Riley gave her a crazy look. “Uh, this sure as hell looks like you.”
She shoved her cell phone in Hanna’s face. Hanna stared at it, fully expecting to see Colleen in the Latvian yogurt commercial, but her own image popped up instead. The first part of the video was Hanna at the pole dancing class. Her skimpy top rode up and her shorts rode down, showing off a strip of her lacy underwear. Her hips looked huge as she did circles and rolls, and when she tried to climb that pole she looked like a deranged monkey. The camera caught an unfortunate shot of her crotch as she tumbled to the ground.
“What?” Hanna whispered.
The video kept going. The next part showed Hanna skulking through the bushes at the King James Mall, staring into Victoria’s Secret with binoculars. The camo made her skin look red and blotchy and her waist so much bigger than it really was. And when she emerged from the bushes, she had a couple of leaves on her butt. The camera zoomed in on them as she followed Mike and Colleen down the concourse.
Hanna peered at the girls, her heart thudding faster. “I don’t understand.”
“Doing some spying, were you, Hanna?” Naomi giggled.
The video continued. Next was a clip of Colleen walking into the photographer’s studio, Hanna sneaking up behind her, looking desperate and ridiculous. And then it showed Hanna just a few hours before, retrieving Colleen’s photos, looking through them angrily, and tossing them into her glove box. The final frame was a message in bold, red type. Hanna Marin, desperate stalker!
“Oh my God.” Hanna’s stomach sank.
Naomi snickered. “I always thought you were a loser for going out with a younger guy, but spying on him after he dumps you? That’s a new low, even for you. And now everyone knows.”
“Everyone?” Hanna croaked.
She stared into the ballroom and got her answer. A bunch of Rosewood Day kids gaped at their phones, then raised their heads en masse and gawked at Hanna. “Looking hot in camo, Hanna!” Seth Cardiff said. “Hey, Mike, you’ve got a secret admirer!” Mason Byers chuckled.
Mike. Hanna found him and Colleen near the window, staring at his phone. Hanna could pinpoint the exact moment when Colleen got to the part in the video where Hanna stole her photos. She covered her mouth with her hand and then turned to Hanna with a betrayed look on her face. Mike’s head shot up and he stared at her, too, his eyes burning. Colleen turned and fled into the lobby. Mike followed.
Hanna took a few crooked steps backward, almost tripping over a long curtain that separated the main room from a little hallway. How had this happened? Who had been following her around? Who had sent that video to everyone?
Of course: A. This was A’s reason for encouraging her to spy on Colleen: to throw it back in her face and make sure she lost Mike for good.
28
TIME IS RUNNING OUT
“They went all out, huh?” Isaac said as he and Emily walked into the Hollis Gemological Museum.
“Seriously,” Emily whispered, looking around. She’d never been to a political fund-raiser ball before, but this one was amazing—way better than prom. Tons of white balloons hugged the arched ceiling. A live band was playing a jazzy song, and a few couples in tuxedos and gowns were slow dancing. Emily had never seen so many diamonds—and she wasn’t talking just about the ones under glass. A jewel thief would have a field day just slipping rings off rich women’s fingers at this party.
Ali had brought Emily, Spencer, Hanna, and Aria to this place. They had sometimes spent whole afternoons at the museum, fantasizing about what it must be like to wear enormous diamonds to fancy parties. “When I’m older, I’m going to have an engagement ring as enormous as that one,” Ali said, pointing to the ten-carat stone on display. “No one’s going to stop me.” Emily wondered if she meant Real Ali. She’d probably assumed she’d keep her twin’s charmed life forever.
“This place is gorgeous,” Emily murmured.
“But you’re the most gorgeous thing here,” Isaac said, squeezing Emily’s hand.
Emily gave Isaac a wobbly smile, trying to admire his handsome tuxedo, brushed-back hair, and shiny shoes. But she couldn’t really enjoy being here. The black maxi dress with beading at the bodice felt binding around her ribs, and her feet wobbled in the high heels she’d found in the back of her closet. She’d practically drawn a messy red line across her face while applying her lipstick, her hands were shaking so hard.
The idea of coming face-to-face with Gayle terrified her. Gayle would tell everyone about her pregnancy . . . and then Isaac would know. He’d ask why they’d hung out three times now and Emily hadn’t said anything. He would hate her, and he’d tell his mom, her parents, everyone.
She knew that going to the gala was part of the plan to get Gayle’s cell phone and determine whether she was A, but as soon as Isaac had shown up at Emily’s door, she’d felt like this was a huge mistake. But if she bolted, Isaac would ask questions she didn’t know how to answer.
She scanned the crowd, looking for her friends—it was important that Aria and Hanna were here, too, otherwise the plan wouldn’t work. A bunch of kids were laughing at something on their phones. Mason Byers and Lanie Iler were giggling over a plate of pasta. Sean Ackard was talking animatedly to Nanette Ulster from the Quaker school. A tall blonde in an expensive-looking red gown emerged from the bathroom. Emily stiffened, suddenly alert. Gayle?
