Note: I'm really irritated because when I upload, the page breaks don't show. I'm sorry if this seems jumbled around. Just know that when scenes change, I did have them broken up. Honestly, I die a little inside every time I see it without page breaks.
Chapter 14
Hannah felt like a coward after she managed to get out of waiting with Julie after school, lamenting that she had a headache. It wasn't a lie, but it certainly wasn't as bad as she made it seem. Days had gone by and Hannah was running out of excuses. Julie obviously wanted the company.
"How long do these practices last again?" Hannah asked, biting the inside of her cheek. She was already regretting her decision to attend. She was still reeling from her last encounter with Tim. The thought of him leaning against the locker, lips curling upward in a mischievous grin before turning away from her and warning her. Be careful what you wish for, Robertson.
Hannah did not wish for this. Well, she didn't wish to suffer the torture of his hot and cold persona, going from flirty one minute to entirely aloof the next. Maybe she was a masochist. Clearly, if she was planning to attend the practice still, she must be seeking some form of torture.
What would he do? The question caused Hannah's palms to sweat as she imagined all the antics headed her way. He knew she got flustered when he flirted. He had to. Tim was much more observant than Hannah had originally thought. What had he seen in her expression when she'd teased him earlier? He must have seen right through the false bravado. She had startled herself at her boldness and immediately regretted it, not feeling confident enough to pull it off.
After all, she was no rally girl. And she certainly was no Lyla.
"It'll probably go until about six-thirty. Maybe seven. Why….?" Julie frowned a bit, as if she could read Hannah's thoughts.
"Maybe I shouldn't go. I've got a lot of homework to do, and that Dickens essay isn't going to write itself."
Julie raised a brow. "The Dickens essay is not due for another week and a half, Hannah."
"Always best to not procrastinate." Julie didn't need to know that Hannah was a professional procrastinator who had mastered the art many years ago. Especially on essays. She worked best under pressure.
"You're not getting out of it. I refuse to allow it."
Julie pulled out a perfume bottle from her bag. Hannah couldn't tell if the bottle was pink, or the liquid inside was. Julie sprayed herself twice and then turned the bottle on Hannah, spraying her chest and neck.
"Hey!" Hannah swatted her arms, as if she could bat the scent away.
"Just wanted you to smell extra nice in case…" Julie grinned.
"I don't know what you're insinuating, but the answer is no, regardless," Hannah muttered. She inhaled deeply and sighed, smelling the peony in her skin and shirt.
Approaching 4:45 PM, the sun had not yet set over the school, as if it too wanted to watch them work harder. There was the unmistakable smell of astroturf, sweat, dying grass, and the hot metal of the bleachers. It was silent, except for a few grunts, cleats scraping, helmuts clunking, and Coach Taylor's occasional sigh of disappointment.
Julie had insisted that she and Hannah sit in the front row of the bleachers, despite Hannah's protests. She didn't think she could handle being so close to Tim yet. Not after earlier. Hannah took out her phone and attempted to look as disinterested as she could, refusing to look up in case she met Tim's gaze.
"Are you pretending to text by typing on the calculator?"
Hannah bristled, noticing Julie had leaned over her shoulder.
"I–no. Of course not. I was just trying to figure out how to split my time between homework assignments for the rest of the week." Hannah felt the heat rising on her face, knowing that her obvious lie had not been convincing.
But Julie said nothing. She gave a little snort and shook her head, turning back to the players.
Hannah was quite proud of herself with how well she had avoided watching Tim. She hadn't realized she had such strong willpower, especially with the knowledge that Tim was running around in a practice jersey, hair damp with sweat, huffing and puffing in exhaustion as he put his full weight into slamming another player to the ground. Damn him. Hannah shook her head as soon as she felt her eyes start sliding towards him. How ridiculous that she needed to physically tell herself to stop.
"What's up, ladies? How's the view?" Landry, face now bright red from running around, lifted an arm and waved. He immediately winced upon doing so.
