The Deal-Amazon Kindle

PraiseforTheDeal
“ElleKennedyengagesyoursensesfromtheveryfirstsentence!Bothdeliciouslysteamyandheart-achinglytender,TheDealisanabsolutewinner!”
—KatyEvans,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthor
“Ellehasmasterfullycapturedthefeelings,theromanceandtheunbridledsexinessoftheNewAdultgenrewiththisbook!YouwillswoonforGarrett!”
—AliceClayton,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofWallbanger
“Ilovedthisbook!Garrettisdreamy.IfyouloveNA,youmustreadTheDeal!”
—MonicaMurphy,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthor
“ThiswasoneofthebestcollegeromanceI’veread…Ilaughed,Iswooned,Icouldn’tputitdown.Highlyrecommended!!”
—AestasBookBlogTheDeal
Asexystandalonenovel*fromNewYorkTimesandinternationalbestsellingauthorElleKennedy!
She’sabouttomakeadealwiththecollegebadboy…
HannahWellshasfinallyfoundsomeonewhoturnsheron.Butwhileshemightbeconfidentineveryotherareaofherlife,she’scartingaroundafullsetofbaggagewhenitcomestosexandseduction.Ifshewantstogethercrush’sattention,she’llhavetostepoutofhercomfortzoneandmakehimtakenotice…evenifitmeanstutoringtheannoying,childish,cockycaptainofthehockeyteaminexchangeforapretenddate.
…andit’sgoingtobeohsogood
AllGarrettGrahamhaseverwantedistoplayprofessionalhockeyaftergraduation,buthisplummetingGPAisthreateningeverythinghe’sworkedsohardfor.Ifhelpingasarcasticbrunettemakeanotherguyjealouswillhelphimsecurehispositionontheteam,he’sallforit.Butwhenoneunexpectedkissleadstothewildestsexofboththeirlives,itdoesn’ttakelongforGarretttorealizethatpretendisn’tgoingtocutit.NowhejusthastoconvinceHannahthatthemanshewantslooksalotlikehim
*Originallypublishedin2015.Thisisanupdated,editedversion.Contents
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Chapter35
Chapter36
Chapter37
Chapter38
Chapter39
Chapter40
Chapter41
Chapter42
Chapter43
Chapter44
Chapter45
Epilogue
OtherTitlesbyElleKennedy
Author’sNote
AbouttheAuthor1
HANNAH
Hedoesn’tknowI’malive.
Forthemillionthtimeinforty-fiveminutes,IsneakapeekinJustinKohl’sdirection,andhe’ssobeautifulitmakesmythroatcloseup.ThoughIshouldprobablycomeupwithanotheradjective—mymalefriendsinsistthatmendon’tlikebeingcalledbeautiful
Butholyhell,there’snootherwaytodescribehisruggedfeaturesandsoulfulbrowneyes.He’swearingabaseballcaptoday,butIknowwhat’sbeneathit:thickdarkhair,thekindthatlookssilkytothetouchandmakesyouwanttorunyourfingersthroughit.
Inthefiveyearssincemyassault,myhearthaspoundedforonlytwoguys.
Thefirstonedumpedme.
Thisoneisjustoblivious.
Atthepodiuminthelecturehall,ProfessorTolbertdeliverswhatI’vecometorefertoastheDisappointmentSpeech.It’sthethirdoneinsixweeks.
Surprise,surprise,seventypercentoftheclassgotaC-plusorloweronthemidterm.
Me?Iacedit.AndI’dbelyingifIsaidthebigredA!circledontopofmymidtermhadn’tcomeasacompleteshock.AllIdidwasscribbledownanever-endingstreamofbullshittotrytofillupthebooklet.
PhilosophicalEthicswassupposedtobeabreeze.Theprofwhousedtoteachithandedoutbrainlessmultiplechoicetestsandafinal“exam”consistingofapersonalessaythatposedamoraldilemmaandaskedhowyou’dreacttoit.
Buttwoweeksbeforethesemesterstarted,ProfessorLanedroppeddeadfromaheartattack.Iheardhiscleaningladyfoundhimonthebathroomfloor—naked.Poorguy.
Luckily(andyep,that’stotalsarcasm)PamelaTolbertsteppedintotakeoverLane’sclass.She’snewtoBriarUniversity,andshe’sthekindofprofwhowantsyoutomakeconnectionsand“engage”withthematerial.Ifthiswereamovie,she’dbetheyoung,ambitiousteacherwhoshowsupattheinnercityschoolandinspiresthefuckups,andsuddenlyeveryone’spickinguptheirpencils,andtheendcreditsscrolluptoannouncehowallthekidsgotintoHarvardorsomeshit.InstantOscarforJenniferLawrence.
Exceptthisisn’tamovie,whichmeansthattheonlythingTolberthasinspiredinherstudentsishatred.Andshehonestlycan’tseemtograspwhynobodyisexcellinginherclass.
Here’sahint—it’sbecausesheasksthetypesofquestionsyoucouldwriteafrickin’gradschoolthesison.
“I’mwillingtoofferamakeupexamtoanyonewhofailedorreceivedaC-minusorlower.”Tolbert’snosewrinklesasifshecan’tfathomwhyit’sevennecessary.
Thewordshejustused—willing?Yeah,right.Iheardthatatonofstudentscomplainedtotheiradvisorsabouther,andIsuspecttheadministrationisforcinghertogiveeveryonearedo.Itdoesn’treflectwellonBriarwhenmorethanhalfthestudentsinacourseareflunking,especiallywhenit’snotjusttheslackers.Straight-AstudentslikeNell,who’ssulkingbesideme,alsobombedthemidterm.
“Forthoseofyouwhochoosetotakeitagain,yourtwogradeswillbeaveraged.Ifyoudoworsethesecondtime,thefirstgradewillstand,”Tolbertfinishes.
“Ican’tbelieveyougotanA,”Nellwhisperstome.
ShelookssoupsetthatIfeelapangofsympathy.NellandIaren’tbestpalsoranything,butwe’vebeensittingnexttoeachothersinceSeptembersoit’sonlyreasonablethatwe’vegottentoknoweachother.She’sonthepre-medpath,andIknowshecomesfromanoverachievingfamilywhowouldlayintoheriftheyfoundoutabouthermidtermgrade.
“Ican’tbelieveiteither,”Iwhisperback.“Seriously.Readmyanswers.They’reramblingsofnonsense.”
“Actually,canI?”Shesoundseagernow.“I’mcurioustoseewhattheTyrantconsidersAmaterial.”
“I’llscanandemailyouacopytonight,”Ipromise.
ThesecondTolbertdismissesus,thelecturehallechoeswithlet’s-get-the-hell-outta-herenoises.Laptopssnapshut,notebooksslideintobackpacks,studentsshuffleoutoftheirseats.
JustinKohllingersnearthedoortotalktosomeone,andmygazelocksinonhimlikeamissile.He’sbeautiful.
HaveImentionedhowbeautifulheis?
MypalmsgoclammyasIstareathishandsomeprofile.He’snewtoBriarthisyear,butI’mnotsurewhichcollegehetransferredfrom,andalthoughhewastednotimebecomingthestarwidereceiveronthefootballteam,he’snotliketheotherathletesatthisschool.Hedoesn’tstrutthroughthequadwithoneofthoseI’m-God’s-gift-to-the-worldsmirksorshowupwithanewgirlonhisarmeveryday.I’veseenhimlaughandjokewithhisteammates,buthegivesoffanintelligent,intensevibethatmakesmethinktherearehiddendepthstohim.Whichjustmakesmeallthemoredesperatetogettoknowhim
I’mnotusuallyintojocks,butsomethingaboutthisonehasturnedmeintoamindlesspileofmush.
“You’restaringagain.”
Nell’steasingvoicebringsablushtomycheeks.She’scaughtmedroolingoverJustinonmorethanoneoccasion,andshe’soneofthefewpeopleI’veadmittedthecrushto.
MyroommateAlliealsoknows,butmyotherfriends?Hellno.Mostofthemaremusicordramamajors,soIguessthatmakesustheartsycrowd.Ormaybeemo.AsidefromAllie,who’shadanon-again/off-againrelationshipwithafratboysincefreshmanyear,myfriendsgetakickoutoftrashingBriar’selite.Idon’tusuallyjoinin(Iliketothinkgossipingisbeneathme)but…let’sfaceit.Mostofthepopularkidsaretotaldouchebags.
Caseinpoint—GarrettGraham,theotherstarathleteinthisclass.Dudewalksaroundlikeheownstheplace.Iguesshekindofdoes.Allhehastodoissnaphisfingersandaneagergirlappearsathisside.Orjumpsintohislap.Orstickshertonguedownhisthroat.
Hedoesn’tlookliketheBMOCtoday,though.Almosteveryoneelsehasgone,includingTolbert,butGarrettremainsinhisseat,hisfistscurledtightlyaroundtheedgesofhisbooklet
Hemusthavefailedtoo,butIdon’tfeelmuchsympathyfortheguy.Briarisknownfortwothings—hockeyandfootball,whichisn’tmuchofashockerconsideringMassachusettsishometoboththePatriotsandtheBruins.TheathleteswhoplayforBriaralmostalwaysendupinthepros,andduringtheiryearsheretheygeteverythinghandedtothemonasilverplatter—includinggrades.
Soyeah,maybeitmakesmeateenybitvindictive,butIgetasenseoftriumphfromknowingthatTolbertisfailingthecaptainofourchampionship-winninghockeyteamrightalongwitheveryoneelse.
“WannagrabsomethingfromtheCoffeeHut?”Nellasksasshegathersherbooks.
“Can’t.I’vegotrehearsalintwentyminutes.”Igetup,butIdon’tfollowhertothedoor.“Goonahead.IneedtochecktheschedulebeforeIgo.Can’trememberwhenmynexttutorialis.”
Another“perk”ofbeinginTolbert’sclass—alongwithourweeklylecture,we’reforcedtoattendtwothirty-minutetutorialsaweek.Onthebrightside,DanatheTArunsthose,andshehasallthequalitiesTolbertlacks.Likeasenseofhumor.
“’Kay,”Nellsays.“I’llseeyoulater.”
“Later,”Icallafterher.
Atthesoundofmyvoice,Justinpausesinthedoorwayandturnshishead.
Oh.My.God.
It’simpossibletostoptheflushthatrisesinmycheeks.Thisisthefirsttimewe’veevermadeeyecontact,andIdon’tknowhowtorespond.Sayhi?Wave?Smile?
Intheend,Isettleforasmallnodofgreeting.There.Coolandcasual,befittingofasophisticatedcollegejunior.
Myheartskipsabeatwhenthecornerofhismouthliftsinafaintgrin.Henodsback,andthenhe’sgone.
Istareattheemptydoorway.Mypulseexplodesinagallopbecauseholyshit.Aftersixweeksofbreathingthesameairinthisstuffylecturehall,he’sfinallynoticedme.
IwishIwerebraveenoughtogoafterhim.Maybeaskhimtograbacoffee.Ordinner.Orbrunch—wait,dopeopleourageevenhavebrunch?
Butmyfeetstayrootedtotheshinylaminatefloor.
BecauseI’macoward.Yep,atotalchicken-shitcoward.I’mterrifiedthathe’llsayno,butI’mevenmoreterrifiedhe’llsayyes
IwasinagoodplacewhenIstartedcollege.Myissuessolidlybehindme,myguardlowered.Iwasreadytodateagain,andIdid.Idatedseveralguys,butotherthanmyex,Devon,noneofthemmademybodytinglethewayJustinKohldoes,andthatfreaksmeout.
Babysteps
Right.Babysteps.Thatwasmytherapist’sfavoritepieceofadvice,andIcan’tdenythatthestrategyhelpedmealot.Focusonthesmallvictories,Carolealwaysadvised.
So…today’svictory…InoddedatJustinandhesmiledatme.Nextclass,maybeI’llsmileback.Andtheoneafterthat,maybeI’llbringupthecoffee,dinner,orbrunchidea.
ItakeabreathasIheaddowntheaisle,clingingtothatfeelingofvictory,howeverteenyitmaybe.
Babysteps.
GARRETT
Ifailed.
Ifuckingfailed.
Forfifteenyears,TimothyLanehandedoutA’slikemints.TheyearItaketheclass?Lane’stickerquitsticking,andIgetstuckwithPamelaTolbert.
It’sofficial.Thewomanismyarchenemy.Justthesightofherfloweryhandwriting—whichfillsupeveryinchofavailablespaceinthemarginsofmymidterm—makesmewanttogoIncredibleHulkonthebookletandripittoshreds.
I’mrockingA’sinmostofmyothercourses,butasofrightnow,I’mgettinganFinPhilosophicalEthics.CombinedwiththeC-plusinSpanishhistory,myaveragehasdroppedtoaC-minus.
IneedaC-plusaveragetoplayhockey.
NormallyIhavenoproblemkeepingmyGPAup.Despitewhatalotoffolksbelieve,I’mnotadumbjock.Buthey,Idon’tmindlettingpeoplethinkIam.Women,inparticular.Iguessthey’returnedonbytheideaofscrewingthebigbrawnycavemanwho’sonlygoodforonething,butsinceI’mnotlookingforanythingserious,casualhookupswithchicksthatonlywantmydicksuitmejustfine.Givesmemoretimetofocusonhockey.
Buttherewon’tbeanymorehockeyifIdon’tbringupthisgrade.TheworstthingaboutBriar?Ourdeandemandsexcellence—academicallyandathletically.Whileotherschoolsmightbemorelenienttowardathletes,Briarhasazero-tolerancepolicy.
Fuckin’Tolbert.WhenIspoketoherbeforeclassaskingforextracredit,shetoldmeinthatnasallyvoiceofherstoattendthetutorialsandmeetwiththestudygroup.Ialreadydoboth.Soyeah,unlessIhiresomewhizkidtowearamaskofmyfaceandtakethemakeupmidtermforme…I’mscrewed.
Myfrustrationmanifestsitselfintheformofanaudiblegroan,andfromthecornerofmyeyeIseesomeonejerkinsurprise.
Ijerktoo,becausehereIthoughtIwaswallowinginmymiseryalone.Butthegirlwhositsinthebackrowhasstuckaround,andshe’smakingherwaydowntheaisletowardTolbert’sdesk.
Mandy?
Marty?
Ican’trememberhername.ProbablybecauseI’veneverbotheredtoaskforit.She’scute,though.AhelluvalotcuterthanIrealized.Prettyface,darkhair,smokin’body—shit,howhaveInevernoticedthatbodybefore?
ButI’mnoticingnow.Skinnyjeansclingtoaround,perkyassthatjustscreams“squeezeme,”andherV-necksweaterhugsaseriouslyimpressiverack.Idon’thavetimetoadmireeitherofthoseappealingvisualsbecauseshecatchesmestaringandafrowntoucheshermouth.
“Everythingokay?”sheaskswithapointedlook.
Igrumblesomethingundermybreath.I’mnotinthemoodtotalktoanyoneatthemoment.
Onedarkeyebrowrisesinmydirection.“Sorry,wasthatEnglish?”
Iballupmymidtermandscrapemychairback.“Isaideverything’sfine.”
“Okay,then.”Sheshrugsandcontinuesdownthesteps
Asshepicksuptheclipboardthatcontainsourtutorialschedule,IflingmyBriarHockeyjacketon,thenshovemypatheticmidtermintomybackpackandzipitup.
Thedark-hairedgirlheadsbacktotheaisle.Mona?Molly?TheMsoundsright,buttherestisamystery.Shehashermidterminhand,butIdon’tsneakapeekbecauseIassumeshefailedjustlikeeveryoneelse.
IletherpassbeforeIstepintotheaisle.IsupposeIcansayit’sthegentlemaninme,butthatwouldbealie.Iwanttocheckoutherassagain,becauseit’sadamnsexyass,andnowthatI’veseenitIwouldn’tmindanotherlook.Ifollowheruptotheexit,suddenlyrealizinghowfrickin’tinysheis—I’monestepbelowheryetIcanseethetopofherhead.
Justaswereachthedoor,shestumblesonabsolutelynothingandthebooksinherhandclattertothefloor.
“Shit.I’msuchaklutz.”
ShedropstoherkneesandsodoI,becausecontrarytomypreviousstatement,IcanbeagentlemanwhenIwanttobe,andthegentlemanlythingtodoishelphergatherherbooks.
“Oh,youdon’thavetodothat.I’mfine,”sheinsists.
Butmyhandhasalreadyconnectedwithhermidterm,andmyjawdropswhenIseehergrade.
“Fuckinghell.Youacedit?”Idemand.
Shegivesaself-deprecatingsmile.“Iknow,right?IthoughtIfailedforsure.”
“Holyshit.”IfeellikeI’vejustbumpedintoStephenfuckin’Hawkingandhe’sdanglingthesecretstotheuniverseundermynose.“CanIreadyouranswers?”
Herbrowsquirkupagain.“That’sratherforwardofyou,don’tyouthink?Wedon’tevenknoweachother.”
Irollmyeyes.“I’mnotaskingyoutotakeyourclothesoff,baby.Ijustwanttopeekatyourmidterm.”
“Baby?Goodbyeforward,hellopresumptuous.”
