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If Emily left, she’d never have to worry about getting arrested for Tabitha’s murder. She’d never have to worry about A coming after her, and she’d never be haunted by Ali’s ghost—or any other ghosts of Rosewood past again. Her family would probably celebrate her disappearance. It wouldn’t even register on Isaac’s radar. UNC would find a new swimmer.
She looked at Jordan’s huge, hopeful eyes, her parted lips, and the adorable dimple next to her eyebrow. She had found so much in one person, and letting her go seemed like a terrible mistake.
And could she really afford to make another one of those?
21
HANNA’S SLUMBER PARTY
“C’mon, people, two more reps!” the Jillian Michaels impersonator yelled as she stood in front of the small workout room, raising two pale-blue dumbbells over her head. “Do it even though it hurts! Feel the burn!”
Hanna’s arms felt like rubber, but she lifted the dumbbells as high as she could anyway, letting out a grunt. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she was making a constipated, old-woman grimace.
Then she dropped the weights to the floor and sighed. “Give yourself a round of applause!” the instructor whooped. A few people burst into tepid clapping.
Hanna collapsed onto her mat. It was Saturday afternoon, and she’d been in the gym for two hours now—before taking the 7-Day Shred class, she’d pounded on the treadmill for thirty minutes, then tried to lose herself for another twenty on the StairMaster. But none of it had helped her forget about Naomi, or A, or Naomi as A.
Everyone in the class headed for the door, and Hanna draped a towel over her shoulders and followed. But when she saw Naomi’s shining face in the window, she backtracked.
“Hey there, superstar!” Naomi said brightly, pushing into the room. She was dressed in gray terry-cloth shorts, a white tank top, and New Balance sneakers. “You vanished so early this morning! Have you been here this whole time? You should’ve told me you were coming to the gym—I would’ve joined you!”
“Uh, it was a last-minute thing,” Hanna said, avoiding Naomi’s gaze, which felt far too intrusive.
Naomi linked her arm through Hanna’s. “I was just talking to the Pilates instructor—she sounds really awesome. Maybe we could sign up for a joint session tomorrow?”
“Uh, sure.” Hanna fiddled with her towel, unnerved by how close Naomi was standing to her. A vision of Gayle’s dead body on the driveway flashed through her mind. Naomi did that.
Naomi placed her hands on her hips. “Are you pissed at me?”
“Of course not,” Hanna bleated, trying to sound innocent.
“Well, you’re acting weird,” Naomi said, hurt evident in her voice. “You’re treating me like I have barf in my hair.”
Hanna mustered a carefree shrug. “I’m just tired.” Then she gestured toward the fountain, mumbled how she was dying for a drink, and made a beeline for the faucet. She knows everything, a voice inside her head roared. Everything she told you was a lie. She’s not happy her cousin was in the crash—she’s furious, and she’s out for blood.
When she was finished drinking, Naomi was waiting. “Can we at least rehearse for the talent show this afternoon?”
Hanna felt trapped. Thankfully, at that very moment, her cell phone chimed. It was only an e-mail from Shopbop.com about summer must-haves, but Naomi didn’t know that. “Mike wants to meet me—he says it’s an emergency. Bummer.”
Naomi looked suspicious. “Do you still want to be my partner for the talent show?”
“Of course!” Hanna lied, afraid of what Naomi might do if she said no. She shot her an I’m-sorry-I’m-so-busy smile. “We’ll catch up soon, okay?” And then, ducking her head, she darted for the stairwell door and scrambled to the floor her room was on—she was desperate for a change of clothes. She feared Naomi would follow her, but she didn’t appear on the landing.
Hanna unlocked her door and rushed inside. Even though it had only been a few hours since she’d been there, the room didn’t seem like hers any longer. Naomi’s suitcase was in a completely different place now. Different clothes were on her bed, and the chair had been moved to the window. Hanna peeked around for Naomi’s laptop, but it was nowhere to be seen. She’d probably never leave it unattended again.
She collapsed onto her bed for a moment, all at once feeling as tired as she’d pretended to be at the gym. Her head sank into the cool, soft pillow. Her aching limbs relaxed into the cushy mattress. It felt so good to stretch out after so many hours of exercise. The white noise of the fan was lulling and soothing. I’ll just close my eyes for a minute, she thought to herself, her breathing slowing. And then, darkness surrounded her like a heavy blanket, cloaking everything.
When she opened her eyes again, she was sitting in an unfamiliar BMW. A pine tree air freshener spun from the rearview mirror. The radio was set to a hip-hop station.
She blinked and looked out the window. It was pouring outside. Tall buildings surrounded her, and a neon sign for South Street Steaks flashed in the distance.
The passenger door opened, and a figure flopped into the passenger seat. “You really don’t have to do this, Olivia,” a familiar voice slurred. “I’m totally fine to drive.”
Hanna blinked hard. It was Madison. Her blond hair was mussed, her face was flushed, and she was wearing the same striped T-shirt she’d worn that night at the bar. Hanna looked around again. This was that night at the bar. The air felt like summer. Madison’s breath smelled thickly of booze. Hanna had a salty margarita taste in her mouth.