"I'm enjoying it," Julie said, glancing quickly at Matt. He had heard the comment, as Hannah watched him blush a little before looking down at the ground. God, they were so cute it made Hannah slightly nauseous.
"What about you, Hannah Robertson? Enjoying the view?" She couldn't place a face to the voice, but she had an inkling that she had heard it before. From where, she could not say. She searched for the source of the voice and landed on a boy who was currently lifting up his shirt to wipe across his brow.
It was Derek, the boy who had poured her a drink at Smash's party. Hannah's thoughts briefly went to the events preceding that party and those that followed shortly thereafter in a certain clearing, bright headlights outlining two bodies. She quickly snapped out of the memory and looked back at Derek.
He was cute, to be sure. She hadn't really noticed the first time she spoke with him, her mind on much heavier topics. Clearly, modesty was not in his vocabulary, and it was obvious he was used to people ogling him. He lifted his shirt again unnecessarily to wipe his forehead, as if daring her to look. His jaw and cheekbones were sharp. His build was wider and thicker than Tim's, but there was no mistaking the muscle underneath the padding. He had a boyish charm when he grinned, and his hair was wild as if he had just rolled out of bed. Hannah supposed that this was a guy who had his pick of girls and relished in the competition. So, it begged the question, why was he talking to her? There was no alcohol to explain this time.
"It's tolerable," she said, giving him a half smile.
"Ouch." Derek placed a hand over his heart. "Any way I can make it more than just tolerable? I want to make sure our audience is thoroughly entertained."
Goodness, he was a flirt. A small part of her enjoyed the banter, and when he looked at her like that, she did feel a little flutter in her stomach. But she questioned whether this was really because of him, or if it was because she was not used to flattery–or any special attention– unless it was related to a well-written essay or acing a pop quiz. With this realization, Hannah began to feel quite pathetic, and the frustration she felt towards herself almost resulted in a retort that would surely have sent the boy off.
But then she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Someone was watching the interaction. Hannah felt a spark of excitement and a sly expression briefly crossed her face. She realized she could have the upperhand in this situation. This could make up for her embarrassment by the locker. And, the guy was pretty easy on the eyes, after all. This could be an interesting theory to test. A very interesting theory, Hannah thought.
"I don't know, but I'd be disappointed if you didn't try harder." Hannah didn't recognize her own voice. It was lower in pitch, a few syllables lingering a little longer than necessary. What, she has the attention of one boy and suddenly she's the heroine in a dark romance novel? Hardly.
It was obvious that at least one person enjoyed it. Derek raised his brows briefly and then smirked, satisfied that she was playing along.
"You know, I just realized I can't remember which of them are on my team this time. What do you say, boys, shirts versus skins?" Derek removed his shirt. Hannah bit the inside of her lip, unsure if she was feeling flustered because of the view or if she was disgusted. Now she remembered why she didn't like jocks. They might have been big guys, but their inflated egos were even bigger. Not to mention, wouldn't he still need all the pads of protection?
Before she thought too long on that, she glanced to her right and noticed Tim was refilling his water cup, but was observing the interaction rather intently. Interesting. He raised the cup to his mouth, but his eyes peered at her over the rim.
Hannah stood up and walked towards the gate separating the bleachers from the field. "Here," she said, holding out her hand. "I'll keep an eye on your jersey while you guys finish up."
Derek moved a little too enthusiastically as he walked over to Hannah. As he placed the jersey in her grip, he brushed a finger along hers. "You smell really nice," he said. Oh, Julie…Surely this was not what she had intended when she sprayed Hannah.
This was enough. She didn't want to push it. And her attempts would be obvious to Tim. Hannah placed the jersey on her lap as she sat back down, then quickly moved it to the bench beside her, grimacing. It was cold and wet with sweat.
"Evans, where is your damn shirt?" Coach Taylor pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Shirts versus skins, Coach," he replied matter-of-factly.
