It was Kate.

  Hanna grabbed her phone, which was conveniently in her bag’s front pocket, and snapped a picture. Then she and Dinah sprinted out of the dressing room. Out of breath, they collapsed on a table of jeans and stared at each other for a pregnant pause. At the exact same moment, they both burst into peals of laughter.

  Chapter 12

  Soul Mates

  A few hours later, Hanna sat on a ripped barstool at Snooker’s, a college bar in Hollis. There were sports jerseys all over the walls and ugly green banker’s lamps behind the counter, and the air smelled like fried mozzarella sticks and stale beer. An old Bruce Springsteen song played on the jukebox, and the room was packed with loud college kids.

  “Okay, who would you rather hook up with,” Hanna said, scanning the crowd, “Mr. I’m Taking Over Daddy’s Company in Five Years, or Mr. The Only Interesting Thing About Me Is That I’m Irish?” She pointed at two college boys nursing beers in the corner. The first guy wore a preppy button-down and had a smug look on his face that only someone with a trust fund could pull off. The second guy had doughy features, red hair, was wearing a T-shirt that said DUBLIN on it, and was drinking—of course—a Guinness.

  “Ugh, neither.” Dinah popped the olive from her martini into her mouth. “Look at the girls they’re with! Is that a Burberry bag she’s carrying? That is so 2001!”

  “Says the girl who wears poodle skirts,” Hanna teased, poking Dinah on the arm.

  Dinah pretended to be offended. “Poodle skirts are retro,” she said haughtily.

  “I forgive you,” Hanna said. “After all, you’ve got an awesome bag.” She pointed to Dinah’s quilted Chanel on the stool. It turned out it wasn’t a fake—Dinah’s aunt who worked at Bazaar had put her at the top of the waiting list and scored her one from the New York flagship store.

  The bartender set down another martini for Dinah and another vodka-cranberry for Hanna, and they clinked glasses. A warm sense of happiness washed over Hanna as she took the first sip. After she and Dinah had scampered away from Kate and Santa in the dressing room, they’d ditched the Elizabeth and James dress on a random table, called a truce, and decided to hit the college bars. Dinah had left her car at the mall, and on the drive over in Hanna’s Prius, they’d chatted about fashion, beauty products, celebrities, and their favorite suburban boutiques, Hanna’s four most favorite topics. The conversation had come naturally, as though they’d been friends for years.

  But when they’d approached Snooker’s, Hanna had been apprehensive. She didn’t have a fake ID, and after getting caught shoplifting last fall, she didn’t really want the cops after her again. Dinah had squeezed her hand and said, “Leave everything to me.” She breezed up to the bouncer, who had a crew cut and wore a heavy gold chain around his neck, and said, “Hey, Jake! Remember me?”

  The bouncer had smiled at Dinah appreciatively, but then asked to see the girls’ IDs. Dinah had stuck her lip out in a pout. “C’mon, Jakie-poo. Don’t be like that.” She traced her fingers up and down his arm. Finally, the bouncer just shrugged and opened the door for them. Inside, Hanna gave Dinah a thumbs-up. It was just like something Ali might have done.

  Dinah reached for a French fry from the plate they’d ordered. “We are so going against our boot camp pledges right now. I bet Vince is going to know and make us work out for five hours next session.”

  “Yep, I can feel the fat oozing back to my thighs,” Hanna joked.

  Dinah waved her hand. “As if you ever had fat in your thighs! Why did you join boot camp, anyway?”

  Hanna rolled her eyes. “Uh, because I’m horribly out of shape and can’t fit into any of my clothes?”

  Dinah stared at her like she was crazy. “Are you one of those girls who looks in the mirror and sees a cow?”

  “I’m not like that,” Hanna assured her. Or was she? Every time she looked at her reflection, she found something wrong. Her hair looked oily. Her arms were puffy. Her face was too round. A lot of the time, she barely noticed all the hard work she’d put in with Mona in eighth grade. All she saw was the old Hanna, the loser she’d been back in middle school.