“Wouldyouprefermiss?Ma’ammaybe?I’duseyournamebutIdon’tknowit.”
“Ofcourseyoudon’t.”Shesighs.“It’sHannah.”Thenshepausesmeaningfully.“Garrett.”
Okay,IwaswaaaayoffontheMthing.
AndIdon’tmissthewaysheemphasizesmynameasiftosay,Ha!Iknowyours,asshole!
Shecollectstherestofherbooksandstandsup,butIdon’thandoverhermidterm.Instead,Ihoptomyfeetandstartflippingthroughit.AsIskimheranswers,myspiritsplummetevenlower,becauseifthisisthekindofanalysisTolbertislookingfor,I’mscrewed.There’sareasonI’mahistorymajor,forchrissake—Idealinfacts.Blackandwhite.Thishappenedatthistimetothispersonandhere’stheresult.
Hannah’sanswersfocusontheoreticalshitandhowthephilosopherswouldrespondtothevariousmoraldilemmas.
“Thanks.”Igiveherthebooklet,thenhookmythumbsinthebeltloopsofmyjeans.“Hey,listen.Doyou…wouldyouconsider…”Ishrug.“Youknow…”
Herlipstwitchasifshe’stryingnottolaugh.“Actually,Idon’tknow.”
Iletoutabreath.“Willyoututorme?”
Hergreeneyes—thedarkestshadeofgreenI’veeverseenandsurroundedbythickblackeyelashes—gofromsurprisedtoskepticalinamatterofseconds
“I’llpayyou,”Iaddhastily.
“Oh.Um.Well,yeah,ofcourseI’dexpectyoutopayme.But…”Sheshakesherhead.“I’msorry.Ican’t.”
Ibitebackmydisappointment.“C’mon,domeasolid.IfIfailthismakeup,myGPAwillimplode.Please?”Iflashasmile,theonethatmakesmydimplespopoutandneverfailstomakegirlsmelt.
“Doesthatusuallywork?”sheaskscuriously.
“What?”
“Theaw-shuckslittleboygrin…Doesithelpyougetyourway?”
“Always,”Ianswerwithouthesitation.
“Almostalways,”shecorrects.“Look,I’msorry,butIreallydon’thavetime.I’malreadyjugglingschoolandwork,andwiththewintershowcasecomingup,I’llhaveevenlesstime.”
“Wintershowcase?”Isayblankly.
“Right,Iforgot.Ifit’snotabouthockey,thenit’snotonyourradar.”
“Nowwho’sbeingpresumptuous?Youdon’tevenknowme.”
There’sabeat,andthenshesighs.“I’mamusicmajor,okay?Andtheartsfacultyputsontwomajorperformanceseveryyear,thewintershowcaseandthespringone.Thewinnergetsafive-thousand-dollarscholarship.It’skindofahugedeal,actually.Importantindustrypeopleflyinfromalloverthecountrytoseeit.Agents,recordproducers,talentscouts….So,asmuchasI’dlovetohelpyou—”
“Youwouldnot,”Igrumble.“Youlooklikeyoudon’tevenwanttotalktomerightnow.”
Herlittleyou-got-meshrugisgratingashell.“Ihavetogettorehearsal.I’msorryyou’refailingthiscourse,butifitmakesyoufeelbetter,soiseveryoneelse.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Notyou.”
“Ican’thelpit.Tolbertseemstorespondtomybrandofbullshit.It’sagift.”
“Well,Iwantyourgift.Please,master,teachmehowtobullshit.”
I’mtwosecondsfromdroppingtomykneesandbeggingher,butsheedgestothedoor.“Youknowthere’sastudygroup,right?Icangiveyouthenumberfor—”
“I’malreadyinit,”Imutter.
“Oh.Well,thenthere’snotmuchelseIcandoforyou.Goodluckonthemakeuptest.Baby.”
Shedartsoutthedoor,leavingmestaringafterherinfrustration.Unbelievable.Everygirlatthiscollegewouldcutherfrickin’armofftohelpmeout.Butthisone?RunsawaylikeIjustaskedhertomurderacatsowecouldsacrificeittoSatan.
AndnowI’mrightbacktowhereIwasbeforeHannah-not-with-an-Mgavemethatfaintestflickerofhope.
Royallyscrewed.2
GARRETT
MyroommatesarepissdrunkwhenIwalkintothelivingroomafterstudygroup.Thecoffeetableisoverflowingwithemptybeercans,alongwithanearlydepletedbottleofJackthatIknowbelongstoLoganbecausehesubscribestothebeerisforpussiesphilosophy.Hiswords,notmine.
Atthemoment,LoganandTuckerarebattlingeachotherinaheatedgameofIcePro,theirgazesgluedtotheflatscreenastheyfuriouslyclicktheircontrollers.Logan’sgazeshiftsslightlywhenhenoticesmeinthedoorway,andhissplitsecondofdistractioncostshim.
“Helltotheyeah!”TuckcrowsashisdefensemanflicksawristshotpastLogan’sgoalieandthescoreboardlightsup.
“Aw,forfuck’ssake!”Loganpausesthegameandlevelsadarkglareatme.“Whatthehell,G?Ijustgotdekedoutbecauseofyou.”
Idon’tanswer,becausenowI’mdistracted—bythehalf-nakedmake-outsessionhappeninginthecorneroftheroom.Dean’satitagain.Bare-chestedandbarefoot,he’ssprawledinthearmchairwhileablondeinnothingbutalacyblackbraandbootyshortssitsastridehimandgrindsagainsthiscrotch
Darkgreeneyespeeroverthechick’sshoulder,andDeansmirksinmydirection.“Graham!Where’veyoubeen,man?”heslurs.
HegoesbacktokissingtheblondebeforeIcananswerthedrunkenquestion
Forsomereason,Deanlikestohookupeverywherebuthisbedroom.Seriously.EverytimeIturnaround,he’sinthemidstofsomeformofdebauchery.Onthekitchencounter,thelivingroomcouch,thediningroomtable—dude’sgottenitonineveryinchoftheoff-campushousethefourofusshare.He’satotalslutandcompletelyunapologeticaboutit.
Granted,I’mnotonetotalk.I’mnomonk,andneitherareLoganandTuck.WhatcanIsay?Hockeyplayersarehornymotherfuckers.Whenwe’renotontheice,wecanusuallybefoundhookingupwithapuckbunnyortwo.Orthree,ifyournameisTuckerandit’sNewYear’sEveoflastyear.
“I’vebeentextingyouforthepasthour,man,”Loganinformsme.
Hismassiveshouldershunchforwardasheswipesthewhiskeybottlefromthecoffeetable.Logan’sabruiserofadefenseman,oneofthebestI’veeverplayedwith,andalsothebestfriendI’veeverhad.HisfirstnameisJohn,butwecallhimLoganbecauseitmakesiteasiertodifferentiatehimfromTucker,whosefirstnameisalsoJohn.Luckily,DeanisjustDean,sowedon’thavetocallhimbyhismouthfulofalastname:Heyward-DiLaurentis.
“Seriously,wherethehellhaveyoubeen?”Logangrumbles.
“Studygroup.”IgrabaBudLightfromthetableandpopthetab.“What’sthissurpriseyoukeptblabbingabout?”
IcanalwaystellhowplasteredLoganisbasedonthegrammarofhistexts.Andtonighthemustbeshit-faced,becauseIhadtogofull-onSherlocktodecrypthismessages.Suprzmeantsurprise.Gyabhhadtakenlongertodecode,butIthinkitmeantgetyourassbackhere?ButwhoknowswithLogan.
Fromhisperchonthecouch,hegrinssobroadlyit’sawonderhisjawdoesn’tsnapoff.Hejerkshisthumbattheceilingandsays,“Goupstairsandseeforyourself.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Why?Who’supthere?”
Logansnickers.“IfItoldyou,thenitwouldn’tbeasurprise.”
“WhydoIgetthefeelingyou’reuptosomething?”
“Jeez,”Tuckerpipesup.“You’vegotsomemajortrustissues,G.”
“Saystheassholewholeftaliveraccooninmybedroomonthefirstdayofthesemester.”
Tuckergrins.“Aw,comeon,Banditwasfuckingadorable.Hewasyourwelcomebacktoschoolgift.”
Iflipupmymiddlefinger.“Yeah,well,yourgiftwasabitchtogetridof.”NowIscowlathimbecauseIstillrememberhowittookthreepestcontrolguystode-raccoonmyroom.
“Forfuck’ssake,”Logangroans.“Justgoupstairs.Trustme,you’llthankusforitlater.”
Theknowinglooktheyexchangeeasesmysuspicion.Kindof.Imean,I’mnotabouttoletdownmyguardcompletely,notaroundtheseassholes.
Istealtwomorecansofbeeronmywayout.Idon’tdrinkmuchduringtheseason,butCoachgaveustheweekofftostudyformidtermsandwestillhavetwodaysoffreedomleft.Myteammates,luckybastards,seemtohavenoproblemdowningtwelvebeersandplayinglikechampsthenextday.Me?Evenabuzzgivesmearip-roaringheadachethemorningafterandthenIskatelikeatoddlerwithhisfirstpairofBauers.
Oncewe’rebacktoasix-days-a-weekpracticeschedule,myalcoholconsumptionwilldroptotheusualone/fivelimit.Onedrinkonpracticenights,fiveafteragame.Noexceptions.
IplanontakingfulladvantageofthetimeIhaveleft.
Armedwithmybeers,Iheadupstairstomyroom.Themasterbedroom.Yup,IwasnotaboveplayingtheI’m-your-captaincardtosnagit,andtrustme,itwasworththeargumentmyteammatesputup.Privatebath,baby.
Mydoorisajar,asightthatsnapsmerightbackintosuspicionmode.Iwarilypeerupattheframetomakesurethereisn’tabucketofbloodupthere,thengivethedooratinyshove.ItgiveswayandIinchthroughit,fullypreparedforanambush.
Igetone.
Exceptit’smoreofavisualambush,becausedamn,thegirlonmybedlookslikeshesteppedoutofaVictoria’sSecretcatalog.
Now,I’maguy.Idon’tknowthenamesofhalftheshitshe’swearing.Iseewhitelaceandpinkbowsandlotsofskin.AndI’mhappy.
“Tookyoulongenough.”Kendallshootsmeasexysmilethatsaysyou’reabouttogetlucky,bigboy,andmycockreactsaccordingly,thickeningbeneathmyzipper.“IwasgivingyoufivemoreminutesbeforeItookoff.”
“Imadeitjustintimethen.”Mygazesweepsoverherdrool-worthyoutfit,andthenIdrawl,“Aw,babe,isthatallforme?”
Herblueeyesdarkenseductively.“Youknowit,stud.”
I’mwellawarethatwesoundlikecharactersfromacheesyporno.Butcomeon,whenamanwalksintohisbedroomandfindsawomanwholookslikethis?He’swillingtoreenactanytrashysceneshewants,evenonethatinvolveshimpretendingtobeapizzaguydeliveringpiestoaMILF.
KendallandIfirsthookedupoverthesummer,outofconveniencemorethananythingelsebecausewebothhappenedtobeintheareaduringthebreak.Wehitthebaracoupletimes,onethingledtoanother,andthenextthingIknowI’mfoolingaroundwithahotsororitygirl.Butitfizzledoutbeforemidtermsstarted,andasidefromafewdirtytextshereandthere,Ihaven’tseenKendalluntilnow.
“Ifiguredyoumightwanttohavesomefunbeforepracticestartsupagain,”shesays,hermanicuredfingerstoyingwiththetinypinkbowinthecenterofherbra.
“Youfiguredright.”
Asmilecurvesherlipsassherisestoherknees.Damn,hertitsarepracticallypouringoutofthatlacythingshe’swearing.Shecrooksafingeratme.“C’mere.”
Iwastenotimestridingtowardher.Because…again…I’maguy
“Ithinkyou’reatadoverdressed,”sheremarks,thengraspsthewaistbandofmyjeansandteasesthebuttonopen.Shetugsonthezipperandasecondlatermydickspringsintoherwaitinghand.Ihaven’tdonelaundryinweekssoI’vebeengoingcommandountilIgetmyshittogether,andfromthewayhereyesflarewithheat,Icantellsheapprovesofthewholeno-boxersthing.
Whenshewrapsherfingersaroundme,agroanslipsoutofmythroat.Ohyeah.There’snothingbetterthanthefeelofawoman’shandonyourcock.
Nope,I’mwrong.Kendall’stonguecomesintoplay,andholyshit,it’ssomuchbetterthanherhand.
Anhourlater,Kendallsnugglesupbesidemeandrestsherheadonmychest.Herlingerieandmyclothesarestrewnonthebedroomfloor,alongwithtwoemptycondompackagesandthebottleoflubewehadn’tneededtocrackopen.
Thecuddlingmakesmeapprehensive,butIcan’texactlyshoveherawayanddemandshehittheroad,notwhensheclearlyputalotofeffortintothisseduction.
Butthatworriesmetoo.
Womendon’tgetalldeckedoutinexpensivelingerieforahookup,dothey?I’mthinkingno,andKendall’snextwordsvalidatemyuneasythoughts.
“Imissedyou,baby.”
Myfirstthoughtisshit
Mysecondthoughtiswhy?
Becauseinallthetimewe’vebeenhookingup,Kendallhasn’tmadeasingleefforttogettoknowme.Ifwe’renothavingsex,shejusttalksnonstopaboutherself.Seriously,Idon’tthinkshe’saskedmeapersonalquestionaboutmyselfsincewemet.
“Uh…”Istruggleforwords,anysequenceofthemthatdoesn’tconsistofI,miss,you,andtoo.“I’vebeenbusy.Youknow,midterms.”
“Obviously.Wegotothesamecollege.Iwasstudying,too.”There’sanedgetohertonenow.“Didyoumissme?”
Fuckmesideways.WhatamIsupposedtosaytothat?I’mnotgoingtolie,becausethat’llonlyleadheron.ButIcan’tbeadickaboutitandadmitshehasn’tevencrossedmymindsincethelasttimewehookedup.
Kendallsitsupandnarrowshereyes.“It’sayesornoquestion,Garrett.Did.You.Miss.Me.”
Mygazedartstothewindow.Yup,I’monthesecondfloorandactuallycontemplatingjumpingoutthefrickin’window.That’showbadlyIwanttoavoidthisconvo.
Butmysilencespeaksvolumes,andsuddenlyKendallfliesoffthebed,herblondhairwhippinginalldirectionsasshescramblesforherclothes.“OhmyGod.Youaresuchanass!Youdon’tcareaboutmeatall,doyou,Garrett?”
Igetupandmakeabeelineformydiscardedjeans.“Idocareaboutyou,”Iprotest.“But…”
Sheangrilyshovesherpantieson.“Butwhat?”
“ButIthoughtwewereclearaboutwhatthiswas.Idon’twantanythingserious.”Ishootherapointedlook.“Itoldyouthatfromthestart.”
Herexpressionsoftensasshebitesherlip.“Iknow,but…Ijustthought…”
Iknowexactlywhatshethought—thatI’dfallmadlyinlovewithher,andourcasualhookupwouldtransformintothefuckingNotebook
Honestly,Idon’tknowwhyIbotherlayingdowngroundrulesanymore.Inmyexperience,nowomanentersintoaflingbelievingit’sgoingtostayafling.Shemightsayotherwise,maybeevenconvinceherselfshe’scoolwithano-stringssex-fest,butdeepdown,shehopesandpraysit’llleadtosomethingdeeper.
AndthenI,thevillaininherpersonalrom-com,swoopinandburstthatbubbleofhope,despitethefactthatIneverliedaboutmyintentionsormisledher,notevenforasecond.
“Hockeyismyentirelife,”Isaygruffly.“Ipracticesixdaysaweek,playtwentygamesayear—moreifwemakeittothepost-season.Idon’thavetimeforagirlfriend,Kendall.AndyoudeserveahelluvalotmorethanIcangiveyou.”
Unhappinesscloudshereyes.“Idon’twantacasualflinganymore.Iwanttobeyourgirlfriend.”
Anotherwhyalmostfliesoutofmymouth,butIbitemytongue.Ifshe’dshownanyinterestinmeoutsidethecarnalsense,Imightbelieveher,butthefactthatshehasn’tmakesmewonderiftheonlyreasonshewantsarelationshipwithmeisbecauseI’msomekindofstatussymboltoher.
Iswallowmyfrustrationandofferanotherawkwardapology.“I’msorry.Butthat’swhereI’matrightnow.”
AsIzipupmyjeans,sherefocusesherattentionongettingherclotheson.Thoughclothesisabitofastretch—allshe’ssportingislingerieandatrenchcoat.WhichexplainswhyLoganandTuckerweregrinninglikeidiotswhenIgothome.Becausewhenagirlshowsupatyourdoorinatrenchcoat,youknowdamnwellthere’snotmuchelseunderneathit.
“Ican’tseeyouanymore,”shefinallysays,hergazefindingmine.“Ifwekeepdoing…this…I’llonlygetmoreattached.”
Ican’targuewiththat,soIdon’t.“Wehadfun,though,right?”
Afterabeat,shesmiles.“Yeah,wehadfun.”