"If you don't put your jersey and pads back on, you're not gettin' them back for the rest of the year. You can sit with the rest of the crowd up there." Coach Taylor pointed in the direction of the two girls.
That got Derek's attention. He took off towards the bleachers. Hannah had already stood up, feeling embarrassed on his behalf, and handed the jersey back to him.
"Guess I'll have to find another time to take it off," he whispered. Hannah desperately fought the urge to gag. One conversation and he was already going down that route. She gritted her teeth and turned around swiftly before he could see how she really felt. Truly, they were all the same.
She saw in the distance as Landry tripped over a water jug, falling face first. He made a low "hmph" as he landed. Well, almost all of them were the same…
Hannah remained quiet for the rest of practice, occasionally taking out her phone to "figure out how to divide her study time." At one point, she even opened up the Terms and Conditions for her weather app.
The sun had finally gone down, and Coach Taylor blew his whistle, calling everyone back. "Alright, that's enough for today. I know you're all real tired, but we could all use the extra push to make up for our past mistakes. That game was the first and last time we miss our opportunity for State." A few of the guys mumbled their agreement. "Okay, then. Hit the showers. You all reek."
As Hannah and Julie made their way down to the field to greet Matt and Landry, Hannah felt a hand on her shoulder. Her heart fluttered for a moment, hoping.
She turned. Derek gave her a lazy smile. "I was hopin' to catch you before you left."
"Oh?" It was all she could think to say.
"Thanks for keeping my jersey safe. I know it was in very good hands. Never thought I'd be jealous of a shirt." Hannah felt a rush of heat go up her neck, but quickly doused it out. "So, a few of us are gonna go to a little tailgate party at the park across from Tommy 's Burgers tonight. I was thinkin' you could come with me. What d'ya say?"
This took Hannah aback. Admittedly, she did not think her poor attempts at flirting would actually work. Now she was regretting ever trying. Tailgating was the last thing she wanted to do. But then she felt a certain piercing gaze on her again, and she felt her resolve strengthen.
"I'm assuming you'll pick me up?"
Derek's smile widened. "Yes, ma'am."
"Julie and Matt will come too," she said quickly. There was no way she'd go alone.
Derek's smile faded for the briefest moment, but then returned. "The more, the merrier!"
"Great, we'll wait here while you guys get cleaned up." She hoped her disgust from smelling his sweat was not written all over her face.
It wasn't, thankfully, or at the very least, Derek hadn't noticed.
Hannah turned and met Julie's puzzled expression. "We'll just stay long enough to make an impression and then we'll bounce," Hannah whispered, and shrugged her shoulders.
"Oh, I think you already made an impression, Hannah." Julie raised her eyebrows up and down.
Hannah chuckled nervously. "I don't know how or why, but, yeah, I guess I did. And honestly, I'm not sure if I'm proud or horrified with myself."
Suddenly, Julie looked past Hannah and straightened her posture before flashing a quick smile and walking away to find Matt.
Hannah would have followed if she hadn't felt the sudden shift in the air around her, as if something–or someone–was a hair's breadth away.
"Derek, huh?" A voice said behind her.
Hannah felt a tingle up her spine, immediately recognizing the voice. She quickly schooled her face into a neutral expression and turned to face him. It was a mistake.
Tim's arms were crossed over his chest, eyes sparkling underneath his thick eyebrows, which were currently furrowed. A few strands of his long hair clung to his forehead. He looked….What was that expression she saw?
"I don't know what you mean," Hannah said cooly, copying his posture and crossing her arms.
"What are you doin', Hannah?" He looked irritated. No, not irritated. Angry.
"I'm minding my own business. Perhaps you should try it." Please don't, she thought.
Tim's jaw tightened and he narrowed his eyes. "You do know he's slept with like every girl in this school."
Hannah raised a brow. "Not every girl…" She let those words hang in the air as if there were more to come. As if she was going to say not yet. Tim didn't need to know that she had absolutely no interest in being Derek's latest conquest.
