance, his blue eyes muddy. And then, before he said another word, Aria knew why he looked so familiar. She recalled a video she’d seen on the Tabitha Clark website of a cute boy dancing with Tabitha at prom. She saw his name next to posts about a pizza party fund-raiser in Tabitha’s honor. She even recalled his voice on CNN, talking about the last time he saw Tabitha, a few months before she died.

All of this passed through her mind in a matter of seconds. And then Graham raised his teary eyes to Aria, uttering exactly what she feared. “Yeah. Tabitha was my girlfriend.”