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.

She finally found Mona sitting in another one of the pillow-laden enclaves. Eric Kahn, Noel’s older brother, dangled next to her, whispering in her ear. Mona noticed Hanna and sat up. “Thank God you got away from Loser Lucas,” she groaned. “Why has he been hanging around you so much, anyway?”

Hanna scratched at her stitches underneath her mask, her heart suddenly racing. All at once, she needed to ask Mona. She needed to know for sure. “Lucas says I shouldn’t trust you.” She forced a laugh. “He says there’s something you’re not telling me, as if there would ever be something you wouldn’t tell me.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, he’s totally bullshitting me. It’s so lame.”

Mona crossed her legs and sighed. “I think I know what he’s talking about.”

Hanna swallowed hard. The room suddenly smelled too strongly of incense and freshly cut Bermuda grass. There was a burst of applause at the blackjack table; someone had won. Mona moved closer to her, talking right in Hanna’s ear. “I never told you this, but Lucas and I dated the summer between seventh and eighth grade. I was his first kiss. I dumped him when you and I became friends. He called me for, like, six months afterward. I’m not sure he’s ever gotten over it.”

Hanna sat back, stunned. She felt like she was on one of those amusement park swings that abruptly changed directions halfway through the ride. “You and Lucas…dated?”

Mona lowered her eyes and pushed a stray lock of golden hair off her mask. “I’m sorry I never said anything about it before. It’s just that…Lucas is a loser, Han. I didn’t want you to think I was a loser too.”

Hanna ran her hands through her hair, thinking about her conversation with Lucas in the hot-air balloon. She had told him everything, and his face had been so innocent and open. She thought about how intensely they’d kissed, and the little moaning noises he’d made when she ran her fingers up and down his neck.

“So, he was trying to be my friend and saying nasty things about you to…to get back at you for dumping him?” Hanna stammered.

“I think so,” Mona said sadly. “He’s the one you shouldn’t trust, Hanna.”

Hanna stood up. She remembered how Lucas had said she was so pretty, and how good that had felt. How he’d read her DailyCandy blog entries while the nurses changed her IV fluids. How, after he’d kissed her in the hospital bed, Hanna’s heart rate had stayed elevated for a full half hour—she’d watched it on the heart monitor. Hanna had told Lucas about her eating issues. About Kate. About her friendship with Ali. About A! Why had he never told her about Mona?

Lucas was now sitting on another couch, talking to Andrew Campbell. Hanna made a beeline right for him, and Mona followed close behind, grabbing her arm. “Deal with this later. Why don’t I just throw him out? You should be enjoying your big night.”

Hanna waved Mona away. She poked Lucas in the back of his pin-striped vest. When Lucas turned around, he looked genuinely happy to see her, giving her a sweet, ecstatic smile.

“Mona told me the truth about you,” Hanna hissed, placing her hands on her hips. “You guys used to date.”

Lucas’s lip twitched. He blinked hard, opened his mouth, then shut it again. “Oh.”

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” she demanded. “It’s why you want me to hate her.”

“Of course not.” Lucas looked at her, his brows furrowed. “We weren’t serious.”

“Right,” Hanna scoffed.

“Hanna doesn’t like boys who lie,” Mona added, appearing behind Hanna.

Lucas’s mouth dropped open. A bloom of redness crawled from his neck to his cheeks. “But I suppose she likes girls who lie, huh?”

Mona crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not lying about anything, Lucas.”

“No? So then you told Hanna what really happened at your party?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hanna screeched.

“Of course I told her,” Mona said at the same time.

Lucas looked at Hanna, his face growing more and more crimson. “She did something awful to you.”

Mona inserted herself in front of him. “He’s just jealous.”

“She humiliated you,” Lucas added. “I was the one who came and saved you.”

“What?” Hanna squeaked in a small voice.

“Hanna.” Mona grabbed Hanna’s hands. “It’s all a misunderstanding.”

The DJ switched to a Lexi song. It was a song Hanna didn’t hear often, and at first she wasn’t sure when she’d heard it last. Then, all at once, she remembered. Lexi had been the special musical guest at Mona’s party.

