Wicked

Hanna clicked off the TV as the morning news moved on to a story about an E. coli scare in local grocery store lettuce. After a few more layers of Mederma, foundation, and powder, Hanna decided her scar was as hidden as it was going to get. She spritzed herself with Narciso Rodriguez perfume, straightened her uniform skirt, threw all her crap into her Fendi-logo tote, and walked downstairs.

Kate was already at the breakfast table. When she saw Hanna, her whole face broke into a dazzling smile. “Omigod, Hanna!” she cried. “Tom brought this amazing organic honeydew at Fresh Fields last night. You have to try it.”

Hanna hated how Kate called her father Tom, like he was their age. It wasn’t like Hanna called Isabel by her first name. Actually, she avoided calling Isabel anything at all. Hanna walked across the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. “I hate honeydew,” she said primly. “It tastes like sperm.”

“Hanna,” her father scolded. Hanna hadn’t noticed him by the kitchen island, finishing a slice of buttered toast. Isabel was next to him, still in those hideous puke-green scrubs, looking particularly faux-tan orange.

Mr. Marin approached the girls. He put one hand on Kate’s shoulder and one hand on Hanna’s. “I’m off. See you girls tonight.”

“Bye, Tom,” Kate said sweetly.

Her father left, and Isabel clomped back upstairs. Hanna stared at the front page of the Philadelphia Inquirer her father had left on the table, but unfortunately, all the headlines were about Ian’s bail hearing. Kate kept eating her melon. Hanna wanted to just get up and leave, but why should she have to be the one to go? This was her house.

“Hanna,” Kate said in a small, sad voice. Hanna glanced up, giving Kate an arch look. “Hanna, I’m sorry,” Kate rushed on. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t just…sit here and not talk. I know you’re mad about this fall—about what happened at Le Bec-Fin. I was such a mess back then. And I’m really sorry.”

Hanna flipped to the next page of the newspaper. The obituaries, good. She pretended to be fascinated by an article about Ethel Norris, eighty-five, choreographer of a modern dance troupe in Philadelphia. She’d died yesterday in her sleep.

“I’m finding this difficult too.” Kate’s voice shook. “I miss my dad. I wish he were still alive. No offense to Tom, but it’s weird to see my mom with someone else. And it’s weird to be all happy for both of them, just like that. They don’t think about us, do they?”

Hanna was so outraged, she wanted to throw Kate’s melon across the kitchen. Everything out of Kate’s mouth was so scripted, it was like she’d downloaded some perfect feel bad for me speech off the Internet.

Kate took a breath. “I’m sorry about what I did to you in Philly, but I had other stuff going on that day. Stuff I shouldn’t have taken out on you.” There was a little clink as she set down her fork. “Something really scary happened to me right before that dinner. I hadn’t told my mom yet, and I was sure she was going to lose it.”

Hanna frowned, glancing at Kate for a split second. Trouble?

Kate pushed her plate away. “I was going out with this guy, Connor, last summer. One night, one of the last weekends before school started, things went kind of…far.” Her forehead wrinkled, and her bottom lip started to tremble. “He broke up with me the next day. About a month later, I went to the gynecologist, and there were…complications.”

Hanna widened her eyes. “Were you pregnant?”

Kate shook her head quickly. “No. It was…something else.”

Hanna was pretty sure that if her mouth gaped open any farther, it would graze the top of the table. Her brain raced a million miles a minute, trying to figure out what complications meant. An STD? A third ovary? A funny-looking nipple? “So…are you okay?”

Kate shrugged. “I am now. But it sucked for a while. It was really scary.”

Hanna narrowed her eyes. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I wanted to explain what was going on,” Kate admitted. Her eyes glistened with tears. “Look, please don’t tell anyone what I just told you. My mom knows, but Tom doesn’t.”

Hanna took a sip of her coffee. She was floored by Kate’s words—and also a little relieved. Perfect Kate had screwed up. And never in a zillion years did Hanna think she’d ever see Kate cry. “I won’t say anything,” Hanna said. “We all have issues.”

Kate let out a big, dubious sniff. “Right. What’s your issue?”

Hanna set down her polka-dotted coffee cup, debating. If nothing else, she could learn whether Ali had told Kate her secret. “Fine. But you probably already know it. The first time it happened was that time Alison and I came to Annapolis.”

She peeked at Kate, trying to gauge if she understood. Kate poked her fork into a piece of honeydew, shifting her eyes uneasily around the room. “You’re still doing that?” she asked quietly. Hanna felt a mixture of thrill and disappointment—so Ali had run back to the patio and told her.

“Not really,” Hanna mumbled.

They were silent for a moment. Hanna stared out the window at a big snowdrift in the neighbors’ backyard. Even though it was the ass-crack of dawn, the bratty six-year-old twins were out in the snow, pitching icy snowballs at squirrels. Then Kate cocked her head quizzically. “I meant to ask you. What’s up with you and Naomi and Riley?”

Hanna gritted her teeth. “Why are you asking me? Aren’t they your brand-new BFFs?”

