The Party

“She wanted to talk to me about fucking Ronni.”

Fucking Ronni? Hannah wasn’t sure if the expletive meant that Lauren was angry at Ronni, or just angry at the principal for wanting to discuss her situation.

“Edwards said that Ronni needs support and love and all that shit. Ronni’s really fragile and she needs her best friend. I didn’t want to say it to Edwards, but I’m totally on your side in this.”

“My side?”

Lauren stopped walking and faced her. “Ronni and her mom are trying to ruin your family.”

“Ronni’s not. I mean, she might not even know about the lawsuit.”

“Please . . .” Lauren rolled her eyes. “Ronni and her mom are like BFFs. They’re totally weird and codependent. That’s what happens when you’re an only and you don’t have a dad.”

“I guess. . . .”

They walked again. “I told Edwards, I’m not even that close to Ronni anymore and she can’t make me babysit her.”

“What did Edwards say?”

“She was all, like, disappointed in me. . . . Whatevs. She can’t force us to be friends with Ronni. I mean, you and I are super close now. It would be kind of a downer to have the one-eyed freak hanging around like a third wheel.”

Hannah gave a weak smile of agreement but her head was reeling. She had been afraid that Ronni might replace her in Lauren’s affections, but she hadn’t expected this: that they would turn on Ronni, that she would become an outcast, the enemy. Wasn’t Ronni the real victim here? Wasn’t she the one who was really suffering? Was this all because of Lisa’s lawsuit?

Lauren said, “Did you know Ronni Snapchatted her tits to Adam?”

“No. When?”

“Like, a week before your birthday. I kind of liked Adam then, and she just went after him. What a whore.”

“Totally.”

“Still . . . I have to talk to her,” Lauren continued. “To make sure she won’t say anything. I already made sure Marta and Caitlin won’t rat us—or your dad—out.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s he holding up?” Lauren asked breezily. “Your dad?”

It was a weird question. Hannah glanced over at her friend, but Lauren looked completely blasé. “Fine. He runs and swims a lot. It’s good for stress.”

“I used to do yoga at the Bay Club. I saw him working out there a lot. He’s really fit. For his age.”

Ewwww. “I guess. It’s my mom I worry about.”

“I wouldn’t worry about her,” Lauren said.

“She’s really upset about the lawsuit and everything. . . . She and Lisa Monroe used to be friends.”

“My mom says your mom is more worried about her precious reputation than anything else,” Lauren relayed. “And my stepbitch says this all could have been avoided if your parents had offered to pay Ronni’s hospital bills, or given her some money for college or something. Just as a way of saying sorry. She says your parents brought this on themselves.”

Hannah felt hot anger rise up in her chest, into her throat, and color her face red. The depth of her rage surprised her. She’d never felt protective of her parents before—she’d never had to. And she had idolized Lauren for so long . . . but right now, she wanted to slap the girl’s perfectly made-up face. She wanted to pull her shiny hair and kick her in her J Brand–clad shins. How fucking dare Lauren and her dysfunctional parents judge Hannah’s family? How fucking dare they? Hannah stopped walking. She could feel her cheeks burning, her eyes filling with angry tears. She couldn’t lose it, she just couldn’t.

“I’m not really cool with your family talking shit about my family,” she said, her voice trembling.

Lauren stopped and gave Hannah an appraising stare. She took in the anger contorting Hannah’s features, the red complexion, and the tears shining in Hannah’s eyes. “Chill out,” the popular girl said. “You know my mom is a fucking mess. She’s on all these antidepressants and she drinks wine, like, all day. And my stepmom is a nosy, do-gooder bitch. It’s not like I care what they think. I was just saying. . . .”

“Cool,” Hannah croaked, terrified that she was about to burst into tears.

Lauren’s lips twitched and it looked like she was going to laugh. Hannah was mortified. She’d overreacted, freaked out, nearly bawled like some weak little baby. . . . Her shame made her face burn hotter. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry . . .

“Do you want to go back to school?” Lauren asked.

Hannah heard the challenge in her friend’s tone and realized this was a pivotal moment. Hannah’s answer would define her in Lauren’s eyes, and it would cement her future. She took a deep breath.

“Fuck no. . . . Do you have any weed?”





lisa


THIRTY-FIVE DAYS AFTER


Lisa wrapped her hands around the large cup—a bowl really—of steaming ginger rooibos tea. She was seated across from Carla Ross, Lauren’s stepmom, who was sipping from her own bowl: herbal lemongrass. Lisa had only met Carla perfunctorily before today. A couple of months ago, she had picked Ronni up at Carla’s luxurious, South of Market apartment where she lived with Lauren’s father, Darren. Usually, Ronni took transit home, but that night she’d stayed late, supposedly working on a science project. When Lisa picked up her daughter, she’d decided to introduce herself to Lauren’s parents . . . and check out the luxury penthouse.

Lauren despised her stepmom, but that wasn’t a reflection on Carla’s character. Ronni had taken an instant dislike to more than a few of Lisa’s lovers. (This instant contempt was, in fact, preferable to the rare occasions when Ronni had grown fond of and become attached to a man her mom had been seeing.) For several years, Lisa had avoided introducing her boyfriends to her daughter—until Allan. The two were amicable, but Lisa kept them in separate orbits as much as possible.

Carla had called Lisa right after the accident to express her concern for Ronni. Then, a few days ago, she’d sent an e-mail:

Hi Lisa,

I wanted to check on Ronni. I hear she’s back at school and I hope she’s doing well. I’m really upset that Lauren isn’t being a better friend to her through all of this. My husband says to stay out of it, that I don’t know everything that’s going on, and I don’t. But I do know that real friends should stand by each other through good and bad times. I’m sorry that Lauren’s mom never taught her that. If you ever want to have tea and talk, I’m here.

Carla xo

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