Shebridgesthedistancebetweenusandleansuponhertiptoestokissme.Ikissherback,butnotwiththesamedegreeofpassionasbefore.Ikeepitlight.Polite.Theflinghasrunitscourse,andI’mnotabouttoleadheronagain.
“Withthatsaid…”Hereyestwinklemischievously.“Letmeknowifyouchangeyourmindaboutthegirlfriendthing.”
“You’llbethefirstpersonIcall,”Ipromise.
“Good.”
Shesmacksakissonmycheekandwalksoutthedoor,leavingmetomarveloverhoweasythatwent.I’dbeensteelingmyselfforafight,butasidefromthatinitialburstofanger,Kendallhadacceptedthesituationlikeapro.
Ifonlyallwomenwereasagreeableasher.
Yup,totallyajabatHannahthere.
Sexalwaysstirsupmyappetite,soIheaddownstairsinsearchofnourishment,andI’mhappytofindthere’sstillleftoverriceandfriedchickencourtesyofTuck,whoisourresidentchefbecausetherestofuscan’tboilwaterwithoutburningit.Tuck,ontheotherhand,grewupinTexaswithasinglemomwhotaughthimtocookwhenhewasstillindiapers.
Isettleattheeat-incounter,shovingapieceofchickeninmymouthjustasLoganstrollsinwearingnothingbutplaidboxers.
Heraisesabrowwhenhespotsme.“Hey.Ididn’tthinkI’dseeyouagaintonight.Figuredyou’dbeVBF.”
“VBF?”Iaskbetweenmouthfuls.Loganlikestomakeupacronymsinthehopesthatwe’llstarttousethemasslang,buthalfthetimeIhavenoideawhathe’sbabblingabout.
Hegrins.“Verybusyfucking.”
Irollmyeyesandeataforkfulofwildrice.
“Seriously,Blondie’sgonealready?”
“Yup.”Ichewbeforecontinuing.“Sheknowsthescore.”Thescorebeing,nogirlfriendsanddefinitelynosleepovers.
Loganrestshisforearmsonthecounter,hisblueeyesgleamingashechangesthesubject.“Ican’tfuckingwaitfortheSt.Anthony’sgamethisweekend.Didyouhear?Braxton’ssuspensionisover.”
Thatgetsmyattention.“Noshit.He’splayingonSaturday?”
“Sureis.”Logan’sexpressionturnsdownrightgleeful.“I’mgonnaenjoysmashingthatasshole’sfaceintotheboards.”
GregBraxtonisSt.Anthony’sstarleftwingandacompletepieceofshithumanbeing.Theguy’sgotasadisticstreakthathe’snotafraidtounleashontheice,andwhenourteamsfacedoffinthepre-season,hesentoneofoursophomoreD-mentotheemergencyroomwithabrokenarm.Hencehisthreegamesuspension,thoughifitwereuptome,thepsychowould’vebeenslappedwithalifetimebanfromcollegehockey.
“Youneedtothrowdown,I’llberighttherewithyou,”Ipromise.
“I’mholdingyoutothat.Oh,andnextweekwe’vegotEastwoodheadingourway.”
Ireallyshouldpaymoreattentiontoourschedule.EastwoodCollegeisnumbertwoinourconference(secondtous,ofcourse)andourmatchupsarealwaysnail-biters.
Andshit,itsuddenlydawnsonmethatifIdon’tacetheEthicsredo,Iwon’tbeontheicefortheEastwoodgame.
“Fuck,”Imumble.
Loganswipesapieceofchickenoffmyplateandpopsitinhismouth.“What?”
Ihaven’ttoldmyteammatesaboutmygradesituationyetbecauseI’dbeenhopingmymidtermgradewouldn’thurtmetoobad,butnowitlookslikefessingupisunavoidable.
Sowithasigh,ItellLoganaboutmyFinEthicsandwhatitcouldmeanfortheteam.
“Dropthecourse,”hesaysinstantly.
“Can’t.Imissedthedeadline.”
“Crap.”
“Yup.”
Weexchangeaglumlook,andthenLoganflopsdownonthestoolbesidemineandrakesahandthroughhishair.“Thenyougottashapeup,man.Studyyourballsoffandacethismotherfucker.Weneedyou,G.”
“Iknow.”Igripmyforkinfrustration,thenputitdown,myappetitevanishing.Thisismyfirstyearascaptain,whichisamajorhonorconsideringI’monlyajunior.I’msupposedtofollowinmypredecessor’sfootstepsandleadmyteamtoanothernationalchampionship,buthowthehellcanIdothatifI’mnotontheicewiththem?
“I’vegotatutorlinedup,”Iassuremyteammate.“She’safrickin’genius.”
“Good.Payherwhatevershewants.I’llchipinifyouwant.”
Ican’thelpbutgrin.“Wow.You’reofferingtopartwithallyoursweet,sweetcash?Youmustreallywantmetoplay.”
“Damnstraight.It’sallaboutthedream,man.YouandmeinBruinsjerseys,remember?”
Ihavetoadmit,it’sadamnnicedream.It’swhatLoganandIhavebeentalkingaboutsincewewereassignedasroommatesinfreshmanyear.Ididn’tenterthedraftbecauseIwantedtofocusoncollege,butthere’snodoubtinmymindthatI’llgoproafterIgraduate.NodoubtaboutLogangettingdraftedeither.Theguy’sfasterthanlightningandagoddamnbeastontheice.
“Getthatfuckinggradeup,G,”heorders.“OtherwiseI’llkickyourass.”
“Coachwillkickitharder.”Imusterupasmile.“Don’tworry,I’monit.”
“Good.”Loganstealsanotherpieceofchickenbeforewanderingoutofthekitchen.
Iscarfdowntherestofmyfood,thenheadbackupstairstofindmyphone.It’stimetorampupthepressureonHannah-not-with-an-M.3
HANNAH
“IreallythinkyoushouldsingthatlastnoteinEmajor,”Cassinsists.He’slikeabrokenrecord,throwingoutthesameunreasonablesuggestioneachtimewefinishrunningthroughourduet.
Now,I’mapacifist.Idon’tbelieveinusingfiststosolveyourproblems,Ithinkorganizedfightingisbarbaric,andtheideaofwarmakesmequeasy
YetI’mthisclosetopunchingCassidyDonovanintheface
“Thekeyistoolowforme.”Mytoneisfirm,butit’simpossibletohidemyannoyance.
CassrunsafrustratedhandthroughhiswavydarkhairandturnstoMaryJane,who’sfidgetingawkwardlyonthepianobench.“YouknowI’mright,MJ,”hepleadsather.“It’llpackmoreofapunchifHannahandIendinthesamekeyinsteadofdoingtheharmony.”
“No,it’llhaveabiggerimpactifwedotheharmony,”Iargue.
I’mreadytoripmyownhairout.IknowexactlywhatCassisupto.Hewantstoendthesongonhisnote.He’sbeenpullingshitlikethiseversincewedecidedtoteamupforthewinterperformance,doingeverythinghecantosingleouthisownvoicewhileshovingmeintothebackground.
IfI’dknownwhatafuckingprimadonnaCasswas,Iwould’vesaidhellnotoaduet,butthejackassdecidedtoshowhistruecolorsafterwestartedrehearsals,andnowit’stoolatetobackout.I’veinvestedtoomuchtimeinthisduet,andhonestly,Itrulydolovethesong.MaryJanewroteanincrediblepiece,andapartofmereallydoesn’twanttoletherdown.Besides,Iknowforafactthatthefacultyprefersduetstosolos,becausethelastfourscholarship-winningperformanceshavebeenduets.Thejudgesgocuckoo-bananasforcomplexharmonies,andthiscompositionhastheminspades.
“MJ?”Cassprompts.
“Um…”
Icanseethepetiteblondemeltingunderhismagneticstare.Casshasthateffectonwomen.He’sinfuriatinglyhandsome,andhisvoicehappenstobephenomenal.Unfortunately,he’sfullyawareofboththeseassetsandhasnoqualmsusingthemtohisadvantage.
“MaybeCassisright,”MJmurmurs,avoidingmyeyesasshebetraysme.“Whydon’twetrytheEMajor,Hannah?Let’sjustdoitonceandseewhichoneworksbetter.”
BenedictArnold!Iwanttoshout,butIbitemytongue.Likeme,MJhasbeenforcedtodealwithCass’soutrageousdemandsand“brilliant”ideasforweeksnow,andIcan’tblameherfortryingtostrikeacompromise.
“Fine,”Igrumble.“Let’stryit.”
TriumphlightsCass’seyes,butitdoesn’tstaytherelong,becauseafterwesingthesongagain,it’sclearthathissuggestionstinks.Thenoteisfartoolowforme,andinsteadofcausingCass’sgorgeousbaritonetostandout,mypartsoundssoclumsilyoffthatitdrawsattentionawayfromhis.
“IthinkHannahshouldsticktotheoriginalkey.”MaryJanelooksatCassandbitesherlip,asifshe’safraidofhisreaction.
Butalthoughtheguyisarrogant,he’snotstupid.“Fine,”hesnaps.“We’lldoityourway,Hannah.”
Igritmyteeth.“Thankyou.”
Fortunately,ourhourisup,whichmeanstherehearsalspaceisabouttobelongtooneofthefirst-yearclasses.Eagertogetoutofthere,Iquicklygathermysheetmusicandslipintomypeacoat.ThelesstimeIhavetospendwithCass,thebetter.
God,Ican’tstandhim.
Ironically,we’resingingadeeplyemotionallovesong.
“Sametimetomorrow?”Heeyesmeexpectantly.
“No,tomorrowisourfouro’clockday,remember?IworkTuesdaynights.”
Displeasurehardenshisface.“Youknow,wecould’vemasteredthissongalongtimeagoifyourschedulewasn’tso…inconvenient.”
Iarchabrow.“Saystheguywhorefusestorehearseonweekends.BecauseIhappentobefreebothSaturdayandSundaynights.”
Hislipstighten,andthenhesauntersoffwithoutanotherword.
Dick.
Aheavysighechoesbehindme.IturnaroundandrealizeMJisstillatthepiano,stillbitingherlip.
“I’msorry,Hannah,”shesayssoftly.“WhenIaskedyouguystosingmysong,Ididn’trealizeCasswouldbesodifficult.”
MyannoyancethawswhenInoticehowupsetsheis.“Hey,it’snotyourfault,”Iassureher.“Iwasn’texpectinghimtobethismuchofajerkeither,buthe’sanamazingsinger,solet’sjusttrytofocusonthat,okay?”
“You’reanamazingsinger,too.That’swhyIchosethetwoofyou.Icouldn’timagineanyoneelsebringingthesongtolife,youknow?”
Ismileather.Shereallyisasweetgirl,nottomentiononeofthemosttalentedsongwritersI’veevermet.Everypiecethat’sperformedintheshowcasehastobecomposedbyasongwritingmajor,andevenbeforeMJapproachedme,Ihadalreadyplannedonaskingtouseoneofhersongs.
“Ipromiseyou,we’regoingtosingtheshitoutofyoursong,MJ.IgnoreCass’sbullshittantrums.Ithinkhejustlikesarguingforthesakeofarguing.”
Shelaughs.“Yeah,probably.Seeyoutomorrow?”
“Yep.Fouro’clocksharp.”
Igiveheralittlewave,thenleavethechoirroomandheadoutside.
OneofmyfavoritethingsaboutBriaristhecampus.Thebuildings,ancientandcoveredwithstrandsofivy,areconnectedtoeachotherbycobblestonepathslinedwithsweepingelmsandwrought-ironbenches.Theuniversityisoneoftheoldestinthecountry,anditsalumnirostercontainsdozensofinfluentialpeople,includingmorethanonepresident.
ButthebestthingaboutBriarishowsafeitis.Seriously,ourcrimerateisnexttozero,whichprobablyhasalottodowithDeanFarrow’sdedicationtothesafetyofhisstudents.Theschoolinvestsatonofmoneyinsecurityintheformofstrategicallyplacedcamerasandguardsthatpatrolthegroundstwenty-fourhoursaday.Notthatit’saprisonoranything.Thesecurityguysarefriendlyandunobtrusive.Inallhonesty,IbarelynoticethemwhenI’mwanderingaroundcampus.
Mydormisafive-minutewalkfromthemusicbuilding,andIbreatheasighofreliefwhenIwalkthroughBristolHouse’smassiveoakdoors.It’sbeenalongday,andallIwanttodoistakeahotshowerandcrawlintobed.
ThespaceIsharewithAllieismoreofasuitethanaregulardormroom,whichisoneoftheperksofbeingupperclassmen.Wehavetwobedrooms,asmallcommonarea,andanevensmallerkitchen.Theonlydownsideisthecommunalbathroomwesharewiththefourothergirlsonourfloor,butluckilynoneofusareslobs,sothetoiletsandshowersusuallystaysqueakyclean.
“Hey.You’rebacklate.”Myroommatepokesherheadintomybedroom,suckingonthestrawpokingoutofherglass.She’sdrinkingsomethinggreenandchunkyandabsolutelygrosslooking,butit’sasightI’vegrownaccustomedto.Alliehasbeen“juicing”forthepasttwoweeks,whichmeansthateverymorningIwakeuptothedeafeningwhirofherblenderasshepreparesherickyliquidmealsfortheday.
“Ihadrehearsal.”Ikickoffmyshoesandtossmycoatonthebed,thenproceedtostripdowntomyunderweardespitethefactthatAllieisstillinthedoorway.
Onceuponatime,Ihadbeentooshytogetnakedinfrontofher.Whenwesharedadoubleinfreshmanyear,IspentthefirstfewweekschangingundermyblanketorwaitinguntilAllielefttheroom.Butthethingaboutcollegeis,there’snosuchthingasprivacy,andsoonerorlateryoujusthavetoacceptthat.IstillrememberhowembarrassedIwasthefirsttimeIsawAllie’sbarebreasts,butthegirlhaszeromodesty,andwhenshe’dcaughtmestaring,shejustwinkedandsaid,“I’vegotitgoingon,huh?”
Afterthat,Ididn’tbotherwiththeunder-the-blanketroutineanymore.
“Solisten…”
Hercasualopeningraisesmyguard.I’velivedwithAlliefortwoyears.Longenoughtoknowthatwhenshestartsasentencewith“Solisten,”it’susuallyfollowedbysomethingIdon’twanttohear.
“Hmmm?”IsayasIgrabmybathrobefromthehookonthedoor.
“There’sapartyatSigmahouseonWednesdaynight.”Herblueeyestakeonasternglint.“You’recomingwithme.”
Igroan.“Afratparty?Noway.”
“Yesway.”Shefoldsherarmsoverherchest.“Midtermsareover,soyoudon’tgettousethatasanexcuse.Andyoupromisedyou’dmakeanefforttobemoresocialthisyear.”
Ihadpromisedthat,but…here’sthething.Idon’tlikeparties.
Iwasrapedataparty.
God,Ihatethatword.Rape.It’soneofthefewwordsintheEnglishlanguagethathasavisceraleffectwhenyouhearit.Likeabone-jarringslaptothefaceorthechilloficewaterbeingdumpedoveryourhead.It’suglyanddemoralizing,andItrysohardnottoletitcontrolmylife.I’veworkedthroughwhathappenedtome.Believeme,Ihave.
Iknowitwasn’tmyfault.IknowIdidn’taskforitordosomethingtoinviteit.Itdidn’tstealmyabilitytotrustpeopleorcausemetofeareverymanthatcrossesmypath.Yearsoftherapyhelpedmeseethattheburdenofblameliessolelyonhim.Therewassomethingwrongwithhim.Notme.Neverme.AndthemostimportantlessonIlearnedisthatI’mnotavictim—I’masurvivor.
Butthat’snottosaytheassaultdidn’tchangeme.Itabsolutelydid.There’sareasonIcarrypeppersprayinmypurseandhave911readytodialonmyphoneifI’mwalkingaloneatnight.There’sareasonIdon’tdrinkinpublicoracceptbeveragesfromanyone,notevenAllie,becausethere’salwaysachanceshemightunwittinglybehandingmeacupthat’sbeentamperedwith.
Andthere’sareasonIdon’tgotomanyparties.Iguessit’smyversionofPTSD.Asoundorasmelloraglimpseofsomethingharmlessmakesthememoriesspiraltothesurface.Ihearmusicblaringandloudchatterandraucouslaughter.Ismellstalebeerandsweat.I’minacrowdofpeople.AndsuddenlyI’mfifteenyearsoldagainandrightbackatMelissaMayer’sparty,trappedinmyownpersonalnightmare.
Alliesoftenshertonewhensheseesmydistressedface.“We’vedonethisbefore,Han-Han.It’llbelikeallthoseothertimes.You’llneverbeoutofmysight,andneitherofuswilldrinkasingledrop.Ipromise.”
Shametugsatmygut.Shameandregretandatouchofawe,becauseman,shetrulyisanincrediblefriend.Shedoesn’thavetostaysoberandremainvigilantjusttomakemefeelcomfortable,butshedoesiteverytimewegoout,andIloveherdeeplyforit.
ButIhatethatshehastodoit.
