Wanted

10 A TICKET TO POPULARITY

A few hours later, Hanna maneuvered her Prius up the winding driveway, turned off the engine, and grabbed two shopping bags from Otter from the passenger seat. She’d made an emergency, I-feel-sorry-for-myself trip to the King James Mall after school today, though it wasn’t much fun shopping without a BFF or Mike. She didn’t trust her judgment anymore, either, and she wasn’t sure if the ultra-skinny Gucci leather pants she’d purchased were disco-fabulous or just plain slutty. Sasha, Hanna’s favorite salesgirl, had said Hanna looked great in them…but then again, she got commission on the sale.

It was pitch-black outside, and a thin crust of frost had formed over the front yard. She heard a giggle. Her heart started to hammer. Hanna paused in the driveway. “Hello?” she called. The word seemed to freeze right in front of her face before shattering into thousands of shards on the driveway. Hanna looked right and left, but it was too dark to see anything.

There was another giggle, and then a full-throated laugh. Hanna exhaled with relief. It was coming from inside the house. Hanna crept up the front walk and slipped quietly into the foyer. Three pairs of boots sat by the front door. The emerald Loeffler Randalls were Riley’s—she had a thing for green. Hanna had been with Naomi when she bought the spike-heeled booties lying next to them. Hanna didn’t recognize the third pair at all, but when she heard another peal of giggles from upstairs, one girl’s laugh stood out from the rest. Hanna had heard an identical version of that laugh many times, sometimes at her expense. It was Courtney. And she was in Hanna’s house.

Hanna tiptoed up the stairs. The hallway smelled of rum and coconut. An old Madonna remix blared from Kate’s closed bedroom door. Hanna approached and pressed her ear to the wall. She heard whispering.

“I think I saw her car pull into the driveway!” Naomi hissed.

“We should hide!” Riley cried.

“She’d better not try and hang out with us,” Kate scoffed. “Right, Courtney?”

“Um,” Courtney said, not really sounding certain at all.

Hanna padded to her bedroom and resisted the urge to slam the door behind her. Dot, her miniature Doberman, rose from her doggie bed and danced around her feet, but she was so angry that she barely noticed her. She should’ve seen this coming. Courtney had become Naomi, Kate, and Riley’s pet project, probably because she was the new media darling. All day, they’d prowled the Rosewood Day hallways in an intimidating four-girl line, flirting with the cutest boys and rolling their eyes at Hanna whenever she crossed their path. By eighth period, students were no longer looking at Courtney with uneasiness but respect and admiration. Four guys had asked her to the Valentine’s Day dance. Scarlet Rivers, a finalist in the fashion design department’s Project Runway contest, wanted to design a dress with Courtney as her muse. Not that Hanna was stalking Courtney or anything. It had all been on Courtney’s brand-new Facebook page, which had already amassed 10,200 new friends from around the world.

There was a chime, and Hanna’s iPhone lit up inside her bag. She pulled it out. One new e-mail, said the screen. The note was from her mom. Hanna rarely heard from her—Ms. Marin ran the Singapore division of McManus & Tate, an ad agency, and she was more in love with her career than her only daughter. Hey, Han, it began. I’ve been offered six tickets to the Diane von Furstenberg fashion show in NYC Thursday, but I obviously can’t use them. Would you like to go instead? I’ve attached them via PDF.

Hanna read the message a few times over, her fingers twitching. Six tickets!

She stood up, checked her reflection in the mirror, and whipped out into the hall. When Hanna pounded on Kate’s door, the giggles instantly ceased. After some heated whispers, Kate flung open the door. Naomi, Riley, and Courtney were sitting on the floor by Kate’s bed, dressed in jeans and oversize cashmere sweaters. Bottles of foundation and trays of eye shadow were strewn across the carpet, and there was the usual array of Vogues, old Rosewood Day yearbooks, and smartphones jumbled at their feet. Four small tumblers and a bottle of Gosling’s rum sat between them. Mr. Marin had brought the rum back from a recent business trip to Bermuda. Even if Hanna ratted Kate out for swiping it, her dad would probably somehow figure out a way to blame Hanna instead.

Riley’s forehead wrinkled. “What do you want, Psycho?”

