There was a chime, and Hanna’s iPhone lit up inside her bag. She pulled it out. One new e-mail, said the screen. The note was from her mom. Hanna rarely heard from her—Ms. Marin ran the Singapore division of McManus & Tate, an ad agency, and she was more in love with her career than her only daughter. Hey, Han, it began. I’ve been offered six tickets to the Diane von Furstenberg fashion show in NYC Thursday, but I obviously can’t use them. Would you like to go instead? I’ve attached them via PDF.
Hanna read the message a few times over, her fingers twitching. Six tickets!
She stood up, checked her reflection in the mirror, and whipped out into the hall. When Hanna pounded on Kate’s door, the giggles instantly ceased. After some heated whispers, Kate flung open the door. Naomi, Riley, and Courtney were sitting on the floor by Kate’s bed, dressed in jeans and oversize cashmere sweaters. Bottles of foundation and trays of eye shadow were strewn across the carpet, and there was the usual array of Vogues, old Rosewood Day yearbooks, and smartphones jumbled at their feet. Four small tumblers and a bottle of Gosling’s rum sat between them. Mr. Marin had brought the rum back from a recent business trip to Bermuda. Even if Hanna ratted Kate out for swiping it, her dad would probably somehow figure out a way to blame Hanna instead.
Riley’s forehead wrinkled. “What do you want, Psycho?”
“Would you mind keeping it down?” Hanna cooed sweetly. “I need to make a phone call about some fashion week tickets I got from my mom, and I can hear your voices all the way down the hall.”
It took a few seconds for the news to sink in. “What?” Kate squeaked, curling her lip.
Naomi tossed her head. “Fashion week? Right.”
“Just turn the music down for a few,” Hanna said. “I don’t want Diane von Furstenberg’s people to think I’m a silly high school girl.” She waggled her fingers and ducked out the door. “Thanks much!”
“Wait.” Kate grabbed Hanna’s arm. “The Diane von Furstenberg?”
“You have to be someone to have tickets to that,” Riley snapped, her nostrils flaring. She had the tiniest beginning of a booger up her nose. “They don’t let psychos in.”
“My mom got six tickets,” Hanna said nonchalantly, swiveling on her heel. “She gets stuff like that through her job all the time. But since she’s in Singapore, she gave them to me.”
She whipped out her iPhone, opened the PDF, and shoved it in Kate’s face. Everyone else sprang up and squinted at the screen. Naomi licked her lips hungrily. Riley shot Hanna her version of a genuine smile, which looked more like a grimace. Courtney lingered in the background, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The other girls turned to her in deference, as if she were Anna Wintour and they were Assistants One through Three.
“Sweet,” Courtney declared in a voice identical to Ali’s.
Naomi clapped her palms together. “You’re obviously bringing your besties, right?”
“Of course she’s taking us,” Riley said, linking her arm with Hanna’s.
“Yeah, Hanna, you know that Psycho stuff was a joke, right?” Kate simpered. “And you should totally hang out with us tonight. We were going to ask you, but we didn’t know where you were.”
Hanna unwound her arm from Riley’s. She had to play this very, very carefully. If she gave them what they wanted too quickly, she’d look like a pushover. “I’ll have to think it over,” she said apathetically.
Naomi let out a whine. “Come on, Hanna. You have to take us. We’ll do anything.”
“We’ll take down that Facebook page,” Riley blurted.
“We’ll clean Psycho off your locker,” Naomi said at the exact same time.
Kate nudged both of them, obviously not wanting them to admit they’d been behind those things. “Fine,” she grumbled. “From now on, you’re no longer Psycho.”
“Oh, okay. Whatever,” Hanna said lightly. She started to head for the door.
“Wait!” Naomi screeched, pulling Hanna back down by the sleeve of her blazer. “Are you taking us or not?”
“Mmmm…” Hanna pretended to think. “Okay. I guess.”
“Yes.” Naomi and Riley high-fived. Kate looked appeased. Courtney gazed at them as if she thought this was all very petty. They made arrangements to meet Thursday after school at Hanna’s car, when they’d drive to the Amtrak station. And where would they get dinner after the show? The Waverly Inn? Soho House?
Hanna left them to their planning and ducked into the hall bathroom, closing the door tight. She leaned over the sink, nearly knocking over Kate’s myriad bottles of cleansers, toners, and mud masks, and smiled at her reflection. She’d done it. For the first time in weeks, she felt like herself again.
When she opened the bathroom door a few minutes later, a figure jerked out of sight. Hanna halted, her heart jumping to her throat. “Hello?” she whispered weakly.
There was a rustling sound. Then Courtney stepped into the light. Her eyes were round, and there was a ghostly smile on her lips.
“Uh, hi?” The hairs on Hanna’s arms stood on end.
“Hey,” Courtney said. She walked up to Hanna, stopping inches from her face. The hallway seemed even darker than it had moments before. Courtney was so close that Hanna could smell her rum-scented breath.
“Um, I heard you knew Iris.” Courtney tucked a strand of pale blond hair behind her ear.
Hanna’s stomach did a flip. “Uh, yeah.”