“Another punch to his nose?” Jeremy asked.
She smiled coyly. “Oh, I never told you that story?” She linked her arm with his once more and pulled him gently down the hall. She rested her head against his shoulder. “Well, a long time ago, I was a hero . . .”
***
He caught up with her at the end of the school day.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked, falling in step beside her.
She shifted her bag to the other shoulder and picked up her pace. “Around.”
“Around where? Where do you go at lunch?”
“Different places,” she replied.
Her noncommittal responses aggravated him.
“Yeah, I figured. I was asking for specifics,” he said.
She stopped abruptly. “Why? What do you care?”
“Uh, I’m your friend,” he replied.
She snorted.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
Before, he’d never pose the question. He’d accept her response for what it was. He wouldn’t try to understand. But his heart was changing—growing in love—and he discovered he cared. He cared for Hannah. He cared that she’d been absent for two weeks, and he wanted to know why.
“It’s not like you care or anything,” she said dismissively.
“Yeah, I do,” Jeremy replied.
She shuffled her feet. “You . . . you got your thing going on. I respect that. And I’m happy for you. I am. But I don’t care to be a third wheel in your freak show.” She glanced at him with a half grin.
“I don’t get it. You and I have been a freak show for years. What difference does it make if we bring in a third person?”
“Three’s a crowd.”
“But I thought you and Regan were friends,” he pointed out.
Another noncommittal grunt.
“You’re not friends?”
Pause.
“We tolerate each other,” Hannah said finally.
Another, slightly longer pause.
“Did something happen between you two?” Jeremy asked.
“So not discussing it,” Hannah replied, and pressed forward toward the student parking lot. Jeremy tagged along.
“What happened between you two?” he persisted.
“None of your business. And it’s freaking embarrassing, anyway. And I’ve no idea how you can’t know. The entire fucking school knows.”
“Who talks to me, Hannah, besides you?” he cried. “I never know anything!”
“Just as well.”
“Stop,” he said, pulling gently on her arm.
Only then did he notice the slight change in her eyes. They were decorated with a bit of eyeshadow and mascara. He stared at them—so bright. So pretty. He momentarily forgot his next statement.
“Yeah, I wore some make-up today,” she said. “Big fucking deal. I’m a girl, and girls wear make-up.”
“I like it,” he whispered. “I never knew your eyes were that blue.”
She squirmed uncomfortably. “Don’t say cheesy shit like that, Jer. It doesn’t suit you.”
He nodded and continued to stare.
“Stop looking at me!” Hannah snapped.
He shook his head. “Hannah, what happened between you and Regan?”
His deepest fear was that it involved bullying. He couldn’t imagine Regan would ever mistreat someone, but if Hannah was unwilling to address it—as victims of bullying are wont to do—then he’d have to face an ugly truth about his dream girl.
He held his breath. Hannah eyed him strangely.
“Your perfect girlfriend didn’t do anything wrong, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said.
He exhaled long and loud. Hannah rolled her eyes and then had a change of heart.
“Well, she ran her mouth to Casey, which started the downward spiral, but I don’t think she did it with the intention of fueling gossip. I don’t think she knew how evil her best friend was. Which, by the way, is a really disgusting trait of hers—to be so na?ve.”
“Cryptic,” Jeremy said patiently.
“All right, all right.” Hannah hesitated. “I kissed her.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up. They finally arrived at Hannah’s car on the far side of the massive parking lot, and she opened her door.
“What the hell? You don’t think you’re leaving, do you?” he asked.
She laughed. “No, dummy. Get in. I’ll drive you to work.”
Hannah recounted the story on the short drive to Roy’s.
“Ninth grade. I was crying in the bathroom because I didn’t understand why all these girls weren’t talking to me anymore. They talked to me in eighth grade. What the hell changed? And then Regan comes in and asks me what’s wrong, and I really didn’t want to tell her because she was one of them—”
“She was mean to you?” Jeremy asked.
“No, she wasn’t mean. But she hung out with them, so she just stopped talking to me. I mean, every now and then she’d say hi, but we weren’t, like, friends or anything.”
Jeremy nodded.
“So anyway, I’m crying and she’s asking me what’s wrong, and before I know it, she’s hugging me. It felt . . . good. And then she pulled away and wiped my tears, and I took it as an invitation.”
“Is that usually how it goes with girls?” Jeremy asked. “I mean, if they’re interested in each other? They wipe each other’s tears?”
Hannah snorted. “You’re an idiot.”
“Well, how should I know?” Jeremy cried defensively.
“No, that’s not how it goes between lesbians. I misread the signs. I kissed her, and she just froze for a second, and then she pulled away and told me I had the wrong idea.”
Jeremy said nothing.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know I was gay,” she said, pulling into an empty parking space.
“I never thought about it,” Jeremy admitted. “And it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway.”
“Well, that’s because you’re a nice guy and because you’re wrapped up in your own shittastic life,” Hannah replied.
Jeremy chuckled.
“Well, I’ll amend that. What used to be your shittastic life,” Hannah said. “You’ve got the girl now, so . . .”
“My whole world doesn’t revolve around her,” Jeremy pointed out.
Hannah burst out laughing. “You’re such a bad liar, Jer.”
He said nothing.