Pretty Little Liars #15: Toxic (23 page)

Hanna had left Hailey’s dressing room with a sense of accomplishment. Hailey was out—and was happy to be out. Chances were, she’d have a new film offer by tomorrow.

And Hanna? Well, maybe, just maybe, she could be in. She just had to ask Hank first.

But before she could move, her phone buzzed again. This time, Emily was calling. Hanna hit the green
ANSWER
button and cleared her throat. “What’s going on?”

Emily took a shaky breath. “Jordan’s murderer is dead.”

Hanna frowned. “Is that good?”

“Of course it’s not good!” Emily screeched. “Hanna,
Ali
killed her! She recruits these crazy minions to work for her, and then she disposes of them like Kleenexes!”

Hanna chewed on her thumbnail. Every time she heard Emily’s twitchy, unhinged tone lately, her stomach hurt a little bit worse. “Are you
sure
Ali did it?” she asked tentatively. “Is there any evidence?”

Emily sighed. “That would be too easy. You just don’t understand.” With a groan, she hung up.

Hanna stared at her phone. Then she dialed Emily’s number again, but it rang and rang and rang. Was Emily actually mad at her? Should Hanna have just agreed without asking questions? Thank goodness Emily had already agreed to go to the Rosewood Rallies tonight—at least there they could keep an eye on her.

Then she glanced at herself in the mirror once more, trying her best to push her worry aside. Rolling her shoulders, she stepped out of the trailer, teetered down the steps in her high, strappy sandals, and walked into an adjacent trailer that served as Hank’s office—Hanna had chosen to visit him that afternoon because she knew they had a break in shooting and he wouldn’t be busy.

She took another deep breath and knocked on the door. There was a cough, and Hank opened it, the smell of cigarette smoke swirling out of the small, cramped space. “Hanna!” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Come in, come in.”

Hanna climbed the steps and walked into his trailer, which had a desk, an expensive-looking leather couch, and a bunch of framed awards and accolades on the walls. Hank’s computer was humming, and the latest script was on the screen. Papers littered his desk along with what looked like union forms, a collection of Starbucks paper cups, and several black-and-white head shots of pretty girls about Hanna’s age. Several of them Hanna recognized from other TV shows and movies. She knew why Hank was looking at them: He was trying to find a new Hanna.

“So.” Hank sat down in his chair and placed his hands on his thighs. “What can I do for you?”

Hanna averted her gaze from the head shots, trying not to feel unnerved by how professional they all looked—she didn’t even
have
a head shot. “I’d like to take Hailey’s place as Hanna. I want to play myself in the movie.”

For a moment, Hank’s face was blank, and Hanna wondered if she’d made a total mistake. She was an amateur, a silly girl they’d probably only brought in because it was a fun publicity stunt. Those head-shot girls were the
real
actresses. But then Hank leaned back in his chair. “Interesting.”

Hanna heard herself say the lines she’d rehearsed all morning. “We haven’t shot many Naomi scenes yet, so if you recast someone as her, you wouldn’t have lost much time. And I know I’m pretty green at all this, but I’ll work really hard, and I won’t give you the trouble Hailey did. I know the part because of running lines with Hailey, I’ve heard all your notes for her, and I think I know what sort of character you’re looking for. Plus, I’m way cheaper than those girls.” She gestured to the head shots, which she hoped wasn’t presumptive. “I just want the chance.”

Hank crossed his arms over his chest, looking both uncertain and kind of impressed. He didn’t say anything for a few beats, chewing thoughtfully on his thumbnail. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. You’ve convinced me. Let’s give it a shot.”

Hanna’s jaw dropped.
“Really?”
She hadn’t actually expected her pleas to work.

Hank nodded. “But if it doesn’t work out, you’re back to playing Naomi.” He stood and shook her hand. “Congratulations. I’ll have our legal team put together the paperwork.”

“You won’t regret it!” Hanna blubbered, pumping his hand up and down. She backed out of the trailer, blathering again about how this was an amazing opportunity and how she was going to work really, really hard. As Hank shut the door on her, a huge smile spread across her face, and she let out a high-pitched, happy squeal. “Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes,
yes
!”

“I can’t
believe
you.”

Hanna whirled around, nearly stumbling down the trailer steps. Hailey stood in front of her, a gray duffel over her shoulder. She was staring at Hanna with a betrayed look on her face, as if she’d just heard the whole conversation between Hanna and Hank.