A memory suddenly caught fire in Hanna’s mind. She saw herself wearing a skin-tight champagne-colored dress, struggling to walk into the planetarium without her outfit bursting at the seams. She saw Mona laughing at her, and then she felt her knee and elbow hitting the hard marble floor. There was a long, painful riiiip noise as her dress gave way, and everyone stood around her, laughing. Mona laughed the hardest of all.

Underneath her mask, Hanna’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. No. It couldn’t be true. Her memory was scrambled from the accident. And even if it was true, did it matter now? She looked down at her brand-new Paul & Joe bracelet, a delicate gold chain with a pretty butterfly charm clasp. Mona had bought it for her as a welcome-back-from-the-hospital present, giving it to Hanna right after A sent Mona that taunting e-card. “I don’t want us ever to be mad at each other again,” Mona had said as Hanna lifted the jewelry box lid.

Lucas stared at her expectantly. Mona had her hands on her hips, waiting. Hanna tied the mask’s ribbon closure in a tighter knot. “You’re just jealous,” she said to Lucas, putting her arm around Mona. “We’re best friends. Always will be.”

Lucas’s face crumpled. “Fine.” He wheeled around and ran out the door.

“What a lame-ass,” Mona said, sliding her arm in the crook of Hanna’s elbow.

“Yeah,” Hanna said, but her voice was so quiet, she doubted Mona heard.

28

POOR LITTLE DEAD GIRL

The sky was darkening on Friday night as Mrs. Fields dropped Emily and Trista off at the country club’s main entrance. “Now, you know the rules,” Mrs. Fields said sternly, draping her arm over Emily’s seat. “No drinking. Be home by midnight. Carolyn will give you girls a ride home. Got it?”

Emily nodded. It was kind of a relief that her mom was enforcing some rules. Her parents had been so lenient since she’d come home, she was beginning to think that they both had brain tumors or had been replaced by clones.

As Emily’s mom sped away, Emily straightened the black jersey dress she’d borrowed from Carolyn’s closet and tried not to wobble in her red leather kitten heels. In the distance, she could see the huge, glowing party tent. A Fergie song blared out of the speakers, and Emily heard Noel Kahn’s unmistakable voice cry, “That’s so hot!”

“I am so excited for tonight,” Trista said, grabbing Emily’s arm.

“Me too.” Emily pulled her jacket closer around her, watching the skeleton wind sock twist from the country club’s main entrance. “If you could be any Halloween character in the world, what would you be?” she asked. Lately, Emily had been thinking of everything in Tristaisms, trying to figure out which sort of spaghetti noodle she was most like, which Great Adventure roller coaster, which kind of deciduous Rosewood tree.

“Catwoman,” Trista answered promptly. “You?”

Emily looked away. Right now, she kind of felt like a witch. After Trista surprised Emily in the yearbook room, she’d explained that since her father was a pilot with US Air, she got big discounts even on last-minute flights. After Emily’s text yesterday, she’d decided to hop on a flight, accompany Emily to Hanna’s masquerade party, and camp out on Emily’s bedroom floor. Emily didn’t quite know how to say, “You shouldn’t have come”…and didn’t quite want to, either.

“When’s your friend meeting us?” Trista asked.

“Um, she’s probably already here.” Emily started across the parking lot, passing eight BMW 7 Series cars in a row.

“Cool.” Trista spread ChapStick over her lips. She passed it to Emily, and their fingers lightly touched. Emily felt tingles run through her, and when she met Trista’s eyes, the amorous look on Trista’s face indicated she was thinking equally tingly thoughts.

Emily stopped short next to the valet stand. “Listen. I have a confession to make. Maya is sort of my girlfriend.”

Trista stared at her blankly.

“And I kind of told her—and my parents—that you’re my pen pal,” Emily went on. “That we’ve been writing for a few years.”

“Oh, really?” Trista nudged her playfully. “Why didn’t you just tell her the truth?”

Emily swallowed, crushing a few dried, fallen leaves under her toe. “Well…I mean, if I told her what really happened…in Iowa…she might not get it.”

Trista smoothed down her hair with her hands. “But nothing did happen. We just danced.” She poked Emily in the arm. “Geez, is she that possessive?”

“No.” Emily stared at the Halloween scarecrow display on the country club’s front lawn. It was one of three scarecrows around the grounds, and yet a crow was perched on a nearby flagpole, not one bit frightened. “Not exactly.”