the rest of her toothpick-skinny figure. “I’d die before I got plastic surgery.”
Mona played with the charm on her Tiffany bracelet—the one she, evidently, didn’t have to give back. “Do you think Aria Montgomery had hers done?”
Hanna looked up, startled. “Why?”
“She’s really thin, and they’re like, too perfect,” Mona said. “She went to Finland or wherever, right? I hear in Europe they can do your boobs for really cheap.”
“I don’t think they’re fake,” Hanna murmured.
“How do you know?”
Hanna chewed on her straw. Aria’s boobs had always been there—she and Alison had been the only two of the friends who needed a bra in seventh grade. Ali always flaunted hers, but the only time Aria seemed to notice she even had boobs was when she knit everyone bras as Christmas gifts and had to make herself a larger size. “She just doesn’t seem the type,” Hanna answered. Talking to Mona about her old friends was awkward territory. Hanna still felt bad about how she and Ali and the others used to tease Mona back in seventh grade, but it always seemed too weird to bring up now.
Mona stared at her. “Are you all right? You look different today.”
Hanna flinched. “I do? How?”
Mona gave her a tiny smirk. “Whoa! Somebody’s jumpy!”
“I’m not jumpy,” Hanna said quickly. But she was: Ever since the police station and that e-mail she had gotten last night, she’d been freaking. This morning, her eyes even seemed more dull brown than green, and her arms looked disturbingly puffy. She had this horrible sense that she really was going to spontaneously morph back into her seventh-grade self.
A blond, giraffelike waitress interrupted them. “Have you decided?”
Mona looked at the menu. “I’ll have the Asian chicken salad, no dressing.”
Hanna cleared her throat. “I want a garden salad with sprouts, no dressing, and an extra-large order of sweet potato fries. In a carry-out box, please.”
As the waitress took their menus, Mona pushed her sunglasses down her nose. “Sweet potato fries?”
“For my mom,” Hanna answered quickly. “She lives on them.”
Down on the golf course, a group of older guys teed up, along with one young good-looking guy in fatigue shorts. He looked a little out of place with his messy brown hair, cargos, and…was that a… Rosewood Police polo? Oh no. It was.
Wilden scanned the terrace and coolly nodded when he saw Hanna. She ducked.
“Who is that ?” Mona purred.
“Um…,” Hanna mumbled, half under the table. Darren Wilden was a golfer ? Come on. Back in high school, he was the type to flick lit matches at the guys on Rosewood’s golf team. Was the whole world out to get her?
Mona squinted. “Wait. Didn’t he go to our school?” She grinned. “Oh my God. It’s the girls’ diving team guy. Hanna, you little bitch! How does he know you ?”
“He’s…” Hanna paused. She ran her hand along the waistband of her jeans. “I met him on the Marwyn trail a couple of days ago when I was running. We stopped at the water fountain at the same time.”
“Nice,” Mona said. “Does he work around here?”
Hanna paused again. She really wanted to avoid this. “Um…I think he said he was a cop,” she said nonchalantly.
“You’re kidding.” Mona took out her Shu Uemura lip moisturizer from her blue leather hobo bag and lightly dabbed her bottom lip. “That guy’s hot enough to be in a policeman’s calendar. I could just see it: Mr. April. Let’s ask if we can see his nightstick!”
“Shhh,” Hanna hissed.
Their salads came. Hanna pushed the Styrofoam container of sweet potato fries to the side and took a bite of an undressed grape tomato.
Mona leaned closer. “I bet you could hook up with him.”
“Who?”
“Mr. April! Who else?”
Hanna snorted. “Right.”
“Totally. You should bring him to the Kahn party. I heard some cops came to the party last year. That’s how they never get busted.”
Hanna sat
Mona played with the charm on her Tiffany bracelet—the one she, evidently, didn’t have to give back. “Do you think Aria Montgomery had hers done?”
Hanna looked up, startled. “Why?”
“She’s really thin, and they’re like, too perfect,” Mona said. “She went to Finland or wherever, right? I hear in Europe they can do your boobs for really cheap.”
“I don’t think they’re fake,” Hanna murmured.
“How do you know?”
Hanna chewed on her straw. Aria’s boobs had always been there—she and Alison had been the only two of the friends who needed a bra in seventh grade. Ali always flaunted hers, but the only time Aria seemed to notice she even had boobs was when she knit everyone bras as Christmas gifts and had to make herself a larger size. “She just doesn’t seem the type,” Hanna answered. Talking to Mona about her old friends was awkward territory. Hanna still felt bad about how she and Ali and the others used to tease Mona back in seventh grade, but it always seemed too weird to bring up now.
Mona stared at her. “Are you all right? You look different today.”
Hanna flinched. “I do? How?”
Mona gave her a tiny smirk. “Whoa! Somebody’s jumpy!”
“I’m not jumpy,” Hanna said quickly. But she was: Ever since the police station and that e-mail she had gotten last night, she’d been freaking. This morning, her eyes even seemed more dull brown than green, and her arms looked disturbingly puffy. She had this horrible sense that she really was going to spontaneously morph back into her seventh-grade self.
A blond, giraffelike waitress interrupted them. “Have you decided?”
Mona looked at the menu. “I’ll have the Asian chicken salad, no dressing.”
Hanna cleared her throat. “I want a garden salad with sprouts, no dressing, and an extra-large order of sweet potato fries. In a carry-out box, please.”
As the waitress took their menus, Mona pushed her sunglasses down her nose. “Sweet potato fries?”
“For my mom,” Hanna answered quickly. “She lives on them.”
Down on the golf course, a group of older guys teed up, along with one young good-looking guy in fatigue shorts. He looked a little out of place with his messy brown hair, cargos, and…was that a… Rosewood Police polo? Oh no. It was.
Wilden scanned the terrace and coolly nodded when he saw Hanna. She ducked.
“Who is that ?” Mona purred.
“Um…,” Hanna mumbled, half under the table. Darren Wilden was a golfer ? Come on. Back in high school, he was the type to flick lit matches at the guys on Rosewood’s golf team. Was the whole world out to get her?
Mona squinted. “Wait. Didn’t he go to our school?” She grinned. “Oh my God. It’s the girls’ diving team guy. Hanna, you little bitch! How does he know you ?”
“He’s…” Hanna paused. She ran her hand along the waistband of her jeans. “I met him on the Marwyn trail a couple of days ago when I was running. We stopped at the water fountain at the same time.”
“Nice,” Mona said. “Does he work around here?”
Hanna paused again. She really wanted to avoid this. “Um…I think he said he was a cop,” she said nonchalantly.
“You’re kidding.” Mona took out her Shu Uemura lip moisturizer from her blue leather hobo bag and lightly dabbed her bottom lip. “That guy’s hot enough to be in a policeman’s calendar. I could just see it: Mr. April. Let’s ask if we can see his nightstick!”
“Shhh,” Hanna hissed.
Their salads came. Hanna pushed the Styrofoam container of sweet potato fries to the side and took a bite of an undressed grape tomato.
Mona leaned closer. “I bet you could hook up with him.”
“Who?”
“Mr. April! Who else?”
Hanna snorted. “Right.”
“Totally. You should bring him to the Kahn party. I heard some cops came to the party last year. That’s how they never get busted.”
Hanna sat
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