“Do you know her?” she said, quietly, as if Hannah might be too drunk to understand.
Hannah felt a scorch of embarrassment, heat rising from her cheeks.
Blake was looking straight at her.
“Yeah, I know Hannah,” he said flatly. “She helps out at the house sometimes.”
“Oh!” the girl said. “Yeah, I know you. Don’t you work at that little shop in town? The one that sells all the beach stuff?”
Hannah stepped back. She could see it so clearly. His lies. Her stupidity. Her idiotic belief that Blake would ever actually be with someone like her.
“I’m fine,” she muttered.
She turned, too quickly, a rush of blood to her head, a flush of light. When it cleared, she could see Olivia and Phoebe and Chrissie, their arms looped around one another, bent double with laughter. Tamara, standing apart from them, her face still.
Hannah walked straight past them, trying to ignore the sound of Chrissie cawing, the rise of Olivia’s voice as she protested that it was a joke. She knew, in that moment, thatshewas the joke, to them. She understood, for the first time, that they found the thought of someone like her being with someone like Blake funny. She knew then that she would never, ever be like them.
“Hannah!”
A familiar voice was calling after her. Hannah didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. She was almost running now, almost back on the beach, where the rock would turn to sand. The grit between her toes.
“Hannah.”
A hand caught hold of hers, jerking her to a stop. Hannah shook it away, not wanting Josie to see that she was crying.
“Stop following me,” Hannah said.
“Are you OK?” Josie said. “I saw what happened, and—”
“I’m fine,” said Hannah, even though her eyes were stinging, her vision blurred.
“I was worried that something like this would happen, ever since Tamara mentioned Cordelia. I wanted to sit down with you and tell you properly, but—”
Hannah’s head snapped up, looking past Josie.
“What do you mean?” she said. “Ever since Tamara mentioned Cordelia?”
Josie looked pained.
“Cordelia,” she said. “Blake’s girlfriend. She flew out yesterday.”
The world slowed.
“Blake has a girlfriend?”
“He’s been a total dick,” Josie said. “I told Tamara it wasn’t fair, messing you about like that. But—well.”
Hannah feels as if her skin is burning, as if there’s a pressure in her skull that she can’t shake off.
“You knew?” she said. “You knew he had a girlfriend?”
Josie flushed.
“Not until a few days ago,” she said. “I’m sorry, Han.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hannah said. “What, were you too busy trying to get with Tamara?”
The words are sharp, coming out before she can think them through. But she wants to lash out. She wants to hurt someone, anyone, so that she is not the only one who feels this gut ache, heart wring of pain.