“Okay,”Irelent,notjustforhersake,butmyown.IhadpromisedherI’dbemoresocial,butIalsopromisedmyselfthatIwouldmakeanefforttotrynewthingsthisyear.Tolowermyguardandstopbeingsodamnafraidoftheunfamiliar.Afratpartymightnotbemyideaofagreattime,butwhoknows,maybeI’llendupenjoyingit.
Allie’sfacebrightens.“Boo-yah!Andlook,Ididn’tevenhavetoplaymytrumpcard.”
“Whattrumpcard?”Iasksuspiciously.
Agrinliftsthecornersofhermouth.“Justinisgoingtobethere.”
Mypulsespeedsup.“Howdoyouknow?”
“BecauseSeanandIranintohiminthedininghallandhesaidhe’llbethere.Iguessabunchofthemeatheadswerealreadyplanningoncoming.”
Iscowlather.“He’snotameathead.”
“Aw,lookhowcuteyouare,defendingafootballplayer.Holdon—letmegooutsidetoseeifpigsareflyinginthesky.”
“Haha.”
“Seriously,Han,it’sweird.Imean,don’tgetmewrong,I’mtotallyonboardwithyoucrushingonsomeone.It’sbeen,what,ayearsinceyouandDevonbrokeup?ButIjustdon’tunderstandhowyou,ofallpeople,areintoajock.”
Discomfortclimbsupmyspine.“Justinis…he’snotliketherestofthem.He’sdifferent.”
“Saysthegirlwho’sneverspokenasinglewordtohim.”
“He’sdifferent,”Iinsist.“He’squietandseriousandfromwhatI’veseen,hedoesn’tbanganythinginaskirtthewayhisteammatesdo.Oh,andhe’ssmart—IsawhimreadingHemingwayinthequadlastweek.”
“Itwasprobablyarequiredreading”
“Itwasn’t.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“Howdoyouknowthat?”
Ifeeltheblushrisinginmycheeks.“Somegirlaskedhimaboutitinclasstheotherday,andhetoldherHemingwayishisfavoriteauthor.”
“OhmyGod.You’reeavesdroppingonhisconversationsnow?You’resuchacreeper.”Allieheavesoutasigh.“Okay,that’sit.Wednesdaynightyou’reexchangingactualdialoguewiththeguy.”
“Maybe,”Isaynoncommittally.“Iftheopportunityarises…”
“I’llmakeitarise.Seriously.We’renotleavingthatfrathouseuntilyoutalktoJustin.Idon’tcareifit’sjustyousayinghey,howareya.You’retalkingtohim.”Shejabsherfingerintheair.“Capiche?”
Isnicker.
“Capiche?”sherepeatsinastricttone.
Afterabeat,Ireleaseadefeatedbreath.“Capiche.”
“Good.NowhurryupandtakeashowersowecanwatchacoupleepisodesofTedLassobeforebed.”
“Oneepisode.I’mtooexhaustedforanymorethanthat.”Igrinather.“Capiche?”
“Capiche,”shegrumblesbeforewaltzingoutofmyroom.
IchuckletomyselfasIgathertherestofmyshowersupplies,butI’msidetrackedyetagain—I’vebarelytakentwostepstothedoorwhenacatmeowsinmypurse.Thehigh-pitchedwailistheringtoneIchosefortextmessagesbecauseit’stheonlyoneannoyingenoughtogetmyattention.
Isetmytoiletrycaseonthedresser,riflethroughmybaguntilIlocatemycellphone,thenscanthemessageonthescreen.
Hey,it’sGarrett.Wantedtohammeroutthedeetsre:tutoringsched.
Oh,forfuck’ssake.
Idon’tknowwhethertolaughorgroan.Theguy’stenacious,I’llgivehimthat.Sighing,Iquicklyshootbackatext,shortandnotatallsweet.
Me:How’dugetthisnumber?
Him:Studygroupsignupsheet.
Crap.I’dsignedupforthegroupatthestartofthesemester,butthatwasbeforeCassdecidedwehadtorehearseonMondaysandWednesdaysattheexacttimethestudygroupmeetsup.
AnothermessagepopsupbeforeIcanrespond,andwhoeversaiditisn’tpossibletodetectaperson’stoneviatextwastotallywrong.BecauseGarrett’stoneisfullonirritable.
Him:Ifujustshoweduptostudygroup,Iwouldn’thavetotextu.
Me:Udon’thavetotextmeatall.Actually,I’dpreferifudidn’t.
Him:What’llittaketogetutosayyes?
Me:Absolutelynothing.
Him:Great.Soyou’lldoitforfree.
ThegroanI’vebeenholdingslipsout.
Me:Nothappening.
Him:Howbouttmrwnight?I’mfreeateight
Me:Can’t.IhavetheSpanishFlu.Highlycontagious.Ijustsavedyourlife,dude.
Him:Aw,Iappreciatetheconcern.ButI’mimmunetopandemicsthatwipedout40-milpeoplefrom1918to1919.
Me:Howisityouknowsomuchaboutpandemics?
Him:I’mahistorymajor,baby.Iknowtonsofuselessfacts.
Ugh,againwiththebabything?Allrighty.Clearlyit’stimetoputanendtothisbeforehegetshisflirton
Me:Well,nicechattingwithyou.Goodluckonthemakeupexam.
WhenseveralsecondstickbyandGarrettdoesn’trespond,Igivemyselfamentalpatonthebackforsuccessfullygettingridofhim.
I’mabouttowalkoutthedoorwhenmyphonemeowsandapicturepopsup.Againstmybetterjudgment,Iclickonit,andamomentlater,abarechestfillsthescreen.Yep.I’mtalkingsmoothtannedskin,sculptedpecs,andthetightestsix-packI’veeverseen.
Ican’thelpbutsnortoutloud.
Me:FFS.Didyoujustsendmeapicofyourchest?!
Him:Yup.Diditwork?
Me:Inickingmeout?Yes.Success!
Him:Inchangingyourmind.I’mtryingtobutteruuphere.
Me:Ew.Gobutterupsomeoneelse.PS–I’mpostingthatpiconmy-bri.
I’mreferring,ofcourse,toMyBriar,ourschool’sequivalentofFacebook,whichninety-fivepercentofthestudentbodyison.
Him:Goforit.Lotsofchickswillbehappytohaveitintheirspankbanks.
Me:Losethisnumber,dude.Imeanit.
Idon’twaitforaresponse.Ijusttossmyphoneonthebedandgotakeashower.4
HANNAH
BriarUniversityisfivemilesfromthetownofHastings,Massachusetts,whichhasonemainstreetandonlyabouttwo-dozenshopsandrestaurants.Thetownissominisculeit’samiracleImanagedtolandapart-timejobthere,andIthankmyluckystarsforiteverydaybecausemoststudentsareforcedtomakethehour-longdrivetoBostoniftheywanttoworkduringtheschoolyear.Forme,it’seitheraten-minutebusrideorafive-minutedrive,andthenI’matDella’s,thedinerI’vebeenwaitressingatsincefreshmanyear.
TonightI’mluckyandgettodriveover.IhaveanarrangementwithTracy,oneofthegirlswholivesonmyfloor.Sheletsmeusehercarwhenevershedoesn’tneeditaslongasIreturnitwithafulltankofgas.It’sasweetdeal,especiallyinthewinterwhenthewholeareaturnsintoasnow-coveredskatingrink.
Idon’tparticularlylikemyjob,butIdon’thateiteither.Itpayswellandit’sclosetocampus,soreally,Ican’tcomplain.
Scratchthat—tonightI’mdefinitelyallowedtocomplain.Becausethirtyminutesbeforemyshiftends,IfindGarrettGrahaminoneofmybooths.
Seriously.
Doesthisguyevergiveup?
Ihavenodesiretogooverthereandservehim,butIdon’thavemuchofachoice.Lisa,theotherwaitressonduty,isbusytendingtoagroupoffacultymembersatatableacrosstheroom,andmybossDellaisbehindthebaby-blueFormicacounterdishingoutslicesofpecanpietothreefreshmangirlssittingonthetallswivelstools.
IsetmyjawandmarchuptoGarrett,makingmydispleasureobviousasImeethistwinklinggrayeyes.Herunsahandthroughhiscroppeddarkhairandflashesalopsidedgrin.
“Heythere,Hannah.Fancymeetingyouhere.”
“Yeah,fancy,”Imutter,yankingmyorderpadoutofmyapronpocket.“WhatcanIgetyou?”
“Atutor.”
“Sorry,that’snotonthemenu.”Ismilesweetly.“Weservereallygoodpecanpie,though.”
“YouknowwhatIdidlastnight?”hesays,withoutacknowledgingthesarcasm.
“Yep.Youweretextstalkingme.”
Herollshiseyes.“Beforethat,Imean.”
Ipretendtothinkitover.“Um…youhookedupwithacheerleader?No,youhookedupwiththegirls’hockeyteam.No,wait,they’reprobablynotditzyenoughforyou.Istickwithmyoriginalguess—cheerleader.”
“Sororitysister,actually,”hesayssmugly.“ButI’mtalkingaboutwhatIdidbeforethat.”Heraisesonedarkeyebrow.“ButI’mveryintriguedbyyourinterestinmysexlife.Icangiveyoudetailsaboutthatanothertimeifyouwant.”
“Idon’t.”
“Anothertime,”heechoesinadismissivetone,foldinghishandsontheblue-and-white-checkeredtablecloth.
He’sgotbighandswithlongfingers,shortnails,andknucklesthatareslightlyredandcracked.Iwonderifhe’sbeeninafightrecently,butthenIrealizethebusted-upknucklesareprobablyahockeyplayerthing.
“Iwasatstudygroupyesterday,”heinformsme.“Therewereeightotherpeoplethere,andyouknowwhatthehighestmarkinthegroupwas?”HeblurtsouttheanswerbeforeIcanhazardaguess.“C-plus.AndourcombinedaveragewasaD.HowamIsupposedtopassthismakeupifI’mstudyingwithpeoplewhoareasdumbasIam?Ineedyou,Wellsy.”
Wellsy?Isthatanickname?AndhowonearthdoesheknowthatmylastnameisWells?Inevertold—argh.Damnsign-upsheet.
Garrettnoticesmysurprisedlookandcockshisbrowsagain.“Ilearnedalotaboutyouinstudygroup.Gotyournumber,yourfullname,evenfoundoutwhereyouwork.”
“Congratulations,youreallyareastalker.”
“Nope,justthorough.IliketoknowwhatI’mupagainst.”
“JesusHaroldChrist!I’mnottutoringyou,okay?Gobugsomebodyelse.”Ipointatthemenuinfrontofhim.“Areyouordering?Becauseifnot,thenpleasegoawayandletmedomyjobinpeace.”
“JesusHaroldChrist?”Garrettsnickersbeforepickingupthelaminatedmenuandgivingitacursoryglance.“I’llhaveaturkeyclub.”Hesetsthemenudown,thenreachesforitagain.“Andabacondoublecheeseburger.Justtheburger,nofries.Actually,Ichangedmymind—yestothefries.Oh,andasideorderofonionrings.”
Myjawalmosthitsthefloor.“You’reseriouslygoingtoeatallthat?”
Hegrins.“Ofcourse.I’magrowingboy.”
Boy?Nuh-uh.I’monlynoticingitnow—probablybecauseI’vebeentoodistractedbyhowinsufferableheis—butGarrettGrahamisallman.There’snothingboyishabouthim,nothischiseledgoodlooksorhistallframeorthatrippedchestofhis,whichsuddenlyflashestomindasIrememberthepicturehesentme.
“I’llalsotakeasliceofthatpecanpieandaDr.Peppertodrink.Oh,andsometutoring.”
“Notonthemenu,”Isaycheerfully.“Buttherestiscomingrightup.”
Beforehecanargue,IabandonhisboothandheadtothebackcountertoplacehisorderwithJulio,ournightcook.Ananosecondlater,Lisarushesoverandaddressesmeinahushedvoice.
“OhmyGod.Youknowwhothatis,right?”
“Yep.”
“It’sGarrettGraham”
“Iknow,”Ianswerdryly.“That’swhyIsaidyep.”
Lisalooksoutraged.“Whatiswrongwithyou?Whyaren’tyoufreakingoutrightnow?GarrettGrahamissittinginyourbooth.Hetalkedtoyou.”
“Holyshit,hedid?Imean,hislipsweremoving,butIdidn’trealizehewastalking.”
IrollmyeyesandwalkovertothedrinkstationtopourGarrett’sdrink.Idon’tlookhisway,butIcanfeelthosesmokygrayeyesfollowingmyeverymovement.He’sprobablysendingtelepathicordersformetotutorhim.Well,toobadforhim.There’snowayI’mwastingthelittlesparetimeIhaveonacollegehockeyplayerwhothinkshe’sarockstar.
Lisatrailsafterme,oblivioustomysarcasmandstillgushingaboutGraham.“He’ssogorgeous.Likeunbelievablygorgeous.”Hervoicelowerstoawhisper.“AndIhearhe’samazinginbed.”
Isnort.“Heprobablystartedthatrumorhimself.”
“No,SamanthaRichardsontoldme.ShehookedupwithhimlastyearattheThetakegger.Saiditwasthebestsexofherlife.”
Ihavenoresponse,becauseIcouldn’tcarelessaboutthesexlifeofsomegirlIdon’tevenknow.Instead,IshrugandholdouttheDr.Pepper.“Youknowwhat?Whydon’tyoutakehisbooth?”
ThewayLisagasps,you’dthinkIjusthandedheracheckforfivemilliondollars.“Areyousure?”
“Yep.He’sallyours.”
“OhmyGod.”Shetakesastepforwardasifshe’sgoingtohugme,butthenhergazedartstoGarrettandsheappearstohavesecondthoughtsaboutbroadcastingherterriblyunwarrantedjoy.“Ioweyousobigforthis,Han.”
Iwanttotellherthatshe’sactuallydoingmethefavor,butshe’salreadydashingtowardtheboothtowaitonherprince.IwatchinamusementasGarrett’sexpressioncloudsoveratLisa’sapproach.Hepicksuptheglassshesetsinfrontofhim,thenmeetsmygazeandslantshishead.
Asiftosay,you’renotgettingridofmethateasily.
GARRETT
She’snotgettingridofmethateasily.
ClearlyHannahWellshasn’tbeenaroundmanyathletes.We’reastubbornlot,andthemainthingweallhaveincommon?Wenever,evergiveup.
Godhelpme,butI’mgoingtoconvincethisgirltotutorme,evenifIdietrying.
ButnowthatHannahhasdumpedmeoffontheotherwaitress,it’salongwhilebeforeIgetanotheropportunitytopleadmycase.Forthenexttwentyminutes,Ienduretheblatantflirtingandundisguisedinterestofthecurly-hairedbrunettewho’sservingme,butalthoughI’mpolitetoher,Idon’tflirtback.
TheonlypersonI’minterestedintonightisHannah,andmygazestickstoherlikeglueassheworkstheroom.Iwouldn’tputitpasthertomakearunforitwhenI’mnotlooking.
Heruniformiskindahot,ifI’mbeinghonest.Powder-bluedresswithawhitecollar,bigbuttonsdownthefront,andashortwhiteapronaroundherwaist.LookslikeanoutfitrightoutofGrease,whichIguessmakessenseconsideringDella’sisa50s-themeddiner.IcaneasilypictureHannahWellsfittinginduringthatera.Herdark,shoulder-lengthhairhasaslightwavetoit,andherbangsarepinnedtothesidewithabluebarrette,givingthehairstyleanold-fashionedvibe.
AsIwatchherwork,Iwonderwhatherstoryis.Iaskedaroundatstudygroup,butnobodyknewmuchabouther.Oneguytoldmeshe’sfromasmalltownintheMidwest.Someoneelsesaidshedatedsomeguyinabandallthroughsophomoreyear.Otherthanthosetwomeagerdetails,she’satotalmystery.
“CanIgetyouanythingelse?”mywaitressaskseagerly.
She’slookingatmelikeI’macelebrityorsomeshit,butI’musedtotheattention.Fact:whenyou’rethecaptainofaDivisionIhockeyteamthat’swontwoconsecutivenationaltitles,peopleknowwhoyouare.Andwomenwanttofuckyou.
“No,thanks.Justthebill,please.”
“Oh.”Herdisappointmentisunmistakable.“Sure.Comingrightup.”
Beforeshecango,Ivoiceagruffquestion.“DoyouknowwhenHannah’sshiftisover?”
Herdisappointedexpressiontransformsintooneofdisbelief.“Why?”
“She’sinoneofmyclasses.Iwantedtotalktoheraboutanassignment.”
Thebrunette’sfacerelaxes,butaflickerofsuspicionlingersinhereyes.“She’soffnow,butshecan’tleaveuntilhertabledoes.”
Iglanceoverattheonlyotheroccupiedtableinthediner,whereamiddle-agedcoupleissitting.Themanhasjustpulledouthiswallet,whilehiswifepeersatthebillthroughherhorn-rimmedglasses.
Ipayformyfood,bidmywaitressgoodbye,thenheadoutsidetowaitforHannah.Fiveminuteslater,theoldercouplewaltzesoutofthediner.Aminuteafterthat,Hannahappears,butifsheseesmelurkingnearthedoor,shedoesn’tleton.Shesimplybuttonsuphercoatandtakesofftowardthesideofthebuilding.
