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margarita—it was one of her favorite aromas, though it had been ages since she’d smelled it. Suddenly, a memory of the last time she really remembered the scent wriggled its way into her mind. The memory was about the other secret she was keeping, the one about Madison last summer.
    She’d been in Philly with her dad that day to attend a political rally for one of his cronies—her dad’s campaign hadn’t really ramped up yet, but he’d done his fair share of handshaking and drumming up financial support. Afterward, when her dad had gone to a fancy dinner at the Four Seasons, Hanna had wandered over to South Street, wanting to get lost in the crowd of sightseers. Even though she was psyched that her dad was running for office, the secret from spring break weighed heavily on her. What if someone found out about it?
    She’d noticed someone smiling at her from one of the side streets and saw an attractive guy standing in front of a bar called the Cabana. He was cute in that clean-cut, interchangeable-frat-boy way.
    “Drinks are half-off right now,” he said, pointing to the bar. “Come in for happy hour.”
    “Uh, I have a boyfriend,” Hanna said quickly.
    One corner of the guy’s mouth turned up. “I’m the bartender. I’m just on a break right now. I’m not trying to hit on you.”
    Hanna peered into the bar. It wasn’t really her type of place—there was an outdated Phillies schedule in the window, a naked girl–silhouette doormat at the front door, and the smell of stale beer and cigarettes. But there was an old-timey jukebox in the back playing a classic country song. No one knew, but old country songs were her weakness. She wanted to sit in the darkness and not think for a while. Besides, this didn’t seem like the kind of place anyone from her dad’s campaign would go, meaning they wouldn’t catch her.
    So she followed the guy in. A couple of downtrodden-looking men and women nursed beers at the bar, and two guys were halfheartedly playing darts in the back.
    The bartender who’d coaxed her inside had now taken his post behind the counter. “I’m Jackson, by the way,” he’d said. “What can I get you?”
    Hanna didn’t really want anything to drink, but she asked for a margarita anyway. As she inhaled the drink’s syrupy sweetness someone called out from the other end of the bar, “Watch out. Those things are super potent.”
    It was a slender girl a few years older than Hanna with wide blue eyes and high cheekbones. There was something sporty about her broad shoulders, freshly scrubbed skin, and high blond ponytail. She nudged her chin toward Hanna’s drink. “Seriously. Jackson should have warned you.”
    Hanna licked her fingers clean. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”
    The girl grabbed her cocktail, got up, and slid into a seat next to her. “He’s kind of cute.”
    Hanna shrugged. “He looks like he rows crew. Not my thing.”
    The girl sipped her drink. “I dare you to ask him to do a shot with us.”
    “That’s okay,” Hanna said quickly. She wasn’t in the partying mood.
    The girl cocked her head. “Is someone scared?”
    Hanna flinched. Ali used to dare Hanna, Emily, Aria, and Spencer to do all kinds of things they didn’t want to do, teasing that they were scared when they refused. She always made them feel like such losers.
    “Fine.” Hanna flagged Jackson over and ordered three lemon drops—one for him, too. The bartender and the girl knocked theirs back, but Hanna dumped hers on the floor when they weren’t looking.
    The girl sloppily wiped her mouth and gave Hanna an approving grin. “What’s your name, anyway?”
    “Olivia.” Hanna blurted out the first name that came to mind. It was the name of her father and Isabel’s wedding planner, whom she’d spoken with earlier that day.
    “I’m Madison.” Madison raised her empty shot glass. “I’m having one last hurrah before I head back to Penn State. I’m on academic probation there, and if they