“Would you mind keeping it down?” Hanna cooed sweetly. “I need to make a phone call about some fashion week tickets I got from my mom, and I can hear your voices all the way down the hall.”

It took a few seconds for the news to sink in. “What?” Kate squeaked, curling her lip.

Naomi tossed her head. “Fashion week? Right.”

“Just turn the music down for a few,” Hanna said. “I don’t want Diane von Furstenberg’s people to think I’m a silly high school girl.” She waggled her fingers and ducked out the door. “Thanks much!”

“Wait.” Kate grabbed Hanna’s arm. “The Diane von Furstenberg?”

“You have to be someone to have tickets to that,” Riley snapped, her nostrils flaring. She had the tiniest beginning of a booger up her nose. “They don’t let psychos in.”

“My mom got six tickets,” Hanna said nonchalantly, swiveling on her heel. “She gets stuff like that through her job all the time. But since she’s in Singapore, she gave them to me.”

She whipped out her iPhone, opened the PDF, and shoved it in Kate’s face. Everyone else sprang up and squinted at the screen. Naomi licked her lips hungrily. Riley shot Hanna her version of a genuine smile, which looked more like a grimace. Courtney lingered in the background, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The other girls turned to her in deference, as if she were Anna Wintour and they were Assistants One through Three.

“Sweet,” Courtney declared in a voice identical to Ali’s.

Naomi clapped her palms together. “You’re obviously bringing your besties, right?”

“Of course she’s taking us,” Riley said, linking her arm with Hanna’s.

“Yeah, Hanna, you know that Psycho stuff was a joke, right?” Kate simpered. “And you should totally hang out with us tonight. We were going to ask you, but we didn’t know where you were.”

Hanna unwound her arm from Riley’s. She had to play this very, very carefully. If she gave them what they wanted too quickly, she’d look like a pushover. “I’ll have to think it over,” she said apathetically.

Naomi let out a whine. “Come on, Hanna. You have to take us. We’ll do anything.”

“We’ll take down that Facebook page,” Riley blurted.

“We’ll clean Psycho off your locker,” Naomi said at the exact same time.

Kate nudged both of them, obviously not wanting them to admit they’d been behind those things. “Fine,” she grumbled. “From now on, you’re no longer Psycho.”

“Oh, okay. Whatever,” Hanna said lightly. She started to head for the door.

“Wait!” Naomi screeched, pulling Hanna back down by the sleeve of her blazer. “Are you taking us or not?”

“Mmmm…” Hanna pretended to think. “Okay. I guess.”

“Yes.” Naomi and Riley high-fived. Kate looked appeased. Courtney gazed at them as if she thought this was all very petty. They made arrangements to meet Thursday after school at Hanna’s car, when they’d drive to the Amtrak station. And where would they get dinner after the show? The Waverly Inn? Soho House?

Hanna left them to their planning and ducked into the hall bathroom, closing the door tight. She leaned over the sink, nearly knocking over Kate’s myriad bottles of cleansers, toners, and mud masks, and smiled at her reflection. She’d done it. For the first time in weeks, she felt like herself again.

When she opened the bathroom door a few minutes later, a figure jerked out of sight. Hanna halted, her heart jumping to her throat. “Hello?” she whispered weakly.

There was a rustling sound. Then Courtney stepped into the light. Her eyes were round, and there was a ghostly smile on her lips.

“Uh, hi?” The hairs on Hanna’s arms stood on end.

“Hey,” Courtney said. She walked up to Hanna, stopping inches from her face. The hallway seemed even darker than it had moments before. Courtney was so close that Hanna could smell her rum-scented breath.

“Um, I heard you knew Iris.” Courtney tucked a strand of pale blond hair behind her ear.

Hanna’s stomach did a flip. “Uh, yeah.”

Courtney put her hand on Hanna’s arm. Her fingers were ice-cold. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “She was out of her mind. I’m glad you got away from her, too.”

Then Courtney slid back into the shadows. Her bare feet made no sound on the plush carpet. The only way Hanna could tell she was still there was by the glowing ticking hands on her Juicy Couture wristwatch. Hanna watched the eerie green glow glide down the hall until it vanished, ghostlike, into Kate’s room.