Iwastenotimehurryingafterher.“Wellsy,waitup.”
Shelooksoverhershoulder,frowningdeeply.“FortheloveofGod,I’mnottutoringyou.”
“Sureyouare.”Ishrug.“Ijustneedtofigureoutwhatyouwantinreturn.”
Hannahwhirlsaroundlikeadark-hairedtornado.“Iwanttonottutoryou.That’swhatIwant.”
“Allright,soit’sobviousyou’renotinterestedinmoney,”Imuseasifshehasn’tspoken.“Hastobesomethingelsethen.”Imullitoverforabeat.“Booze?Weed?”
“No,andno,andgetlost.”
Shestartswalkingagain,herwhitesneakersslappingthesidewalkasshemarchestowardthegravellotatthesideofthediner.ShemakesabeelineforthesilverToyotahatchbackparkedrightnexttomyJeep.
“Okaythen.Iguessyou’renotintopartyfavors.”
Ifollowhertothedriver’sside,butshecompletelyignoresmeassheunlocksthedoorandtossesherpurseintothepassengerseat.
“Howaboutadate?”Ioffer.
Thatgetsherattention.Shestraightensuplikesomeoneshovedametalrodupherspine,thenswivelsherheadinastonishment.“What?”
“Ah.I’vegotyourattention.”
“No,you’vegotmydisgust.YouactuallythinkIwanttogooutwithyou?”
“Everyonewantstogooutwithme.”
Sheburstsoutlaughing.
MaybeIshouldfeelinsultedbytheresponse,butIlikethesoundofherlaughter.It’sgotamusicalqualitytoit,ahuskypitchthatticklesmyears.
“Justoutofcuriosity,”shesays,“afteryouwakeupinthemorning,doyouadmireyourselfinthemirrorforonehourortwo?”
“Two,”Ireplycheerfully.
“Doyouhighfiveyourself?”
“Ofcoursenot.”Ismirk.“Ikisseachofmybicepsandthenpointtotheceilingandthankthebigmanupstairsforcreatingsuchaperfectmalespecimen.”
Shesnorts.“Uh-huh.Well,sorrytoburstyourbubble,Mr.Perfect,butI’mnotinterestedindatingyou.”
“Ithinkyou’remisunderstanding,Wellsy.I’mnotlookingtomakealoveconnectionwithyou.Iknowyou’renotintome.Ifitmakesyoufeelbetter,I’mnotintoyoueither.”
“Thatdoesmakemefeelbetter.IwasstartingtoworryImightactuallybeyourtype,andthat’stooterrifyingtoevencontemplate.”
Whenshetriestoduckintothecar,Icurlmyfingersoverthedoorframetokeepitopen.“I’mtalkingaboutimage,”Iclarify.
“Image,”sheechoes.
“Yeah.Doyouthinkyou’dbethefirstgirlwhowentoutwithmetoboostherpopularity?Happensallthetime.”
Hannahlaughsagain.“I’mperfectlycontentwithmycurrentrungonthesocialladder,butthankssomuchforofferingto‘boostmypopularity.’You’reaprince,Garrett.Really.”
Frustrationscramblesupmythroat.“What’llittaketochangeyourmind?”
“Nothing.You’rewastingyourtime.”Sheshakesherhead,lookingasfrustratedasIfeel.“Youknow,ifyoutakealltheeffortyou’reusingtoharassmeandchannelittoyourstudies,you’dgetanA-plus-plus-plusonthatmidterm.”
Sheshovesmyhandoutoftheway,slidesintothedriver’sseat,andshutsthedoor.Asecondlater,theengineroarstolife,andI’mprettysurethatifIhadn’tsteppedbackintime,shewould’verunrightovermyfoot.
IwonderifHannahWellswasanathleteinanotherlife,becausesheisonestubbornwoman.
Sighing,Istareatherblinkingredtaillightsandtrytofigureoutmynextmove.
Absolutelynothingcomestomind.5
HANNAH
Alliestaystruetoherword.It’stwentyminutesintotheparty,andshe’syettoleavemyside,despitethefactthatherboyfriendhasbeenbegginghertodancewithhimsincethesecondwearrived.
Ifeellikeajackass.
“Okay,thisisridiculous.GodancewithSeanalready.”Ihavetoshoutinordertobeheardoverthemusic,which,shockinglyenough,isprettydecent.Iexpectedshittydancebeatsorvulgarhip-hop,butwhoever’smanningthestereosystemseemstohaveanaffinityforindierockandBritpunk.
“Naah,it’sfine,”Allieshoutsback.“I’lljustchillherewithyou.”
Right,becauselurkingagainstthewalllikeacreeperandwatchingmeclingtothebottleofEvianIbroughtfromthedormiswaymorefunthanspendingtimewithherboyfriend.
Thelivingroomisteemingwithpeople.Fratbrothersandsororitysistersgalore,buttonightthere’salotmorevarietythanyouusuallyfindataGreekevent.Ispotseveraldramamajorsnearthepooltable.Afewgirlsfromthefieldhockeyteamchattingbythefireplace.AgroupofguysthatI’mprettysurearefreshmanstandingatthebuilt-inbar.Allthefurniturehasbeenpushedagainstthewood-paneledwallstocreateamakeshiftdancefloorinthecenteroftheroom.EverywhereIlook,Iseepeopledancingandlaughingandshootingtheshit.
AndpoorAllieisstucktomelikeVelcro,unabletoenjoyasecondofthepartyshewantedtogoto.
“Go,”Iurgeher.“Really.Youhaven’tseenSeansincemidtermsstarted.Youdeservetospendsomequalitytimewithyourman.”
Shehesitates.
“I’llbefine.KatieandShawnaarerightoverthere—I’llhangoutwiththemforabit.”
“Areyousure?”
“Positive.Icameheretosocialize,remember?”Grinning,Igiveheratinysmackonthebutt.“Getouttahere,babe.”
Shegrinsbackandstartstowalkaway,thenholdsupheriPhoneandwavesitintheair.“SOSifyouneedme,”shecallsout.“Anddon’tleavewithouttellingme!”
Themusicdrownsoutmyresponse,butshecatchesmynodbeforeshehurriesoff.Iseeherblondheadweavingthroughthecrowd,andthenshe’satSean’ssideandhe’shappilydraggingherintothethrongofdancers.
See?Icanbeagoodfriendtoo.
ExceptnowI’mallalone,andthetwogirlsIwasplanningonlatchingontoarechattingwithtwoverycuteguys.Idon’twanttointerrupttheflirtfest,soIsearchthecrowdforanyoneelseImightknow—evenCasswouldbeasightforsoreeyesatthispoint—butIdon’tspotanyfamiliarfaces.Stiflingasigh,Ihunkerdowninmylittlecornerandspendthenextfewminutespeople-watching.
Whenseveralguysglancemywaywithunabashedinterest,IhavetocursemyselfforallowingAllietochoosemyoutfittonight.Mydressisn’tindecentbyanymeans,justaknee-lengthgreenshiftwithamodestneckline,butithugsmycurvesmoretightlythanI’mcomfortablewith,andtheblackheelsIpaireditwithmakemylegslookalotlongerthantheyactuallyare.Ididn’tputupanargumentabouttheoutfitbecauseI’dwantedtocatchJustin’seye,butinmyeagernesstomakeitonhisradar,Ididn’tthinkaboutalltheotherradarsImightappearon,andtheattentionI’mgettingmakesmenervous
“Hey.”
Iturnmyheadasacuteguywithwavybrownhairandlight-blueeyessidlesuptome.He’swearingapoloshirtandholdingaredplasticcupinhishand,andhe’ssmilingatmeasifweknoweachother
“Uh.Hey,”Ianswer.
Whenhenoticesmyquizzicalexpression,hissmilewidens.“I’mJimmy.WehaveBritishLittogether?”
“Oh.Right.”Ihonestlydon’trememberseeinghimbefore,butthereareabouttwohundredstudentsinthatclass,soallthefacesblurintooneanotherafterawhile.
“You’reHannah,right?”
Inod,shiftingindiscomfort,becausehisgazehasalreadyloweredtomychestadozentimesinthefivesecondswe’vebeentalking.
Jimmypausesasifhe’stryingtothinkofsomethingelsetosay.Ican’tthinkofanythingeitherbecauseIsuckatsmalltalk.IfhewassomeoneIwasinterestedin,I’daskhimabouthisclasses,orifhehasajob,orwhatkindofmusiche’sinto,buttheonlyguyIcareaboutatthemomentisJustin—andhestillhasn’tshownup.
ThefactthatI’msearchingthecrowdforhimmakesmefeellikeatotalloser.Truthbetold,Allie’snottheonlyonewonderingwhatmydealis.I’mwonderingtoo,becauseseriously,whyamIsoobsessedwiththisguy?Hedoesn’tknowIexist.Andhe’sajock,toboot.ImayaswellbeinterestedinGarrettGraham,forfuck’ssake.Atleastheofferedtogooutwithme.
Andwhatdoyouknow—thesecondIthinkaboutGarrett,thedevilhimselfenterstheroom.
Ididn’texpecttoseehimtonight,andIimmediatelyduckmyheadsohedoesn’tspotme.MaybeifIconcentratehardenough,I’llchameleonintothewallbehindmeandhewon’tknowI’mhere.
Luckily,Garrettisoblivioustomypresence.Hestopstotalktoacoupleofguys,thensaunterstowardthebarontheothersideoftheroom,wherehe’simmediatelyswarmedbyhalfadozengirlswhobattheireyelashesandthrusttheirboobsouttogethisattention
Besideme,Jimmyrollshiseyes.“Jeez.Thebigmanoncampusroutinegetsold,huh?”
Irealizehe’slookingatGarretttoo,andthedisgustonhisfaceisunmistakable.“You’renotafanofGraham’s?”Isaydryly.
“Youwantthetruthorthehouseline?”
“Houseline?”
“He’samemberofthisfrat,”Jimmyexplains.“Sotechnicallythatmakesusbrothers.”Heair-quotestheword.“AndaSigmamanlovesallhisbrothers.”
Ihavetogrin.“Okay,sothat’sthehouseline.What’sthetruth?”
Themusicswells,soheleansincloser.Hislipsarecentimetersfrommyearasheconfides,“Can’tstandtheguy.Hisego’sbiggerthanthishouse.”
Lookatthat—I’vemetakindredspirit.Anotherpersonwho’snotacard-carryingmemberofTeamGarrett.
ExcepttheconspiratorialsmileIgivehimisclearlytakenthewrongway,becauseJimmy’seyesgoheavy-lidded.“So…wannadance?”hedrawls.
Idon’t.Atall.ButjustasIopenmymouthtosayno,Iglimpseaflashofblackfromthecornerofmyeye.Garrett’sblackT-shirt.Crap.He’sspottedmeandnowhe’sheadingourway.Judgingbyhisdeterminedstride,he’sreadytodobattlewithmeagain.
“Sure,”Iblurtout,eagerlygrabbingJimmy’shand.“Let’sdance.”
Aslowsmilespreadsacrosshismouth.
Uh-oh.MaybeIsoundedabittooeagerthere.
Butit’stoolatetochangemymind,becausehe’sleadingmetowardthedancefloor.Andjustmyluck—thesongchangesthesecondwegetthere.TheRamoneshavebeenreplacedbyaLadyGagatrack.Notafastone,either,buttheslowversionof“PokerFace.”Great.
Jimmyplantsbothhishandsonmyhips.
Afterabeat,Ireluctantlyholdontohisshoulders,andwebegintoswaytothemusic.It’sawkwardashell,butatleastImanagedtoevadeGarrett,whoisnowregardinguswithafrown,hishandshookedinthebeltloopsofhisfadedbluejeans.
Whenourgazesmeet,Ishoothimahalfsmileandawhat-can-you-dolook,andheimmediatelynarrowshiseyesasifheknowsI’mdancingwithJimmyjustsoIdon’thavetotalktohim.Thenaprettyblondetoucheshisarm,andhebreakstheeyecontact.
JimmytwistshisheadtoseewhoI’mlookingat.“YouknowGarrett?”Hesoundsmorethanalittlewary.
Ishrug.“He’sinoneofmyclasses.”
“Areyoufriends?”
“Nope.”
“Goodtohear.”
Garrettandtheblondeduckoutoftheroomjustthen,andImentallypatmyselfonthebackformysuccessfulevasiontactics.
“Doesheliveherewithyouguys?”God,thissongistakingforever,butI’mtryingtomakeconversationbecauseIfeellikeIhavetofinishoutthedanceafterbeingso“enthusiastic”aboutit.
“No,thankfuck,”Jimmyanswers.“He’sgotahouseoff-campus.He’salwaysbraggingaboutit,butIbetyouhisfatherpayshisrent.”
Iwrinklemyforehead.“Whydoyousaythat?Ishisfamilyrichorsomething?”
Jimmylookssurprised.“Youdon’tknowwhohisdadis?”
“No.ShouldI?”
“It’sPhilGraham.”Whenthegrooveinmyforeheaddeepens,Jimmyelaborates.“ForwardfortheNewYorkRangers?Two-timeStanleyCupchamp?Hockeylegend?”
TheonehockeyteamIknowanythingaboutistheChicagoBlackhawks,andthat’sonlybecausemydadisarabidfanandmakesmewatchthegameswithhim.Ergo,IhavezeroknowledgeofamanwhoplayedfortheRangers,what,twentyyearsago?ButI’mnotsurprisedtohearthatGarretthailsfromhockeyroyalty.He’sgotthatsuperiorsenseofentitlementdownpat.
“IwonderwhyGarrettdidn’tgotocollegeinNewYorkthen,”Isaypolitely.
“GrahamSr.finishedouthiscareerinBoston,”Jimmyexplains.“IguessthefamilydecidedtostayinMassachusettsafterheretired.”
Thesongblessedlycomestoanend,andIhastilyexcusemyselfbypretendingIneedtousethewashroom.Jimmymakesmepromisetodancewithhimagain,thenwinksandwandersofftowardthebeerpongtable.
SinceIdon’twanthimtoknowIliedaboutthebathroom,Ifollowthroughonthepeecharadebyleavingthelivingroomtoloiterinthefrontparlorforabit,whichiswhereAlliefindsmeafewminuteslater.
“Hey!Areyouhavingagoodtime?”Hereyesarebrightandhercheeksareflushed,butIknowshehasn’tbeendrinking.Shepromisedtostaysober,andAllieneverbreaksherpromises.
“Yeah,Iguess.IthinkI’mtakingoffsoon,though.”
“Awno,youcan’tgoyet!IjustsawyoudancingwithJimPaulson—youlookedlikeyouwerehavingfun.”
Really?IguessI’mamuchbetteractressthanIthought.
“He’scute,”sheaddswithameaningfullook.
“Naah,he’snotmytype.Toopreppy.”
“Well,Iknowsomeonewhoisyourtype.”Alliewiggleshereyebrowsbeforeloweringhervoicetoateasingwhisper.“Anddon’tturnaround,buthejustwalkedthroughthedoor.”
Myhearttakesofflikeakiteinawindstorm.Don’tturnaround?Don’tpeoplerealizethatsayingthatisguaranteedtomakesomeonedotheexactopposite?
Iswivelmyheadtowardthefrontdoor,thenswivelitrightbackbecauseohmyGod.She’sright.Justinhasfinallyshownup.
AndsincetheglimpseIstolewasfartoofleeting,IrelyonAllietofillintheblanks.“Ishealone?”Imurmur.
“He’swithafewofhisteammates,”shemurmursback.“Noneofthembroughtdates,though.”
Idomybestimpressionofapersonwho’sjusttalkingtoafriendandisinnowaycrushingontheguystandingtenfeetaway.Anditworks,becauseJustinandhisbuddieswalkrightpastAllieandme,theirloudlaughterquicklyswallowedupbyaswellofmusic.
“You’reblushing,”sheteases.
“Iknow.”Igroansoftly.“Fuck.Thiscrushissostupid,A.Whyareyoulettingmeembarrassmyselflikethis?”
“BecauseIdon’tthinkit’sstupidatall.Andit’snotembarrassing—it’shealthy.”Shegrabsmyarmandproceedstodragmebacktothelivingroom.Thestereovolumeislowernow,butanimatedchattercontinuestobuzzthroughtheroom.
“Seriously,Han,you’reyoungandbeautiful,andIwantyoutofallinlove.Idon’tcarewhoit’swithaslongas—whyisGarrettGrahamstaringatyou?”
IfollowherstartledgazeandsmotheranothergroanwhenGarrett’sgrayeyeslockontomine.
“Becausehe’sstalkingme,”Igrumble.
Hereyebrowssoar.“Forreal?”
“Prettymuch,yeah.He’sfailingEthics,andheknowsIdidwellonthemidtermsonowhe’sdemandingItutorhim.Theguycan’ttakenoforananswer.”
Shesnickers.“Ithinkyoumightbetheonlygirlwho’severturnedhimdown.”
“IfonlytherestofthefemalepopulationwasassmartasIam.”
IgazepastAllie’sshoulderandscantheroomforJustin,andmypulsespeedsupwhenIspothimbythepooltable.He’swearingblackpantsandagraycable-knitsweater,andhishairismessy,fallingontohisstrongforehead.God,Ilovethatjust-rolled-out-of-bedlookhehasgoingon.He’snotallgelleduplikehisbuddies,norishewearinghisfootballjacketliketherestofthem.
