They got out of the car and started toward the party. As Hanna and Ali passed, Hanna noticed a familiar chiseled profile. Darren Wilden. What the hell was he doing here? Booze police?
“Hi, Hanna,” Wilden said, spying her, too. “Long time no see. Everything okay?”
He was staring at her so curiously that Hanna bristled, wondering if she smelled like champagne. Wilden sometimes got all dadlike because he’d dated Hanna’s mom for like a second. “I didn’t drive,” she snapped.
But Wilden’s eyes were now on Ali, who’d moved down the pink carpet. “You and Courtney are friends?” He sounded startled.
Courtney. It was crazy he still thought that was her name. “Uh-huh.”
Wilden scratched his head. “We’ve been trying to get Courtney to talk to us about the note she got from Billy the night of the fire. Maybe you could convince her that it’s really important.”
Hanna pulled her silk scarf tight around her shoulders. “You were the one who rescued her the night of the fire. Why didn’t you ask her then?”
Wilden stared across the drive at Rosewood Day’s main building, a massive redbrick structure that looked more like an old mansion than a school. “It wasn’t exactly the first thing on my mind.”
There was a hardened, stern look on his face. A wary feeling swirled in the pit of Hanna’s gut as she suddenly remembered how Wilden had played chicken with an oncoming car when he’d driven her home from running a few weeks ago. Freak. “Gotta go,” Hanna blurted, scampering away.
The inside of the tent was done up in pinks, reds, and whites, with bouquets of roses everywhere. There were intimate, two-person tables scattered all around the room, complete with votive candles, heart-shaped petit fours, and long-fluted glasses of what Hanna assumed was sparkling cider. Mrs. Betts, one of the art teachers, was giving temporary tattoos in a booth in the corner. Mrs. Reed, the sophomore English teacher, was leaning against the DJ booth, clad in a tight-fitting red gown and heart-shaped sunglasses. There was even an old-fashioned Tunnel of Luv at the far end of the gym. Couples coasted through a makeshift candlelit tunnel in mechanical swans.
Hanna couldn’t help but wonder what Mike was doing that night. Something told her he wasn’t here.
Ali grabbed her arm. “Look!”
Hanna gazed into the crowd. Guys in red ties and girls in flirty pink and white dresses were staring at the sheets of paper she and Ali had Xeroxed this morning. The whispers began immediately. Jade Smythe and Jenny Kestler nudged each other. Two soccer boys hooted at Riley’s use of the word loins. Even Mr. Shay, the wizened old biology teacher who chaperoned every Rosewood Day event, chuckled giddily.
“Kate wants to go to V Club!” Kirsten Cullen tittered.
“I always knew there was something off about Naomi,” exclaimed Gemma Curran.
“When you touch my arms during blocking, I feel there’s a real spark between us,” Lanie Iler guffawed, reading from Riley’s letter to Christophe.
Ali nudged Hanna’s side. “Another problem solved by Ali D!” Her eyes sparkled.
Hanna spied Naomi, Kate, and Riley at the entrance. They were all dressed in identical satin gowns, Kate’s bloodred, Naomi’s virginal bride white, and Riley’s wallflowery blush. They pranced in like princesses.
“Fag hag!” someone croaked. Riley looked up, cocking her head like a dog.
“Hey, Naomi, want to see my Speedo?” another voice called. Naomi frowned.
A boy passed Kate a pink sheet of paper. She gave it a cursory glance at first, but then her jaw dropped. She nudged Naomi and Riley. Naomi covered her mouth. Riley glared around the room, searching for whoever had done this.
The whisperings and giggles intensified. Hanna squared her shoulders, seizing the opportunity. She marched straight up to Kate. “I thought you should have this.” She dropped a silver ring into Kate’s limp palm. “It’s a purity ring. You’ll need it when you join V Club.”
The crowd behind Hanna snickered. Hanna signaled to Scott Chin, her old friend on yearbook. He leaped out with his camera and snapped a picture of Kate’s horrified face. For once, Hanna was on the right side of the joke. They were laughing with her, not at her.
Kate’s cheeks bulged, as if she was about to vomit. “You did this, didn’t you? You and Courtney.”
Hanna shrugged nonchalantly. There was no point in denying it. She turned to Ali, wanting to give credit where credit was due, but Ali was gone.
Kate picked up the crumpled paper from the ground, smoothed it out, and shoved it into her quilted Chanel clutch. “I’m telling Tom about this.”
“Tell him,” Hanna announced. “I don’t care.” And then she realized: She didn’t. So what if Kate told her father? So what if he punished her again? Even if Hanna acted pure and sweet for the rest of her days, her relationship with her dad would never be the same.
Riley flapped her arms up and down like a scrawny chicken. “I get why you’d stoop so low, Hanna. But why would Courtney do this? She’s our friend.”
Hanna leaned against a column decorated with red and white streamers. “Please. You two have had this coming for years.”
“Huh?” Naomi huffed. Her boobs were nearly spilling out of her low-cut dress.
The crowd was getting thicker. More and more kids poured into the room and headed to the dance floor. “Courtney wanted to get back at you, obviously,” she answered loftily. “For what you did to Ali.”
Riley and Naomi exchanged a shocked glance. “Huh?” Riley exhaled. Her breath smelled like banana liqueur.
Hanna gazed down her nose at them. “You did something to Ali. That’s why she ditched you. This is Courtney’s way of getting even.”
Heart-shaped confetti suddenly rained magically from the ceiling, sprinkling the top of Naomi’s blond hair. She didn’t brush them away. “We didn’t do anything to Ali.” She shook her head. “One minute, Ali was our best friend. The next, she acted like she didn’t know us at all. I don’t know why she dropped us cold—or why she picked you to replace us. Everyone thought it was a joke, Hanna. You were such a loser.”
Hanna bristled. “It wasn’t a joke….”
Naomi shrugged. “Whatever. Ali was crazy and a liar, and her sister obviously is, too. They’re identical twins, remember? They share everything.”
Disco lights spiraled above Hanna’s head. She burped, tasting champagne. Her body felt hot, then cold. What they were saying couldn’t be true.
Naomi and Riley remained rigidly still, waiting for Hanna’s response. Finally, Hanna shrugged. “Whatever,” she said airily. “We both know you did something terrible, even if you won’t admit it.”
Hanna flipped her hair over her shoulder and swiveled around. “It’s your funeral!” Naomi called out as she walked away. Not that Hanna listened.
23 HURTS SO GOOD
The enormous Valentine’s Day dance tent was overflowing with people by the time Emily arrived. Heat lamps were set up along the walls, making the room feel cozy but not stuffy, and a DJ in a red velvet jacket bopped on the stage, mixing a Fergie song into something by Lil Wayne. Mason Byers was swinging Lanie Iler around, Big Band–era style. Nicole Hudson and Kelly Hamilton, Naomi and Riley’s on-and-off sophomore toadies, were glaring at each other, annoyed because they’d both worn the same ruffled red gown. A couple of sheets of paper lay on the floor, big shoe marks over them. Emily picked one up. It seemed like a love letter to Sean Ackard. It was signed Kate Randall.