Pretty Little Secrets
Page 12

A shiver snaked up Hanna’s spine. Who could have done that? Immediately, A came to mind . . . but A was gone.
“Don’t be ashamed of going to fat camp!” Kate went on. “At least you’re making a positive change, you know?” She typed something into her phone. “I think this would make a lovely post on your Facebook wall. And maybe people would sympathize with you for losing the guy to that other girl!”
Hanna’s heart pounded hard. “I’m not interested in Vince!”
Kate gave her a knowing look. “You keep telling yourself that, Hanna. But the photos don’t lie. Now, what would be a good caption for Facebook? Boot camp is so amazing, and look at my awesome new friends? Or how about something simple, like Getting my huge ass in gear?”
Hanna let out a whimper. She was “friends” with all kinds of people on Facebook. Naomi Zeigler and Riley Wolfe, two popular bitches who’d love nothing more than to hear about this. Senior girls who invited her to amazing parties. Mason Byers, James Freed, Noel Kahn, and her ex, Sean Ackard. That Mona had wanted to kill Hanna was bad enough—a post about boot camp would cement her status as a loser for good. She already saw herself sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch. Spending every Saturday night in her room. Never being invited to a party again.
“Please don’t post about this,” Hanna cried. “I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”
One of Kate’s eyebrows rose. “What’s in it for me?”
A stiff wind blew up, numbing Hanna’s ears and the tip of her nose. She stared out at the empty road in front of Body Tonic and racked her brain. What did she have that Kate wanted? Hadn’t she given up enough? Ever since Kate had set foot in Hanna’s house, Hanna’s life had gone from bad to worse. Kate had already usurped all of Hanna’s father’s attention. As soon as she started at Rosewood Day, she’d probably become the most popular girl in their grade, taking Hanna’s place. How much more torture could she take?
What she wouldn’t give for Mona right now—the Mona she knew before all the A stuff began. The two of them could laugh in Kate’s face, tell her she wouldn’t dare cross them, and then spin around and drive away in a cloud of exhaust. Having Ali here would be even better: She’d loop her elbow around Hanna’s, lean in close, and whisper, “You’ve got something on her too, Han. That’s what’s so great about secrets—you can use them as currency.”
Suddenly, Hanna’s head shot up. It was as though Ali had spoken to her from beyond the grave. She did have something on Kate, something she’d almost forgotten.
She started to laugh.
“What?” Kate’s eyebrows knitted together.
The giggles kept coming. Hanna rummaged around in her bag for her cell phone. “You’re not posting anything on Facebook. Because if you do, I’m telling everyone about Santa.”
Kate frowned. For a split second, a look of sheer terror crossed her face. “Huh?”
“You know,” Hanna said mockingly, pulling up the photo she was looking for on her phone and thrusting it toward Kate. Santa caressing Kate’s neck. Kate burying her hands in Santa’s cottony beard. “A fitting caption would be Someone’s been naughty this year. And haven’t you heard that guy’s a major pervert?” Hanna scolded. “He hits on twelve-year-old girls!”
Kate backed away from Hanna, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Please don’t,” was all she whispered.
“I think we have an agreement, then.” Hanna pressed the UNLOCK button on her key chain. “If you post the boot camp pictures online, I’ll post this. ’Kay?”
Kate didn’t answer, but Hanna knew she’d gotten her. Head held high, she swung into the driver’s seat, turned the ignition, and pulled swiftly and expertly out of her spot. “Bye-bye!” she trilled, waggling her fingers at her stepsister. Kate remained where she was, the red T-shirt limp at her side.
Hanna drove away without giving her stepsister a second glance. As she turned out of the parking lot, a phrase Ali often said and Hanna had adopted came to mind: I’m Ali, and I’m fabulous. Hanna felt pretty frickin’ fabulous right now, too.
Chapter 15
Operators Are Standing By!
Back at home, the kitchen was silent and unoccupied. Water in the shower ran upstairs, and Hanna could hear the muted sounds of the morning news from her father’s room. Out the window, the six-year-old twins who lived next door whirled out into their driveway like dervishes, wearing matching Santa’s elves hats.
Hanna downed a couple Advils and started to make coffee. For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was the water dripping into the carafe. She stared blankly at the front page of the Philadelphia Sentinel, willing her headache to go away. Ian Thomas Maintains Innocence, said a headline. She turned the paper over fast. It was the last thing she wanted to think about right now. Ian had to be guilty. Who else had a motive to kill Ali?
Hanna looked down at the paper again and flinched. In the lower left-hand corner was a giant ad for Body Tonic Gym and Spa. There, in black and white, was Vince’s grinning face, telling potential exercisers that from now until New Year’s, initiation fees would only be $50.
She couldn’t believe Dinah—and she couldn’t believe Vince had chosen a freak like her over Hanna. If she’d shown up caroling instead of Dinah, would Vince have gone for her instead? Why had he acted so into Hanna in the first place? Was something of what Dinah said true—was he just trying to get the two of them to compete for him?
