Pretty Little Liars 6 Killer - Comments on

parents bankrolled the town.
She marched up to him and poked his arm. Noel turned and brightened. “Hanna!” He smelled as if he’d
drunk a whole bathtub of tequila.
“Where’s Mike?”
Noel threw his legs over the chair. His pant legs rose slightly, revealing blue-and-red argyle socks. “Don’t
know. But I should kiss you.”
Ugh. “Why?”
“Because,” he slurred. “You won me five hundred bucks.”
She stepped back. “Excuse me?”
Noel brought his cocktail, a reddish drink that looked a lot like Red Bull and vodka, to his lips. Liquid
dribbled
down his shirt and pooled on the seat of the chair. A few Quaker school girls sitting on paisleyupholstered
footstools nudged one another, giggling. How could they think Noel was hot? If this were really
Versailles,
Noel wouldn’t be the Louis XIV. He’d be the French version of the village idiot.
“The whole lax team had a bet going to see who Mike could get to take him to the prom,” Noel
explained.
“You or your hottie stepsister. We made the bet after you started throwing yourselves at him. I’m going
to
give Mike half my winnings for being such a good sport.”
Hanna ran her hands along the piece of her Time Capsule flag, which she’d tied to the chain of her
Chanel
purse. She felt the color drain from her face.
Noel nudged his head toward the door. “If you don’t believe me, ask Mike yourself.”
Hanna turned. Mike was leaning against one of the Grecian-style columns, smiling at a girl from Tate
Prep.
Hanna let out a low growl and made a beeline to him. When Mike saw her, he grinned sheepishly.