places. It seemed desperate to sit at a café table alone, and Hanna’s makeup didn’t really need fixing.
She sighed, gazing jealously at a group of happy girls on their way to the cafeteria, wishing she could hang out with them for at least a few minutes. But that had always been the problem with her friendship with Mona—there had never been room for anyone else. And now Hanna couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the whole school thought of her as That Girl Whose Best Friend Tried to Kill Her.
“Hanna!” a voice called. “Hey!”
Hanna paused and squinted down the hall at the tall, thin figure waving at her. A sour taste filled her mouth. Kate.
It was beyond nauseating to see Kate in a Rosewood Day–issue navy blue blazer and plaid skirt. Hanna wanted to run in the other direction, but Kate approached at breakneck speed, navigating deftly in her three-inch-heeled boots. Kate’s face was as earnest and cheerful as a Disney cartoon character’s, and her breath smelled like she’d eaten about eight Listerine breath strips. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”
“Huh,” Hanna grunted, searching around for someone to interrupt them. She’d have settled for that smart-ass Mike Montgomery, or even her prudish, virginity-pledging ex, Sean Ackard. But the only people in the hall were the members of the Rosewood Day madrigal choir, and they’d just broken into an impromptu Gregorian chant. Freaks. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, beautiful raven-haired girl in enormous Gucci sunglasses sweep around the corner, a golden retriever guide dog at her side.
Jenna Cavanaugh.
A shiver went through Hanna. There was so much about Jenna she’d never known. Jenna and Mona had been friends, and Mona had been walking over to the Cavanaughs’ house to visit Jenna the night she was blinded by the firework. That meant Mona had known about the horrible thing they’d accidentally done to Jenna the entire time she and Hanna were best friends. It was almost inconceivable to imagine. All those hours Mona had spent at Hanna’s house, all those spring break trips to the Caribbean, all those bonding shopping and spa sessions…and never once had Hanna suspected that the firework that had blinded Jenna had burned Mona too.
“What are you doing for lunch?” Kate chirped, making Hanna jump. “Is this a good time for a tour?”
Hanna started walking again. “I’m busy,” she said haughtily. Screw her father and his “treat Kate like family” lecture. “Go to the office and tell them you’re lost. I’m sure they could draw you a map.”
With that, she tried to steer around Kate, but Kate stayed right with her. Hanna got a noseful of Kate’s peach-scented shower gel. Fake peach, Hanna decided, was her least favorite scent in the whole world.
“How about coffee?” Kate said firmly. “I’ll buy.”
Hanna narrowed her eyes. Kate had to be an idiot if she thought Hanna would so easily be swayed by ass-kissing. When she and Mona had become friends at the beginning of eighth grade, Mona had won Hanna over by kissing her ass—and look what happened there. But even though Kate’s expression was irritatingly friendly, it was obvious she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Something occurred to Hanna: If she was enough of a bitch, Kate might tattle on her again, Le Bec-Fin style.
Hanna let out a blustering sigh and threw her hair over her shoulder. “Fine.”
They backtracked to Steam, which was only a few doors away. Panic at the Disco was on the stereo, both espresso machines were running, and the tables bustled with students. The drama club was meeting in the corner, talking about holding auditions for Hamlet . Now that Spencer Hastings had been barred from the play, Hanna had heard that a talented sophomore named Nora had a good shot at Ophelia. There were a few younger girls gaping at an old flyer for the Rosewood Stalker, who hadn’t resurfaced since the whole A thing ended—the