  Hanna popped a fry into her mouth. “You know, I had this beautiful friend once. She was popular, gorgeous, the kind of girl everyone wanted to be. I was in her clique, but she always made it clear that I was hanging on by a thread. She made fun of the way I ate, how my jeans didn’t fit, everything. After so many years of hearing that, it’s kind of hard to shake.”

  Dinah leaned her elbows on the counter. “So what happened to this girl? You ditched her, right?”

  Hanna kept her eyes fixed on the Absolut bottles behind the bar. “Actually . . . she’s dead. Her name was Alison DiLaurentis. Maybe you’ve heard of her.”

  “Maybe I’ve heard of her?” Dinah’s eyes popped wide. “That was only like the biggest story in all of Rosewood. They found her body not so long ago, right?”

  Hanna nodded.

  “Wow.” Dinah knocked back the rest of her martini. “You know, I knew Alison.”

  “You did?” Hanna’s head whipped up.

  “Uh-huh.” A faraway look clouded Dinah’s face. “We met at a field hockey camp—I used to play in elementary school before I finally admitted to my parents how much I hated it. Alison was at the camp, too. She ruled a group of girls there, made them do everything she wanted. And for a while, I was their target. They called me Dinah Vagina. I didn’t even do anything to them.”

  “That’s terrible,” Hanna said. “Ali used to call me Hanna Mon-TON-a. And a bunch of other names I don’t even want to think about. Part of me wishes she could somehow see how much weight I’ve lost since then, how I’ve transformed.”

  Then Hanna sighed. “Actually, what am I saying? Ali would still probably find something about me to pick on if she was around now.”

  “Except now you wouldn’t be friends with her, right?” Dinah said, linking her arm with Hanna’s. “You’re way too strong and independent to put up with that bitch.”

  “Totally,” Hanna said shakily, although she wasn’t really sure if that was true. Ali’s jeering words still haunted her, especially when reincarnated through Mona as A. But she felt an even stronger kinship with Dinah now. Ali had touched them both, for better or for worse. They’d both been the girls Ali loved to tease.

  A cheer rose up behind them, and Hanna turned around to see Mr. Irish chugging a bunch of beers on a back table. “Sexy,” she murmured, nudging Dinah. “I just might have to go home with him tonight.”

  Dinah snickered. “I thought you were saving yourself for Vince.”

  “I thought you were,” Hanna retorted. An awkward beat passed, then suddenly the girls burst into laughter.

  Dinah sighed. “I don’t know what that guy’s deal is. I saw him outside of the gym a couple of days ago, and he went on and on about how he was so happy that you and I were paired up together—he thought I could really help you out and teach you something.”

  Hanna slammed the counter with her palm. “I don’t believe it. He said the same thing to me—about you!”

  One of Dinah’s eyebrows rose. “Do you think he wants us to compete for his attention? That’s probably been his grand plan all along.”

  “What a jerk,” Hanna spat. “He acts all saintly, but he’s really just trying to get us to throw ourselves at him.” She hated to think that way about Vince, but maybe it was true.

  “And what’s with that vitamin water crap he keeps pushing?” Dinah rolled her eyes. “Every time I turn around he’s swigging it.”

  “I bet it doesn’t even have any vitamins in it,” Hanna said. “And it’s probably a zillion calories. He’s been brainwashed.”

  “You know what?” Dinah got a determined look on her face. “He’s a loser. We’re better off without him.”

  “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.

  “I thought we called a truce! I thought we both decided he was a loser!”

  Dinah started laughing. “I told you he’d go for me. All’s fair in love and war.”

  Hanna’s head swirled, knocking her off-balance. “I can’t believe you,” she whispered, feeling her throat get froggy and tears rush to her eyes. More images from last night flashed in her mind. How Dinah had said, offhandedly, that she’d love for Hanna to go to Larchmont Academy—she could use someone cool like Hanna there. How Dinah promised to introduce Hanna to her Bazaar-editor aunt when she visited for Christmas. How Dinah had given Hanna a big hug when they left, saying she’d see her tomorrow.