Tim scoffed. "Come on, Hannah. You're smarter than that. So, I'll ask again, what are you doing?"
"You're one to talk, Riggins. Your reputation isn't exactly squeaky clean."
He stiffened and she noticed that one of his hands had balled into a fist. "But do you see me tryin' to coax you into bed? No."
Okay, that hurt. Hannah was very aware of how much Tim preferred to NOT coax her into bed. Hot shame filled her throat and she knew if she didn't get out of there soon, she was going to embarrass herself further.
"Oh, don't worry, you've made yourself abundantly clear with that. I'm just glad you saved me the energy of turning you down. So, do us both a favor, and leave me alone." She turned on her heels and walked away, careful not to walk too fast. He didn't need to see how much his comments had affected her.
In truth, Hannah had already started thinking of ways to get out of going to the tailgate party as soon as Derek walked away. But now….now there would be no stopping her from going. She'd be there all damn night if that's what it took to prove a point.
And how dare he? she thought. The nerve of him. "Asshole," she muttered under her breath. So, what, first she wasn't good enough for him and now she was apparently not smart enough to keep her legs closed with a random football player? It wasn't any of his business. This had started as harmless fun to see if she could get a rise out of him, even for the briefest of moments. Just to see if something sparked. Not anymore. Now she was just pissed off and hurt. But she refused to let him see how much his words hurt her.
She was going to that damn park tonight.
Hannah would have hardly called the location of the party a park. Patches of grass were scattered here and there. To be honest, it seemed there were more crushed cans than blades of grass. What was once a swingset was now just a set of bars with missing swings. Neon green and black graffiti was sprayed on the metal slide in words Hannah could not make out. There was only one plastic blue table for picnics, and one of the benches bent inward, making it impossible to sit on.
"Beer?" Derek asked, gesturing to the cooler beside him. He and Hannah were sitting on a pair of foldable chairs. Most of the people there were strangers, though she recognized a few from passing them in the hallways. Julie and Matt sat on the other side of her, and they looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. A twinge of guilt twisted in her stomach. They were true friends for putting up with this for her…what? Lame attempt at revenge? She would have to make it up to them somehow.
"I'm good, thanks." Hannah tried to keep the disdain out of her voice. Her introduction to alcohol had not been a pleasant one. She was not looking to relive that night.
"Gotta keep a straight head to keep those grades up, huh?" Derek nudged her with his elbow. "You're different from the other rally girls. Props to you." He tossed back the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand and throwing it over his shoulder.
Hannah recoiled slightly at the comparison. "I am not a rally girl, Derek."
"Oh. I just thought…" He trailed off.
She was getting irritated now. "You thought what?"
"Well, you were helpin' Riggins out with his homework and stuff. That's what all the rally girls do. So, I guess you were a rally girl just for him, then?" Pain. There had to be a knife piercing her chest right now. "Although, if you're open to it, I know someone else you can be an exclusive rally girl for. And you won't even have to do homework." The look he gave her was devious.
This was the kind of smile Hannah could tell usually made girls crumble before him. He was good. But, unfortunately not good enough. No one's smile made her crumble. Well, almost no one.
"I was not doing anyone's homework. I was tutoring at the request of Principal Taylor. That's all."
She thought this would deflate whatever thought bubble had formed in his mind, but instead, he appeared pleased.
"Good to know. So, I don't have to worry about sharing you with anyone." The amount of effort it took for Hannah to keep herself from rolling her eyes deserved a ribbon or plaque. This was the last person she would ever share herself with. Even Landry seemed more appealing at this point. And yet, if she was being honest with herself, if a certain boy with shoulder-length hair and permanent smirk said it, she would have folded immediately.
Hannah tried her best to smile at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. "And yet I'm fairly certain I'd be sharing you with several rally girls."
"Jealous?" he quipped. Ha.
"I've never been one to share." With the way his eyes darkened, she knew he liked that comment. She had not intended for him to take it that way. She was trying to turn him down in a roundabout way. She had failed, obviously. She was going to have to wash her mouth out with soap after this conversation ended.
