Mona’s eyes boggled. “What are you doing here?” She looked Hanna up and down, her mouth wobbling into a smile. “And where the hell did you get that dress?”
“You sent it to me,” Hanna answered.
Mona stared at her like she was crazy. She pointed at Riley. “That’s the court dress. I changed it. I wanted to be the only one wearing champagne—not all of us.” She looked Hanna up and down. “And certainly not any whales.”
Everyone tittered, even the waitresses and the bartender. Hanna stepped back, confused. The room was quieter for a moment—the DJ was between songs. Mona wrinkled her nose and Hanna suddenly felt like a drawstring had pulled her throat closed. It all made horrible, sickening sense.
Of course Mona hadn’t sent the dress. A had.
“Please leave.” Mona crossed her arms over her chest and stared pointedly at Hanna’s various bulges. “I disinvited you, remember?”
Hanna walked toward Mona, wanting to explain, but she stepped down unsteadily on her gold Jimmy Choo heel. She felt her ankle twist, her legs go out from under her, and her knees hit the ground. Worse, Hanna heard a loud, undeniable riiiiiiiip. Suddenly, her butt felt a lot less constricted. As she twisted around to assess the damage, her side seam gave way, too. The whole side of the dress burst open from Hanna’s ribs to her hip, exposing the thin, lacy straps of her Eberjey bra and thong.
“Oh my God!” Riley cried. Everyone howled with laughter. Hanna tried to cover herself up, but she didn’t know where to start. Mona just stood there and let it happen, beautiful and queenlike in her perfect-fitting gown. It was hard for Hanna to imagine that only days ago, they’d loved each other as only best friends could.
Mona placed her hands on her hips and looked over at the others. “Come on, girls,” she sniffed. “This train wreck isn’t worth our time.”
Hanna’s eyes filled with tears. Kids started to trample away, and someone tripped over Hanna, spilling warm beer on her legs. This train wreck isn’t worth our time. Hanna heard the words echo in her head. Then she thought of something.
Remember when you saw Mona leaving the Bill Beach plastic surgery clinic? Hello, lipo!!
Hanna propped herself up against the cool marble floor. “Hey, Mona.”
Mona turned and stared at her.
Hanna took a deep breath. “You look a lot skinnier since I saw you leaving Bill Beach. For lipo.”
Mona cocked her head. But she didn’t look horrified or embarrassed—just confused. She let out a snort and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Hanna. You’re so pathetic.”
Mona tossed her hair over her shoulder and wove toward the stage. A wall of kids quickly separated them. Hanna sat up, covering the tear on her side with one hand and the tear on her ass with the other. And then, she saw it: her face, magnified a billion times on the Jumbotron screen. There was a long, panning shot of her dress. The fat under her arms bulged. The lines of her thong showed through the tight fabric. The Hanna on the screen took a step toward Mona and toppled over. The camera captured her dress splitting apart.
Hanna screamed and covered her eyes. Everyone’s laughter felt like needles tattooing her skin. Then she felt a hand on her back. “Hanna.”
Hanna peeped through her hands. “Lucas?”
He was wearing dark trousers, an Atlantic Records T-shirt, and a pinstriped jacket. His longish blond hair looked thick and wild. The look on his face said he’d seen everything.
He took off his jacket and handed it to her. “Here. Put this on. Let’s get you out of here.”
Mona was climbing onstage. The crowd quivered with anticipation. On any normal party night, Hanna would have been front and center, ready to grind to the music. But instead, she grabbed Lucas’s arm.
30 CHANGE IS GOOD…EXCEPT WHEN IT’S NOT
On Saturday evening, Emily laced up her rental ice skates until she could barely feel the circulation in her feet. “I can’t believe we have to wear three pairs of socks,” she complained to Becka, who was next to her on the bench, lacing up the pair of white skates she’d brought from home.
“I know,” Becka agreed, adjusting her lace headband.
“But it keeps your feet from getting cold.”
Emily tied her skate laces in a bow. It had to be about fifty degrees in the rink, but she was only in a Rosewood Swimming short-sleeve T-shirt. She felt so numb, cold didn’t affect her. On the way here, Emily told Becka that her first Tree Tops session was Monday. Becka seemed startled, then happy. Emily didn’t say much else the rest of the ride over. All she was thinking about was how she’d rather be with Maya.
Maya. Whenever Emily shut her eyes, she saw Maya’s angry face in the greenhouse. Emily’s cell phone had been quiet all day. Part of her wanted Maya to call, to try to get Emily back. And then of course, part of her didn’t. She tried to look at the positives—now that her parents saw that she was really making a commitment to Tree Tops, they had been kinder to her. At Saturday swim practice, Coach Lauren had told her that the U of A swim coach still wanted to meet with her. All the swim team boys were still hitting on her and inviting Emily to hot-tub parties, but it was better than them making fun of her. And as they were driving home from practice, Carolyn had said, “I like this CD,” when Emily slid some old No Doubt into the player. It was a start.
Emily stared at the ice rink. After The Jenna Thing, she and Ali used to come here practically every weekend, and nothing about the place had changed since then. There were still the same blue benches that everyone sat on to lace up their boots, the machine that dispensed hot chocolate that tasted like aspirin, the giant plastic polar bear that greeted everyone at the main entrance. The whole thing was so eerily nostalgic, Emily almost expected to see Ali out on the ice practicing her backward crossovers. The rink was practically empty tonight, though—there were clusters of kids, but no one Emily’s age. Most likely, they were all at Mona’s party—in a parallel world, Emily would have been there too.
“Becka?”
Emily and Becka looked up. A tall girl with short dark curly hair, a button nose, and hazel eyes stared at them. She had on a pink A-line dress, white cable-knit tights, a delicate pearl bracelet, and hot pink lip gloss. A pair of white ice skates with rainbow laces dangled from her wrists.
“Wendy!” Becka cried, standing up. She went to hug Wendy but then seemed to correct herself and stood back. “You’re…you’re here!”
Wendy had a big smile on her face. “Wow, Becks. You look…great.”
Becka smiled sheepishly. “So do you.” She inspected Wendy almost in disbelief, as if Wendy had been resurrected from the dead. “You cut your hair.”
Wendy touched it self-consciously. “Is it too short?”
“No!” Becka said quickly. “It’s really cute.”
Both of them kept smiling and giggling. Emily coughed, and Becka looked over. “Oh! This is Emily. My new Tree Tops friend.”
Emily shook Wendy’s hand. Wendy’s short fingernails were painted seashell pink, and there was a Pokémon appliqué on her thumb.
Wendy sat down and started lacing up her skates. “Do you guys skate a lot?” Emily asked. “You both have your own skates.”
“We used to,” Wendy said, glancing at Becka. “We took lessons together. Well…sort of.”