Love Letters to the Dead

Hannah looked down. I could tell she was still angry.

Then she just laughed, suddenly, although nothing was funny. She laughed like she was making the only sound that could cover everything up. “I really can’t be here today,” she said. “Do you want to go somewhere?” The first bell hadn’t even rung.

“Okay.”

So we snuck off campus and walked to Garcia’s and ordered taquitos for breakfast, sitting on the stoop of a drive-in spot. We used my cell phone and each called the office, pretended to be the other’s parents calling us in sick. That’s not the kind of thing that you can get away with often, but we’d only ever ditched eighth period before, and we hoped we’d get lucky this time. We made sure to wait a few minutes in between so that it would be less suspicious.

When our order came, Hannah pulled a little airplane-sized bottle of vodka out of her purse and started to unscrew it. “Wanna spike your limeade?” she asked.

“No,” I said, alarmed. “It’s barely nine o’clock.”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she said, and laughed. “Like in Norway. Think it’s five o’clock in Norway? I wish I were in Norway. Or Iceland. Or somewhere really far away.” She started to try to pour the vodka into my drink and said, “Come on. Lighten up.”

“Stop it,” I said, and grabbed the bottle.

“Since when did you get all high and mighty?” she asked, annoyed.

“I just—I’m not really drinking now,” I said, “after what happened at that party.”

“You mean after you opened the door on Natalie and me and then decided to ditch us?”

“The reason that I disappeared was that I was messed up.” Then I blurted it out. “Basically Evan Friedman almost raped me. I took some pill that he gave me. He said it was a caffeine pill, but obviously it was something else.”

“Laurel. Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me? Are you all right?”

“I guess so,” I said. “Finally I shoved him off. And then Sky came in.”

“I think I have to murder Evan,” Hannah said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you before. I mean, I’m sorry I don’t talk about stuff that much.” I paused a moment. “Honestly, it’s because of something that happened with my sister.”

Hannah listened as I told her what happened with Paul and Billy and the night that May died. She hugged me when it was over and said how sorry she was. Tears were running down her face.

Then she said, “I guess I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t tell you the truth after you told me all of that.” She looked away for a moment and took the sleeve of her sweatshirt and started to wipe away the fake bruise she had drawn on her face with eye shadow. Her hand was shaking. Underneath there was a real one, yellow and fading. I reached out to touch her arm.

“Was it Jason?” I asked softly.

Hannah nodded. “He was so angry after the party.”

“Has he done that before?”

She shrugged. “Not in a while.”

“We have to do something, Hannah.”

“There’s nothing to do.”

“Have you told your grandparents?”

She shook her head no. “It would just hurt them. My grandma’s sick, and my grandpa has to take care of her. He can hardly even hear when I try to talk to him. I never wanted anyone finding out, because what if they put me in a foster home or something? Or else I’d have to go back to Arizona to my aunt, and then I’d lose Natalie for good, and you, too, and everyone. Jason’s finally going to the Marines in a few months. It’s better just to wait.”

“Natalie doesn’t know?” I asked.

“I’ve never told anyone.”

“You should tell her, Hannah.”

“She’d freak out. She’d want me to talk to someone. Besides, she hates me now anyway.”

“No she doesn’t. You know that. She’s in love with you. Her heart is broken, that’s all.”

“Do you think that I can unbreak it?”

“I think all she wants is for you to love her back, like she loves you.” I paused. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” she said softly.

“Then tell her. Please?”

Hannah nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do you want to spend the night tonight? If you need somewhere to stay, you can always stay at my house.”

“Really?”