“Agreed!” Hanna crowed drunkenly, feeling a surge of confidence. “And he really is a loser. Guess what he’s doing tonight? He’s going caroling with a group of people from his church. They sing super-religious songs and probably reenact the Nativity scene or something. It’s a Wednesday tradition.”

“Seriously?” Dinah made a face.

“Uh-huh. And I was going to crash it.” Hanna paused to drink the rest of her vodka-cranberry. “Apparently, Vince is looking for a good church girl to settle down with. But forget it. He’s not worth the time.”

“Good plan.” Dinah nodded determinedly. “Let’s grab some dinner instead. Vince will be singing, and we’ll be having fun.”

“Deal,” Hanna said, giving her a high five. Then she giggled. “You know, Vince will probably make all of the carolers drink AminoSpa between songs.”

Dinah almost spit out her drink from laughing. “He probably wrote a carol about AminoSpa!”

“He’s probably going to try and sell it door to door while they sing it in German!” Hanna giggled, picturing it.

They doubled over in hysterics, eliciting a few strange looks from everyone around them. But Hanna didn’t care. She didn’t care that she’d just let Vince go, either. She’d made a new friend. Maybe that was what she’d wanted all along.

Chapter 13

Gotcha!

“Hanna? Hanna?”

Hanna opened one eye and saw her father standing in her doorway. She bolted upright. There was a dirty-sock taste in her mouth, and her head felt like it weighed a million pounds. She also had the sneaking suspicion she reeked of alcohol—she couldn’t remember showering after she got back from Snooker’s last night.

“Your alarm has been going off for a half hour.” Mr. Marin pointed to Hanna’s cell phone on the nightstand, which was blinking on and off. “Some of us are trying to get a little bit of extra sleep.”

Hanna looked groggily at her phone, then pressed a button to stop the alarm noise. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Her father grumbled something and shut her door.

She looked at the clock. It was 5:30 A.M., time to get up for the morning session of boot camp. Hanna groaned and rolled out of bed, regretting the tequila shot she’d done with Dinah last night in celebration that Vince was a loser. The shot had cut the night short—after downing it, Dinah’s face had turned green, and she’d run to the bathroom. When she returned, she said she should head home. After that, the only thing Hanna remembered was stuffing enough money in the Hollis meter to leave the Prius parked there overnight, calling a cab, and stumbling blindly into the house. Luckily, Isabel, her father, and Kate had been out doing some kind of Twelve Days of Christmas activity, so no one had caught her.

She managed to pull on exercise gear, slide her feet into her sneakers, call a cab to retrieve her car in Hollis, and drive to the gym. As she walked toward Body Tonic’s front entrance, she pulled out her phone and composed a text to Dinah. Are you here today? Feeling as shitty as I am? If only I had some AminoSpa—ha, ha.

She hit SEND, expecting Dinah to text her back immediately, but she got no reply. Maybe Dinah had ditched boot camp and was still asleep.

The inside of Body Tonic smelled like massage oil and fresh flowers, which made Hanna’s stomach turn. The perky girl at the front desk gave her a wave, and Hanna trudged into the changing room without saying hello back. She checked her phone once more before throwing it in her locker, but Dinah still hadn’t replied. Shrugging, she headed for the room where boot camp always met. When she pushed through the doors and saw Dinah standing against the mirror, her head thrown back in laughter, Hanna stopped short.

Dinah looked fresh and healthy, as though she hadn’t drunk a drop of alcohol last night. She was standing next to Vince, an AminoSpa bottle in hand, grinning at him as though he was the Messiah. Vince was grinning at her, too.

“Your rendition of ‘Away in a Manger’ was amazing,” Dinah cooed. “So heartfelt.”

“Yeah, well, everyone was really into the way you put together that impromptu Nativity play on Mr. Larsen’s lawn,” Vince answered. “What made you think of doing something like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Dinah lowered her lashes. “I’ve been caroling since my first Communion. I really know how to get people into the spirit.”

She took Vince’s hand. Vince wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed. They looked into each other’s eyes like they were soul mates, and then moved closer and kissed.

Hanna’s mouth dropped open. She wanted to run out of the room, but the bottoms of her sneakers felt rubber-cemented to the floor. Dinah had gone . . . caroling? As in the caroling Hanna had told her about? Their conversation last night rushed through her mind. How Dinah had said Vince was a loser. How Dinah had said they were better off without him. How she’d skipped out shortly after Hanna had told her about Vince’s secret caroling mission, claiming the tequila shot had made her sick.

Was it all a ruse?

A tortured-sounding squeak spilled from her lips, and Dinah and Vince turned. As soon as Dinah spotted Hanna, the corners of her bow-shaped lips curled into an evil smile. Vince gave Hanna a sheepish wave. Hanna grabbed Dinah’s arm. “We need to talk.”

She dragged Dinah into the hall, stopping next to a large stack of Pilates Magic Circles. “What the hell?”

Dinah rocked back and forth on her heels. “What the hell what?” Her voice sounded nothing like the awesome, friendly, conspiratorial girl who’d sat next to Hanna at Snooker’s last night.




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