“Who?”
“Mr. April! Who else?”
Hanna snorted. “Right.”
“Totally. You should bring him to the Kahn party. I heard some cops came to the party last year. That’s how they never get busted.”
Hanna sat back. The Kahn party was a legendary Rosewood tradition. The Kahns lived on twenty-some acres of land, and the Kahn boys—Noel was the youngest—held a back-to-school party every year. The kids raided their parents’ extremely well-stocked liquor supply in the basement, and there was always a scandal. Last year, Noel shot his best friend James in the bare ass with his BB gun because James had tried to make out with Noel’s then-girlfriend, Alyssa Pennypacker. They were both so drunk they laughed the whole way to the ER and couldn’t remember how or why it happened. The year before that, a bunch of stoners smoked too much and tried to get Mr. Kahn’s Appaloosas to take hits from a bong.
“Nah.” Hanna bit into another tomato. “I think I’m going with Sean.”
Mona scrunched up her face. “Why waste a perfectly good party night on Sean? He took a virginity pledge! He probably won’t even go.”
“Just because you sign a virginity pledge doesn’t mean you stop partying, too.” Hanna took a big bite of her salad, crunching the dry, unappetizing vegetables in her mouth.
“Well, if you’re not gonna ask Mr. April to Noel’s, I will.” Mona stood up.
Hanna grabbed her arm. “No!”
“Why not? C’mon. It’d be fun.”
Hanna dug her fingernails into Mona’s arm. “I said no.”
Mona sat back down and stuck out her lip. “Why not?”
Hanna’s heart galloped. “All right. You can’t tell anyone, though.” She took a deep breath. “I met him at the police station, not the trail. I was called in for questioning for the Tiffany’s thing. But it’s not a big deal. I’m not busted.”
“Oh my God!” Mona yelled. Wilden looked up at them again.
“Shhh!” Hanna hissed.
“Are you all right? What happened? Tell me everything,” Mona whispered back.
“There isn’t much to tell.” Hanna threw her napkin over her plate. “They brought me to the station, my mom came with me, and we sat for a while. They let me off with a warning. Whatever. The whole thing took like twenty minutes.”
“Yikes.” Mona gave Hanna an indeterminate look; Hanna wondered for a second if it was a look of pity.
“It wasn’t, like, dramatic or anything,” Hanna said defensively, her throat dry. “Not much happened. Most of the cops were on the phone. I text-messaged the whole time.” She paused, considering whether she should tell Mona about that “not it” text message she’d received from A, whoever A was. But why waste her breath? It couldn’t have actually meant anything, right?
Mona took a sip of her Perrier. “I thought you’d never get caught.”
Hanna swallowed hard. “Yeah, well…”
“Did your mom totally kill you?”
Hanna looked away. On the drive home, her mom had asked Hanna if she’d meant to steal the bracelet and earrings. When Hanna said no, Ms. Marin answered, “Good. It’s settled then.” Then she flipped open her cell to make a call.
Hanna shrugged and stood up. “I just remembered—I gotta go walk Dot.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mona asked. “Your face looks kind of splotchy.”
“No biggie.” She smacked her lips glamorously at Mona and turned for the door.
Hanna sauntered coolly out of the restaurant, but once she got to the parking lot, she broke into a run. She climbed inside her Toyota Prius—a car her mom had bought for herself last year but had recently handed off to Hanna because she’d grown tired of it—and checked her face in the rearview mirror. There were hideous bright red patches on her cheeks and forehead.
After her transformation, Hanna had been neurotically careful about not only looking cool and perfect at all times, but being cool and perfect, too. Terrified that the tiniest mistake would send her spiraling back to dorkdom, she labored over every last detail, from little things like the perfect IM screen name and the right mix for her car’s built-in iPod, to bigger stuff like the right combo of people to invite over before someone’s party and choosing the perfect it boy to date—who, luckily, was the same boy she’d loved since seventh grade. Had getting caught for shoplifting just tarnished the perfect, controlled, über-cool Hanna everyone had come to know? She hadn’t been able to read that look on Mona’s face when she said “yikes.” Had the look meant, Yikes, but no big deal? Or, Yikes, what a loser?
She wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have told Mona at all. But then…someone else already knew. A.
Know what Sean’s going to say? Not it!
Hanna’s field of vision went blurry. She squeezed the steering wheel for a few seconds, then jammed the key into the ignition and rolled out of the country club parking lot to a gravelly, dead-end turn-off a few yards down the road. She could hear her heart pounding at her temples as she turned off the engine and took deep breaths. The wind smelled like hay and just-mown grass.
Hanna shut her eyes tight. When she opened them, she stared at the container of sweet potato fries. Don’t, she thought. A car swished by on the main road.
Hanna wiped her hands on her jeans. She snuck another peek at the container. The fries smelled delicious. Don’t, don’t, don’t.
She reached over for them and opened the lid. Their sweet, warm smell wafted into her face. Before she could stop herself, Hanna shoved handful after handful of fries into her mouth. The fries were still so hot that they burned her tongue, but she didn’t care. It was such a relief; this was the only thing that made her feel better. She didn’t stop until she’d eaten them all and even licked the sides of the container for the salt that had gathered at the bottom.