Kate thoughtfully pushed a strand of chestnut hair behind her ears. “You know, I think they want to be friends. Maybe you should give them a chance.”

Hanna snorted. “Sorry, I don’t talk to girls who insult me to my face.”

Kate leaned forward on her elbows. “They probably say that stuff because they’re jealous of you. If you were nice to them, I bet they’d be nice back. And think about it—if we join up with them, we could be unstoppable.”

Hanna raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“Face it, Hanna.” Kate’s eyes danced. “You and I would totally rule their group.”

Hanna blinked. She gazed at the hanging rack over the kitchen island, which held a bunch of All-Clad pots and pans Hanna’s mother had bought a few years ago at Williams-Sonoma. Ms. Marin had left most of her personal belongings behind when she left for Singapore, and Isabel had had no problem claiming them as her own.

Kate definitely had a point. Naomi and Riley were insecure to the core—they had been ever since Alison DiLaurentis had dropped them for seemingly no reason in sixth grade and decided to be friends with Hanna, Spencer, Aria, and Emily instead. It certainly would be nice to have a clique again—especially one she could rule.

“Okay. I’m in,” Hanna decided.

Kate grinned. “Awesome.” She raised her orange juice glass in a toast. Hanna clinked it with her coffee mug. They both smiled and sipped. Then Hanna glanced back down at the newspaper, which was still open in front of her. Her eyes went right to an ad for vacation packages to Bermuda. All your dreams will come true, the ad copy assured her.

They’d better.

12

IT’S ALL JUST A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE

Early Wednesday evening, Aria and Mike sat down at Rabbit Rabbit, the Montgomery family’s favorite vegetarian restaurant. The room smelled like a mix of basil, oregano, and soy cheese. A Regina Spektor song played loudly over the stereo, and the place was bustling with families, couples, and kids her age. After Ian’s chilling release and the new A note yesterday, it felt good to be surrounded by so many people.

Mike scowled around the dining room and pulled up the hood of his oversize Champion sweatshirt. “I don’t get why we have to meet this dude anyway. Mom’s only gone out with him twice.”

Aria didn’t quite understand either. When Ella had returned home from her date with Xavier last night, she’d raved about how wonderfully it had gone and how easily she and Xavier had connected. Apparently, Xavier had given Ella a studio tour this afternoon, and when she’d gotten home from school today, Aria had found a note from Ella on the kitchen table, asking that she and Mike clean themselves up and meet her at Rabbit Rabbit at 7 P.M. sharp. Oh yeah, and Xavier was coming. Who knew both her parents could fall in love again so easily? They weren’t even officially divorced yet.

Aria felt happy for Ella, of course, but she also felt embarrassed for herself. She’d been so certain that Xavier was interested in her. It was mortifying that she’d read the situation at the gallery so wrong.

Mike sniffed loudly, breaking Aria from her thoughts. “It smells like rabbit pee in here.” He made a retching noise.

Aria rolled her eyes. “You’re just pissed Mom picked a place that doesn’t serve wings.”

Mike crumpled his napkin. “Can you blame me? A virile man like me can’t live on vegetables alone.”

Aria cringed, grossed out that Mike was referring to himself as both virile and a man. “How was your date with Savannah the other day, by the way?”

Mike cracked his knuckles, thumbing through the menu. “That’s for me to know and for you to obsess about.”

Aria raised an eyebrow. “Aha! You didn’t immediately correct me that it wasn’t a date.”

Mike shrugged, stabbing his fork into the cactus centerpiece. Aria picked up a cornflower blue crayon from the little cup in the middle of the table; Rabbit Rabbit put crayons on every table and encouraged its patrons to draw on the backs of their place mats. Finished drawings were hung on the restaurant’s walls. These days, the walls were all covered, so the staff had started hanging place mats from the ceiling.

“You made it!” Ella cried as she walked through the doorway with Xavier. Ella’s newly dyed hair shone. Xavier’s cheeks were adorably pink from the cold. Aria tried to smile, but she had a feeling it came out more like a grimace.

Ella made a flourishing gesture at Xavier. “Aria, you two have already met. But Xavier, this is my son, Michelangelo.”

Mike looked like he was going to puke. “No one calls me that.”

“I won’t tell.” Xavier stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He glanced at Aria. “Good to see you again.”

Aria gave him a tight smile, too embarrassed to make eye contact. She gazed around the room, searching out the last place mat Ali had decorated before she vanished. Ali had come here with Aria’s family and had drawn a cartoon girl and a guy holding hands, skipping off toward a rainbow. “They’re secret boyfriend and girlfriend,” she’d announced to the table, her eyes on Aria. This wasn’t long after Ali and Aria had caught Byron with Meredith…but looking back now, maybe Ali had been referring to her secret relationship with Ian.

Xavier and Ella shrugged out of their coats and sat down. Xavier looked around, clearly amused by all the drawings on the walls. Ella kept clucking nervously, fidgeting with her hair, her jewelry, her fork. After a few seconds of silence, Mike narrowed his eyes at Xavier. “How old are you, anyway?”