And she had, of course. Everyone already knew her and bowed down to her. Oh, there had been challenges on the first day: getting lost on her way to gym, confusing Devon Arliss and Dara Artz—luckily they were just thrilled she was speaking to them at all—and flirting with Andrew Campbell, only to realize he was one of the nerdiest kids in school. A few people had given her strange looks when she’d sat down inside the cafeteria—apparently all the cool kids sat outside—but she’d played most things off with panache and ease. The very next day, though, she carried around her sister’s old diary, which she’d begun writing in herself, as a cheat sheet to Ali’s life.
Jason swung past the lower and middle schools and headed for the parking lot at the back, where all the upperclassmen parked. People spilled out of cars and talked boisterously. Ali bolted out the door as soon as Jason rolled into a space, and looked around for Cassie and her other hockey teammates. But then she spied someone else. Hanna stood at the far end of the parking lot with a tall, thin, dark-haired girl she didn’t recognize.
“Ali!” Hanna waved her hands above her head. “Over here!”
Ali strutted over, squinting at the girl. She was pretty—really pretty—and looked like she was at least a freshman. She was carrying an emerald-green fringe bag with a Marc Jacobs logo on the clasp. Ali wanted to think it was a knockoff, but it looked way too nice.
“Ali, this is Josie.” There were two bright pink spots on Hanna’s cheeks. “And Josie, this is Alison DiLaurentis.”
“Nice to meet you.” Josie stuck out her hand to shake. Her nails were painted a dove gray Ali had never seen before. She didn’t even know gray was a popular color, but it looked utterly chic. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Everyone has,” Ali said primly. “But I’ve heard nothing about you.”
“Josie’s family just moved here from Los Angeles,” Hanna butted in.
“It’s so lame that they decided to move in May.” Josie rolled her eyes. “Couldn’t they have waited until summer? I wasn’t even able to go to my ninth-grade dance, and the hottest guy had asked me. And I had a friend who had tickets to the Teen Choice Awards, so I couldn’t go to that, either.”
“Oh my God, I would love to go to the Teen Choice Awards!” Hanna breathed.
Ali’s head was spinning. Los Angeles? Ninth-grade dance? Teen Choice Awards? She leaned on the back bumper of someone’s VW Beetle. “And you know Hanna how?”
Hanna brightened. “I met her yesterday at Otter.”
“What’s that?” Ali asked. “A pet store?”
Small, almost pitying smiles appeared on both Hanna’s and Josie’s faces. “Otter is the new boutique at the mall,” Josie said. “My dad owns it. I’m working there after school a few days a week.”
“It’s the best store, Ali,” Hanna gushed. “People from the Sentinel’s style section were even there when I went in. They said they might do a write-up!”
“We’re having an opening-week sale—you should stop by,” Josie said, stepping out of the way as a battered Volvo gunned its way up the lot. Then she nudged Hanna. “Remember that fight those girls got into over that pair of Citizens jeans?”
Hanna looked at Ali. “You would have loved it. These two girls spotted a pair of skinnies they both wanted at the same time and got into a fight in the dressing area.”
“That’s how amazing the jeans were,” Josie added.
Ali cleared her throat. “And how did you find out about this store, Hanna?”
“I read about it online.” Hanna suddenly looked panicked. “I thought you knew about it, Ali. I would have said something.”
“Since when do you go to the King James alone?” Ali said in a voice that might sound to anyone else like teasing but she knew would put Hanna on edge. “I thought we always texted each other if we were going.” She didn’t bother to bring up that she had been at the King James yesterday, too. But that didn’t count—she’d been with her parents.
“She wasn’t there for very long,” Josie said cautiously, giving Ali a strange look.
“It’s a personal, best-friends thing,” Ali said tightly. Then she looked at Hanna again. This whole situation was wrong. Since when was Hanna receiving invites to boutique openings and not telling her about them? And since when was a pretty, older girl from Los Angeles choosing Hanna as her newest bestie? Okay, so Hanna was wearing a pretty silk blouse Ali had never seen before, and she always knew what to do with jewelry—today she had a bunch of silver bangles on her left arm. But she also had pink and purple rubber bands in her braces. There was a pimple on her forehead and another one forming on her chin. Her Rosewood Day blazer, which had fit at the beginning of this year, pulled at the chest and didn’t quite button at the waist. She’d still be a dork if Ali hadn’t scooped her up and given her a popular-girl home. More than that, she was Ali’s dork, and Ali didn’t want to share her.
Ali sniffed the air. “Um, Hanna?” She glanced down at Hanna’s banana-yellow Marc Jacobs wedges. “I think you have dog poop on your shoe.”
Hanna paled. “Oh my God.” She scuttled over to the curb and furiously scraped her heel against the concrete.
Ali gave Josie an apologetic look. “We just can’t take Hanna anywhere. One time, when we were in Philly together, she literally fell off the curb into a mud puddle!”