She really, really didn’t want Naomi to be New A, especially because of how they’d bonded at the party. Things had felt so natural between them, like they were long-lost friends. And what about all that stuff Naomi had said about exercise bingeing? Had she made that up simply to gain Hanna’s trust, so she could carry out her diabolical plans?
It did make sense that Naomi was A, though—at least one of the As. She could have effortlessly eavesdropped on so many secrets, what with her fast friendship with Kate. And she could have trailed Hanna to the photo session with skeevy Patrick, who had wanted to post her slightly inappropriate pictures online. Naomi had been at the flash mob when Hanna met Liam Wilkinson, her father’s rival’s son—she could have spotted them making out in the alley. Gathering dirt on Hanna’s little Colleen-stalking mission would have been a piece of cake, too.
And she had plenty of motive. How many dirty looks had Naomi and Riley given Hanna and the other girls after Ali invited them into her brand-new clique? How many times had Naomi tried to take Hanna down—and failed? Okay, so Jamaica didn’t really make sense—but maybe she was working with someone else, someone who’d recruited her onto the A-Team once Madison died. If Naomi knew Hanna had been the driver, had potentially hurt Madison while moving her, and then had abandoned her—well, that would push anyone to seek revenge.
It wasn’t like Hanna had meant to crash the car, though. She’d actually thought she was being a good Samaritan for driving Madison home. At the end of the night, it was clear Madison was in no state to drive—she had been slurring her words and practically falling asleep on the bar. Hanna had looked at Jackson, the bartender. “Do you have numbers for cabs?”
Jackson propped his elbows on the counter and chuckled, as though this were a frat party. “Yeah, she’s pretty wasted, huh?”
“No cabs!” Madison crowed. “I’m fine!” She twirled the key ring around her finger, but it flew off and skidded under a video poker machine. When she bent down on her hands and knees to retrieve it, the whole bar got a view of her pink thong.
“That’s it,” Hanna had said, slapping down a twenty to cover Madison’s bill. She gathered Madison’s purse from under the stool and yanked the girl to her feet. “I’m driving you home, okay? Where do you live?”
“I can drive, Olivia,” Madison whined, using the fake name Hanna had given her. “I’m serfectly pober! I mean perfectly bober! I mean …”
And that was when she turned green, bent at the waist, and puked on her Coach flats. Patrons backed away, looking disgusted. Jackson wrinkled his nose. “Come on,” Hanna said, dragging Madison out the door before she could vomit again. She felt a tiny spiral of worry as she took Madison’s keys—she’d had a drink, too. But it was hours ago, and she’d nursed it. She’d drive a few miles under the speed limit to make sure no cops would stop her.
Now a bunch of girls rushed to the side of the ship, pulling Hanna from her thoughts. “Are those dolphins?” someone cried.
Mike rose to see, but Hanna remained in her seat, her thoughts still churning. It seemed so unlikely that Naomi could have found out she was the driver that night—not unless Madison woke up and remembered, which would have been impossible if she’d died. Had she seen the crash happen from her new house, taking in everything through the trees? But that didn’t make sense, either—if she’d watched, surely she’d seen that car come out of nowhere and run Hanna off the road.
“There you are!”
Hanna looked up. Naomi stood above her, dressed in a green Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress and raffia sandals. She held a glass of grapefruit juice in her hand and smelled, as usual, of Kate Spade Twirl.
“I just heard the best gossip about that Erin Bang Bang girl,” Naomi said conspiratorially.
Hanna blinked, unnerved by Naomi’s approach. “What was it?”
Naomi plopped down in Mike’s seat. “Apparently, someone heard her talking on the phone with her mom. And get this—she was pretending like she was a complete angel, saying how she was praying every morning, spending a lot of time with her classmates, and avoiding parties and boys. Can you believe it?”
Hanna eyed Naomi carefully. Her eyes were twinkling, and she had a sweet smile on her face. She seemed so harmless, not like a malicious killer. But this was probably part of her plan as A. Still, Hanna thought about the strategy Spencer had suggested to earn Naomi’s trust and figure out if she was A. She could fake-friend her. All of a sudden, it seemed feasible. Maybe Hanna could even figure out if Naomi really knew about the accident with Madison, too.
She cracked a tiny smile. “If only we could post Erin’s dalliances in a place where Mama Bang Bang would see.”
“Seriously.” Naomi chuckled, taking the bait.
Hanna laid down her napkin. “I saw a sign that it’s Karaoke Night tonight. Want to go?”
Naomi raised an eyebrow. “Only if you’ll sing a duet with me. I hate doing karaoke alone.”
“You got it!”