Sara Shepard - Toxic

Hanna grinned.

They walked into a room whose walls were covered in mosaics and whose glossy tables held explosions of fresh flowers in large, bulbous vases. Plushy booths packed with fabulously dressed people lined the walls, and bartenders scurried behind a bar that looked as if it was made entirely of gold. Everyone Hanna passed was more beautiful than the last. They all turned to Hailey with huge, welcoming smiles.

“You’re back, girl!” said a guy who Hanna was almost positive was the model for Armani. He leaned toward Hailey and gave her air kisses.

“Come to our table!” cried a girl with big, beautiful doe eyes and the most gorgeous, long black hair Hanna had ever seen. After a moment, Hanna realized she was a Victoria’s Secret model named BiBi. Mike totally had a crush on her.

BiBi yanked Hailey toward a banquette, but Hailey planted her feet. “Maybe in a bit, Beebs. I want to spend some quality time with my bestie here,” she said, squeezing Hanna’s arm. “This is Hanna, my costar— and the most awesome girl in the world.”

“Great to meet you, sweetie,” BiBi said in her French accent, kissing Hanna lightly on the cheek. Hanna wanted to respond—maybe something about how Mike was her biggest fan, or what it was like to wear those Victoria’s Secret angel’s wings—but Hailey yanked her toward a small, cordoned-off area marked VIP, at the back of the club. Inside, people who were somehow even more beautiful mingled around a horseshoe-shaped, platinum-colored bar.

Hanna tried to remain cool, but her stomach was swooping. She’d never been in a VIP section before. There had better be a celebrity blogger in there, or maybe someone from Us Weekly . She needed people to know about this.

Hailey winked at the bouncer, and he lifted the VIP rope for both of them. She sauntered toward an empty banquette, and Hanna followed. On the way, Hailey snatched a bottle of champagne from a waiter’s tray. She pulled at the cork with her fingers, and it eventually gave way with a festive pop. Foam spilled from the lip and onto the floor. Hailey tipped up the bottle into her mouth, then passed it to Hanna. Hanna looked around, feeling a little foolish, but took a swig, too.

Then they fell into the velvet seats. At each place setting was a small, quilted gift bag. Hanna eagerly looked inside. There was a (big!) bottle of Bond No. 9 High Line perfume, a small box of Godiva chocolates, an advance DVD copy of Kill or Be Killed , and a gift card to Bliss Spa. Hanna squealed with delight.

Hailey examined her gift bag, too, then regarded Hanna eagerly. “So? Is this okay?”

Hanna almost coughed up a swallow of champagne. “Are you kidding me?” She gestured around. “I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Good.” Hailey looked relieved. “I hope this is the start of a whole bunch of fun girls’ nights.”

Once again, Hanna was touched. It was so sweet that Hailey wanted to do all this for her.

A waiter appeared, and Hailey ordered everything on the menu in tasting portions. More champagne was poured, and every few minutes, someone Hanna recognized—a famous magazine editor from Project Runway , a breakout fashion designer, a guest host from American Idol , that guy who’d won a bunch of gold medals in swimming in the last Olympics, and, of course, a bunch of the Kill or Be Killed actors—stopped by to give Hailey props. Hailey introduced Hanna to each of them, and the more champagne Hanna drank, the more outgoing she felt. Soon enough, she was chatting with this season’s It Model about the beauty of T-straps. When a hot, up-and-coming singer-songwriter asked Hanna to dance, she got up and whirled around for three blissful minutes, her cheeks hot and her head light.

There was more dancing, more friends, and more champagne, and at one point, Hailey climbed onto the bar and did a few seconds of twerking before she dizzily climbed back down. Hanna helped Hailey to her feet, and they tumbled into their seats to find that their food had arrived.

“ Perfect ,” Hailey whooped. “If I had any more champagne on an empty stomach, they’d have to peel me off the floor.” Then she pushed a bunch of plates toward Hanna. “Try these. They’re all amazing.”

Hanna dug into a plate of what looked like spring rolls. Hailey selected a dumpling and cut it delicately with her fork. Then Hailey’s eyes widened. “Over here!” she squealed, motioning for someone across the room.

Hanna followed her gaze. Jared Diaz, the boy who was playing Mike in Burn It Down , and Callum Yates, who was playing Noel Kahn, appeared from the crowd. Both were dressed in smart button-downs, perfectly fitting jeans, and cool leather sneakers. They wove through the club as if they’d been here before.

“I texted them to stop by,” Hailey yelled to Hanna across the table. “I hope that’s okay?”

Hanna felt a teensy dart of annoyance—worried it might look like a double date. But the guys were nice. And this was what she’d wanted, after all—to hobnob with her costars. To be part of the It Crowd.

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” Hailey chirped as the boys reached the table. She patted the seat of the banquette, and Callum slid in next to her. “Jared, you sit next to Hanna!”

Jared did as he was told, giving Hanna an excited smile. Hanna, feeling loose and friendly from the alcohol, gave Jared a huge hug and offered him a bite of spring roll, which he graciously accepted, using her fork.

“Were you in New York for press interviews, too?” she asked Jared as he chewed.

Jared rolled his eyes and wiped his mouth. “It took all day. ”

“Oh, cry me a river.” Hanna waved her hand. “I’m totally jealous.”

Jared glanced at another spring roll, then raised an eyebrow for Hanna’s permission to take it off her plate. She nodded. “Actually, everyone was asking about you,” he said.

“Me?” Hanna touched her chest.

Jared popped another spring roll in his mouth, his eyes searching her face. He was as cute as Mike, though in a trendier, Justin Bieber sort of way—not really her type. “A lot of the reporters wondered why you weren’t part of the press junket, too. People kept asking me who would make a better Hanna Marin—Hailey or the real Hanna.” He grinned slyly. “I told them the best person to ask was Hanna Marin herself.”

Hanna stared down at the table. It was a good thing it was dark in the club, because her cheeks were blazing red. She could feel Jared watching her carefully, but it didn’t seem like he was baiting her. Had he noticed Hailey’s pitiful Hanna performance, too?

Suddenly, she felt a rush of uninhibited courage. She scooted closer to Jared and leaned into his ear. “Between you and me? I’d make the better Hanna.”

Jared cocked his head flirtatiously. “Oh really?”

Hanna’s gaze slid toward Hailey and Callum, who were deep in conversation about which New York City gym was swankier—La Palestra or Peak Performance. She glanced back at Jared and put a finger to her lips. Don’t tell. To which Jared pretended to lock his lips and throw the key over his shoulder.

Hanna giggled, and he held her gaze for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, he leaned forward and kissed Hanna full on the mouth. He tasted like bourbon, and his lips felt totally different than Mike’s. A full three seconds passed before Hanna realized what was happening and pulled away, but she’d already sensed a camera flash.

“Yeah!” Hailey called from across the table, her phone raised. “Super sexy! Do it again!”

But Hanna had already drawn back. She wiped her mouth. “What was that for?” she asked Jared, fully aware of her squeaky voice.