  “I thought we were friends,” Hanna sputtered.

  “Oh please.” Dinah rolled her eyes. “You’re just pissed because I tricked you. Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing to me?”

  “I wouldn’t have. I didn’t,” Hanna squeaked, her voice sounding way more pathetic and vulnerable than she would have liked. And then, before the tears could spill down her cheeks, she whirled around and headed for the locker room. Her fingers shook as she worked the combination to her locker. She grabbed her bag and marched out of the gym without even putting on her coat.

  As soon as she emerged into the chilly air, she let out a pent-up sob. The tears streamed hot and fast down her face. She staggered to her car and leaned on the hood, feeling like a huge water balloon inside of her had burst. She cried for Ali’s death. The horror of Mona. The nightmare that was her new family. That she hadn’t heard from Lucas at all. That she had pursued Vince at all, when who she really wanted was Lucas. Everything just felt so . . . wrong.

  “Aw, is someone crushed?”

  Hanna gazed across the parking lot through blurry tears. A figure stood on the other side of her car, a sneaky smile on her face. For a moment, Hanna was afraid it was Ali. But then her vision cleared. This girl had chestnut-colored hair, not blond. It was Kate standing there against the door of her Honda Civic, staring at Hanna at her worst.

  Chapter 14

  Mutually Assured Destruction

  “W-what are you doing here?” Hanna stammered, straightening up.

  Kate giggled. “Was boot camp just too much for you today, Hanna?” She stretched out something in her hands. It was an extra-large red T-shirt that said GET YOUR BUTT IN GEAR!

  Hanna’s stomach dropped. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The program sounds really awesome.” Kate waved the T-shirt tauntingly under Hanna’s nose. “I’m sure everyone at Rosewood Day would love to know what you’ve been up to.”

  She pulled out her phone and showed Hanna a series of pictures. Hanna and the red-shirted boot campers running through a tire obstacle course behind Body Tonic, all of them fat and red-faced and ridiculous-looking. The boot campers gathered in a circle doing one of Vince’s AminoSpa chants. And the coup de grace: Dinah and Vince kissing, and Hanna standing in the doorway just now, looking devastated.

  She’d seen everything.

  “Give me that,” Hanna said, grabbing for Kate’s phone.

  Kate held it over Hanna’s head. “Not so fast!”

  “Have you been following me?” Hanna shrieked. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  “What can I say? I love a good secret.” Kate rocked back and forth in her fur-lined Uggs. “And someone gave me an amazing tip-off, so I followed you here.”

  A shiver snaked up Hanna’s spine. Who could have done that? Immediately, A came to mind . . . but A was gone.

  “Don’t be ashamed of going to fat camp!” Kate went on. “At least you’re making a positive change, you know?” She typed something into her phone. “I think this would make a lovely post on your Facebook wall. And maybe people would sympathize with you for losing the guy to that other girl!”

  Hanna’s heart pounded hard. “I’m not interested in Vince!”

  Kate gave her a knowing look. “You keep telling yourself that, Hanna. But the photos don’t lie. Now, what would be a good caption for Facebook? Boot camp is so amazing, and look at my awesome new friends? Or how about something simple, like Getting my huge ass in gear?”

  Hanna let out a whimper. She was “friends” with all kinds of people on Facebook. Naomi Zeigler and Riley Wolfe, two popular bitches who’d love nothing more than to hear about this. Senior girls who invited her to amazing parties. Mason Byers, James Freed, Noel Kahn, and her ex, Sean Ackard. That Mona had wanted to kill Hanna was bad enough—a post about boot camp would cement her status as a loser for good. She already saw herself sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch. Spending every Saturday night in her room. Never being invited to a party again.