Toxic

25 FAME DOES FUNNY THINGS TO A GIRL. . . .

On Friday afternoon, Hanna sat in her trailer on the movie set, taking deep breath after deep breath. Her phone buzzed. MIKE, said the caller ID. When she answered, Mike sounded happy and relaxed.

“The Amtrak café worker let me order a beer!” he whispered on the staticky line.

Hanna giggled. “So you’re going to be drunk for the party tonight, huh?” He had boarded a train from soccer camp and was due in Rosewood shortly after four, which gave him enough time to get ready for the Rosewood Rallies fund-raiser.

“Nah, only buzzed.” Mike sighed wistfully. “I can’t wait to see you, Han. What are you doing right now? Primping? Getting beautiful?”

Hanna stared at her silver dress, which hung in dry cleaner’s plastic on a hook on the closet door. She’d picked it up just before coming to the set, but she wasn’t quite ready to put it on yet. “Um, I’m about to start getting ready,” she said, feeling too jittery and superstitious to tell Mike about what she was really about to do. “I’ll call you in a little bit, okay?” She made a kissing sound and hung up.

Then she stared at herself in the mirror, pushing her auburn hair behind her shoulders. “You can talk to Hank,” Hanna whispered to her reflection. “You deserve to be the next Hanna.”

Shortly after Jared put the bug in her ear about taking over Hailey’s role, Hanna had crept up the stairs to Hailey’s dressing room and knocked lightly on the door. Hailey had let her in, and she’d immediately started railing about what a stupid movie Burn It Down was. “The plot is dumb,” she said, tossing her possessions into a bunch of cardboard boxes she’d dragged out of the small closet. “The characters are dumb. It won’t go anywhere at the box office.” She peeked at Hanna. “No offense.”

Hanna had shrugged, letting the comment roll off her back. “Well, maybe it’s a good thing this happened, then,” she’d tried. “You seemed really unhappy.”

Hailey nodded vehemently. “Damn right,” she said. “I was miserable. This the best career move in a while. I’m so happy this is done.”

“And you’ll find something else,” Hanna added.

“Naturally!” Hailey crowed, raising a fist in the air. “I’m just sorry I’m leaving you behind, sweetie.” Then she told Hanna that she was going to get on the phone with her manager the very next day and have him arrange to fly Hanna out to LA for a visit as soon as possible. “We are going to have so much fun,” Hailey whooped, tossing a bunch of dresses into an open suitcase. “The clubs in LA are a zillion times better than the lame-ass ones in New York. And the shopping? To die for!”

Hanna had left Hailey’s dressing room with a sense of accomplishment. Hailey was out—and was happy to be out. Chances were, she’d have a new film offer by tomorrow.

And Hanna? Well, maybe, just maybe, she could be in. She just had to ask Hank first.

But before she could move, her phone buzzed again. This time, Emily was calling. Hanna hit the green ANSWER button and cleared her throat. “What’s going on?”

Emily took a shaky breath. “Jordan’s murderer is dead.”

Hanna frowned. “Is that good?”

“Of course it’s not good!” Emily screeched. “Hanna, Ali killed her! She recruits these crazy minions to work for her, and then she disposes of them like Kleenexes!”

Hanna chewed on her thumbnail. Every time she heard Emily’s twitchy, unhinged tone lately, her stomach hurt a little bit worse. “Are you sure Ali did it?” she asked tentatively. “Is there any evidence?”

Emily sighed. “That would be too easy. You just don’t understand.” With a groan, she hung up.

Hanna stared at her phone. Then she dialed Emily’s number again, but it rang and rang and rang. Was Emily actually mad at her? Should Hanna have just agreed without asking questions? Thank goodness Emily had already agreed to go to the Rosewood Rallies tonight—at least there they could keep an eye on her.

Then she glanced at herself in the mirror once more, trying her best to push her worry aside. Rolling her shoulders, she stepped out of the trailer, teetered down the steps in her high, strappy sandals, and walked into an adjacent trailer that served as Hank’s office—Hanna had chosen to visit him that afternoon because she knew they had a break in shooting and he wouldn’t be busy.

She took another deep breath and knocked on the door. There was a cough, and Hank opened it, the smell of cigarette smoke swirling out of the small, cramped space. “Hanna!” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Come in, come in.”

Hanna climbed the steps and walked into his trailer, which had a desk, an expensive-looking leather couch, and a bunch of framed awards and accolades on the walls. Hank’s computer was humming, and the latest script was on the screen. Papers littered his desk along with what looked like union forms, a collection of Starbucks paper cups, and several black-and-white head shots of pretty girls about Hanna’s age. Several of them Hanna recognized from other TV shows and movies. She knew why Hank was looking at them: He was trying to find a new Hanna.

“So.” Hank sat down in his chair and placed his hands on his thighs. “What can I do for you?”

Hanna averted her gaze from the head shots, trying not to feel unnerved by how professional they all looked—she didn’t even have a head shot. “I’d like to take Hailey’s place as Hanna. I want to play myself in the movie.”

For a moment, Hank’s face was blank, and Hanna wondered if she’d made a total mistake. She was an amateur, a silly girl they’d probably only brought in because it was a fun publicity stunt. Those head-shot girls were the real actresses. But then Hank leaned back in his chair. “Interesting.”

Hanna heard herself say the lines she’d rehearsed all morning. “We haven’t shot many Naomi scenes yet, so if you recast someone as her, you wouldn’t have lost much time. And I know I’m pretty green at all this, but I’ll work really hard, and I won’t give you the trouble Hailey did. I know the part because of running lines with Hailey, I’ve heard all your notes for her, and I think I know what sort of character you’re looking for. Plus, I’m way cheaper than those girls.” She gestured to the head shots, which she hoped wasn’t presumptive. “I just want the chance.”

