“I did hear something about that.” Ms. Riggs gazed at Hanna sympathetically. “You poor thing. Are you all right?”
Hanna shrugged. She was sort of all right . . . and sort of not. Could you ever really get over something like that? And then there was a new A on the scene. A knew about Tabitha, about Hanna’s naughty pictures with Patrick, the photographer who’d promised he’d make her a model but just wanted to get in her pants, and about her tryst with Liam. Any of those things could ruin her life—and her dad’s campaign. Thank God A didn’t know about the accident she’d been in last summer.
Ms. Riggs checked her watch. “Tom, we’re late for the strategy talk.”
“You go on ahead. I’ll be there in a second,” Mr. Marin said. Ms. Riggs waved good-bye to the girls, and then headed in the direction of The Year of the Rabbit, an upscale Chinese restaurant. Mr. Marin lingered behind, eyeing Hanna and Kate when Ms. Riggs was a safe distance away. “Be nice to Ms. Riggs, okay?” he murmured.
Hanna made a face. “I was nice!”
“I’m always nice, Tom,” Kate added, looking offended.
“I know, I know, girls, just keep it up.” Mr. Marin’s eyes were wide. “She’s a huge philanthropist and very influential. We need her funds to air our commercials throughout the state. It could mean the difference between winning and losing.”
Her father scampered after Ms. Riggs, and Kate headed to the bathroom. Hanna gazed at the passersby again, annoyed that her father had lectured her like she was a naughty six-year-old. Since when did Hanna need a lesson on being nice to donors?
A figure emerged from Armani Exchange, and Hanna perked up. Hanna took in the boy’s wavy hair, square jaw, and slim-cut, beat-up leather jacket. Something inside her stirred. It was her ex, Mike Montgomery. She’d avoided him ever since the Macbeth cast party a few weeks ago, where he’d asked for her to take him back and she’d rejected him. But he looked positively delicious tonight.
Hanna called his name, and Mike looked up and smiled. As he walked toward her, Hanna adjusted her polka-dotted silk blouse so that a teensy bit of her bra strap was showing and quickly checked her reflection in the back of her iPod. Her auburn hair was shiny and full, and her eyeliner was smudged to perfection.
“Hey.” Mike leaned his elbows on the table. “Campaigning, huh?”
“Yup.” Hanna crossed her legs coquettishly, a nervous buzz in her stomach. “And you’re . . . shopping?” She wanted to smack herself for sounding so lame.
Mike held up the A/X bag. “I got that black sweater you and I looked at a while back.”
“The slimming one?” Hanna wound a piece of hair around her finger. “That looked really good on you.”
Two dimples appeared on either side of Mike’s face when he smiled. “Thanks,” he said bashfully.
“Mike?”
Mike jumped, as if caught. A petite girl with long, brown hair, an oval face, and large, doll-like eyes stood behind him. “There you are!” she chirped.
“Oh, hey!” Mike’s voice rose in pitch. “Uh, Hanna, do you know Colleen? My . . . girlfriend?”
Hanna felt as though Mike had kicked her in the boobs. Of course she knew Colleen Bebris—they’d only been going to the same school for ages. But she was his . . . girlfriend? Colleen was one of those ass-kissy types who tried to be everyone’s best friend. Back in the day, Colleen had made it her personal goal to be BFFs with Hanna and Mona, even though she was two years younger and ridiculously dorky. They made Colleen take notes for them in Latin I while they skipped school to go shopping, schlep their clothes to the dry cleaner’s, and camp out in front of the Apple store all weekend so they wouldn’t have to wait in line for the latest iPod. Eventually, Colleen had gotten the hint and started hanging out with the Shakespeare Festival kids instead. But she always had a big smile for Hanna and Mona in the halls, saying “Kiss kiss!” whenever she passed. Mona used to nudge Hanna and mutter, “No no!”
“Nice to see you,” Hanna said tightly. Suddenly feeling awkward, she shoved a flyer in Colleen’s face. “Vote for Tom Marin.”
“Oh, Hanna, I’m not old enough to vote.” Colleen sounded crushed, as if Hanna wasn’t just trying to make conversation. “But your dad’s awesome. That Wilkinson guy seems like a jerk, don’t you think? And his son is such a player.”
Hanna’s eyes widened. How did Colleen know Liam was a player?