"Hey, Han? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Julie touched Hannah's elbow.
It was a welcome touch, and Hannah stood up immediately. She and Julie walked farther away from the group until it was safe to speak above a whisper.
"Are you…into Derek?" Julie looked pained even suggesting it.
"Hard pass."
That made Julie smile, but it soon changed to a look of confusion. "Then what are we doing here? What are you doing?"
"Entertaining myself. Having free drinks." Hannah shrugged, but Julie didn't look convinced. "Avoiding all my problems. You know, the usual."
Julie leaned closer and whispered, despite the distance from the group. "I saw Tim come up to you after practice. What was that about? Does it have anything to do with this?" She gestured around them.
At the sound of his name, she felt as if someone had reached in and squeezed her heart. She knew Julie wouldn't tell anybody, but Hannah couldn't bring herself to share. She was embarrassed at the blatant rejection. She knew Julie wouldn't judge, but still. If she kept it a secret, she could pretend like it didn't happen.
"I would really prefer to not talk about Tim. He gets enough attention as it is."
Hannah did not wait for Julie to respond before she tugged on her friend's arm to guide her back to the group. At the mention of his name, she was now replaying their last conversation over and over. Maybe she should have that beer.
Derek had tried every trick in the book to get Hannah to agree to letting him drive her home. None of them worked. After what seemed like an eternity, Derek finally relented. Matt would be driving the girls home.
And it wasn't just because she was avoiding any kind of intimacy with the guy. She also didn't want anyone else to see how empty her house was now. How lifeless it was.
Her father had not been home in three days, not bothering to check on her under the assumption that she was at the Taylors'.
Derek had taken Hannah's phone out of her hand and texted himself.
"Text me anytime," he said in a sultry voice, and winked before heading to his own truck.
Hannah went to immediately block his number, but stopped herself. Maybe she should keep it, just in case. For what, she wasn't sure. But something told her to leave it alone.
When Matt and Julie had arrived at Hannah's house, the lie she had repeated several times now rolled off her tongue. "My dad's here. He's just been heading to bed early. Might be getting a cold." She had to say just enough to ensure that they wouldn't come inside to check. Germs seemed to do the trick.
Once she set everything down inside the foyer of the house and changed into an oversized sweatshirt and shorts, she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She strummed her fingers on the door while she peered inside. Three slices of bread, an almost-empty carton of milk that may or may not have expired, and every condiment known to mankind. She checked the pantry. Instant rice that expired four months ago, stale crackers, and a jar of peanut butter. "Toast it is," she said out loud.
Whenever Hannah stayed home, she was never able to get a good night's rest. She tossed and turned in bed all night, kicking the covers off of her, then covering up again when she got too cold. The cracks and creaking of the older house put her on edge, and she felt herself startle anytime she thought she heard something. Perhaps she shouldn't have started watching scary movies at a young age.
The next morning, utterly exhausted, eyes still half-closed, and hair unsalvageable, Hannah hopped into the shower and gave her scalp a good scrub. It was one of the best feelings in the world, especially for someone who always had a headache. Once she finished her shower, immediately began twisting pieces of her hair into a French braid. One of the only braids she knew how to do.
Sometimes, when her hair grew too long and she attempted the braid, she would stare at herself in the mirror and imagine that she lived with the Amish. How much easier life would be. Except for the lack of air conditioning. Regardless, she certainly looked the part. The thought made her huff out a low laugh. She had taken to bullying herself in the morning for a few years now, hoping that doing so would lessen the blow if others tried later. The thought made her sad, and suddenly everything sad that had ever happened to her began flashing through her mind. Why did she torture herself like this? Did she think she deserved it? Though logic told her no, she couldn't bring herself to actually answer the question.
She didn't bother putting on a full face of makeup, but just enough to not look like walking death. She had no interest in drawing attention to herself today. She hoped it would be enough to make Derek think twice about approaching her.
