Killer

Page 32

“Does Kate have a date?” Mr. Marin asked.
Hanna shrugged. Earlier today, she’d told Mike to get out of his date with Kate by telling her he’d promised to go with the lax boys in their rented Hummer. If he’d said he was going with Hanna, Kate would have immediately told Daddy and ruined the whole thing.
Her father sighed and stood up. “Okay. You can go on your own.”
“Thank you.” Hanna breathed out.
He patted her back. “I just want Kate to feel welcome here. She’s having a really hard time at Rosewood Day. As I remember, you didn’t always have it easy there either.”
Hanna felt her cheeks redden. Back in fifth and sixth grade, when Hanna and her dad used to be close, she used to moan to him about school. I feel like a big nothing, she confessed. Her dad always assured her that things would turn around. Hanna never believed him, but he’d ended up being right. Becoming friends with Ali had changed everything for good.
Hanna glanced at her dad suspiciously. “Kate seems really happy at Rosewood Day. She’s best friends with Naomi and Riley.”
Mr. Marin stood up. “If you talked to her, you’d know the truth. What she wants most is to be friends with you, Hanna. But you seem to be making that as difficult as possible.”
Then he left the room, padding softly down the hall. Hanna remained on her bed, feeling both puzzled and annoyed. As if all Kate really wanted was to be friends! She’d obviously told Hanna’s dad that to get him even more on her side.
Hanna ground her fist into her mattress. It wasn’t like too many people had broken down her doors desperately wanting to be her BFF. In fact, only two people came to mind: Ali, who had chosen Hanna among many other eligible sixth-grade girls, and Mona, who had sat down next to Hanna at eighth-grade cheerleading tryouts, struck up a conversation, and then invited Hanna to a sleepover at her house. At the time, Hanna had thought both girls chose her for specific reasons—Mona because Hanna had been Ali’s friend and was therefore someone with a bit of status, and Ali because she saw a potential in Hanna that no one else had yet noticed. Now, Hanna knew different. From the very start, Mona had been probably plotting to bring Hanna down. Maybe Ali had had more sinister motives for choosing Hanna too—perhaps she saw how insecure Hanna was. Perhaps she realized how easily Hanna could be manipulated.
Deep down, a part of Hanna wanted to believe that what her dad said was true—that despite everything, Kate honestly wanted Hanna as a friend. But after all Hanna had suffered through, it was hard to trust that Kate’s aims could be pure.
As she strode out of her bedroom, she heard water running in the hall bathroom. Kate was loudly belting out a recent song from American Idol, using up all the hot water. Hanna paused by the door, feeling wholly unsettled. Then, as a truck rumbled past outside, she turned away and marched down the stairs.
The Radley Hotel was bustling with guests, photographers, and staff. Hanna and Mike pulled into the driveway, parked, and handed the car over to the valet. As she got out, Hanna took in the charming brick walkways, the ice-crusted lake in the back meadow, and the grand stone steps leading to the stately wooden door.
When she and Mike walked into the main ballroom, Hanna’s jaw dropped even farther. The party’s theme was Palace of Versailles, and the Radley lobby was draped with silk tapestries and filled with crystal chandeliers, gold-framed paintings, and ornate chaises. There was a huge fresco of some mythological scene on the far wall, and Hanna could see a Hall of Mirrors at the back, just like in the real Versailles outside Paris. To her right was a throne room, complete with a tall, royal chair with a burgundy velvet cushion. A bunch of guests were gathered near the bar and standing in clumps near the tables. A complete orchestra was set up at the back, and off to the left were the lobby desk, the elevators, and a discreet sign to the spa and the bathrooms.
“Wow.” Hanna sighed. This was her kind of hotel.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” Mike said, stifling a yawn.
Mike was dressed in a sleek black tux. He had his dark hair slicked off his face, showing off his prominent cheekbones. Whenever Hanna looked at him, her arms and legs felt noodly. Even more bizarrely, she kept getting vague twinges of sadness. It wasn’t the way a winner was supposed to feel.
A caterer in a white suit swept past. “I’m going to get a drink,” Hanna said airily, banishing the melancholy feelings from her head. She walked over to the bar and stood in line behind Mr. and Mrs. Kahn, who were whispering excitedly about which art on display they wanted to buy. Then a shock of blond hair across the room caught Hanna’s attention. It was Mrs. DiLaurentis, deep in conversation with a silver-haired man in a tuxedo. The man swept his arms around, pointing out the balcony, the fluted columns, the chandeliers, the hallway to the spa and the guest rooms. Mrs. DiLaurentis nodded and grinned, but her expression seemed pasted on. Hanna shuddered, uneasy to see Ali’s mom at a party. It was like seeing a ghost.
The bartender cleared his throat, and Hanna turned and ordered an extra-dirty Ketel One martini. As he mixed it up, she turned and stood on her tiptoes, searching for Mike. When she finally found him, he was in the corner near a gigantic abstract painting, next to Noel, Mason, and a few girls. Hanna narrowed her eyes at the pretty girl whispering in his ear. Kate.
Her stepsister was dressed in a floor-length navy gown and four-inch heels. Naomi and Riley flanked her on either side, both wearing ultrashort black dresses. Hanna grabbed her martini and shot across the room, the vodka sloshing over the lip of the glass. She reached Mike and tapped him hard on the shoulder.
