“Glad you like them.” Edith pushed another cookie toward her. “Have another. You’re much too skinny.”
Edith had said Hanna was too skinny even when Hanna was a chunky, ugly loser, but it still felt good to hear it. The sugar soothed her. A third cookie might even make her feel euphoric. You shouldn’t, a voice said inside her head. You had all that popcorn at Lucas’s. You’re wearing your fat jeans, and even they feel tight.
But the cookies smelled so good. Hanna glanced up and saw Kate beaming at another one of her father’s work colleagues, and something inside her broke open. Don’t, she willed, but her hands seemed to move of their own volition, wrapping up six cookies in a napkin. Her legs had a mind of their own too, pressing up from the seat and weaving around the partygoers. Hanna got as far as the empty stairwell before she opened the napkin and started pushing the cookies in her mouth one by one. She chewed and swallowed with desperation. Crumbs fell on her chest. Chocolate was all over her fingers and mouth. It was like there was something inside her that told her she could only stop when she finished each and every one—only then would she be filled.
This was exactly what had happened the first time she’d met Kate and Isabel in Annapolis: She’d felt so nervous and awkward that the only thing that soothed her was eating copious amounts of food. Kate and Ali, who Hanna had brought along, had gaped at her like she wasn’t human. And when Hanna had doubled over, her stomach aching, Mr. Marin had joked, Did little piggy eat too much?
It had been the first time Hanna had ever made herself throw up—and it wasn’t the last. Over the years she’d worked hard to stop, but sometimes old habits were hard to break.
A high-pitched giggle pealed from the hall, and Hanna shot up straight. It sounded like Ali. When she looked out the front window, she swore she saw someone moving around in the bushes.
Hanna peered into the darkness. Then, she felt eyes on her back and turned. Her father and Kate were staring at her from the kitchen.
Their eyes flicked from Hanna’s chocolate-smeared mouth to the crumbs on her chest to the cookies in her hands. Kate smirked. Mr. Marin’s brow furrowed. Eventually, he lifted his hand to his face and made a sweeping motion at his lips. Hanna brushed off a chocolate chip stuck to her cheek. Kate turned away and covered her mouth, suppressing a giggle.
The remaining cookies tumbled from her hand onto the floor. Face burning, Hanna fled upstairs and slammed her bedroom door, giving the middle finger to the loud hoots of the partygoers and the booming Bing Crosby Christmas carol on the stereo. She’d had just about enough Christmas partying for a lifetime.
Chapter 4
You’ll Never Work in This Mall Again
Tuesday after school, Hanna pushed through double doors that said WELCOME TO THE GRAND OPENING OF THE DEVON CREST MALL! on the glass. She entered a large atrium and breathed in. The air smelled like a mix of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Starbucks coffee, and a mélange of perfumes. A large fountain burbled, and well-dressed girls carrying shopping bags from Tiffany & Co., Tory Burch, and Cole Haan pranced past. It was similar to the King James Mall, Hanna’s regular haunt, but just different enough so that it didn’t evoke a single memory of her many shopping trips there with Mona.
Just being surrounded by retail made Hanna feel better. She should have visited the mall earlier, but she hadn’t had the time. Yesterday, as part of the Twelve Days of Christmas extravaganza, she’d gone with her father, Isabel, and Kate to a performance of Handel’s Messiah in Villanova—snore. The day before that, they’d attended an eggnog-tasting at the local Williams-Sonoma, and to Hanna’s chagrin, she and Kate were only allowed to drink the nonalcoholic eggnog, which tasted like rancid nondairy creamer. They had plans to go to a department store in Philly to see some kind of lameass light display tonight, but the department store had been closed because it was infested with bedbugs. Huge loss.
Now, Hanna passed a seating area with a small café that sold 208 different kinds of tea, and a gluten-free bakery. She pulled out her phone to check once more if Lucas had called or texted, but there wasn’t a single email, voicemail, or tweet. He’d left two days ago and had already forgotten his promise to check in daily.
Whatever. She could trust Lucas. Right? Hanna thrust her chin into the air, trying to remain calm, and stopped to look at the mall directory. It had an Otter, her favorite boutique. She would drown her frustrations by buying the most amazing outfit ever.
“Hey, pretty girl.”