At least there weren’t any cars in the driveway when Sandy got to Hannah’s house. Her heart was still beating hard, though, as she jumped off her bike.
Sandy never would have gone to Hannah’s if she’d had any choice. After making it out of the chief of police’s office, the last place she wanted to go was his house. But it was the way Hannah had sounded on the phone when she’d given up on texting and started to call Sandy—like she was sliding down to the bottom of a well. Sandy had thought: This is it. This is the end. The whole time Hannah had been a house of cards. And finally, those motherfuckers had started to slide. Maybe right into the hands of the chief of police.
He’d been nice enough to Sandy, had said he would look for Jenna and all that. But there was something about the way he acted after Sandy said Jenna’s name. Like it had changed everything for him. For sure Hannah’s dad at least knew of Jenna, had heard her name before. Maybe that could be a good thing, but Sandy sure as hell wanted to get in and out of his house before it turned into a bad one.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Hannah said when she opened the door. She gave Sandy a teary, worried smile, then pulled her into a tight hug as she dragged her inside. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve been really worried.”
“But you really don’t have to worry,” Sandy said. Even though she already knew there was no point. Nothing she said was going to get them out of this wack-ass country they’d gotten lost in. “I’m all right, I promise.”
“Do you want a drink or anything?” Hannah asked, leading Sandy toward the kitchen. “God, you look tired. Did you ever end up seeing a doctor?”
Barely in the door and there Hannah went. Sandy had been hoping Hannah wasn’t going to do this—make them have this conversation face-to-face. Seemed stupid now, but Sandy had actually thought she and Hannah would never talk to each other again after that night. That Sandy would never have to talk to anyone about what happened. And after a while—a long time even—it would be like it hadn’t. Looking now at Hannah’s worried face, Sandy could see just how wrong she’d been.
“I’m all good,” Sandy said. “Like I said a bunch of times. Totally fine.”
The truth was she felt like crap. She hadn’t slept in two days, and she didn’t think she’d ever be hungry again.
“Sorry to drag you over here,” Hannah said. “But I have to watch my brother. He hasn’t been . . . he’s not feeling well. He’s okay right now, but my mom had to go out and, well, I didn’t know when I was going to get the chance to get out again.”
“Listen, can we go upstairs? Just in case your parents come home, I don’t want to be sitting here, right near the front door.”
Really it was that Sandy could hear the TV in the other room, where Hannah’s little brother must have been. And it was giving her bad flashbacks.
“Sure, come on,” Hannah said, smiling as they headed for the steps like she was eight and Sandy was there for a sleepover. “We’ll go to my room.”
It wasn’t the first time Sandy had felt like a little girl around Hannah. It was part of why Sandy had liked hanging out with her. She felt like a regular kid when they were together, gossiping about stupid, regular shit.
“You’ve never had a boyfriend, ever?” Sandy had asked during one of their last tutoring sessions. She’d been telling Hannah about Aidan, which felt dumb. It wasn’t like he was her boyfriend. “How’s that possible? You’re, what, seventeen? And look at you. I don’t believe you.”
It wasn’t like she and Hannah had known each other long, but lately they had been talking about all sorts of stuff that had nothing to do with Sandy’s coursework. Hannah had suggested it the first time. You know, if Sandy wanted to hang out after. And it was nice, Hannah wanting to do that, because it wasn’t like she was hard up for friends or something. Unless what Hannah wanted was a friend as messed up as Sandy, to feel good about herself by comparison. But Sandy could live with that. Everybody needed something.
“What do you mean, you don’t believe me?” Hannah had laughed a little. “I’m serious, no boyfriend ever. It’s true.”
“Fine, whatever, but for the record, I don’t believe you.” Sandy had waved a pencil in Hannah’s face. “You’re too pretty and nice and smart— Wait, are you gay?” That felt like it might explain a lot. “I mean, I don’t give a shit. But in this particular situation, I think that would count as lying. Girlfriend, boyfriend, same thing.”
“I like boys,” Hannah had said with a shrug. “But it’s complicated. They’re not worth the trouble right now.”
“Maybe you’ve been with the wrong guys. Usually, it’s the ladies who overcomplicate shit.”
But maybe Sandy was the one getting things wrong. When guys really wanted you—all of you—it probably was a shitload messier. Maybe Sandy’s relationships with boys had always been simple because they weren’t relationships at all. Guys wanted one thing from Sandy: sex. And she knew after a lifetime of watching Jenna that it was stupid to give it up to them as easily as she did. But for some reason, it had always felt more stupid to snap on a chastity belt. Only an idiot would think doing that would change the way things were going to turn out for her.
“I’m not saying the guys are complicated.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “It’s a bunch of other things. My mom, for one. If you think she’s uptight about glitter shoes, imagine what she’d be like about boys. Anyway, it’s not just her. I think maybe I want to save myself until marriage. And don’t bother making fun of me. I already know you’ll probably think that’s ‘fucked up’ or whatever.”
Hannah always sounded so weird, swearing. Like she didn’t know what the words meant.