“Nothing,” Hanna said, not meeting Ali’s gaze. Then she looked down at the Doberman coffee mug in her hands, her expression a twist of pain and sadness. Her father used to use that cup, but Mr. Marin had moved out months ago.
“Did you talk to Aria?” Ali asked.
“No . . .” Hanna’s head whipped up. “Why? Is something going on with her?”
Ali ran her tongue over her teeth. All she could think about since it had happened was what she’d seen Aria’s dad doing in Hollis. Did Aria know? Was that why she was acting so strange lately? She hadn’t told Ali what was going on, but what if she’d told one of the others? Hanna would be a good choice—her parents had divorced last year.
But Hanna looked genuinely caught off guard, so Ali figured Aria hadn’t told her. Maybe she shouldn’t say anything. It was one thing for Ali to talk about an open secret behind Aria’s back, but maybe it was another to tell Hanna something she didn’t already know. Besides, it made Ali feel powerful to know something so awful about Aria’s family.
“Um, forget it,” Ali mumbled. “But you’re obviously not okay. What’s going on?”
Hanna slumped down in a chair at the dining room table. The place settings had been shoved aside, and her history book was splayed open to the chapter they were being tested on tomorrow. She let out a tortured sigh. “My dad sent me vacation photos of him, Kate, and Isabel on spring break.”
Ali blinked, waiting for Hanna to go on. Isabel was her father’s new girlfriend, and Kate was her pretty daughter. Ali had met them both in Annapolis.
She was about to ask Hanna what the big deal was, but suddenly, she remembered she was being the New Ali, the girl who killed her friends with kindness. Kate was definitely a sore spot for Hanna. Although Hanna rarely mentioned it, Mr. Marin had left for Annapolis and given Hanna’s mom custody of their daughter. It was surprising because Hanna and her dad always used to be such a team before he left. They’d sing Beatles songs in the front seat during carpools, trying to get the other girls to join in. No matter how many times Ali told Hanna she was being babyish, they still brought up some imaginary friend named Cornelius Maximilian at dinner. And one time, when Hanna’s dad had taken Hanna and Ali to the beach for the day, it seemed like Hanna wanted to hang out with him instead of sneaking off to the boardwalk with Ali to talk to boys. Weirdo.
Mr. Marin was so different from Ali’s own dad, who put on a suit every day and went to work and talked to his family during meals but otherwise retreated to his office. Even though Ali would never, ever tell Hanna so, she’d felt a little relieved when Hanna’s dad took off. Hanna no longer had that special, sparkly thing in her life that Ali secretly, deep down, envied.
Now Hanna was worried that Kate had taken her place. Ali had offered to come with her to Annapolis, promising that they’d outclass Kate and make her feel small and stupid. The only thing was, once they’d gotten there, something in Ali had shifted. Kate seemed sort of . . . nice, a lot like her, in fact. Maybe Hanna needed to suck it up. But instead, Hanna ate it up—all the party snacks Isabel had put out for them, that was. Ali had never seen her shovel food in so compulsively, yet Hanna had seemed surprised when her father called her a “little piggy.” When Ali had followed Hanna to the bathroom and pushed open the door, she’d found Hanna hunched over the toilet bowl, a green toothbrush in her hand. Hanna had begged Ali not to tell anyone, and so far, Ali hadn’t.
She touched Hanna’s hand. “It really hurts to see all of them on vacation together, huh?”
A look of shock passed over Hanna’s features, followed by gratitude. “Sort of,” she breathed. “And, I mean, you’ve seen Kate.”
Ali nodded. “She was really nice, though, Han.”
Hanna looked pained. “Maybe she was, I don’t know. But Kate’s wearing one of those bikinis that goes up her butt. It’s not like my dad would let me wear one of those.”
It’s not like you’d look good in one of those, either, Ali thought, but she didn’t dare say it. Kate was thin, the kind of girl who could expose a bit of butt cheek and drive boys wild. While Hanna wasn’t fat, she wasn’t the type of girl who could pluck a pair of jeans off the rack and buy them without trying them on. And she was painfully aware of it, too—always pinching the excess flesh on her belly, always looking around at the other girls in the locker room enviously, always the last to pull off her shirt at the country club or on the beach.
Ali’s gaze drifted to the food detritus on the coffee table. “Bingeing isn’t the answer, Han.”
Hanna shook her head vigorously. “No. I only did that once, Ali. I swear. Some of this was left over from my mom last night.”
Ali crossed her arms over her chest. It was such a lie—Hanna’s mom was stick-thin, did yoga religiously, and ate a macrobiotic diet. “You can tell me, Han. You’ve gone through a lot lately. Cassie was telling me about a friend who binged—she did it to regain control.”