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Kate’s blue eyes were saucers. “Nice.”
Riley leafed through a few pages of the magazine and pointed at a flirty black cocktail dress. “Omigod, this would look so beautiful on you, Hanna.”
“Who makes that?” Hanna leaned forward curiously.
“And this would look awesome with your eyes, Kate.” Naomi pointed at a robin’s egg blue sheath by BCBG. “Prada makes these gorgeous satin shoes in the exact same color. Have you been to the Prada store yet? It’s just over there.” She pointed.
Kate shook her head. Naomi clapped her hand over her mouth, mock horrified.
Kate giggled and then glanced down at the magazine again. “I bet we’re supposed to bring dates to this benefit, right?” she said, touching the glossy pages. “I don’t even know any guys here.”
“You have nothing to worry about.” Naomi rolled her eyes. “Every guy in school has been talking about you.”
Riley flipped a page. “And Hanna, you already have a date.”
Hanna immediately tensed. Was that sarcasm she detected in Riley’s voice? And what was with that ugly smile on Naomi’s face? Suddenly, it hit her—they were going to make a snarky crack about Lucas. About his after-school-club obsession, maybe, or about the queer vest he had to wear when he bussed tables at Rive Gauche, or that he wasn’t a lacrosse player. There was even that ridiculous—and very untrue—rumor Ali had seeded years ago that Lucas was a hermaphrodite.
Hanna clenched her fists, waiting. She’d known this forgive-and-forget thing was too good to be true.
But Naomi simply gave Hanna a benign smile. Riley clucked her tongue. “Lucky bitch.”
A model-thin waitress laid down the leather booklet with the check at the corner of the table. Across the room, a young couple in their twenties was sitting under Hanna’s favorite old French poster, a green devil dancing with a bottle of absinthe. Hanna peeked at Naomi and Riley, the girls who had been her enemies for as long as she could remember. The things she and Mona used to tease them about suddenly didn’t seem so valid anymore. Riley’s love of leggings was actually pretty fashion-forward—she’d started wearing them before Rachel Zoe picked them out for Lindsay Lohan. And Naomi’s new haircut did make her look chic, and she definitely got credit for trying something so daring.
She stared down at the magazine, suddenly feeling magnanimous. “Riley, you’d look stunning in this Foley and Corrina,” she said, pointing to an emerald green gown.
“I was thinking the same thing!” Riley agreed, giving Hanna a high five. Then she got a cunning look on her face. “You know, the mall’s still open for another hour. Wanna hit Saks?”
Naomi’s eyes lit up. She gazed at Hanna and Kate. “What do you say, girls?”
Hanna suddenly felt like someone had wrapped her in a big, cozy cashmere scarf. Here she was at Rive Gauche with a group of girls, getting ready to hit all her favorite stores. It made everything she’d been worried about just minutes ago ooze away. Who had time to be bitter or afraid when there was shopping to be done with her new BFFs? Hanna thought of the dream she’d had when she was in the hospital after her accident, where Ali leaned over Hanna’s hospital bed and told her everything was going to be okay. Maybe Dream Ali had been referring to this moment.
As she reached down to grab her bag to follow the others out, she noticed her BlackBerry was flashing with a new text. Hanna glanced up. Kate was busy shrugging into her princess-seamed coat, Naomi was signing the bill, and Riley was reapplying her lip gloss. The waiters swirled around Rive Gauche, taking orders and clearing plates. She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and opened the text.
Dear Little Piggy,
Those who don’t remember the past are doomed to repeat it. Remember your unfortunate “accident”? Tell anyone about little ol’ moi, and this time I’ll make sure you don’t wake up. But just to show that I’m willing to play nice, here’s a helpful hint: Someone in your life isn’t what they seem.
Love ya!—A
“Hanna?”
Hanna covered the BlackBerry’s screen fast. Kate was a few paces away, waiting by the marble-topped bar. “Everything okay?”
Hanna took a deep breath, and slowly, the spots in front of her eyes receded. She let her cell phone slip back into her bag. Whatever. Screw knockoff A—anyone could have heard about that Little Piggy stuff and her accident. She was back on top where she belonged, and she wasn’t about to let some stupid kid mess with her.
“Everything’s perfect,” Hanna chirped, zipping up her bag. Then she strode across the restaurant and joined the others.
15
EVEN LIBRARIES AREN’T SAFE
Spencer watched blankly as steam from her stainless-steel coffee carafe evaporated into the air. Andrew Campbell sat across from her, flipping a page of their massive AP econ textbook. He tapped a highlighted chart.
“Okay, this is talking about how the Federal Reserve controls the money supply,” Andrew explained. “Like, if the Fed worries that the economy is going into a recession, it lowers its reserve requirements and interest rates for borrowing money. Remember when we talked about this in class?”
“Uh-huh,” Spencer mumbled vaguely. The only thing she knew about the Federal Reserve was that when it lowered interest rates, her parents got all excited because that meant their stocks would go up and her mother could redecorate the living room—again. But Spencer didn’t recall talking about this in class at all. She felt the same frustrated, helpless feeling about AP econ as she did about her recurring dream of being trapped in an underground room that was slowly filling with water. Every time she tried to dial 911, the numbers on the phone kept moving around on her. And then the buttons turned to gummy bears and the water rose over her mouth and nose.