She grabbed Isaac’s tuxedo sleeve and ushered him back into the lobby. They stopped under a giant piece of rose quartz that was suspended from the ceiling, and Emily caught her breath. As much as she’d prepared for this moment, actually being faced with the possibility terrified her.
“What’s going on?” Isaac asked, confused.
“Um, I just wanted to . . .” Emily peered at the woman in red again—she accepted a cocktail from a passing waiter and turned toward them. Her face was lined, and her nose was thin and pointy, not small and round like Gayle’s. Oops.
Of course, that might mean Gayle was walking through the front entrance at this very moment—and they would be the first thing she saw. “I changed my mind. Let’s go dance.” Emily yanked Isaac into the main room again, nearly trampling a bunch of uppity-looking Main Line women wearing VOTE FOR TOM buttons.
Isaac laughed nervously as he stumbled behind her. “Are you okay?”
“Of course!” Emily knew she must seem insane. She wrapped her arms around Isaac and began a slow waltz to the Sinatra song the band was playing. The dance floor had a good view of every table, the bar, and the silent auction booth. Tons of people she recognized from the Marins’ parties stood around chatting. Several photographers circled the room, snapping pictures.
Isaac spun Emily. “It’s fun being a guest instead of a caterer.”
“How’d you convince your mom to let you go to this with me, anyway?” Emily asked idly.
“I told her the truth, actually. She’s coming around to the idea of us together again, believe it or not.”
Emily couldn’t believe it, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Her gaze flicked from the front entrance to the emergency exit to a little nook by the bathrooms. Noel Kahn’s mother glided across her field of view, wearing a tiara. Hanna’s dad was holding court in the corner, talking to a bunch of wealthy-looking businessmen.
“I’ve really missed you,” Isaac went on.
Emily pulled back, feeling bad. Isaac deserved her full attention. It felt good to be wrapped in his arms, but she was so scared that any minute, the delicate house of cards that was her life would topple over.
She couldn’t help but scan the crowd again. Mr. Marin stood up and strode across the room to someone who’d just emerged from a side entrance. Emily craned her neck to see, but her view was blocked.
“So what do you say?” Isaac asked.
Emily blinked stupidly. Isaac had been speaking this whole time and she hadn’t heard a word. “What was that?”
Isaac licked his lips. “I wanted to know if we’re dating again.”
Emily’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Despite her distraction, despite the fact that she was keeping something huge from Isaac, the words felt welcome.
“There’s only one thing,” Isaac interrupted before Emily had a chance to speak. “Something is bothering you. Something you think you can’t talk about. But you can, Emily. Whatever it is, I’m here for you. If it’s something with that guy we saw at Hollis the other day, don’t be afraid to tell me.”
Emily shut her eyes. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Derrick.”
“But it is something?”
The trumpets blaring on the stage were starting to make Emily’s head hurt. “It’s nothing.”
“You seem so stressed.” Isaac’s voice was pleading. “I just want to help.”
Emily concentrated on the dance steps, delaying her answer. Isaac cared and wanted to make everything better, which made her feel relieved and terrible at the same time. She wanted him to like her. She wanted him to want to get back together with her. But what did she want for herself?
“Breaking up was a huge mistake, Emily,” Isaac said, staring deeply into Emily’s eyes. “I want to start over. What do you think?”
“I . . .” Emily started, but then she noticed another blond figure at the edge of the dance floor. She was the right height and build, and Mr. Marin was talking to her happily and graciously. Emily ducked, her heart jackhammering again. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
She grabbed Isaac once more, pulled him off the dance floor, and escaped around the corner to a small alcove that held a variety of meteorites behind glass. Isaac crossed his arms over his chest, looking fed up. “Are you going to let me in on what’s going on with you tonight?”
The woman talking to Mr. Marin turned slightly. Only a few more degrees, and she’d see Emily and Isaac. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the sides of Isaac’s face and planted her lips squarely on his. Isaac’s eyes widened for a moment, but then they fluttered closed, and he passionately kissed her back. Emily felt her pulse pounding firmly in her fingertips and her lips. The kiss felt good, but she knew it was only a means to an end. She felt like the worst person in the world.
Isaac pulled back for a moment and smiled crookedly. “So I guess that’s a yes?”
Emily swallowed hard, feeling like she’d just done something she couldn’t undo. She wasn’t acting like herself at all. She glanced again into the ballroom. The woman who’d been talking to Mr. Marin was gone.
Beep.
Her phone was glowing through the flimsy mesh fabric of her silver clutch. Emily stared at it in horror. “It looks like you have a text,” Isaac said, sounding relaxed and happy.
A lump formed in Emily’s throat. She pulled out the phone and peeked at the screen. Her blood ran cold.
“Isaac, I have to go,” she whispered.
“Go?” The content look on Isaac’s face vanished. “What are you talking about?”