Hank crossed his arms over his chest, looking both uncertain and kind of impressed. He didn’t say anything for a few beats, chewing thoughtfully on his thumbnail. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. You’ve convinced me. Let’s give it a shot.”

Hanna’s jaw dropped. “Really?” She hadn’t actually expected her pleas to work.

Hank nodded. “But if it doesn’t work out, you’re back to playing Naomi.” He stood and shook her hand. “Congratulations. I’ll have our legal team put together the paperwork.”

“You won’t regret it!” Hanna blubbered, pumping his hand up and down. She backed out of the trailer, blathering again about how this was an amazing opportunity and how she was going to work really, really hard. As Hank shut the door on her, a huge smile spread across her face, and she let out a high-pitched, happy squeal. “Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“I can’t believe you.”

Hanna whirled around, nearly stumbling down the trailer steps. Hailey stood in front of her, a gray duffel over her shoulder. She was staring at Hanna with a betrayed look on her face, as if she’d just heard the whole conversation between Hanna and Hank.

Before Hanna could say a word, Hailey marched up to her. “How dare you walk over me like this?” she growled.

Hanna blinked hard. “You quit!” she squeaked. “And you said you were miserable!”

Hailey’s nostrils flared. “You convinced me I was doing the right thing.”

Hanna’s mouth opened, then closed. “But . . .”

Hailey held her hand up to stop her. “But nothing,” she hissed. Her eyes were hard and cold. “You’re a bitch and a liar, Hanna. I asked you how I was doing time and again, and you lied and lied and lied. ‘You’re great, Hailey.’ ‘Good job, Hailey.’” She wagged her finger in Hanna’s face. “I’m going to hurt you. Mark my words.”

And then she spun around, heading back to her rental SUV, a huge Escalade she often complained about driving around Rosewood’s windy back roads. “Hailey!” Hanna called out weakly. But, to no surprise, the girl ignored her, throwing herself into the front seat, gunning the engine, and pulling out of the lot as fast as she could.

A few hours later, Hanna stood at the Rosewood Amtrak station, glancing again and again at her phone. So far, she’d sent Hailey twelve texts, but Hailey hadn’t replied to any of them. I made a mistake. And, I’m sorry. And, I’ll back out of the role, just say the word. She’d reached out to Jared, too, hoping he’d tell her Hailey sometimes got like this and would calm down in a few days, but he hadn’t replied, either. It wasn’t fair: The most wonderful thing had happened. She should be completely happy. Instead, she felt antsy and uneasy, with a gnawing pain in her stomach.

At least Mike was due any minute; he’d celebrate with her. I’ve got a surprise for you, Hanna had texted him, though she hadn’t told him what it was. She paced up and down the platform, checking her watch again and again. Though it was just a little after four, with hours of daylight left, the spooky, empty station left her feeling uneasy. Something metal clanged on the stairs, just out of view. She whipped around. Ali? There was another clang, followed by a long sigh. Her skin prickled. She waited, terrified by who might appear around the corner. But no one came.

A shrill whistle blew. The train puffed into the station, and Hanna waited excitedly as all of the passengers disembarked. Mike brought up the rear, shouldering the Jack Spade bag she’d bought him last Christmas. Hanna let out a squeal and waved for him, but when Mike looked up at her, his eyes were dead. He walked toward her, and then past her, heading up the stairs.

“Uh, hello?” Hanna said, scampering behind him. “How many beers did they give you on the train? Are you so drunk you forgot what your girlfriend looks like?”

Mike reached the top of the stairs, but instead of heading for Hanna’s car, he walked toward the auxiliary lot. “Where are you going?” Hanna demanded, suddenly feeling nervous.

“My dad’s picking me up,” Mike said in monotone.

“Mike.” Hanna grabbed his sleeve. “I have a car here. What’s going on?”

Mike glared at her coldly. His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he’d been crying. Hanna’s heart started to beat hard. Finally, he shoved his phone at her. “Is this your surprise?”

Hanna stared at the screen. It was the mobile site for TMZ. BURN IT DOWN COSTARS COZYING UP! read the headline in garish red lettering. And there, just below, was a picture of Hanna and Jared—kissing at the nightclub in New York.

Hanna could feel the blood draining from her face. “H-he kissed me for one second,” she blurted. “And then Hailey snapped a picture before I pulled away.”

Mike snorted. “Yeah, right.” He grabbed the phone back. “Then why does the article say you kissed him? You would do anything for the attention of a big movie star, even cheat on your boyfriend?”

“Mike, no!”

She reached for him, but he ducked away. “A guy on my floor sent me the link when I was only fifteen minutes away from here. ‘Hey, your girlfriend’s hooking up with some other guy.’ Some of the comments even said you submitted this yourself.”

“Of course I didn’t!” Hanna roared.

“So who did?”

Hanna blinked hard. All at once, it came to her. I’m going to hurt you, Hailey had said. It made perfect sense.

She lowered her eyes. If she hadn’t been so ambitious, if she hadn’t wanted to be a star so badly, none of this would have ever happened. She couldn’t even blame any of this on Ali. She’d brought all this on herself.

“Mike, I’m sorry,” she murmured, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks. “Please, let me explain.”

Mike hitched his bag higher on his shoulder. “I have to go,” he muttered, heading toward the auxiliary lot. For the second time that day, Hanna watched as someone she cared about walked away from her in angry silence.