Unbelievable (Book Four)

Twenty-Seven: Bizarre Love Triangle.

Friday night, just before the limo was supposed to arrive to escort Hanna to her party, Hanna stood in her bedroom, twirling around in her brightly printed Nieves Lavi dress. She was finally a perfect size two, thanks to a diet of IV fluids and stitches that made it too painful to chew solid foods.

"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.

"You okay?" he asked her.

A horn honked outside. Hanna pulled back her bamboo blind and saw the limo Mona had arranged waiting in her driveway, its wipes 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-salves 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 canapes, 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 flat. 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.