“Allie,getyourcuteassoverhere!”Seanshoutsfromtheping-pongtable.“Ineedmypongpartner!”
Aprettyblushbloomsonhercheeks.“Wannawatchuskicksomebeerpongbutt?Minusthebeer,”sheaddsquickly.“SeanknowsI’mnotdrinkingtonight.”
I’mhitwithanotherjoltofguilt.“That’snofun,”Isaylightly.“You’vegottahavethebeertoplaythepong.”
Shefirmlyshakesherhead.“IpromisedyouIwouldn’tdrink.”
“AndI’mnotplanningonstickingaroundformuchlonger,”Icounter.“Sothere’snoreasonforyounottogetyourbuzzon.”
“ButIwantyoutostay,”sheprotests.
“Howaboutthis?I’llstayforanotherhalfhour,butonlyifyouallowyourselftohavesomeactualfun.Iknowwemadeadealinfreshmanyear,butI’mnotholdingyoutoitanymore,A.”
Imeaneveryword,becauseIreallydohatethatshehastobabysitmeeverytimewegoout.It’snotfairtoher.AndaftertwoyearsatBriar,Iknowit’stimeformetolowermyguard,atleastalittlebit.
“Comeon,Iwanttoseeyoushowoffthosemadbeerpongskills.”Ilinkmyarmthroughhers,andshelaughsasIdragherovertoSeanandhisfriends
“Hannah!”Seansaysindelight.“Youplaying?”
“Nope,”Ireply.“Justcheeringonmybestie.”
AlliejoinsSeanatoneendofthetable,andforthenexttenminutes,Iwatchthemostintensebeerpongmatchontheplanetunfold.Buttheentiretime,I’mwhollyawareofJustin,who’schattingwithhisteammatesacrosstheroom.
Eventually,IwanderoffbecauseIfinallydoneedtousetherestroom.There’soneonthemainfloornearthekitchen,butthelineiscrazylongandit’sagesbeforeIgetaturn.Iquicklydomybusiness,thenwalkoutofthebathroom—andslamintoahardmalechest.
“Youshouldreallywatchwhereyou’regoing,”ahuskyvoiceremarks.
Myheartstops.
Justin’sdarkeyestwinklewithhumorasheplaceshishandonmyarmtosteadyme.Themomenthetouchesme,heatsearsmyfleshandunleashesaflurryofgoosebumps.
“Sorry,”Istammer.
“Noworries.”Smiling,hepatshischestdown.“I’mstillinonepiece.”
Isuddenlynoticethatthere’snoonewaitingtousethewashroomanymore.It’sjustJustinandmeinthehallway,andGod,he’sevenbetterlookingcloseup.He’salsomuchtallerthanIrealized—Ihavetotiltmyheadtomeethiseyes.
“You’reinEthicswithme,aren’tyou?”heasksinthatdeep,sexyvoiceofhis.
Inod.
“I’mJustin.”
HeintroduceshimselfasiftheremightactuallybesomeoneatBriarwhodoesn’tknowhisname.ButIfindhismodestyisadorable.
“I’mHannah.”
“How’dyoudoonthemidterm?”
“IgotanA,”Iadmit.“You?”
“Bminus.”
Ican’thidemysurprise.“Really?Iguesswe’retheluckyones,then.Everyoneelsebombedit.”
“Ithinkitmakesussmart,notlucky.”
Hisgrinmakesmemelt.Seriously.I’mapuddleofgooonthefloor,unabletolookawayfromthosemagneticdarkeyes.Andhesmellsfantastic,likesoapandlemonyaftershave.WoulditbeinappropriateifIpressedmyfaceinhisneckandinhaledhim?
Uh…yeah.Itwould.
“So…”Itrytothinkofsomethingcleverorinterestingtosay,butI’mtoonervoustobewittyatthemoment.“Youplayfootball,huh?”
Henods.“Widereceiver.Areyouafan?”Adimpleappearsinhischin.“Ofthegame,Imean.”
I’mnot,butIsupposeIcouldlieandpretendtolikehissport.Exceptthat’sariskymove,becausethenhemighttrytotalk“shop”withme,andIdon’tknowenoughaboutfootballtocarryawholeconversationaboutit.
“Notreally,”Iconfesswithasigh.“I’veseenagameortwo,buthonestly,it’stooslowformyliking.Seemslikeyouguysplayforfiveseconds,andthensomeoneblowsawhistleandyoustandaroundforhoursbeforethenextplaystarts.”
Justinlaughs.He’sgotagreatlaugh.LowandhuskyandIfeelitrightdowntomytoes.“Yeah,I’veheardthatcomplaintbefore.It’sdifferentwhenyou’replayingit,though.Alotmoreintensethanyou’dthink.Andifyou’reinvestedinateamorcertainplayers,youpickuptherulesalotfaster.”Heslantshishead.“Youshouldcometooneofourgames.Ibetyou’dhavefun.”
Holyshit.He’sinvitingmetooneofhisgames?
“Uh,yeah,maybeIwill—”
“Kohl!”aloudvoiceinterrupts.“We’reup!”
Webothturnasablondbehemothpokeshisheadoutofthelivingroomdoorway.It’soneofJustin’steammates,andhe’swearingalookofextremeimpatience.
“Coming,”Justincallsback,thengivesmearuefulsmileashetakesasteptowardthebathroom.“BigJoeandIareabouttokicksomeassinpool,butI’vegottahitthecanfirst.Talklater?”
“Sure.”Ikeepmytonecasual,butthere’snothingcasualaboutthewaymyheartisracing.
AsJustinshutsthedoorbehindhim,Ihurrybacktothelivingroomonshakylegs.I’mdyingtotellAllieaboutwhatjusthappened,butIdon’tgetthechance.ThesecondIwalkintotheroom,six-foot-twoandtwohundredpoundsofGarrettGrahamblockmypath.
“Wellsy,”hesayscheerfully.“You’rethelastpersonIexpectedtoseeheretonight.”
Asusual,hispresencecausesmyguardtosnapintoplace.“Yeah?Why’sthat?”
Heshrugs.“Ididn’tthinkfratpartieswereyourscene.”
“Well,youdon’tknowme,remember?MaybeI’mpartyingituponGreekRoweverynight.”
“Liar.Iwould’veseenyouherebefore.”
Hecrosseshisarmsoverhischest,aposethatcauseshisbicepstoflex.Iglimpsethebottomofatattoopeekingoutfromhissleeve,butIcan’ttellwhatitis,onlythatit’sblackandlooksintricate.Flamesmaybe?
“So,aboutthistutoringthing…Ithoughtweshouldtakeamomenttosetupaschedule.”
Aggravationshootsupmyspine.“Youdon’tgiveup,doyou?”
“Never.”
“Thenyouneedtostart,becauseI’mnottutoringyou.”I’mdistractednow.Justinhasreenteredtheroom,hislong,lithebodymovingthroughthecrowdashemakeshiswaytothepooltable.He’shalfwaytherewhenaprettybrunetteinterceptshim.Tomydismay,hestopstotalktoher.
“Comeon,Wellsy,helpaguyout,”Garrettbegs.
Justinlaughsatsomethingthegirlsays.Samewayhewaslaughingwithmeaminuteago.Andwhenshetoucheshisarmandleansinclose,hedoesn’tbackaway.
“Look,ifyoudon’twanttocommittothewholesemester,atleasthelpmepassthismidterm.I’lloweyouone.”
I’mnolongerpayingGarrettevenalickofattention.Justinleansintowhisperinthegirl’sear.Shegiggles,hercheeksturnarosyshadeofpink,andmyheartplummetstothepitofmystomach.
Iwassosurewe’dbeen,Idon’tknow,connecting,butnowhe’sflirtingwithsomeoneelse?
“You’renotevenlisteningtome,”Garrettaccuses.“Whoareyoulookingat,anyway?”
ItearmyeyesoffJustinandthebrunette,butnotfastenough.
Garrettgrinswhenhenoticeswheremygazewas.“Whichone?”hedemands.
“Whichonewhat?”
HecockshisheadatJustin,thenshiftsitfivefeettotheright,whereInoticeJimmytalkingtooneofhisfratbrothers.“PaulsonorKohl—whichonedoyouwanttobone?”
“Bone?”Hehasmyattentionagain.“Ugh.Whosaysstufflikethat?”
“Fine,shouldIrephrase?Whichonedoyouwanttofuckorscrewordrillormakeloveto,ifthat’syourthing.”
Isetmyjaw.Thisguyissuchanasshole.
WhenIdon’tanswer,heanswersforme.“Kohl,”hedecides.“IsawyoudancingwithPaulsonearlierandyoudefinitelyweren’tmakinggooglyeyesathim.”
Idon’tconfirmordenyit.Instead,Itakeastepaway.“Haveagoodnight,Garrett.”
“Ihatetobreakittoyou,butitain’tgonnahappen,Wellsy.You’renothistype.”
Angerandembarrassmentfloodmybelly.Wow.Hadhereallyjustsaidthat?
“Thanksforthetip,”Isaycoolly.“Nowifyou’llexcuseme…”
HetriesreachingformyarmbutIbulldozepasthimandleavehiminmyproverbialdust.IdoaquicksearchoftheroomforAllie,haltinginmytrackswhenIspothermakingoutwithSeanonthecouch.Idon’twanttointerruptthem,soIspinonmyheelandheadtowardthefrontdoorinstead.
MyfingersareshakyasItextAllietoletherknowI’mtakingoff.Garrett’sbluntassertion—you’renothistype—echoesinmymindlikeadepressingmantra.
Truthis,it’sexactlywhatIneededtohear.SowhatifJustinspoketomeinthehallway?Obviouslyitmeantnothing,becauseinthenextbreathheturnedaroundandflirtedwithsomeoneelse.It’stimeformetofacereality.It’snotgoingtohappenwithmeandJustin,nomatterhowbadlyIwantitto
Itwasstupidofmetocomeheretonight.
WavesofembarrassmentcoursethroughmeasIleavetheSigmahouseandstepintothecoolnightbreeze.Iregretnotbringingacoat,butIhadn’twantedtocarryitaroundallnight,andIfiguredIcoulddealwiththeOctoberchillforthefive-secondwalkfromthecabtothefrontdoor.
AlliemessagesbackasIstepontotheporch,offeringtocomeoutsideandkeepmecompanyuntilthetaxiarrives,butIorderhertostaywithherboyfriend.ThenIpullupthenumberforthecampustaxiservice,andI’mjustabouttodialwhenIhearmyname.Amaddeningvariationofit,thatis.
“Wellsy.Waitup.”
Itaketheporchstepstwoatatime,butGarrettisalottallerthanme,whichmeanshisstrideislonger,andhecatchesuptomeinnotime.
“Comeon,wait.”Hishandlatchesontomyshoulder.
Ishrugitoffandturntoglareathim.“What?You’reinthemoodtoinsultmesomemore?”
“Iwasn’ttryingtoinsultyou,”heprotests.“Iwasjuststatingafact.”
Thatstings.“Gee.Thanks.”
“Fuck.”Helooksfrustrated.“Iinsultedyouagain.Ididn’tmeantodothat.I’mnottryingtobeadick,okay?”
“Ofcourseyou’renottrying.Youjustare.”
Hehasthenervetogrin,buthishumorfadesfast.“Look,Iknowtheguy,allright?Kohl’sfriendswithoneofmyroommates,sohe’sbeenoveratmyplaceafewtimes.”
“Goodieforyou.YoucandatehimthenbecauseI’mnotinterested.”
“Yes,youare.”Hesoundsverysureofhimself,andIhatehimforthat.“AllI’msayingis,Kohlhasatype.”
“Allright,I’llhumoryou.What’shistypethen?AndnotbecauseI’minterestedinhimoranything,”Iaddhastily.
Hesmilesknowingly.“Uh-huh.Ofcourseyou’renot.”Thenheshrugs.“He’sbeenatthiscollegefor,what,almosttwomonths?SofarI’veseenhimhookupwithonecheerleaderandtwomembersofKappaBeta.Knowwhatthattellsme?”
“No,butittellsmethatyouspendwaytoomuchtimekeepingtrackofwhootherdudesaredating.”
Heignoresthebarb.“IttellsmeKohlisinterestedinchickswithacertainsocialstatus.”
Irollmyeyes.“Ifthisisanotheroffertomakemepopular,I’mgonnahavetopass.”
“Hey,ifyouwanttogetKohl’sattention,you’vegottadosomethingdrastic.”Hepauses.“Soyes,I’mreofferingtogooutwithyou.”
“Ire-pass.Nowifyou’llexcuseme,Ineedtocallacampuscab.”
“No,youdon’t.”
Myphonehadgoneidle,soIquicklytypeinmypasswordtounlockit.
“Seriously,don’tbother,”Garrettsays.“Icandriveyouhome.”
“Idon’tneedaride.”
“That’swhatcabsdo.Theygiveyourides.”
“Idon’tneedaridefromyou,”Iamend.
“You’dratherpaytenbuckstogethomeinsteadofacceptingafreeridefromme?”
Hissarcasticremarkisrightontarget.Becauseyes,Imostcertainlytrustacampus-employedcabbietodrivemehomemorethanItrustGarrettGrahamtodoit.Idon’tgetintocarswithstrangers.Period.
Garrett’seyesnarrowasifhe’sreadmymind.“I’mnotgoingtotryanything,Wellsy.It’sjustaridehome.”
“Gobacktotheparty,Garrett.Yourfratbrothersareprobablywonderingwhereyouare.”
“Trustme,theydon’tgiveashitwhereIam.They’reonlyinterestedinfindingatipsychicktosticktheirdicksin.”
Igag.“God.Youaredisgusting,youknowthat?”
“Nope,justhonest.Besides,it’snotlikeIsaidI’mlookingtodothat.Idon’tneedtogetawomandrunkforhertosleepwithme.Theycometomesoberandwilling.”
“Congratulations.”Iyelpwhenhesnatchesthephoneoutofmyhand.“Hey!”
Tomyamazement,heturnsthecameratowardhisfaceandsnapsapicture.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“There,”hesays,handingthephoneback.“FeelfreetotextthatsexyfacetoyourentirecontactlistandinformthemI’mdrivingyouhome.Thatwayifyoushowupdeadtomorrow,everyonewillknowwhodidit.Andifyouwant,youcankeepyourfingerontheemergencycallbuttonthewholetimeincaseyouneedtocallthecops.”Heheavesoutanexasperatedbreath.“CanIpleasetakeyouhomenow?”
AlthoughI’mnotexcitedaboutstandingoutsidealoneandcoatlesstowaitforthetaxi,Istillputuponelastprotest.“Howmuchhaveyouhadtodrink?”
“Halfabeer.”
Iraisemyeyebrows.
“Mylimitisone,”heinsists.“I’vegotpracticetomorrowmorning.”
Myresistancecrumblesathisearnestexpression.I’veheardalotofrumorsaboutGarrett,butnoneinvolvingalcoholordrugs,andthecampuscabserviceisnotoriousfortakingitssweetasstime,soreally,itwon’tkillmetospendfiveminutesinacarwiththeguy.Icaneasilygivehimthesilenttreatmentifheannoysme.
Orrather,whenheannoysme.
“Allright,”Iconcede.“Youcantakemehome.Butthisdoesn’tmeanI’mtutoringyou.”
Hissmileistheepitomeofsmug.“We’lldiscussitinthecar.”6
GARRETT
HannahWellsisintoafootballplayer.Ican’twrapmyheadaroundit,butI’vealreadyoffendedheroncetonight,soIknowIhavetotreadcarefullyifI’mgoingtowinherover.
Iwaituntilwe’reinmyJeepandbuckledupbeforeIvoicethecautiousquestion.“So,howlonghaveyouwantedtofu—makelovetoKohl?”
Shedoesn’tanswer,butIcanfeelherdeathglareboringintothesideofmyface.
“Hastobeafairlyrecentthingsincehejusttransferredtwomonthsago.”Ipursemylips.“Okay,let’sassumeit’sbeenamonth.”
Noanswer.
Iglanceoverandseethatshe’sgloweringevenhardernow,butevenwiththatforbiddingexpression,shestilllookshot.She’sgotoneofthemostinterestingfacesI’veeverseen—hercheeksarealittletooround,hermouthalittletoopouty,butcombinedwithhersmootholiveskin,vividgreeneyes,andthetinybeautymarkoverhertoplip,she’sgorgeous.Andthatbody…man,nowthatI’venoticedit,Ican’tun-noticeit.
ButIremindmyselfthatI’mnotdrivingherhomeinthehopesofscoring.IneedHannahtoomuchtoscrewitupbysleepingwithher.
Afterpracticetoday,Coachpulledmeasideandgavemeaten-minutelectureabouttheimportanceofkeepingmygradesup.Well,lectureistoogenerousadescription—hisexactwordshadbeen“maintainyouraverageorI’llshovemyfootsofarupyourassyou’llbeabletotastemyshoepolishinyourmouthforyearstocome.”
LikethesmartassIam,Iaskedifpeopleactuallystilluseshoepolish,andherespondedwithastringofcolorfulexpletivesbeforestormingoff.