“Hi,” Mike said, an I’m-not-doing-anything-wrong look on his face. Kate, Naomi, and Riley peered around him, snickering.
Hanna’s skin felt scorched. Grabbing Mike’s hand, Hanna faced the others. “Did you girls hear? Mike and I are going to prom together.”
Naomi and Riley looked confused. Kate’s smile dimmed. “Prom?”
“Uh-huh,” Hanna chirped, running her hands over her Time Capsule flag, which she’d tied to the gold chain of her Chanel purse.
Noel Kahn clapped Mike on the back. “Sweet.”
Mike shrugged, as if he’d known from the start that Hanna would ask him. “I need another Jäger shot,” he said, and he, Noel, and Mason ambled across the room to the bar, shoving one another every few steps.
The orchestra launched into a waltz, and a few of the dusty old partygoers who actually knew what that meant started to dance. Hanna locked her hands to her hips and shot Kate a smug smile. “So! Who’s the winner now?”
Kate lowered one shoulder. “God, Hanna.” She burst out laughing. “You seriously asked him to prom?”
Hanna rolled her eyes. “Poor baby. You’re not used to losing. But face it—you did.”
Kate shook her head vigorously. “You don’t understand. I never even liked him.”
Hanna let out a lip fart. “You liked him as much as I did.”
Kate lowered her chin. “Did I?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I wanted to see if you’d go after anyone if you thought I was going after him too. The joke’s on you, Hanna. We all knew about it.”
Naomi made a nickering noise. Riley puckered her lips, trying hard not to erupt into giggles. Hanna blinked hard, knocked off balance. Could Kate be serious? Was Hanna the brunt of this joke?
Kate’s face softened. “Oh, chill. Think of this as payback for the herpes thing, and now we’re even! Why don’t you party with us? There are some gorgeous guys from Brentmont Prep in the Mirror Room.”
She looped her arm through Hanna’s, but Hanna shook her away. How could Kate be so cavalier? How was this payback for the herpes thing? Hanna had had to tell everyone Kate had herpes. If she hadn’t, Kate would have told everyone Hanna’s binge-purge secret.
But suddenly, Hanna remembered how stunned Kate had seemed when Hanna broke the herpes news. She had looked at Hanna so helplessly, as though she’d been blindsided by the betrayal. Was it possible Kate never intended to tell Hanna’s secret that night? Could what her dad said—that Kate just wanted to be friends—be the truth?
But no. No.
Hanna faced Kate. “You wanted Mike, but I got him.”
It came out louder than she intended. A few people stopped and stared. A beefy-looking black man in a tux, presumably a bouncer, eyed Hanna warningly.
Kate lifted her hip. “Are you really going to be like this?”
Hanna shook her head. “I won!” she cried. “You lost!”
Kate looked over Hanna’s shoulder, her expression shifting. Hanna followed her gaze. Mike was holding two martinis outstretched—one for him, and a refill for her. His eyes looked extra-blue. By the way he was staring at Hanna, it seemed as if he understood perfectly what had just happened. Before Hanna could say a word, he gently set Hanna’s drink next to her half-finished one and turned around, saying nothing. His back was ramrod straight as he disappeared into the crowd.
“Mike!” Hanna called after him, gathering her skirt and starting to run. Mike thought Hanna was only pretending to like him…but maybe that wasn’t the truth at all. Mike was funny and genuine. Maybe he was even more perfect for her than any guy she’d ever dated. It explained why she felt butterflies in her stomach whenever he was around, why she smiled giddily when he sent her texts, and why her heart pounded when they almost kissed on his front porch. It explained why Hanna had been feeling morose tonight, too—she didn’t want this game with Mike to end.
She came to a stop at the other end of the ballroom, frantically searching around. Mike had disappeared.
26
SOMEONE HAS A SECRET
Emily stood on the big stone porch outside the Radley entrance, watching the limos and town cars roll into the circular drive. The air smelled like a jumble of expensive perfumes, and a photographer was flitting around the partygoers, snapping pictures. Every time a flashbulb went off, Emily thought of the creepy photos from A. Ali, Jenna, and Naomi, gathered in Ali’s backyard. Darren Wilden, emerging from confession. And then there was Jason DiLaurentis arguing with Jenna Cavanaugh in Jenna’s living room. What do you think he’s so angry about?
What did it mean? What was A trying to tell her?
She pulled her cell phone from her bag and checked the time once more. It was a quarter after eight, and Aria was supposed to meet her at the entrance fifteen minutes ago. About an hour after their uncomfortable phone conversation this morning, Aria called Emily back and asked if she wanted to go to the Radley party together. Emily figured it was Aria’s way of apologizing for yelling at her, and although she hadn’t really felt like going now that she and Isaac were through, she’d reluctantly agreed. They’d called Spencer and asked if she wanted to go too, but Spencer said she was spending the night in her sister’s barn doing homework.
More people streamed through the Radley’s doors, showing their invitations to a girl wearing a headset and holding a clipboard. Emily called Aria’s phone, but she didn’t pick up. She sighed. Maybe Aria had gone in without her.