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But the damage was already done. “Ugh,” someone whispered behind them.
“Valtrex,” James Freed coughed into his hand. Kate stood up. Everyone took another big step away from her, as if the herpes virus could jump off her body and onto theirs.
Kate shot Hanna a horrified look. “Why did you just do that?”
“‘It’s almost time,’” Hanna recited in a monotone voice. “‘I can’t wait.’”
Kate gawked at her, confused. Then she took a few steps back, fumbling for the library door. When she slammed it shut, the crystals on the chandelier tinkled together melodically.
Someone gradually turned the music back up. “Wow,” Naomi murmured, sidling up to Hanna. “No wonder you haven’t wanted to spend time with her the past couple days.”
“So who’s the guy who gave it to her?” Riley whispered, instantly at Naomi’s side.
“I knew there was something skanky about her,” Naomi sneered.
Hanna brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. She’d expected to feel amazing and powerful, but instead she felt kind of shitty. Something about what had just happened seemed a little…off. She set Kate’s wineglass down on the floor and started for the door, just wanting to get out of there. Only, someone was blocking her way.
Lucas glowered at her, his lips small and pursed. It was obvious he’d seen everything. “Oh,” Hanna said in a meek voice. “Hi.”
Lucas crossed his arms over his chest. There was a sour look on his face. “Bravo, Hanna. I guess you got her before she got you, huh?”
“You don’t understand,” Hanna protested. She took a step toward him to put her arm around his shoulders, but Lucas held up his hand to stop her.
“I understand completely,” he said icily. “And I think I liked you better when you weren’t popular. When you were just…normal.” He slung his camera back around his neck and walked toward the door.
“Lucas, wait!” Hanna cried, stunned.
Lucas stopped in the middle of the enormous Oriental rug. There were a few strands of dog hair on his dark suit jacket—he’d probably snuggled with his Saint Bernard, Clarissa, after he got dressed. All of a sudden, Hanna loved him for not caring about looking perfect. She loved him for not caring about popularity. She loved him for every dorky thing he did.
“I’m sorry.” Hanna’s eyes filled with tears, not caring that everyone was watching.
Lucas’s face was stony and impassive. “We’re done, Hanna.” He turned the doorknob that led to the foyer.
“Lucas!” Hanna beseeched, her heart lurching. But he was gone.
28
SOCIALLY AWKWARD ARTIST NO MORE
Aria stood in front of an enormous oil portrait of Spencer’s great-great-great-grandfather Duncan Hastings, a debonair man awkwardly clutching a floppy-eared, sad-eyed beagle in his lap. Duncan had the same exact ski-slope nose Spencer did, and it looked like he was wearing women’s rings on his fingers. Rich people were so weird.
Aria supposed she should be in the library with the rest of her peers—Mrs. Hastings had all but shoved her in there when she’d arrived. But what did she really have to say to a bunch of prissy Typical Rosewood Girls in designer gowns and Cartier jewels they’d stolen out of their mothers’ trousseaus? Did she really want them judging the long, black, backless silk dress she was wearing? And did she really want to put up with drunken Noel and all his touchy-feely cronies? She’d rather hang out here with good old grumpy Duncan, getting drunk on top-shelf gin.
Aria wasn’t quite sure why she’d come to the benefit at all. Spencer had urged them all to be here for moral support now that Ian was on the loose, but Aria hadn’t seen Spencer or any of her other old friends since she’d arrived twenty minutes ago. And it wasn’t like she wanted to discuss Ian’s scary and mysterious disappearance with anyone else, as the rest of the guests were doing. She would rather crawl into her walk-in closet, curl up into a ball with Pigtunia, her stuffed pig puppet, and wait for all this to blow over, like she did when there were thunderstorms.
The library door opened and a familiar figure strode out. Mike was dressed in a dark gray suit, an untucked purple-and-black striped button-down, and shiny, square-toed shoes. A small, pale girl followed behind him. They walked right up to Aria and stopped. “There you are,” Mike said. “I wanted to introduce you to Savannah.”
“Uh, hi.” Aria offered Savannah her hand, shocked Mike was actually letting her meet his girlfriend. “I’m Aria. Mike’s sister.”
“Nice to meet you.” Savannah’s smile was wide and sweet. Her long, curly, dark chocolate-colored hair rippled down her back, and she had pinchable pink cheeks. A pretty black silk dress hugged her curves but didn’t cut off her circulation, and the small red clutch she was carrying didn’t have a logo plastered all over it.
She seemed…normal. Aria couldn’t have been more astounded if Mike had shown up with a seal from the Philadelphia Zoo as his date. Or, for that matter, an Icelandic horse.
Savannah touched Mike’s shoulder. “I’m going to grab us some apps, okay? The shrimp looks amazing.”
“Sure,” Mike said, smiling at her like an actual human. As Savannah skipped away, Aria let out a low whistle, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Look at you, Mikey!” she crowed. “She seems really nice!”
Mike shrugged. “I just have her around until my stripper honey from Turbulence gets back into town.” He chuckled lewdly, but Aria could tell his heart wasn’t in it. His eyes were still on Savannah as she plucked a few bruschetta squares off a passing tray.
