Stunning

7 HANNA GETS STEAMED

The following night, Hanna stood outside the boys’ locker room, tugging down the curve-hugging dress she’d changed into after the final bell. All around her, students bustled to catch their after-school buses, rushed to activities, or climbed in their cars to head to the King James Mall.

Hanna’s cell phone beeped, and she quickly turned down the volume. It was yet another message from Isabel, reminding Hanna to be at her father’s town hall meeting that night a little early to meet and greet some of the donors. Duh—as if she didn’t already know that. She’d helped organize the whole thing. And she’d get there when she got there. The task at hand was the only thing on her mind right now.

The aromas of dirty socks and Axe body spray wafted into the hall. Muffled voices and hissing shower sounds echoed. It just so happened that the boys’ indoor track team had come in from a grueling workout of wind sprints around the iced-over parking lot. It also just so happened that Mike was on the indoor track team to keep in shape for lacrosse. Operation Get Mike Back was about to begin.

The blue door swished open, and two sophomores in track jackets emerged, giving Hanna strange looks as they passed. She glared at them in return, then edged toward the door again.

“It was genius of the gym to introduce a pole-dancing class,” Mason Byers’s telltale gravelly baritone rang out. “Have you seen the girls that take it?”

“Dude, don’t even get me started,” James Freed answered. “I didn’t even work out the last time I was there—I just watched them the whole time.”

“That girl Mike’s dating takes it,” Mason said.

Hanna frowned. Colleen was pole dancing now? For an eighth grade talent show, Colleen had dressed in a Latvian costume and danced her ancestors’ native steps. Hanna and Mona had made fun of her for months afterward.

“I know.” James made a weird boy grunt. “No wonder he’s doing her.” He snickered. “Did you know Bebris means beaver in Latvian?”

Wait. The guys didn’t just say Mike was doing her, did they? Hanna felt a hurt twinge. She and Mike hadn’t done it, and they’d dated for over a year.

Two more guys emerged from the locker room, and Hanna peeked inside. James and Mason were nowhere to be seen, but Mike was at his locker. He was standing in his boxers, his black hair wet and matted against his head, little water droplets on his broad shoulders. Had he always been that muscled?

Hanna rolled back her shoulders. Go time. She sauntered into the steamy room. She’d never been inside the boys’ locker room before and was disappointed to find that it didn’t look all that different from the girls’, aside from the jockstrap lying on the floor in one of the aisles. The room smelled like talc and sweaty socks, and the trash can was overflowing with empty Gatorade bottles.

She tiptoed across the gray tiled floor until she was only a few feet away from Mike. On his back was the crescent moon–shaped scar he’d gotten from falling off his bike when he was little. They’d shown each other all their scars one afternoon at Hanna’s house, stripping down to their underwear but not going any further. In some ways, Hanna had been too afraid to have sex with Mike—she’d never slept with anyone before, and it seemed like such a big deal with him. And despite how Mike was always talking about how sex-crazed he was, Hanna had wondered if he had been a little afraid, too.

Hanna reached out and clapped her hands over Mike’s eyes. “Boo.”

Mike jumped, but then relaxed. “Heeeyy,” he said, drawing out the word. “What are you doing in here?”

Instead of saying anything, Hanna began to pepper the back of Mike’s neck with little kisses. Mike leaned into her, his bare skin warm against her tight dress. He reached back and raked his fingers through Hanna’s long ringlets. Suddenly, he whipped around, opened his eyes, and stared.

“Hanna!” Mike grabbed the towel from the bench and covered his bare torso. “What the hell?”

Hanna grabbed for the rope necklace Mike had worn ever since his family returned from Iceland and yanked him closer. “Don’t be shy. Just go with this. Isn’t this one of your sex fantasies?”

Mike stepped away from her, his eyes bulging. “Have you lost your mind?” He wasn’t checking out Hanna’s skintight dress or the super-high-heeled shoes that made her ankles ache. Instead, he was glaring at her like she was being wildly inappropriate. “You need to go.”

Hanna stiffened. “You seemed into it just a few seconds ago.”

“That’s because I thought you were someone else.” Mike pulled a T-shirt over his head and stepped into his pants.

Hanna leaned against the lockers, not budging. “Look, Mike, I want you back, okay? Things are over with me and my boyfriend. I know you want me back, too. So stop acting like an idiot and kiss me already!”

She punctuated this with a little laugh so that she didn’t sound complete pushy, but Mike just stared at her blankly. “You heard me at the mall the other night—I have a girlfriend now.”

Hanna rolled her eyes. “Colleen? Please. Don’t you remember how she had her head flushed in the Old Faithful toilet four times in sixth grade? And Mike, she’s a drama geek. You’re totally bringing down your popularity quotient by dating her.”

Mike crossed his arms over his chest. “Actually, Colleen has an agent for her drama stuff. She’s been on auditions for some big stuff on TV. And I don’t care about popularity.”

Yeah, right. “Is she easy or something?” Hanna was surprised by how bitter she sounded.

Mike’s face hardened. “I like her, Hanna.”

He stared at her unflinchingly, and the clouds in Hanna’s head began to lift. Mike wasn’t going out—and sleeping—with Colleen because she was willing, but because he cared about her.

Someone snickered from near the sinks, and Hanna spied James and Mason hiding behind the wall, hanging on every word. She wrapped her arms around her body, suddenly feeling exposed. They were laughing at her. Dorky Hanna, throwing herself at her ex. Dorky Hanna, making an idiot out of herself. She might as well have been fat again, with poop-brown hair and braces on her teeth. The ultimate chubby, ugly loser who nobody loved.

Without another word, she whipped around and marched out of the locker room, not even stopping when her ankle twisted beneath her. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, she silently repeated over and over. There was no way she had been beaten by someone as milquetoast as Colleen.

She slammed the locker room door hard and emerged into the silent hall. Suddenly, a new laugh rang through the corridor, high-pitched and even more sinister than the boys’. Hanna froze and listened. Was she crazy, or did that sound like Ali’s laugh? She cocked her head to the side, waiting. But just like that, the sound disappeared.