“You know that’s not true,” he said, and kissed the top of her head. Even as his lips were brushing her hair, he regretted the fatherly gesture. It was automatic, instinctual, but totally inappropriate. This girl was not his daughter, not his niece, not a family friend. . . . He pulled away, quickly forcing Lauren to sit up. She looked at him, confused for a moment, and then a smile curled her lips. She was staring at him with such blatant adoration that it sent a chill through him. There was something else hidden in her smile . . . desire. Oh God.
“You need to get to bed,” he said, reaching across to open the door for her.
Lauren obediently got out, then turned and peered back in at him. “Talk to you soon, Jeff.” She closed the car door and tottered, in her heels, down the path toward her building.
“No!” Jeff called into the vacuum of the car. “We won’t talk, Lauren! We can’t!” But she didn’t turn back. She didn’t hear him . . . or didn’t want to hear him. He waited until she was safely inside her building and then he drove toward home. It was over. He had delivered the girl without incident. But the tight knot of dread in his bowels told him this wasn’t the end.
hannah
THIRTY DAYS AFTER
“Ronni’s back.” It was Marta, flanked by Caitlin as usual, who hurried to Hannah’s locker with the news. Hannah’s throat tightened. She knew Ronni would return to school eventually but had hoped she’d stay away for a couple of months at least. Ronni’s presence could upset the delicate social order that had been established since she left. Hannah was on top now, but it was still new and her position was precarious. Ronni could walk back in and topple Hannah from her perch. They had all witnessed Lauren’s fickle side when she had dropped Ronni as damaged goods. It could cut both ways.
And then there was the lawsuit. Lisa Monroe was obviously furious with Hannah’s parents. She blamed them for Ronni’s accident and wanted them to pay her three million dollars! Kim and Jeff didn’t have that kind of money—her mom reiterated this point in phone calls with their lawyer and hushed bickering with Hannah’s dad. How did Ronni feel about everything? Did she hate Hannah now? Blame her for the accident? Or did Ronni think her mom was being a “vindictive bitch” as Hannah’s dad said when he thought Hannah was out of earshot?
Hannah closed her locker and pressed her math books to her chest in an effort to appear ambivalent. “Where is she?”
“I saw her from a distance in the counseling suite,” Marta said. “She was with Mrs. Pittwell. Her eye . . . it looks kind of scary.”
“So you didn’t talk to her?” Hannah asked.
“No. I came straight here.”
“I don’t know how to act around her,” Caitlin said. “It just feels so weird.”
“She’s still the same Ronni,” Hannah said with a confidence she didn’t feel. For all she knew, this experience had transformed Ronni into someone completely different.
Marta said, “I know . . . but it’s sort of awkward. Like, I don’t want to stare at her eye or anything.”
“Yeah,” Caitlin said. “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
“You wouldn’t,” Hannah said, “Ronni really likes you guys.” The words sounded insincere, but they weren’t a lie exactly. Ronni had never said she disliked Marta and Caitlin—they just weren’t really on her radar. Hannah stepped into the flow of students heading to class, and Marta and Caitlin fell into step beside her.
“I was hoping you could do me a favor,” Hannah ventured, as they moved through the halls.
Marta sounded suspicious, “What favor?”
“Umm . . . maybe talk to Ronni and see how she’s feeling? About the party? About me?”
Caitlin stopped walking and exchanged a look with Marta. “We don’t really want to get involved.”
“It’s just a simple question,” Hannah retorted. “It’s no big deal.”
She watched another furtive look between Caitlin and Marta. Marta spoke in a low voice. “Lauren told us to stay out of it.”
“Stay out of what?” The stream of students headed to class was thinning, an indication that the second bell was about to ring, but Hannah stood her ground.
“Everything,” Caitlin said in a quiet but resolute voice. “She said to forget that night ever happened. . . .”
“Or we’ll be fucking sorry,” Marta added, a touch indignantly.
“She didn’t mean it,” Hannah scoffed. She had been standing right there when Lauren assured Noah and Adam that the other girls wouldn’t talk. Still, Marta and Caitlin were making it sound so ominous, like Lauren had threatened to kneecap them if they breathed a word. Hannah tried for a lighter tone. “Lauren just doesn’t want anyone to get into trouble.”
There was another look exchanged between Marta and Caitlin, then Marta said, “We’re not going to say anything. About where the booze came from. About any of it.”
“If anyone asks us, we’ll say we don’t remember anything about that night,” Caitlin seconded.
“Which is true, basically,” Marta elaborated. “We were all wasted. It’s normal to forget.”
“I know. I barely remember anything,” Hannah said. “From the alcohol. And the shock . . .”
The second bell rang. “We should go,” Caitlin said, and they all moved toward their classes. “Get Lauren to talk to Ronni,” she suggested.
“She’s Ronni’s best friend,” Marta echoed, “she’ll know if she’s pissed at you or whatever.”
Hannah could feel the cohesion between her two friends, and as a result, her own exclusion. The girls had obviously discussed it and decided they didn’t want anything to do with Ronni or Lauren or Hannah. Hannah had worked so hard to foster a relationship with Lauren, but suddenly, she felt nostalgic for the familiar, comfortable fold of her friendship with these two. It had been so simple and pure and easy . . . but the party had changed everything. Marta and Caitlin could put it all behind them; they could just walk away. Hannah couldn’t.
“You’re right,” Hannah said breezily. “I’ll ask Lauren at lunch.” The girls branched off and headed to social studies. Hannah walked alone to math class.
HANNAH WAS STILL in class when her phone buzzed. After a first-day lecture about a zero-tolerance policy on texting in class, her math teacher had seemingly lost interest and most students texted freely under the guise of using the calculator app. Hannah peeked at her phone under the desk. It was Lauren.
We need to talk
K
Meet me in the tech wing after class
K
When she was finally released from the monotony of geometry, Hannah hurried to meet Lauren. She was terrified of bumping into Ronni along the way. What if Ronni screamed at her? Lashed out at her physically even? Or broke down in tears? But Hannah managed to find Lauren, leaning on the vending machine, without incident.
“Thank fuck,” Lauren said, grabbing Hannah’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What’s going on?”
“Outside.” She tugged Hannah toward the nearest exit.
They walked swiftly across the playing field, heading toward the school fence. Hannah tried not to glance back at the school, but she worried about missing her science class. There was a unit test next week and she could use the review. But based on Lauren’s agitation, this was more important.
Finally, when they had exited the school grounds and were walking along the sidewalk, Lauren spoke over passing traffic. “Principal Edwards called me into her office.”
“What for?” Hannah called over the hum of tires on pavement.