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Hanna carried the box of Ritz Bits upstairs with her. There was indeed a large box propped up against her bureau, right next to her miniature pinscher Dot’s Gucci dog bed. Dot stretched off the bed, his tiny nubby tail wagging. Hanna’s fingers trembled as she used her nail scissors to slice open the packing tape. As she ripped open the box, a few sheets of tissue paper cascaded through the room. And then…a champagne-colored Zac Posen slip dress sat at the bottom.
Hanna gasped. Mona’s court dress. All tailored and pressed and ready to wear. She rooted around the bottom of the box for a note of explanation but couldn’t find one. Whatever. This could only mean one thing—she was forgiven.
The corners of Hanna’s lips slowly spread into a grin. She leapt onto her bed and started jumping, making her bedsprings squeak. Dot circled around her, yapping crazily. “Yessss,” Hanna cried, relieved. She’d known Mona would come to her senses. She would be crazy to stay mad at Hanna for long.
She sat back down on the bed and picked up her new BlackBerry. This was short notice—she probably wouldn’t be able to rebook the hair and makeup appointments she’d cancelled when she thought she wasn’t going to the party. Then she remembered something else: Lucas. I’m not invited to Mona’s party, either, he’d said.
Hanna paused, drumming her hands on the BlackBerry’s screen. She obviously couldn’t bring him to Mona’s party. Not as her date. Not as anything. Lucas was cute, sure, but he was definitely not party-worthy.
She sat up straighter and flipped through her red leather Coach organizer for Lucas’s e-mail address. She would write him a short, snippy e-mail so he’d know exactly where he stood with her: nowhere. He’d be crushed, but really, Hanna couldn’t please everyone now, could she?
26
SPENCER GETS IN HOT WATER…LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY
Friday evening, Spencer was soaking in the family hot tub. It was one of her favorite things to do, especially at night, when all of the stars glittered in the dark sky. Tonight the only sounds around her were the burbling of the hot tub’s jets and the slobbery crunching sounds of Beatrice, one of the family’s labradoodles, chewing on a rawhide bone.
Then suddenly, she heard a twig snap. Then another. Then…someone breathing. Spencer turned as her sister, clad in a Nova-check plaid Burberry bikini, climbed down the stairs and settled into the tub, too.
For a while, neither of them said anything. Spencer hid under a beard of bubbles, and Melissa was looking at the umbrella table next to the pool. Suddenly, Melissa inspected her sister. “So I’m a little annoyed at Dr. Evans.”
“Why?”
Melissa swished her hands around in the water. “Sometimes she says all this stuff about me like she’s known me for years. Does she do that to you?”
Spencer shrugged. Hadn’t Melissa warned her Dr. Evans would do that?
Melissa pressed the flat of her hand against her forehead. “She told me that I choose untrustworthy men to date. That I actually go after guys I know will never commit or turn into anything long-term because I’m afraid of getting close to anyone.”
Melissa reached over and drank from her big bottle of Evian, which was sitting next to the tub. Above her head, Spencer saw the silhouette of a large bird—or perhaps a bat—flap past the moon. “I was angry about it at first, but now…I don’t know.” Melissa sighed. “Maybe she’s right. I’ve started to think about all my relationships. Some of the guys I’ve gone out with have seemed really untrustworthy, right from the start.”
Her eyes needled into Spencer, and Spencer blushed.
“Wren’s an obvious one,” Melissa went on, as if reading Spencer’s thoughts. Spencer looked away, staring at the waterfall installation that was on the other side of the pool. “She’s got me wondering about Ian, too. I think he was cheating on me when we were in high school.”
Spencer tensed. “Really?”
“Uh-huh.” Melissa inspected her perfectly manicured pale peach nails. Her eyes were dark. “I’m almost certain. And I think I know who it was.”
Spencer bit a hangnail on her thumb. What if Melissa had overheard Spencer and Ian in the yard earlier? Ian had alluded to their kiss. Or, worse: what if Ali had told Melissa what Spencer had done, years ago?
Not long before Ali vanished, Spencer’s dad had taken the five of them to play paintball. Melissa had come along, too. “I’m going to tell Melissa what you did,” Ali singsonged to Spencer as they put on their jumpsuits in the changing room.
“You wouldn’t,” Spencer hissed back.
“Oh no?” Ali teased. “Watch me.”
Spencer had followed Ali and the others to the field. They all crouched behind a large bale of hay, waiting for the game to start. Then Ali leaned over and tapped Melissa on the shoulder. “Hey, Melissa. I have something to tell you.”
Spencer nudged her. “Stop it.”
The whistle blew. Everyone shot forward and started pelting the other team. Everyone, that was, except for Ali and Spencer. Spencer took Ali’s arm and dragged her behind a nearby hay bale. She was so angry her muscles were quivering.
“Why are you doing this?” Spencer demanded.
Ali snickered, leaning against the hay. “Why are you doing this?” she imitated in a high falsetto. “Because it’s wrong. Melissa deserves to know.”
Anger gathered in Spencer’s body like clouds before a huge thunderstorm. Didn’t friends keep each other’s secrets? They’d kept the Jenna secret for Ali, after all—Ali was the one who’d lit that firework, Ali was the one who had blinded Jenna—and they’d all vowed not to tell. Didn’t Ali remember that?
