“That looks great on you,” a voice called. “Except I think you’re a tad too thin.”
Hanna whirled around. In his black wool suit, dark purple tie, and purple-striped button-down, her father looked like George Clooney circa Ocean’s Eleven. “I’m so not too thin,” she answered quickly, trying to hide her thrill. “Kate’s way thinner than me.”
Her father’s face clouded over, perhaps at the mention of his perfect, poised, yet incredibly evil quasi-stepdaughter. “What are you doing here, anyway?” Hanna demanded.
“Your mom let me in.” He walked into Hanna’s room and sat down on her bed. Hanna’s stomach flipped. Her dad hadn’t been in her bedroom since she was twelve, right before he moved out. “She said I could change here for your big party.”
“You’re coming?” Hanna squawked.
“Am I allowed?” her father asked.
“I…I guess so.” Spencer’s parents were coming, as well as some Rosewood Day faculty and staff. “But, I mean, I thought you’d want to get back to Annapolis…and Kate and Isabel. You’ve been away from them for almost a week, after all.” She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her voice.
“Hanna…” her father started. Hanna turned away. She suddenly felt so angry that her dad had left her family, that he was here now, that maybe he loved Kate more than he loved her—not to mention that she had scars all over her face and that her memory about Saturday night still hadn’t returned. She felt tears in her eyes, which made her even angrier.
“Come here.” Her father put his strong arms around her, and when she pressed her head to his chest, she could hear his heart beating.
“You okay?” he asked her.
A horn honked outside. Hanna pulled back her bamboo blinds and saw the limo Mona had arranged waiting in her driveway, its wipers moving furiously over the windshield to keep off the rain. “I’m great,” she said suddenly, the whole world tipping up again. She slid her Dior mask over her face. “I’m Hanna Marin, and I’m fabulous.”
Her father handed Hanna a huge black golf umbrella. “You definitely are,” he said. And for the first time ever, Hanna thought she just might believe him.
What seemed like only seconds later, Hanna was perched atop a pillow-laden platform, trying to keep the balcony’s tassels from knocking off her Dior mask. Four gorgeous man-slaves had hoisted her up, and they were now beginning their slow parade into the party tent on the fifteenth green of the Rosewood Country Club.
“Presenting…in her big return to Rosewood…the fabulous Hanna Marin!” Mona screamed into a microphone. As the crowd erupted, Hanna waved her arms around excitedly. All of her guests were wearing masks, and Mona and Spencer had transformed the tent into the Salon de l’Europe at Le Casino in Monte-Carlo, Monaco. It had faux-marble walls, dramatic frescoes, and roulette and card tables. Sleek, gorgeous boys roamed the room with trays of canapés, manned the tents’ two bars, and acted as croupiers at the gambling tables. Hanna had demanded that none of her party’s staff be female.
The DJ switched to a new White Stripes song and everyone began to dance. A thin, pale hand caught Hanna’s arm, and Mona dragged her through the crowd and gave her a huge hug.
“Do you love it?” Mona cried from behind her expressionless mask, which looked similar to Hanna’s Dior masterpiece.
“Naturally.” Hanna bumped her hip. “And I love the gambling tables. Does anyone win anything?”
“They win a hot night with a hot girl—you, Hanna!” Spencer cried, prancing up behind them. Mona grabbed her hand, too, and the three jiggled with glee. Spencer looked like a blond Audrey Hepburn in her black satin trapeze dress and adorable round-toe flats. When Spencer put her arm around Mona’s shoulders, Hanna’s heart leaped. As much as she didn’t want to give A credit for anything, A’s notes to Mona had made Mona accept Hanna’s old friends. Yesterday, in between rounds of their Mandy Moore drinking game, Mona had told Hanna, “You know, Spencer’s really cool. I think she could be part of our posse.” Hanna had waited years for Mona to say something like that.
“You look great,” a voice said in Hanna’s ear. A boy stood behind her, dressed in fitted pin-striped pants, a white long-sleeved button-down, a matching pin-striped vest, and a long-nosed bird mask. Lucas’s telltale white-blond hair peeked out from the mask’s top. When he reached out and clasped her hand, Hanna’s heart started racing. She held it for a second, squeezed, and let it drop before anyone could see. “This party is awesome,” Lucas said.
“Thanks, it was nothing,” Mona piped in. She nudged Hanna. “Although, I don’t know, Han. Do you think that hideous thing Lucas is wearing qualifies as a mask?”
Hanna glanced at Mona, wishing she could see her face. She looked over Lucas’s shoulder, pretending she’d been distracted by something that was going on over at the blackjack table.
“So, Hanna, can I talk to you for a sec?” Lucas asked. “Alone?”
Mona was now chatting with one of the waiters. “Um, okay,” Hanna mumbled.
Lucas led her to a secluded nook and pulled off his mask. Hanna tried to thwart the tornado of nerves rumbling inside her stomach, avoiding looking anywhere near Lucas’s super-pink, super-kissable lips. “Can I take yours off, too?” he asked.
Hanna made sure they were truly alone, and that no one else would be able to see her bare, scarred face, and then she let him lift off her mask. Lucas kissed her softly on her stitches. “I missed you,” he whispered.
“You only saw me a couple hours ago.” Hanna giggled.
Lucas smiled crookedly. “That seems like a long time.”
They kissed for a few more minutes, snuggled together on a single couch cushion, oblivious to the cacophony of party noises. Then Hanna heard her name through the tent’s gauzy curtains. “Hanna?” Mona’s voice called. “Han? Where are you?”
Hanna freaked. “I should go back out.” She picked up Lucas’s mask by its long bird beak and shoved it at him. “And you should put this back on.”
Lucas shrugged. “It’s hot under that thing. I think I’ll leave it off.”
Hanna tied her own mask’s strings tight. “It’s a masquerade, Lucas. If Mona sees that you’ve taken yours off, she’ll kick you out for real.”
Lucas’s eyes were hard. “Do you always do everything Mona says?”
Hanna tensed. “No.”
“Good. You shouldn’t.”
Hanna flicked a tassel on one of the pillows. She looked at Lucas again. “What do you want me to say, Lucas? She’s my best friend.”
“Has Mona told you what she did to you yet?” Lucas goaded. “I mean, at her party.”
Hanna stood up, annoyed. “I told you, it doesn’t matter.”
He lowered his eyes. “I care about you, Hanna. I don’t think she does. I don’t think she cares about anyone. Don’t let it drop, okay? Ask her to tell you the truth. I think you deserve to know.”
Hanna stared at him long and hard. Lucas’s eyes were shiny and his lip quivered a little. There was a purple welt on his neck from their earlier make-out session. She wanted to reach out and touch it with her thumb.
Without another word, she whipped the curtain open and stormed back onto the dance floor. Aria’s brother, Mike, was demonstrating his best stripper pole dance to a girl from the Quaker school. Andrew Campbell and his nerdy Knowledge Bowl friends were talking about counting cards in blackjack. Hanna smiled when she saw her father chatting with her old cheerleading coach, a woman whom she and Mona had privately called The Rock, because she bore a resemblance to the professional wrestler.