“It’s all fake,” I emphasized. “And I’m really sorry to do this to you but you can’t tell a soul.”
She rolled her eyes. “Who am I going to tell? I spend my days with Oliver Twist, Harry Potter, and Daisy Buchanan. My second-best friend, besides you, is Jane Austen. Your secret is safe.”
Relief settled in my chest. It was Hannah, and I knew I could trust her. I felt lighter, like my heavy backpack of fake-relationship bullshit had been set down for a few minutes.
“Thank you. Oh,” I remembered, “wedding dress shopping. Can you please come with me? It’s next weekend.”
Her face lit up. “Sure, I’d love to.”
“Okay, good.” I leaned over and gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, Han. You’re the best, you know that?”
We said our goodbyes and I went inside. Moments after I stepped in the door, my pho