After everything she’d been through with A, she should have known Dinah was going to stab her in the back. An image flashed into her mind. She saw Mona’s car barreling toward her again. She felt the impact, her body flying into the air, the scream lodging in her throat. One person after another kept betraying her.
Hanna rubbed her temples and tried to take slow, even breaths. Was there anyone she could trust anymore? She glanced at her phone on the table, then scrolled through her contacts list, wondering if she should call Spencer. Or maybe Emily. Or Aria. She remembered a gift exchange they’d had in seventh grade, right before the holiday break. Aria had knitted all of them mohair bras, and they’d all tried them on over their clothes and danced around Ali’s living room. Even Ali had been in a good mood that day, not making fun of how Hanna’s bra stretched unflatteringly across her chest. Ali’s brother, Jason, had walked into the room halfway through their dance party. He’d stared at them in their bizarre outfits, and they’d all collapsed into giggles.
There was a cough in the hall, and Hanna looked up just as her father strolled into the room in his bathrobe and slippers. “Hey,” he said in a weary voice, ruffling her hair. “Mind if I have some of that coffee?”
“Be my guest,” Hanna said.
Mr. Marin poured part of the carafe into the Doberman mug he’d used since Hanna was a kid. He sat down next to her, let out a long, tired sigh, and rubbed his eyes.
“Is everything okay?” Hanna asked.
His head bobbed up and down. “I’m just tired. These Twelve Days of Christmas activities are a little crazy this year. Isabel has me running all over the place.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t participated in all of them,” Hanna said, feeling a little guilty.
Mr. Marin waved his hand. “Maybe you were smart to miss them.” He gave her a covert glance. “Between you and me? I think I liked it better when we celebrated Hanukkah. At least that only went on for eight days. And it was much more low-key.”
Hanna bit her bottom lip. “I liked it better when we celebrated it, too.”
Mr. Marin opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but then seemed to change his mind and just took another long swig of his coffee. A silence fell between them. The candy cane–shaped clock Isabel had hung up in the corner ticked loudly. A motor gunned outside.
Then, Mr. Marin patted Hanna’s thigh. “Actually, that reminds me. I have something for you.” He rose, shuffled over to his briefcase by the door, and pulled out a small velvet box.
Hanna stared at it, recognizing it immediately. She lifted the lid and found the very same Cartier locket she’d discovered the day her father, Isabel, and Kate had moved in. She never thought she’d hold it again. “Is this . . . for me?”
“Of course it’s for you. It was your grandmother’s.”
“I know,” Hanna murmured, lifting the necklace out of the box. It glittered in the overhead light. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I’ve always wanted this.”
“I know,” Mr. Marin said, hiding a smile. “Your grandma would’ve wanted you to have it. I want you to have it, too.”
Hanna stood and gave her father a huge hug. “Thank you.” She wanted to add, for not giving it to Kate or Isabel, but she was afraid it might ruin the moment. All of a sudden, everything felt a little bit better again. Maybe her dad hadn’t forgotten her, after all. Maybe he still remembered, in some small way, that she was here, that she still mattered.
She turned around so that her father could clip it around her neck. The locket hung perfectly at her throat, and Hanna couldn’t resist running her finger over its smooth oval shape. Mr. Marin finished his coffee, then pulled a bottle of water from his briefcase and took a long swig. “Well, I suppose I should get moving.”
“Wait a sec.” Hanna stared at the bottle in his hand. The label said AMINOSPA. “Where did you get that?”
Mr. Marin screwed the cap back on the bottle. “Some guy was selling it at the office. He said these drinks have a ton of vitamins in them and that I’d feel better once I start drinking a couple bottles a day. But I don’t feel any different, to be honest with you. And it kind of tastes like rotten lime juice.”
Hanna smiled sadly. “I think that stuff is a scam.”
“Probably.” Mr. Marin shrugged. “I think the whole point of selling this stuff is to recruit other people to sell it, too. The guy gave me this really long pitch about how I could be a part-time AminoSpa associate—I’d make tons of money and never have to change out of my pajamas.” He chuckled good-naturedly. “The people who get recruited to sell this stuff are like cult members—they’re totally brainwashed. And once they suck you in, there’s no way to get out.”
He placed the AminoSpa bottle on the counter and gave Hanna a kiss on top of her head. His slippers made soft slaps on the floor as he padded out of the room. Hanna sat motionless for a few moments, staring at the AminoSpa bottle on the counter. It was crazy to think she’d fallen for a guy who’d gotten caught up in a pyramid scheme. Dinah could totally have him.
Suddenly, an idea came to her. She stood, raced over to the bottle, and looked at the company information on the back. To join our team, call now! it said beneath a 1-800 number and a website.
Heart thumping, Hanna lifted her home phone off the receiver and dialed the number. “AminoSpa Industries!” a chipper voice answered almost immediately. “Are you interested in joining our team?”