Ali and Chloe Forever (Book 1)

Chapter 8: When You Wish Upon A Windmill

The following afternoon, Chloe stood on the porch of Emily's house. She rang the doorbell, feeling a wave of excitement. Tonight was the night she was going to run away with Ali, but she had to say goodbye to one more person first: Emily. As she waited for the door to open, she thought of the coffee and the cinnamon roll Ali had bought for her yesterday. When she'd come home from school, she found them both in fridge, as though someone had put them there when no one was around. Attached to the coffee was a note. To: Chloe From:A

The door opened, breaking Chloe from her thoughts. Emily appeared in the doorway, then a blond head appeared behind her. It was Courtney. "Hi, Chloe," Emily said.

"Hey, Emily," Chloe said. She paused, wondering if she should ask the question she was about to ask. "I've been thinking about the dance this Saturday."

Emily stepped out onto the stoop. "Are you okay?"

Chloe looked at the bushes, expecting Ali to be hiding in there. "It'll be a year since everything happened."

"Are you still receiving messages from A?" Emily asked.

Chloe shook her head. "No. They stopped a while ago, shortly before I took off that day. I guess it was a copycat A doing all this."

Emily looked out at the cornfield, then back at Chloe. Something about the look on her face indicated that she wasn't convinced Ali was dead. "Do you miss her?" Emily asked.

Chloe looked back at the cornfield. "I don't miss the evil monster who was A. But I miss the big sister she was."

"Ali wasn't completely bad," Courtney said, causing Chloe to look back at her and Emily. "She loved you very much. She just hated the thought of anyone else having your attention."

"But why?" Chloe asked. That was something she never understood. Why was Ali was obsessed with her? Why did Ali want Chloe's love and attention so desperately? You're the only person who can make my bad thoughts go away, Ali's voice said.

Courtney stepped onto the stoop and kissed Emily's lips. They look so cute together, Chloe thought. She remembered the night of the Valentine's Day dance last year, most importantly, what she saw in the girls' bathroom. Ali and Naomi.

"Ali was crazy, but you shouldn't worry about her so much anymore," Emily said. "She's gone."

Chloe smiled. "Okay. Well, I have to go figure out what I'm going to wear to the dance."

They said their goodbyes, and Emily and Courtney went back into the house. The door closed quietly, and Chloe turned to step off the porch. A twig cracked in the distance, and she glanced toward the cornfields, feeling that old, familiar sense of unease. This was too much of a coincidence: Someone was back there. Someone was watching her. "Hello?" she called, stepping off the porch.

But no one answered. Whatever—or whoever—it was had vanished.

Later, as the sun was sinking beneath the horizon, turning all of Rosewood pitch-black, Chloe watched out her bedroom window, the woods staring eerily back at her. Ali's in there, Chloe thought. She's waiting for me to meet her.

A door slammed downstairs. Her father spoke in a muffled voice, then her mother. Chloe looked up, her stomach burbling. She wasn't sure if now was the right time to go meet Ali, but she knew she had to try. She glanced out her window at the woods again, then stood and walked downstairs.

The air smelled like the baked brie her parents always bought at the Fresh Fields deli counter, and the family's two labradoodles, Rufus and Beatrice, were lazing on the big round rug by the breakfast nook. Melissa was in the kitchen, too, scuttling around, piling the design magazines and books she'd scattered around the room into a paper shopping bag. Veronica was rifling through the drawer that held all the phone books and numbers for the various people who helped around the house—landscapers, driveway sealers, electricians. Peter was pacing from the kitchen to the dining room, his cell phone to his ear.