Before Hanna could say a word, Hailey marched up to her. “How dare you walk over me like this?” she growled.

Hanna blinked hard. “You quit!” she squeaked. “And you said you were miserable!”

Hailey’s nostrils flared. “You
convinced
me I was doing the right thing.”

Hanna’s mouth opened, then closed. “But . . .”

Hailey held her hand up to stop her. “But
nothing
,” she hissed. Her eyes were hard and cold. “You’re a bitch and a liar, Hanna. I asked you how I was doing time and again, and you lied and lied and lied. ‘
You’re great, Hailey.’ ‘Good job, Hailey
.’” She wagged her finger in Hanna’s face. “I’m going to
hurt
you. Mark my words.”

And then she spun around, heading back to her rental SUV, a huge Escalade she often complained about driving around Rosewood’s windy back roads. “Hailey!” Hanna called out weakly. But, to no surprise, the girl ignored her, throwing herself into the front seat, gunning the engine, and pulling out of the lot as fast as she could.

A few hours later, Hanna stood at the Rosewood Amtrak station, glancing again and again at her phone. So far, she’d sent Hailey twelve texts, but Hailey hadn’t replied to any of them.
I made a mistake
. And,
I’m sorry
. And,
I’ll back out of the role, just say the word
. She’d reached out to Jared, too, hoping he’d tell her Hailey sometimes got like this and would calm down in a few days, but he hadn’t replied, either. It wasn’t fair: The most wonderful thing had happened. She
should
be completely happy. Instead, she felt antsy and uneasy, with a gnawing pain in her stomach.

At least Mike was due any minute; he’d celebrate with her.
I’ve got a surprise for you
, Hanna had texted him, though she hadn’t told him what it was. She paced up and down the platform, checking her watch again and again. Though it was just a little after four, with hours of daylight left, the spooky, empty station left her feeling uneasy. Something metal clanged on the stairs, just out of view. She whipped around.
Ali?
There was another clang, followed by a long sigh. Her skin prickled. She waited, terrified by who might appear around the corner. But no one came.

A shrill whistle blew. The train puffed into the station, and Hanna waited excitedly as all of the passengers disembarked. Mike brought up the rear, shouldering the Jack Spade bag she’d bought him last Christmas. Hanna let out a squeal and waved for him, but when Mike looked up at her, his eyes were dead. He walked toward her, and then past her, heading up the stairs.

“Uh, hello?” Hanna said, scampering behind him. “How many beers did they give you on the train? Are you so drunk you forgot what your girlfriend looks like?”

Mike reached the top of the stairs, but instead of heading for Hanna’s car, he walked toward the auxiliary lot. “Where are you going?” Hanna demanded, suddenly feeling nervous.

“My dad’s picking me up,” Mike said in monotone.

“Mike.” Hanna grabbed his sleeve. “
I
have a car here. What’s going on?”

Mike glared at her coldly. His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he’d been crying. Hanna’s heart started to beat hard. Finally, he shoved his phone at her. “Is
this
your surprise?”

Hanna stared at the screen. It was the mobile site for TMZ.
BURN IT DOWN COSTARS COZYING UP!
read the headline in garish red lettering. And there, just below, was a picture of Hanna and Jared—kissing at the nightclub in New York.

Hanna could feel the blood draining from her face. “H-he kissed me for
one
second,” she blurted. “And then Hailey snapped a picture before I pulled away.”

Mike snorted. “Yeah, right.” He grabbed the phone back. “Then why does the article say
you
kissed
him
? You would do anything for the attention of a big movie star, even cheat on your boyfriend?”

“Mike, no!”

She reached for him, but he ducked away. “A guy on my floor sent me the link when I was only fifteen minutes away from here.
‘Hey, your girlfriend’s hooking up with some other guy
.’ Some of the comments even said
you
submitted this yourself.”

“Of course I didn’t!” Hanna roared.

“So who did?”

Hanna blinked hard. All at once, it came to her.
I’m going to hurt you
, Hailey had said. It made perfect sense.

She lowered her eyes. If she hadn’t been so ambitious, if she hadn’t wanted to be a star so badly, none of this would have ever happened. She couldn’t even blame any of this on Ali. She’d brought all this on herself.