I’mnotexaggeratingwhenIsaythathockeyismyentirelife,butIguessthat’sboundtohappenwhenyourfatherisafuckingsuperstar.TheoldmanhadmyfutureplannedoutwhenIwasstillinthewomb—learntoskate,learntoshoot,makeittothepros,theend.PhilGrahamhasareputationtouphold,afterall.Imean,justthinkabouthowbadlyit’dreflectonhimifhisonlysondidn’tgrowuptobeaprofessionalhockeyplayer.
Yes,that’ssarcasmyou’redetecting.Andhere’saconfession:Ihatemyfather.No,Idespisehim.Theironyis,thebastardthinkseverythingI’vedonehasbeenforhim.Theintensetraining,thefull-bodybruises,killingmyselftwentyhoursaweekinordertobettermygame.He’sarrogantenoughtobelievethatIputmyselfthroughallthatforhim
Buthe’swrong.Idoitforme.Andtoalesserextent,Idoittobeathim.Tobebetterthanhim.
Don’tgetmewrong—Ilovethegame.Ilivefortheroarofthecrowd,thecrispairchillingmyfaceasIhurtledowntheice,thehissofthepuckasIreleaseaslapshotthatlightsthelamp.Hockeyisadrenaline.It’sexcitement.It’s…soothing,even.
IlookatHannahagain,wonderingwhatit’lltaketopersuadeher,anditsuddenlyoccurstomeI’vebeenthinkingaboutthisKohlthingthewrongway.Becauseyeah,Idon’tthinkshe’shistype,buthowishehers?
Kohlplaysitofflikehe’sthestrong,silenttype,butI’vehungoutwithhimenoughtimestoseethroughtheact.Heusesthatmanofmysterybullshittodrawgirlsin,andoncetheybite,heturnsonthecharmandluresthemrightintohispants.
SowhythehellisalevelheadedgirllikeHannahWellssalivatingoverabigshotlikeKohl?
“Isthisjustaphysicalthingordoyouactuallywanttodatehim?”Iaskcuriously.
Herexasperatedsighechoesinthecar.“Canwepleasenottalkaboutthis?”
IflicktherightturnsignalanddriveawayfromGreekRow,headingfortheroadthatleadsbacktocampus
“Iwaswrongaboutyou,”Itellherinafranktone.
“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”
“ItmeansIthoughtyouwereupfront.Ballsy.Notsomeonewho’stoomuchofapussytoadmitshe’sintoaguy.”
IhideagrinwhenIseeherjawharden.I’mnotsurprisedthatIhitanerve.I’mprettygoodatreadingpeople,andIknowwithoutashredofdoubtthatHannahWellsisn’tthekindofwomanwhobacksdownfromachallenge,notevenaveiledone.
“Fine.Youwin.”Shesoundslikeshe’sspeakingthroughclenchedteeth.“MaybeI’mintohim.Ateeny,tinybit.”
Mygrinbreaksfree.“Gee,wasthatsohard?”Ieasemyfootoffthegasasweapproachastopsign.“Whyhaven’tyouaskedhimoutthen?”
Alarmripplesthroughhervoice.“WhywouldIdothat?”
“Uh,becauseyoujustsaidyou’reintohim?”
“Idon’tevenknowhim.”
“Howelseareyougoingtogettoknowhimifyoudon’taskhimout?”
Sheshiftsinherseat,lookingsouncomfortableIcan’thelpbutlaugh.
“You’rescared,”Iteaseher,unabletokeepthedelightoutofmyvoice
“Iamnot,”shesaysinstantly.Thenshepauses.“Well,maybealittle.He…hemakesmenervous,okay?”
Ittakessomeefforttomaskmysurprise.Ihadn’texpectedhertobeso…honest,Iguess.Andthevulnerabilityshe’sradiatingisslightlyunsettling.Ihaven’tknownherlong,butI’vegottenusedtohersarcasmandconfidence.Theuncertaintyonherfaceseemsoutofplace.
“Soyou’regoingtowaitaroundforhimtoaskyou?”
Shescowlsatme.“Letmeguess—youthinkhewon’t.”
“Iknowhewon’t.”Igivealittleshrug.“Menareallaboutthechase,Wellsy.You’remakingittooeasyforhim.”
“Hardly,”shesaysdryly.“ConsideringIhaven’teventoldhimI’minterested.”
“Oh,heknows.”
Thatstartlesher.“No,hedoesn’t.”
“Amanalwaysknowswhenawomanwantshim.Believeme,youdon’thavetosayitoutloudforhimtopickuponthevibesyou’resendingout.”Igrin.“Hell,itonlytookfivesecondsformetofigureitout.”
“AndyouthinkifIgooutwithyou,he’llmagicallybeinterestedinme?”Shesoundsskeptical,butnolongerhostile,whichisapromisingsign.
“It’lldefinitelyhelpyourcause.Youknowwhatintriguesguysevenmorethanthechase?”
“Ican’twaittohearit.”
“Awomanwho’soutofreach.Peoplewantwhattheycan’thave.”Ican’thelpbutsmirk.“Caseinpoint—youwantingKohl.”
“Uh-huh.Well,ifIcan’thavehim,thenwhybothergoingonadatewithyou?”
“Youcan’thavehimnow.Doesn’tmeanyou’llneverhavehim.”
Ireachanotherstopsign,andI’mannoyedtoseethatwe’realmostbackatcampus.Shit.Ineedmoretimetopersuadeher,soIdriveabitslowerandhopeshedoesn’tnoticeI’mgoingtenunderthelimit.
“Trustme,Wellsy,ifyoushowuponmyarm,he’llnotice.”Ipause,pretendingtothinkitover.“Tellyouwhat—there’sthispartynextSaturdayandLoverboywillbethere.”
“One,don’tcallhimthat.Andtwo,howdoyouknowwherehe’llbe?”shesayssuspiciously.
“Becauseit’sBeauMaxwell’sbirthdaybash.Youknow,thequarterback?Thewholeteamwillbethere.”Ishrug.“Andsowillwe.”
“Mmm-hmmm.Andwhathappenswhenwegetthere?”
She’splayingitoffascasual,butIknowI’vegotherexactlywhereIwanther.
“Wemingle,haveafewbeers.I’llintroduceyouaroundasmydate.Chickswillwanttomurderyou.Guyswillwonderwhoyouareandwhyyouhaven’tbeenontheirradarsbefore.Kohlwillwondertoo,butwe’regoingtoignorehim.”
“Andwhywouldwedothat?”
“Becauseit’lldrivehimcrazy.Makeyouseemevenmoreunattainable.”
Shebitesherlip.Iwonderifsheknowshoweasyitistoreadheremotions.Annoyance,anger,embarrassment.Hereyesrevealeverythinganditfascinatesme.IworksohardtomaskwhatI’mfeeling—alessonIlearnedfromchildhood—butHannah’sfaceisanopenbook.It’skindarefreshing
“Youhavealotofconfidenceinyourself,”shefinallyremarks.“Doyouhonestlythinkyou’resuchhotshitthatthemereactofgoingtoapartywithyouwillturnmeintoacelebrity?”
“Yes.”I’mnotbeingarrogant,justtruthful.Aftertwoyearsatthisschool,IknowthekindofcredIhave.
Thoughhonestly?SometimesIdon’tfeelhalfascoolaspeoplethinkIam,andI’mprettysurethatifanyofthemtookthetimetoactuallygettoknowme,they’dprobablychangetheiropinion.It’slikethatpondIskatedonwhenIwasakid—fromadistance,theicelookedsoshinyandsmooth,untilyougotcloseenoughtoit,andsuddenlyalltheunevenedgesandcrisscrossedskatemarksbecamevisible.That’sme,Iguess.Coveredwithskatemarksthatnobodyeverseemstonotice.
Andjeez,clearlyI’mfeelingwaytoophilosophicaltonight.
Nexttome,Hannahhasgonequiet,chewingonherlipassheconsidersmyproposal.
Forasplitsecond,Ialmosttellhertoforgetit.Itseems…wrongthatthisgirlcareswhatadouchelikeKohlthinksabouther.Hannah’sintelligenceandrazor-sharptongueiswastedonaguylikethat.
ButthenIthinkofmyteam,andalltheguysthatarecountingonme,andIforcemyselftoignoremymisgivings.
“Thinkaboutit,”Icoax.“ThemakeupisnextFriday,whichgivesusaweekandahalftostudy.I’llwritetheexam,andthenonSaturdaynightwe’llgotoMaxwell’spartyandshowLoverboyhowsexyanddesirableyouare.Hewon’tbeabletoresist,trustme.”
“One,seriously,don’tcallhimthat.Two,stoptellingmetotrustyou.Idon’tevenknowyou.”Butdespitethegrumbling,Icanseehercapitulating.“Look.Ican’tcommittotutoringyouforthewholesemester.Ihonestlydon’thavetime.”
“It’lljustbethisweek,”Ipromise.
Shehesitates.
Idon’tblameherfordoubtingme.Truthis,I’malreadythinkingofhowIcanconvincehertoholdmyhandforthedurationofTolbert’scourse,but…onebattleatatime.
“Sodowehaveadeal?”Iprompt.
Hannahstaysquiet,butjustwhenI’vegivenuphope,shesighsandsays,“Allright.We’vegotadeal.”
Hotdamn
ApartofmeisgenuinelyshockedthatImanagedtowearherdown.I’vebeenbadgeringherforwhatfeelslikeaneternity,andnowthatI’vewon,it’salmostlikeexperiencingasenseofloss.Figurethatout.
Nevertheless,IgivemyselfamentalhighfiveasIdriveintothelotbehindthedormitories.“Whatdormareyouin?”IaskasIputtheJeepinpark.
“BristolHouse.”
“I’llwalkyouin.”Istarttounbucklemyseatbelt,butsheshakesherhead.
“It’sfine.Idon’tneedabodyguard.”Sheholdsupherphone.“Allpreppedtodial911,remember?”
Ashortsilencefallsoverus.
“Well.”Istickoutmyhand.“Itwasapleasuredoingbusinesswithyou.”
ShestaresatmyhandlikeI’mdiseased.Irollmyeyesandwithdrawthegesture.
“Iworkuntileighttomorrow,”shesays.“WecanmeetupwhenI’mdone.Youdon’tliveinthedorms,right?”
“No,butIcancometoyou.”
SheblanchesasifI’veofferedtoshaveherhead.“Andhavepeoplethinkwe’refriends?Noway.Textmeyouraddress.I’llcometoyourplace.”
I’venevermetanyonewho’ssorepulsedbymypopularity,andIhavenoideawhattomakeofit.
IthinkImightlikeit.
“You’llbethemostpopulargirlonyourfloorifIcameover,youknow.”
“Textmeyouraddress,”shesaysfirmly.
“Yes,ma’am.”Ibeamather.“I’llseeyoutomorrownight.”
AllIgetinreturnisasourlookandaflashofherprofileassheturnstoopenherdoor.Shehopsoutofthecarwithoutaword,thenreluctantlytapsonthepassengerwindow.
Stiflingagrin,Ipressthebuttontorolldownthewindow.“Forgetsomething?”Imock.
“Thankyoufortheride,”shesaysprimly.
Andthenshe’sgone,hergreendressflutteringinthenightbreezeasshehurriestowardthedarkenedbuildings.7
HANNAH
NormallyIpridemyselfonhavingagoodheadonmyshouldersandmakingsounddecisions,butagreeingtotutorGarrett?Stupiderthanstupid.
I’mstillcursingmyselfforitasImakethedriveovertohishousethefollowingevening.WhenhecorneredmeattheSigmaparty,Ihadeveryintentionoftellinghimtofuckoffandleavemealone,andthenhe’ddangledJustinundermynoselikeacarrot,andIcavedlikeacheaptent.
Great.AndnowI’mmixingmetaphors
Ithinkitmightbetimeformetofaceagrimtruth:IhavezerocommonsensewhenitcomestoJustinKohl.LastnightIleftthepartywiththesolepurposeofforgettingabouthim,andinsteadofdoingthat,IallowedGarrettGrahamtofillmewiththemostdestructiveemotionknowntomankind—hope.
HopethatJustinmightnoticeme.Hopethathemightwantme.HopethatImight’vefinallymetsomeonewhocanmakemefeelsomething.
It’sembarrassinghowbesottedIamwiththeguy.
IparkmyborrowedcarinthedrivewaybehindGarrett’sJeepandnexttoashinyblackpick-up.IkeepwonderingwhatmyoldtherapistwouldthinkifsheknewaboutthedealI’dstruckwithGarrett.Iwanttosayshe’dbeagainstit,butCarolewasallaboutempowerment.Shealwaysencouragedmetotakecontrolofmylifeandgrabholdofanyopportunitythatallowsmetoputtheattackbehindme.
Sohere’swhatIknow:I’vedatedtwoguyssincetherape.Isleptwithbothofthem.AndneitherofthemmademefeelashotandachyasJustinKohldoeswithoneheavy-liddedlook.
Carolewouldtellmethat’sanopportunityworthexploring.
Garrett’stownhouseistwostoriestall,withawhitestuccoexterior,astoopinsteadofaporch,andafrontlawnthat’ssurprisinglytidy.Despitemyreluctance,Iforcemyselftogetoutofthecarandwalktothedoor.Rockmusicblaresinsidethehouse.Apartofmehopesthatnobodyhearsmeringthebell,butmuffledfootstepsechobehindthedoorandthenitswingsopenandIfindmyselflookingatatallguywithspikyblondhairandachiseledfacerightoffthecoverofGQ
“Why,hellothere,”hedrawlsashelooksmeupanddown.“Mybirthday’snotuntilnextweek,butifthisisanearlyb-daygift,Isureain’tcomplaining,babydoll.”
Ofcourse.IshouldhaveknownGarrettwouldberoomingwithsomeoneasobnoxiousasheis.
Icurlmyfingersoverthestrapofmyoversizedmessengerbag,wonderingifIcanmakeitbacktomycarbeforeGarrettknowsI’mhere,butmydastardlyplanisfoiledwhenheappearsinthedoorway.He’sbarefoot,cladinfadedjeansandathreadbaregrayT-shirt,andhishairisdampasifhe’sjustcomeoutoftheshower.
“Hey,Wellsy,”hesaysbreezily.“You’relate.”
“Isaideightfifteen.It’seightfifteen.”IstarecoldlyatMr.GQ.“AndifyouwereimplyingthatIwasahooker,thencallmeinsulted.”
“Youthoughtshewasahooker?”Garrettturnstoglareathisfriend.“That’smytutor,bro.Showsomerespect.”
“Ididn’tthinkshewasahooker—Ithoughtshewasastripper,”theblondretorts,asifthatmakesitbetter.“She’swearingacostume,forfuck’ssake.”
Hedoeshaveapoint.Mywaitressuniformisn’texactlysubtle.
“PS,Iwantastripperformybirthday,”GQannounces.“Justdecidednow.Getonit.”
“I’llmakeacouplecalls,”Garrettpromises,butthesecondhisfriendwandersoff,heconfides,“He’snotgettingastripper.Weallpitchedintogethiscardetailed.ItstillreeksafterHollisbarfedinthebackseatandDean’stoolazytogetitdone.”
WhenIsnicker,Garrettpounceslikeamountainlion.“Holyshit.Wasthatalaugh?Ididn’tthinkyouwerecapableofshowingamusement.Canyoudoitagainandletmefilmit?”
“Ilaughallthetime.”Ipause.“Mostlyatyou,though.”
HegrabshischestinmockpainasifI’veshothim.“You’reterribleforaguy’sego,y’knowthat?”
Irollmyeyesandshutthedoorbehindme.
“Let’sgouptomyroom,”hesays
Shit.Hewantstostudyinhisbedroom?WhileI’msurethat’sprobablyawetdreamforeverygirlatthisschool,I’mapprehensiveaboutbeingalonewithhim.
“G,isthatthetutor?”amalevoiceshoutsaswepasswhatIdeduceisthelivingroom.“Hey,tutor,getinhere!Weneedtohavealittlechat.”
MyalarmedgazefliestoGarrett,buthejustgrinsandguidesmetothedoorway.ThelivingroomjustscreamsbachelorpadwithitstwoleathercouchessetupinanL-shape,acomplicated-lookingentertainmentsystem,andacoffeetablelitteredwithbeerbottles.Adark-hairedguywithvividblueeyesrisesfromthecouch.He’sashandsomeasGarrettandGQ,andfromthewayhislongbodysauntersmyway,he’sfullyawareofhisappeal.
“Solisten,”BlueEyesannouncesinasternvoice.“Myboyneedstoacethistest.Youbettermakethathappen.”
Mylipstwitch.“Orwhat?”
“OrI’llbevery,veryupset.”Hissultrygazedoesaslowanddeliberatesweepofmybody,lingeringonmychestbeforetravelingbackup.“Youdon’twanttoupsetme,doyou,gorgeous?”
Garrettsnorts.“Don’twasteyourtime,man.She’simmunetoflirting.Trustme,I’vetried.”Heturnstome.“ThisisLogan.Logan,Wellsy.”
“Hannah,”Icorrect.
Loganthinksitoverbeforeshakinghishead.“Naah.IlikeWellsy.”
