Hannah inhaled slowly, giving Regan a long, hard once-over with her piercing blue eyes. Decision made.
“All right,” she said finally. “But I get to make fun of your face jewelry.”
“That’s fine,” Regan replied. “I know it’s only that you wish you had some of your own. If you can stop being such a bitch, maybe I’ll do your eyes up like mine.”
Hannah smiled. “I don’t care to walk around looking like a glittery Barbie doll.”
Regan leaned over the table and shoved her nose in Hannah’s face.
“Everyone wants to look like a glittery Barbie doll,” she said softly.
The girls stared at one another. Hannah was certain she understood the underlying meaning to Regan’s words, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She worked so hard to be anti-feminine—embracing a stereotype that was forced upon her by the very people she despised. The people who abused her every day. All right, then. She would flip the script—try for an ironic existence—though she assumed they were too stupid to get it. And they were. But Regan got it. And Regan knew she was pretending—that she longed to swipe her eyelashes with mascara and wear the reddest lipstick. That she ached to feel pretty in her clothes instead of hiding away from everyone in boyish attire because they told her to.
“I don’t think I like you,” Hannah whispered, still staring at her love interest.
“You like me just fine,” Regan replied.
Hannah went back to eating her sandwich, quietly accepting Regan’s statement as truth. Because it was truth, though she’d never admit it aloud.
“You’re gonna do a lot of crying in the next few days,” Hannah said. “Prepare yourself.”
“Speaking from experience?” Regan asked.
“What do you think?” Hannah replied.
Silence.
“Just don’t let them see you do it,” Hannah said softly. “Makes it a million times worse.”
“I don’t care if they see me cry,” Regan said, finishing her sandwich.
“Easy to say when you’ve never experienced the repercussions. Trust me on this. I’m trying to help you out,” Hannah said.
Jeremy reluctantly chimed in. “She’s right.”
Regan bristled. “If it hurts, why can’t I show it?”
“Because they’ll hurt you worse,” Jeremy said.
“You don’t seem to care about it anymore,” Regan pointed out. She eyed his Ranch dressing, then dipped her carrot in it.
“Because I lift,” he said.
“Huh?”
Hannah grinned in understanding.
“I lift. If they come after me now, I’ll break their necks.”
Regan blinked.
“He’s stronger, you dope!” Hannah cried, chuckling. “Haven’t you noticed no one gives him shit this year? He’s got the guy advantage—testosterone. Well, he’s always had the guy advantage. Just now he’s done something with it.” She waited.
Regan lifted her eyebrow.
“His muscles, Regan. Jesus Christ. Don’t you know anything about physiology?”
“Soooo, you and I need to grow muscles, then?” Regan asked.
Hannah snorted. “We’d never be as strong. And anyway, you don’t need to worry about punches. They’ll just attack you psychologically because you’re a pretty girl.”
Regan rolled her eyes.
“They get physical with me because I look like a dyke. If I were little and cute like you, I’d only have to worry about the verbal assaults.”
Regan shifted uncomfortably. “Can we change the subject?”
“Why?” Hannah asked. “You wanted to sit here.”
“And I know you two don’t talk about this stuff,” Regan said.
That was true. Hannah and Jeremy never talked about bullying. They talked about video games and snowboarding and how much they hated their dads. But that was their conversation, not hers.
“I thought you’d want pointers,” Hannah said.
“I don’t need pointers,” Regan replied.
Hannah considered her. “No, you don’t need pointers. But that’s not the reason you want to change the subject. You’re uncomfortable hearing about our abuse because you used to be on the other side. You identified with the people who treated us like shit.”
“Hannah, come on,” Jeremy said.
“I’m right, though,” Hannah said to him. “Aren’t I?”
Regan nodded. Hannah wasn’t expecting that. The threesome sat for a time in silence, chewing and thinking.
“Well, go on then,” Regan said.
“Go on with what?” Hannah asked.
“Making me feel badly. Giving me victim pointers. Go on. I’m ready for it. As long as you promise to be done with it today.”
Hannah thought a moment. “Okay, deal.”
Jeremy wiped his mouth and sighed.
“So what’s first, Jer? Jesus, we’ve never even discussed it,” Hannah said.
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“I do,” Hannah said. She looked Regan over. “What secrets have you shared with Casey?”
Regan’s heart plummeted to the floor.
“Well?” Hannah persisted.
“Everything,” Regan breathed.
“Okay, then. That’s the first thing you’re gonna deal with. By the end of the week, everyone will know all your shit.”
“Oh my God,” Regan whispered. The image of wrapping her breasts flashed into her mind. Was it a big deal if people laughed at her about it? Uh, yeah. It was a big fucking deal!
She shot up from the table and headed for Casey. When she reached the popular group, she stood waiting for someone to acknowledge her. No one did.
“Have you shared my secrets?” she demanded, glaring at Casey.
Casey turned her face even as Ethan forbade her to. She stared at Regan.
“Have you?” Regan pressed.
“What secrets?” Casey asked.
“Any of them!”
“Would you like me to?”
Hannah’s voice echoed in her head: Don’t let them see you cry. Her eyes welled. This was Casey. Her BFF. Confidant. Other sister.
“Would you do that to me, Casey?” she whispered low. Barely audible.