“Mike, I’m sorry,” she murmured, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks. “Please, let me explain.”

Mike hitched his bag higher on his shoulder. “I have to go,” he muttered, heading toward the auxiliary lot. For the second time that day, Hanna watched as someone she cared about walked away from her in angry silence.

26

ARIA’S ANGEL—OR DEVIL—INVESTOR

The boning on the emerald-green strapless dress Aria was wearing to Rosewood Rallies dug into her boobs, and she was wearing uncomfortable heels, but when she glanced at herself in the long mirror in the lobby of the country club, she had to admit she looked pretty damn good. So did her dad, who had on a dark suit, and Meredith, who wore a structured red dress with a gardenia tucked behind her ear.

But it was Harrison who looked truly amazing. He’d shown up in Rosewood earlier that day wearing a crisp, slim-fit black suit with a huge bouquet of flowers for Aria. Now, as he regarded the two of them in the mirror, he slung his arm around her waist. “I am, without a doubt, with the prettiest girl in the room.”

Aria ducked her head bashfully and said something that came out like, “Oh, you.” She wanted to feel something for Harrison—she really did. He was
perfect
for her: He said sweet things, he fawned over her, and they had the same interests. But a nagging feeling told her she should have felt
more
flattered than she did,
more
fluttery,
more
turned on by how gorgeous he looked in that suit. Right now it was hard to muster up any feeling at all beyond generalized nervousness at being back in the Rosewood Country Club among all her peers.

She looked around. Even though she hadn’t been there since the party Mona Vanderwaal had thrown for Hanna after she was hit by a car—the very night, in fact, they’d discovered Mona was A—the place hadn’t changed a bit. The same plaid wallpaper and heavy mahogany paneling covered the walls, the same ornate carpet lined the floors, and it still smelled like a mixture of cigars, red wine, and cream sauce. There were tons of people milling about in the main ballroom already, looking perfect in their gowns and suits with drinks in hand. A gaggle of kids in their country-club best were running up the dramatic double staircase past the lobby. A large
ROSEWOOD RALLIES
sign was propped up on a table, complete with photos and a description of the charity they were supporting. People barely looked at it, though, more interested in finding their place cards to see which room their family was seated in. Aria couldn’t help but notice that no one here particularly looked like a troubled or disadvantaged youth, either.

“The girl of the hour!” a woman with heavily sprayed blond hair and in a tweed Chanel suit crowed. She gripped her arm hard and said, “My name is Sharon Winters, and I’m the head of the committee who arranged this party. It’s so
wonderful
for you to come, Aria. Now, come with me! I’ve seated you at the front!”

Aria grabbed Harrison’s hand, and Sharon pulled them through a throng of people, past a large room where a buffet had been set up, and into a dining area that featured an enormous bar and at least twenty stools. At the end of the room was a stage, and before that was a long table with four place settings. Hanna, dressed in a sparkly gown Aria didn’t recognize, was already sitting on one end, biting her red-painted fingernails.

Aria slumped down next to Hanna, and her friend rolled her eyes at Sharon, who’d crossed the room to speak to more guests. “Sharon told me that I should give a speech tonight. Yeah,
right
.”

“Well, you
are
the movie star,” Aria couldn’t help teasing. Then she motioned to Harrison. “This is Harrison. He writes
Fire and Funnel
, the art blog.”

“You’re a movie star?” Harrison asked, shaking Hanna’s hand.

“Not exactly.” Hanna’s gaze flickered to Aria. “Do you know if Mike’s coming tonight?”

Aria shook her head regretfully. She’d known that Mike was taking the train home to see Hanna, but then her dad had told her he’d changed his mind and was hanging out with some lacrosse buddies tonight. She didn’t want to pry, but by the look on Hanna’s face, she wondered if they’d had some sort of fight.

“Whatever it is, it will blow over. I know how Mike feels about you,” she said quietly. Hanna just looked away, seeming unconvinced.

They settled into their seats, Harrison sitting to Aria’s left. The crowd in the dining room was thick; almost every table was filled. “A
lot
of people from school are here,” she murmured. There were James Freed and Lanie Iler, laughing over a plate of ravioli. Kirsten Cullen and Scott Chin were in line for the caricature artist. Then she saw Mason Byers, looking sporty in a shirt and tie, and a bunch of other kids from the lacrosse team flop down at a table near the emergency exit at the left.