Whenever she felt terrible on the inside, her natural reaction was to match it on the outside. Feeling shitty? Look shitty, no one cares anyway. The dark thoughts clouding her mind were becoming a little too overpowering, and she knew if she didn't distract herself, she'd start to cry. She didn't want to cry. She hated when someone saw her cry. How desperately she wished to be one of those people who didn't care about anything but their own amusement.
What was it like walking around not hating oneself? Not even disliking oneself? She tried to think back to a time when she was one of those people. The only memories that popped up were all at an age where she was still learning multiplication and division.
She hated everything and everyone. No, that wasn't true, she told herself. She didn't hate Julie, or Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. She didn't hate Matt or Landry–despite how annoying he could be. She didn't hate…
She couldn't bring herself to even think of the name.
But she did hate the way she felt all the time. All the anger and disappointment and feelings of inadequacy that stayed with her day and night. And while she didn't want to admit it, she hated feeling like she was the only one struggling, and everyone else had at least one good thing going for them. She knew that was selfish and immature. Why was she like this?
Hannah had chosen to leave the house early and walk to school. Given that she had no sense of direction, she gripped her phone tightly, using the map application to guide her every step of the way. It wasn't quite warm yet, but it wasn't cold either. There was still dew covering the lawns she passed, and the humidity was just starting to seep through the air.
She attempted to blend in with the walls and lockers and she walked through the hallways to each class. Hannah kept her head down and watched her feet, partially to ensure she didn't trip over anything, and partly because she didn't want to make eye contact with anyone.
Though Julie had seen that Hannah was in a bad way, she was kind enough to not push her into opening up. Instead, she merely offered to eat lunch with Hannah somewhere else, away from the crowd of people in the cafeteria. But Hannah didn't want this to be a one-sided friendship. Julie had already done so much. She wouldn't continue to allow her to give up her own enjoyment to witness Hannah's pity party. So, Hannah braced herself and strode into the cafeteria with Julie at her side.
Despite her lack of appetite, Hannah bought a banana and bag of chips to appease Julie, who only scowled at her choice of lunch. Popping a chip in her mouth, Hannah's eyes scanned the room, searching. She hoped he wouldn't be there. She also hoped he would.
Disappointment and a small thrill filled her stomach with an odd coiling when she saw him. Tim was leaning back in a chair with his arms up, fingers laced and resting on top of his head. He was smiling. Normally, it would have been a sight Hannah could stare at for hours. But not this time. Not when the smile was clearly as a result of the person sitting next to him. Someone with long legs, beautiful skin, and pouty lips. Someone who she had thought was no longer speaking to him.
Lyla.
Hannah watched as Lyla trailed a finger along Tim's forearm up to his shoulder, neck, and across his jaw. She used her finger to pull his face in her direction so he would have to look at her.
Had someone turned up the heater in the cafeteria? Or perhaps closed the vents to prevent filtered air from coming in? It was suddenly stiflingly hot. No one else seemed to have this reaction, so this couldn't be the case. What's more, someone had clearly just taken a knife from the cafeteria kitchen and put it through her chest, so why wasn't anyone running and screaming for help? How was no one else aware of the carnage before them? She had just been gutted right there for everyone to see.
Don't cry, don't stare. Don't cry, don't stare, she repeated in her head over and over and she tried to catch her breath and muster enough strength to stand up and walk outside.
By some miracle, and despite the gaping hole in her chest where her heart once lived, she managed to leave the cafeteria. She might have heard someone saying her name from the table, but she ignored it.
She was so stupid. She should have known. Why had she thought any differently? Since when did someone like him ever want to be with someone like her? It had never made sense. Yet she had held on to some ridiculous notion that one day, after they had been friends for a while, he might start to see her in a different light. That was why she had decided to withstand the pain and continue tutoring him.
So, Hannah did something she had never done before, that she was always too scared to ever attempt. She decided to skip her remaining classes, and she left without looking back.
It wasn't until she arrived back home that she realized it was Tuesday.