Chapter 5
Hanna
The end of the school day couldn't come soon enough. I reached my locker moments after the bell rang, releasing us from class, and I glanced behind me to the closed office door while I reached for my flask under the books in the back of my locker.
"Hey, Hanna!" Alison's voice chimed behind me.
I plopped my flask into my purse before she could see it, and I turned to her. "Hey."
"Do you need a ride home?" Ali asked.
"Yeah, if you don't mind." I brushed my hair over my shoulder. "Aria is staying back to talk to Mr. Fitz."
"No problem. Em has swim practice. I figured we could pick up Spencer and go get something to eat." Ali shrugged. "If you wanted."
"Sure." I shut my locker and joined her. We walked down the hall and I glanced at her. "Hey, your brother didn't say anything to you, did he?"
"About what?" Ali's brow creased with lines.
"Nothing." I shook my head.
"Han?" She pushed the door open and shot me a questioning look as we walked to her car.
I held up my hand. "It's nothing. Seriously."
"Okay. If you say so." She led the way to her car, and we both climbed in.
I scouted the area as she pulled out of the parking lot looking for the familiar car, but I didn't see it anywhere. We sparsely talked on the drive over, and we arrived at Spencer's house in less than fifteen minutes. As we pulled around the curb to her driveway, I jumped forward in the seat as I spotted the car parked at the end of the drive way.
"What is it?" Alison slammed on the brakes.
"That car!" I pointed. "I saw it outside my house and then outside our school."
"Hanna, you're being paranoid. It probably just belongs to a family friend or something." Alison rested her hand on my shoulder. "It's fine."
I sat back in the seat but didn't speak. We continued to the house and parked behind Spencer's father's car. We got out and knocked at the door. Spencer opened the door and stood in front of us. Her eyes widened as they rested on me. "Oh Hanna! Ali! What are you doing here?"
"We were coming to see if you wanted to go get something to eat," Alison replied.
I craned my neck around Spencer to get a glimpse in her house. Her father and my mom stood between the kitchen and the living room, and Jason sat on the chaise lounge wearing a darkly confused expression. A blonde woman sat across from him with a thick book in her lap. She must've been the owner of the car.
"Um . . . yeah, sure," Spencer turned to grab her bag.
I pushed past her and stormed into the house.
"Hanna!" Spencer and Alison shouted after me.
Everyone faced me with wide eyes as I halted before the woman and pointed, "Are you the owner of that car? What the fuck are you doing following me?"
"Hanna." Spencer grabbed my arm. "Now's not the time."
"The hell it's not! This bitch has been following me! I have a right to say something about it whenever I want!" I jerked my arm free from her grasp and faced the woman again. "What the fuck is your problem? Huh?"
"Hanna," Alison grabbed my hand, "Come on. Let's get you out of here. Spencer, help me."
"What the hell?" I spat and pushed her off me. I stepped back and looked between her and the others. "What the fuck is going on? Why do you want to get me out of here so bad?"
"Let's just go somewhere and talk." Spencer pleaded.
"What? No!" I looked between Spencer and Alison. "Do you two know what's going on here? Why this bitch has been following me?" I looked back at Jason. "Wait! Did you say something to them?"
"What? Hanna, no," Spencer replied.
"Then what the fuck is going on?" I yelled.
My mom rested her hand against her chest. "Just tell her."
The blonde woman sat the book she held on the coffee table, and she stood. "Hanna, my name is Buffy."
"Congrats, not my question though." I replied.
"I'm a Slayer. I was the Slayer." Buffy motioned with her hands as she spoke. "Then a prophecy was unearthed and we learned that my time has passed. There is a new Slayer, a last Slayer and a new, last Watcher along with that. You're that Slayer, and Jason . . . he's your Watcher."
I didn't speak. I looked at her and then to Jason and finally to the book she left on the coffee table. It was bound in an elaborately carved cover with the word, 'Vampyr' embossed on the cover in gold. "You're fucking nuts."
"That's what I thought too when I was first told. But have you been having nightmares?" Buffy stepped forward.
I shrugged. "I've always had nightmares. Big deal."
"I'm sorry." She frowned. "But these would be different. Filled with blood and death."
"Like I said, I've always had nightmares." I stepped back so she couldn't reach me.
"Hanna," my mom spoke.
I spun toward her. "What? You can't believe this bullshit?" I looked to Jason. "You believe her?"
"Han," Ali and Spencer both began.
"No! This isn't real!" I yelled. "How can you guys believe this crap?" No one replied. I turned back to the blonde woman. "You know, if this gig ever falls through, you'd be a great used car salesman. Is Buffy even your real name?"
"Hanna," Buffy took another step toward me. "I know—."
I held up my hand. "No, don't come near me. I don't need to catch your crazy like everyone else here. And no, you don't know. You don't know shit about me." I dropped my hand and looked around to everyone. "I'm leaving. Don't follow me."
I turned and Spencer and Alison stepped in front of my path.
"Move," I commanded. They didn't budge. I shoved my way through them and stormed out of the house. Once outside, I grabbed my purse from Alison's car and dug the flask out of the bottom and drank it until it ran dry. I rested against the side of her car for only a moment until a thought of Jason's dark expression invaded my mind. I tucked the flask into my pocket along with a fake I.D. and a wad of cash, and I left my purse at Ali's car before running down the driveway. I started to walk past the black muscle car at the bottom of the driveway, but then I stopped and returned to it. I climbed in the driver's seat and flipped down the sun visor, and the keys fell into my lap. I started the car and backed out of the driveway and began my drive to the nearest bar or liquor store, whichever happened to come first.
