“Just grab a present and get wrapping,” Bette said. Then she waddled back in the direction of the front desk.

Hanna gazed around at the mob of people. Most of them looked like Hollis students, wearing ripped jeans, Uggs, and Patagonia fleeces. She didn’t see Vince anywhere. This was the place where he was volunteering, wasn’t it? But then, a door off to the left opened, and she spotted his dark hair, broad shoulders, and bright smile. Yes.

Hanna raised her hand to wave, but Vince seemed distracted, smiling at something across the room. A girl sat on top of one of the tables, placing a shiny bow on a wrapped gift. Vince walked up to her, said a few words, and they both started to giggle. Then he walked away again, disappearing into one of the back rooms. Hanna’s gaze remained on the girl. When she recognized the girl’s beehive of black hair, she exhaled sharply.

It was Dinah.

Hanna stalked over and tapped her on the shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Dinah swiveled around, her smile wavering. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Vince mentioned wrapping presents for the homeless shelter a few days ago. I thought it was a really cute idea, so I signed up, too.”

Hanna narrowed her eyes. “Do you actually think he’d go for you?”

“I know he will.” Dinah sniffed. Then she looked Hanna up and down in such a way that made Hanna feel self-conscious. She’d changed from her Rosewood Day uniform into a pair of skinny jeans from Madewell—a size four, thank you very much—and paired it with a loose-fitting silk top that tied at the neck and a pair of soft suede booties. Dinah, on the other hand, was wearing a checkered housedress that flared at the waist and showed off quite a bit of boob, and a pair of black Mary Janes. The only redeeming accessory was her small Chanel quilted bag, which sat next to her on the table. It looked exactly like the one all the starlets carried in Us Weekly and InStyle. Surely Dinah’s was a fake, right?

Vince returned with a bunch of unwrapped presents in his hands. When he saw Hanna, his jaw dropped. “Hey!” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “It’s so nice to see you here!”

Ha, Hanna thought. He probably hadn’t said that to Dinah. “Just wanted to help out,” she said, trying to sound humble.

“You girls are awesome.” Vince passed Hanna a tube of wrapping paper and a pair of scissors. “I’m so glad you both decided to come. Doing this kind of thing is really good for the soul, you know?”

“Absolutely,” Dinah trilled, lowering her long lashes. “I’m all for volunteering. My school encourages it.”

“Volunteering is mandatory at my school,” Hanna said. “What school do you go to, Dinah?” She fully expected Dinah to say Rosewood Public, or maybe one of the alternative Quaker schools where everyone was forced to work on the campus farm.

“Larchmont Academy,” Dinah answered primly. “It’s in Haverford.”

“I know where it is,” Hanna spat, trying to hide her shock. Before she’d become friends with Ali in sixth grade, she’d begged her mom to switch her to Larchmont Academy. Not only had every famous person who’d grown up on the Main Line graduated from there, but the school offered classes like the History of Couture and let kids take internships as far away as New York or Washington, D.C., during their senior year.

If Dinah were anyone else, Hanna would have loved to pick her brain about Larchmont. There was always the option of going there for senior year if attending the same school as Kate was just too much. But she didn’t want to give Dinah the satisfaction.

“Larchmont Academy sponsors us to volunteer in the most amazing locations,” Dinah said to Vince, slicing a long sheet of wrapping paper. “Last year, I went on a trip to Somalia to work in a hospital. It was basically an open-air tent. The year before that, I rebuilt houses that were ruined in the Haiti earthquake.”

“That’s incredible,” Vince gushed as he ripped a piece of tape from the dispenser.

Hanna opened her mouth, wanting to boast about some over-the-top volunteer work she’d done too, but she couldn’t think of a single thing. She glanced at Vince, who was beaming at Dinah like she’d just invented penicillin.

Hanna turned to her gift, a large Lego space set, and taped wrapping paper around the sides, vowing to be the best gift-wrapper ever. The other volunteers stopped by every so often to grab tape or drop off a roll of colored ribbon, chatting briefly with Vince. Hanna recognized two girls from Body Tonic—one of them, Yolanda, was the Pilates instructor, and the other worked as a lifeguard. About a half hour later, Dinah slid off the table and excused herself to use the bathroom. This was Hanna’s chance.

“So did you have to do a zillion bench presses to work off that scoop of butter pecan the other day?” Hanna teased, sidling closer to him.

Vince looked up. “Shhhh.” He glanced covertly at the Body Tonic trainers. “If they find out I’m an ice cream junkie, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Hanna giggled. “What’s in it for me if I don’t tell?”

Vince raised an eyebrow flirtatiously. “Hmmm. Well, what would you want?”

Okay, this was more like it. Hanna cleared her throat and scootched up onto the table, her thigh pressing Vince’s waist. “Let’s get coffee sometime. Talk about . . . you know. Fitness. Pervy Santas.”

Vince laughed. “That sounds awesome.”

“Great. How about Wednesday?” Hanna asked.

The light faded from Vince’s eyes. “Uh, I can’t Wednesday,” he said, avoiding eye contact.




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