Chapter 3
Hannah hates summer. She hates the sun, she hates her weird non-tan lines, and she hates how happy and tan everyone looks. She hates that she had to leave Everwood at the worst possible time because her mother couldn't manage on her own. Hannah packed her own bags in a hurry, just after leaving Bright. The funny little feeling from kissing him was gone. She was angry now. 'You left me on my own for about five years - I took care of myself and while you were at the hospital with Dad and when you were having your nervous breakdowns and couldn't stand to look at me for weeks at a time because I reminded you of him. I could manage on my own.' she thought aloud, a tear sliding down her cheek.
She prefers to spend her summers in her room, reading in the air conditioning with her curtains drawn. Or Everwood. Preferably both, with Bright. When evening came and the sun stopped being so sunny she would go for a walk.
Sometimes she sat with her father, in his unusually stuffy room, his hands clinched into fists and jaw set. He liked it like that, his room. The curtains open, the sun leaking through. Sometimes he'd let Hannah pull up the windows to let some fresh air in. But with the doctors being around lately, she resorted to waiting outside of his room, receiving uncomfortable glances from foreign doctors. Sudden, sick tensions surround everything that walks into that room. She hasn't asked, she's given them all their space, but she's pretty sure that it's still her fault.
Lately, she's been walking through the park, when the sun is out, watching mothers collecting grimy children and nodding to the old lady who always sat on the third bench, throwing bread at nonexistent birds. She sometimes wishes that she was a grimy child, having a normal childhood. But mostly, she would just walk in general, feeling the heat from the sidewalk swirling around her ankles as the air brushing her face started to cool off with the sinking sun. And even that made her think of Everwood.
That was the majority of her summer, the benefits of free time and lazy days without any of the hassle of overly happy people and oppressive heat. It was her routine, and on some level, Hannah liked routine. Which was why she couldn't figure out why the hell she was sitting in the Abbot's backyard, baking in the midday sun and letting Bright drive her ever closer to the brink of insanity.
Stupid, happy Bright. Stupid, happy Bright who was pretending that them not seeing each other for a good two months didn't happen at all, and is smiling and tan, and getting progressively tanner, stretched on a hammock, her lying beside him. When he turns onto his stomach, he let's out a little sigh.
"I love you," Bright says
Hannah has missed Bright. She's missed all their weird conversations over sometimes the most random things, sitting next to him at the Abbot dinner table, the funny feeling she gets from being around him. But she can't say it.
"I know you do." Hannah replies, disappointed that she can't say exactly the same back.
All rights go to the producers of Everwood, blah, blah, blah. I'm so not trying to get sued because I've forgotten to mention that.
It's officially my summer so you'll be getting more chapters more often. Hopefully you like it. Another update is soon to come! - Carla