Step 1: Immersion

Hannah reasoned she just needed to immerse herself into a clique, study them and then join in. Maybe she could even handle a different clique each week? She scanned the quad deciding where to start. It was lunch this period and the lush green grounds of Stanton Prep were dotted with clusters of students enjoying the thawed spring weather. There were the jocks, freaks, geeks, flunkies, and of course, on the bridge that overlooked the campus, were the Goldens.

The Goldens were the popular kids. Someone at Stanton Prep coined the term long ago, donning all the trust fund brats, socialites, and celebrity offspring as the proverbial golden children. Born with more than a silver spoon in their mouth, these social climbers made the rules at Stanton.

Everyone wanted to be, date, or kill one of the Goldens. Knowing exactly where they’d be at this hour, Hannah zeroed in on them. They always held court on the bridge at lunch. Everyone passed under it each day to enter and exit their campus, giving the Goldens the perfect view of their kingdom.

Hannah heard laughter coming from what her fellow classmates snidely referred to as the Golden Gate Bridge. She gazed studiously at the bright clothing and shiny hair peppering the stone bridge. That’s where she would focus. The Goldens would be her Everest. If she could crack them she could gain access to any clique in the school.

Game on.

Step 2: Recon

Hannah picked up her bagged lunch and moved closer to the bridge, settling directly below a cluster of three gorgeous senior girls. Savannah Huxley, Madison Carmichael and Blakely Anderson. They were all yammering on excitedly about something. Hannah silently chewed her PB&J listening intently.

“Madi . . . really? I think you can do better than Vera Wang,” Blakely scoffed.

“What’s wrong with Vera?”

“Nothing if you don’t mind looking outdated.”

Madison’s perfectly glossed lips parted in shock. “Vera is classic!”

“Yeah, classic last year maybe.”

Savannah piped up. “She’s right, Madi. You wore Vera last year.”

“But she’s a close friend of Daddy’s. I feel bad wearing someone else.”

“This is the last Cohl ball. It’s the culmination of our high school reign. Our dresses need to be perfection,” Savannah added. “This is how we will be remembered.”

Harrison Cohl’s masked ball! That was it. That was Hannah’s ticket to high school social success. Harrison Cohl was one of the Goldens. Okay, more like the Golden. His parents, Alastair and Evelyn Cohl, were powerful politicians. They’d divorced over an alleged affair when he was a child but still worked together, each holding power positions in Boston’s governing party. The Cohl’s practically owned the state—a title their sons were happy to tout. And with a political safety net like that, the Cohl boys got away with everything. Including throwing hedonistic parties full of underage drinking, sex and debauchery.

The Cohl boys were legends at Stanton Prep. They basically built the Golden dynasty. And their famous crown jewel? Their not-so-secret, secret masked balls. They were held at a different location every year at the end of the semester. And you couldn’t gain access unless you were given a coveted key. Of course Hannah had never been invited. She was pretty certain that the Goldens didn’t even know she existed. Harrison Cohl certainly didn’t. He was the youngest of the five Cohl boys and he would be graduating with Hannah in a few weeks. But not before throwing one last legendary party.

If Hannah could get an invite to the ball she would have no trouble making wild, carefree memories with her classmates. She reined in her excitement and focused back on the bickering girls.

“I’m going to be photographed more than a Kardashian when I show up on Harrison’s arm,” Blakely mussed.

“Not if I beat you to him!” Savannah sneered.

“Oh please, like either of you have a chance?”

“And you do, Madi?”

“I didn’t say I did. But you know Harrison always goes dateless so he can play his games. It’s half the fun of wearing a mask. Never knowing who’s with who . . . the allure of bedding a stranger . . . it’s all so romantic,” Madison sighed.

“Oh god, Madi, give it a rest. It’s not like you’re going to meet prince charming. Besides, everyone knows you’ve slept with the whole senior class by now so no one will be new to you,” Blakely retorted.

Savannah laughed, but Madison just smiled. “I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic. And how else is a princess to find her prince without trying them all?”

The three girls laughed.

“But seriously, I hope there’ll be some new blood at this ball,” Blakely whined.

“Well we know who won’t be there,” Savannah smirked,

Hannah followed Savannah’s line of sight to the slouched figure that strolled under the Golden Gate with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. His dark, shaggy locks fell like curtains over his face as if trying to hide his identity, but it was no use. Even if he wore a mask everyone would know Cody Matthews.

“Kill anyone today, Cody?” Blakely called.

Cody flipped her off without looking behind him.

Hannah shook her head at Blakely’s cruelty. It was true that Cody’s girlfriend died when he crashed his car. He’d been driving home from one of Harrison’s parties. He was drunk and lost control of the vehicle, slamming into a tree. It was quite the scandal, but not just because of the DUI. That happened quite often at Stanton. But Cody’s girlfriend, Elena, was pregnant. They were both Goldens, but had been dropped with alarming speed once the pregnancy rumor caught fire.

The snickering above called Hannah’s attention back to the vicious girls on the bridge. She wondered how they could be so cruel to one of their own. How did they not see that they could fall just as quickly as Cody had under the right circumstances?

“I don’t know what Elena ever saw in him,” Savannah scowled.

“I do. Tall, dark and handsome,” Madison quipped.

“And dangerous,” Savannah added.

“That just makes him sexier,” Madison purred.

“Well you can forget about it. Harrison would kill you if he sees you flirting with him. Besides, it’s not like he’ll be at the ball.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Blakely replied. “He still has his key from last year.”

“Only because he was locked up in rehab. There’s no way Harrison would honor his key.”

“He’d have to. There’s only two rules . . . a key gets you in, and your mask never comes off.”

Hannah smiled to herself as a plan started to unravel in her mind.