AFTER HER SHOWER, Hannah felt better. She had vigorously scrubbed herself with a loofah, washing away Lauren’s lies, the secrets her parents had kept from her and from each other. Her mom and dad were gone when she went downstairs, off to their lawyer’s office to discuss their vindication. Hannah should practice the piano, or do math review, or even some squats and planks, but she wasn’t going to squander a couple of hours of freedom. She found her tablet and opened Netflix.
She was halfway through an episode of Breaking Bad when the doorbell startled her out of Walter White’s seedy world. Her first thought was that she’d been caught slacking off, but her parents wouldn’t ring the bell. She hurried to the door and opened it to reveal Caitlin.
“Hey . . .” Hannah was confused by the ginger girl’s presence.
“Mr. Morrel gave me a homework packet for you,” Caitlin explained, thrusting a plastic folder of papers into Hannah’s hands. “I said I’d drop it off during my spare.”
“Thanks.” Caitlin hovered on the doorstep. She had straightened her red hair, which made her look older, like she’d suddenly grown up while Hannah had been distracted by Lauren and Ronni and Noah. Caitlin didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, so Hannah asked, “Do you want to come in?”
“Just for a second . . .”
Hannah led the way into the quiet house. Caitlin had been there so many times, but she looked around her like it was her first visit. “Your parents home?” she asked.
“Nope. Thank God.”
They settled on the sofa. After Caitlin declined Hannah’s offer of tea or banana bread, she said, “Your mom must have been pretty mad that you got suspended.”
“You know my mom . . . she’s pretty chill,” Hannah joked.
Caitlin giggled. “So what the fuck happened with you and Lauren?”
The homework delivery was just a pretext; Caitlin wanted the scoop. Hannah could hardly blame her. If it had been Caitlin who punched Lauren in the girls’ bathroom, Hannah would have been desperate for details.
Hannah shrugged. “She was being a fucking bitch and . . . I just lost it.”
“Wow,” Caitlin said, clearly impressed. “When we heard, we were just like ‘Go Hannah!’ I mean, we’re sorry you got suspended, but . . . Lauren is so fucking mean and horrible, but everyone is too scared of her to do anything about it. . . . Even Sarah Foster is afraid of her. But not you.”
Hannah pressed her lips together and tried not to smile. She didn’t want to look smug, but she was pleased.
Caitlin leaned forward. “So . . . what did she say to make you that mad?”
Hannah was enjoying her friend’s adulation, but she couldn’t tell her what Lauren had said. There was no way she was going to articulate Lauren’s sick obsession with her dad. “Just more mean shit about Ronni and stuff . . . I don’t really remember.”
Caitlin flopped back on the sofa. “I saw Ronni . . . Mrs. Pittwell asked me to take some homework to her. Somehow, I’ve become the homework delivery girl.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Not great . . . But she was pretty impressed that you beat up Lauren Ross.”
“I didn’t beat her up,” Hannah said, smiling again. “Wait . . . why did you have to take homework to Ronni?”
“She hasn’t been at school for a while . . . ever since what happened in the cafeteria.”
“What happened?”
Caitlin’s freckled face darkened. “Ronni went in to get some food and some kids started chanting ‘Cyclops’ at her.”
“Jesus . . .”
“I know, such assholes. Her eye’s not even that bad, once you get used to it.”
That must have been the day Hannah had invited Ronni for lunch, the day Hannah had stood her up. . . . She felt sick.
But Caitlin wasn’t finished. “Ronni’s trying to stay off social media—there’s so much mean shit about her on there—and she’s been getting some horrible texts.”
“Who from?”
“Unknown number . . . But we all know who’s behind it.”
Hannah nodded. They did: Adam, Noah, Lauren . . .
“Ronni just wants to leave Hillcrest, but her mom and the school are making her finish the year.” Caitlin brightened a little. “She’ll start over next year. At a better school.”
“Unless my parents win this lawsuit,” Hannah muttered, almost to herself.
“What?”
“My mom and dad don’t want to pay Lisa so much money, because they didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I guess . . .”
Caitlin’s ambiguous response made Hannah feel surprisingly defensive. “They told us no drinking or drugs. They told us no boys, but we invited them anyway. This could have happened at anyone’s house . . . even at your house.”
“Maybe, but . . .”
“But what?”
Caitlin opened her mouth to say something but stopped. “Nothing . . . I have to go.” She stood. “I’m supposed to be doing my online math.”
Hannah followed her friend to the door, where they hovered for a moment. “Thanks for the homework,” Hannah said, her voice hoarse.
“No problem.” Caitlin reached for the door handle, but Hannah’s hand shot out, touched her wrist. She couldn’t let Caitlin leave, not yet. There were things she needed to say . . . if only she could get the words past the emotion clogging her throat.
“I know I was a shitty friend to you guys. . . .”
“It’s okay,” Caitlin said, making another attempt to leave, but Hannah pressed her hand on the door.
“I thought I was too cool for you when I was dating Noah and hanging out with Lauren, but I was just so fucking stupid. . . .”
“Yeah . . .”
“I wish I could go back in time, be like we were. . . . I’d never even look at Noah. I’d never even talk to Lauren fucking Ross.”
“But you can’t.”
“I know . . . but I hope, maybe, you guys can forgive me one day?” It sounded pleading, desperate, and pathetic. Caitlin should laugh in her face, tell her she got what she deserved. But Caitlin wasn’t mean like that.
“I’ll talk to Marta,” she said. “We’re not mad . . . not anymore. You’ve been through enough.”
Hannah felt like bursting into tears, but that would be beyond lame. How could she have dropped such a kind, understanding friend for a bitch like Lauren?
“I don’t know if we can ever go back to how we were before,” Caitlin said, a little less kind and understanding. “And Marta’s mom says she can’t come over here anymore. She got into it with your mom or something . . . so that’s kind of awkward.”
“We don’t have to be like we were,” Hannah said. “I get that. But maybe we could eat lunch sometimes? Maybe with Ronni, when she comes back?”
Caitlin gave her a small smile that Hannah took as encouraging. “I’ll see what Marta thinks.” Hannah let her leave then. She stood on the porch and watched Caitlin’s straight red hair swing as she walked down the front steps.
jeff
SIXTY-EIGHT DAYS AFTER