“YoumetDeaninthehall,andthat’sTucker,”Garrettadds,pointingtotheauburn-hairedguyonthecouch,who—surprise,surprise—isasgood-lookingastherestofthem.
Iwonderif“sexyasfuck”isarequirementforlivinginthishouse.
NotthatI’deveraskGarrett.Hisegoisbigenoughasitis.
“’Sup,Wellsy,”Tuckercallsout
Ismotherasigh.Wonderful.IguessI’mWellsynow.
“WellsyisthestaroftheChristmasrecital,”Garretttellshisfriends.
“Wintershowcase,”Igrumble.
“Isn’tthatwhatIsaid?”Hewavesadismissivehand.“Okay,let’sdothisshit.Later,boys.”
IfollowGarrettupthenarrowstaircasetothesecondfloor.Hisroomisattheendofthehall,andfromthesheersizeofitandtheprivatebath,itmustbethemasterbedroom.
“YoumindifIchangeoutofthisuniform?”Iaskawkwardly.“I’vegotmystreetclothesinmybag.”
Heflopsontheedgeofthemonstrousbedandleansbackonhiselbows.“Gorightahead.I’llsithereandenjoytheshow.”
Iclenchmyteeth.“Imeantinthewashroom.”
“That’snofun.”
“Nothingaboutthisisfun,”Imutter.
ThebathroomisalotcleanerthanIexpect,andthefainttracesofwoodsyaftershavehangintheair.Iquicklychangeintoyogapantsandablacksweater,tiemyhairintoaponytail,andshovemyuniforminmybag.
GarrettisstillonthebedwhenIreturn.He’sengrossedwithhisphone,doesn’tevenglanceupwhenIdumpanarmfulofbooksonhisbed.
“Toquoteyourannoyingself,areyoureadytodothisshit?”Isaysarcastically.
Hespeaksinanabsent-mindedtone.“Yeah.Onesec.”Hislongfingerstapoutamessage,andthenhedropsthephoneonthemattress.“Sorry.I’mpayingattentionnow.”
Myseatingoptionsarelimited.There’sadeskunderthewindowbutonlyonechair,whichisburiedunderamountainofclothes.Samegoesforthearmchairinthecorneroftheroom.Thefloorishardwoodandlooksuncomfortable.
Thebed,itis.
Ireluctantlysitcross-leggedonthemattress.“Okay,soIthinkweshouldrunthroughallthetheoriesfirst.Makesureyouknowtheimportantpointsofeachone,andthenwecanstartapplyingthemtothelistofconflictsandmoraldilemmas.”
“Soundsgood.”
“Let’sstartwithKant.Hisethicsareprettystraightforward.”
IopenthebinderofreadingsTolberthandedoutatthestartoftheyearandflipthroughthepagesuntilIfindallthematerialonImmanuelKant.Garrettslideshisbigbodytotopofthebedandrestshisheadonthewoodenframe,lettingoutaheavysighasIplopthereadingsinhislap.
“Read,”Iorder.
“Outloud?”
“Yep.Andonceyou’redone,Iwantyoutosummarizewhatyoujustread.Thinkyoucanhandlethat?”
There’sabeat,andthenhisbottomlipquivers.“Thismightbethewrongtimetotellyou,but…Ican’tread.”
Myjawfallsopen.Holyshit.Hecan’tbeseri—
Garrettbarksoutalaugh.“Relax,I’mfuckingaroundwithyou.”Thenhescowlsatme.“YouactuallythoughtIcouldn’tread?JesusChrist,Wellsy.”
Iofferasweetsmile.“Wouldn’thavesurprisedmeintheslightest.”
ExceptGarrettdoesendupsurprisingme.Notonlydoeshereadthematerialinasmooth,articulatevoice,heproceedstosummarizeKant’sCategoricalImperativealmostword-for-word.
“Doyouhaveaphotographicmemoryorsomething?”Idemand.
“Nope.I’mgoodwithfacts.”Heshrugs.“Ijusthaveatoughtimeapplyingthetheoriestothemoralsituations.”
Icuthimsomeslack.“It’stotalbullshit,ifyouaskme.Howcanwebesurewhatthesephilosophers—whoarealllongdead—wouldthinkaboutTolbert’shypotheticals?Forallweknow,they’devaluateitonacase-by-casebasis.Rightandwrongisn’tblackandwhite.It’smorecomplexthan—”
Garrett’sphonebuzzes.
“Shit,onesec.”Heglancesatthescreen,frowns,andsendsanothertext.“Sorry,youweresaying?”
WespendthenexttwentyminutesgoingoverthefinerpointsofKant’sethicalviews.
Garrettsendsaboutfivemoretextsduringthattime.
“OhmyGod,”Iburstout.“AmIgoingtohavetoconfiscatethatthing?”
“Sorry,”hesaysforthezillionthtime.“I’llputitonsilent.”
Whichachievesnothingbecauseheleavesthephoneonhisbinderandthedamnthinglightsupeverytimeanewmessagecomesin.
“Sobasically,logicisthebackboneofKantianethics—”Ihaltwhenthephonescreenflashesagain.“Thisisridiculous.Whokeepstextingyou?”
“Nobody.”
Nobody,myass.Igrabthephoneandclickonthemessageicon.There’snoname,justanumber,butitdoesn’ttakearocketscientisttofigureoutthemessagesarefromafemale.Unlessthere’ssomeguyouttherewhowantsto“lickGarrettallover.”
“You’resextingduringatutoringsession?Whatiswrongwithyou?”
Hesighs.“I’mnotsexting.She’ssexting.”
“Uh-huh.Let’sblameher,shallwe?”
“Readmyresponses,”heinsists.“IkeeptellingherI’mbusy.It’snotmyfaultshecan’ttakethehint.”
Iscrollthroughtheconversationanddiscoverhe’stellingthetruth.Allthemessageshe’ssentinthepastthirtyminuteshaveinvolvedthewordsbusyandstudyingandtalklater
Sighing,Istarttyping.Garrettprotestsandtriestoseizethephonefrommyhand,buthe’stoolate.I’vealreadypressedsend
“There,”Iannounce.“Alltakencareof.”
“IsweartoGod,Wellsy,ifyou…”Hetrailsoffashereadsthemessage.
ThisisGarrett’stutor.You’reannoyingme.We’redoneinthirtyminutes.I’mconfidentyoucankeepyourpantszippeduntilthen.
GarrettmeetsmyeyesandlaughssoloudlyIcan’thelpbutsmile.
“Thatoughttobemoreeffectivethanyourhalf-assedleavemealones,don’tyouthink?”
Hechucklesagain.“Can’targuewiththat.”
“Hopefullythatshutsyourgirlfriendupforawhile.”
“She’snotmygirlfriend.She’sthispuckbunnyIhookedupwithlastyearand—”
“Puckbunny?”Iechoinhorror.“You’resuchapig.Isthatactuallywhatyoucallwomen?”
“Whenthewomanisonlyinterestedinsleepingwithahockeyplayersoshecanbragtoallherfriendsthatshebaggedahockeyplayer?Yeah,that’swhatwecall’em,”hesayswithabitetohisvoice.“Ifanything,I’mtheonebeingobjectifiedinthisscenario.”
“Whateverhelpsyousleepbetteratnight…”Ireachforthebinder.“Let’smoveontoutilitarianism.We’llfocusonBenthamfornow.”
Afterward,Iquizhimonthetwophilosopherswe’vediscussedtonight,andI’mpleasedwhenheanswerseverythingcorrectly,eventhecurveballsIthrowathim.
Fine.SomaybeGarrettGrahamisn’tasdumbasIthoughthewas.
Bythetimeourhourisup,I’mconfidentthathedidn’tjustmemorizetheinformationandspititbackatme.There’sgenuinecomprehensionthere,asiftheethicalideashavetrulysunkinforhim.It’sashamethemakeupexamisn’tmultiplechoice,becausethere’snodoubtinmymindhecouldpassitwithflyingcolors.
“Tomorrowwe’lltacklepostmodernism.”Isigh.“Which,inmyhumbleopinion,isprobablythemostconvolutedschoolofthoughtinhumanhistory.I’vegotrehearsaluntilsixbutI’mfreeafterward.”
Garrettnods.“I’mdonewithpracticearoundseven.Sohowabouteight?”
“I’mgoodwiththat.”Ishovemybooksbackinmybag,thenduckintothebathroomtopeebeforeIhittheroad.WhenIcomeout,IfindGarrettscrollingthroughmyphone.
“Youwentthroughmybag?”Iexclaim.“Seriously?”
“Yourphonewashangingoutofthefrontpocket,”heprotests.“Iwascurioustoseewhatkindofmusicyoulike.”Hisgrayeyesremaingluedtothescreenashestartsreadingnamesoutloud.“EttaJames,Adele,Queen,EllaFitzgerald,Aretha,Beatles—man,thisiswickedeclectic.”Hesuddenlyshakeshisheadindismay.“Hey,didyouknowthere’sOneDirectiononhere?”
“No,really?”Ioozesarcasm.“Itmusthavedownloadeditself.”
“IthinkI’velostallrespectforyou.You’resupposedtobeamusicmajor.”
Isnatchthephonefromhishandsandstuffitinthebag.“OneDirectiondoessomegreatharmonies.”
“Stronglydisagree.”Hischinliftsdecisively.“I’llmakeyouaplaylist.Obviouslyyouneedtolearnthedistinctionbetweengoodmusicandshittymusic.”
Ispeakthroughclenchedteeth.“I’llseeyoutomorrow.”
Garrett’stoneispreoccupiedasheheadstothelaptoponhisdesk.“HowdoyoufeelaboutLynyrdSkynyrd?Ordoyouonlylikebandswheretheguyscoordinatetheiroutfits?”
“Goodnight,Garrett.”
I’mreadytotearmyhairoutasImarchoutoftheroom.Ican’tbelieveIagreedtoaweekandahalfofthis.
Godhelpme.8
HANNAH
AlliecallsthenexteveningasIstormoutofthemusicbuildingfumingoveranotherdisastrousrehearsalwithCass.
“Whoa,”shesayswhenshehearsmycurttone.“What’supyourass?”
“CassidyDonovan,”Ianswerangrily.“Rehearsalwasafuckingnightmare.”
“Ishetryingtostealallthegoodnotesagain?”
“Worse.”I’mtoopissedtorehashwhathappened,soIdon’tbother.“Iwanttomurderhiminhissleep,A.No,Iwanttomurderhimwhenhe’sawakesohecanseethejoyonmyfacewhenIdoit.”
Herlaughterticklesmyear.“Shit.Hepissedyouoffgood,huh?Wanttoventaboutitoverdinner?”
“Can’t.I’mseeingGrahamtonight.”AnotherappointmentI’mnotkeenonkeeping.AllIwanttodorightnowistakeashowerandwatchTV,butknowingGarrett,he’llhuntmedownandyellatmeifIdaretocancelonhim.
“Istillcan’tbelieveyoucavedaboutthetutoringthing,”Alliemarvels.“Hemustbeverypersuasive.”
“Somethinglikethat,”Isayvaguely.
Ihaven’ttoldAllieaboutmyarrangementwithGarrett,mostlybecauseIwanttodelayherinevitableteasingwhenshefindsouthowdesperateIamtogetJustintonoticeme.IknowIwon’tbeabletohidethetruthfromherforever—she’sdefinitelygoingtohavequestionswhenshefindsoutI’mgoingtoapartywiththeguy.ButI’mconfidentIcancomeupwithagoodexcusebythen.
Somethingsaretooembarrassingtoadmit,eventoyourbestfriend.
“Howmuchishepayingyou?”sheaskscuriously.
Likeanidiot,Ithrowoutthefirstnumberthatcomestomind.“Uh,sixty.”
“Sixtydollarsanhour?Holycrap.That’sinsane.Youbettertakemeoutforasteakdinnerwhenyou’redone!”
Asteakdinner?Shit.That’slikethreeshifts’worthofdinermoneyforme.
See,thisiswhypeopleshouldn’tlie.Italwayscomesbacktobiteyouintheass.
“Sure,”Isaylightly.“Anyway,Igottago.Idon’thaveTracy’scartonightsoIneedtocallacab.I’llseeyouinacouplehours.”
ThecampustaxitakesmetoGarrett’s,andImakearrangementstogetpickedupinanhourandahalf.GarretttoldmetojustletmyselfinwhenIcomeoverbecausenobodyeverhearsthebellovertheblaringTVorstereo,butthehouseisquietwhenIwalkinside.
“Graham?”Icalloutfromtheentryway.
“Upstairs,”comeshismuffledreply.
Ifindhiminhisbedroom,cladinsweatpantsandawhitewifebeaterthatshowsoffhisperfectlyformedbicepsandstrongforearms.Ican’tdenythathisbodyis…appealing.He’sbig,notinabulkylinebackerway,butlongandsleekandleanlymuscular.Hissleevelessshirtprovidesaneyefulofthetattooonhisrightupperarm—blackflamesthatcurluptohisshoulderandcoilaroundhisbicep.
“Hey.Whereareyourroommates?”
“It’sFridaynight—wheredoyouthinktheyare?Partying.”Hesoundsglumashepullstheclassreadingsfromthebackpackonthefloor.
“Andyou’rechoosingtostudy,”Iremark.“I’mnotsureifIshouldbeimpressedorfeelsorryforyou.”
“Idon’tpartyduringtheseason,Wellsy.Alreadytoldyouthat.”
Hehad,butIhadn’treallybelievedhim.Howishenotpartyingeverynight?Imean,lookattheguy.He’sdropdeadgorgeousandmorepopularthanJustinBieber.Well,atleastbeforeBeebswentofftherails.
Wesettleonthebedandgetrightdowntowork,buteachtimeGarretttakesafewminutestoreadoveratheory,myminddriftsbacktotonight’srehearsal.Angercontinuestosimmerinmybelly,andalthoughI’mashamedtoadmitit,mybadmoodleaksintothestudysession.I’mcrabbierthanImeantobe,andmuchharsherthannecessarywhenGarrettmisinterpretsthematerial.
“It’snotthatcomplicated,”Imutterwhenhecompletelymissesthepointforthethirdtime.“He’ssaying—”
“Allright,Igetitnow,”hecutsin,aggravationcreasinghisforehead.“Noneedtosnapatme,Wellsy.”
“Sorry.”Ibrieflyclosemyeyestocalmmyself.“Let’sjustmoveontothenextphilosopher.We’llcomebacktoFoucaultattheend.”
Garrettfrowns.“We’renotmovingontoanything.Notuntilyoutellmewhyyou’vebeenbitingmyheadoffsinceyougothere.What,didLoverboyignoreyouinthequadorsomething?”
Hissarcasmonlyintensifiesmyannoyance.“No.”
“Areyouonyourperiod?”
“OhmyGod.Youaretheworst.Justread,willyou?”
“I’mnotreadingadamnthing.”Hecrosseshisarms.“Look,there’saneasyfixforthisbitchfestofyours.Allyouhavetodoistellmewhyyou’remad,I’llassureyouyou’rebeingridiculous,andthenwecanstudyinpeace.”
I’veunderestimatedGarrett’sstubbornness.ButIreallyoughttoknowbetter,seeingashowI’vebeenbestedbyhistenacityonmorethanoneoccasion.Idon’tparticularlywanttoconfideinhim,butmyargumentwithCassislikeadarkcloudovermyhead,andIneedtodispelthestormyenergybeforeitconsumesme.
“Hewantsachoir!”
Garrettblinks.“Whowantsachoir?”
“Myduetpartner,”Isaydarkly.“AKAthebaneofmyexistence.Iswear,ifIwasn’tafraidImightbreakmyhand,I’dpunchhimrightinhissmug,stupidface.”
“Youwantmetoteachyouhowtothrowdown?”Garrettpresseshislipstogetherasifhe’stryinghardnottolaugh.
“I’mtemptedtosayyes.Seriously,thisguyisimpossibletoworkwith.Thesongisfantastic,butallhedoesisnitpickeverymicroscopicdetail.Thekey,thetempo,thearrangement,thefrickin’clotheswe’regoingtowear.”
“Okay…sowhat’sthisaboutachoir?”
“Getthis—Casswantsachoirtoaccompanyusforthelastchorus.Afuckingchoir.We’vebeenrehearsingthispieceforweeks,Garrett.Itwassupposedtobesimpleandunderstated,justthetwoofusshowcasingourvoices,andsuddenlyhewantstomakeahugeproductionoutofit?”
“Hesoundslikeadiva.”
“Hetotallyis.I’mreadytoriphisheadoff.”Myangerissovisceralitcoatsmythroatandmakesmyhandstremble.“Andthen,ifthat’snotinfuriatingenough,twominutesbeforerehearsalendshedecidesweshouldchangethearrangement.”
“What’swrongwiththearrangement?”
“Nothing.Nothingiswrongwiththearrangement.AndMaryJane—thegirlwhowrotethefuckingsong—isjustsittingtheresayingnothing!Idon’tknowifshe’sscaredofCassorinlovewithhimorwhothehellknowswhat,butshe’snohelpatall.Sheclamsupwheneverwestartfighting,whenwhatsheshouldbedoingisvoicinganopinionandtryingtoresolvetheissue.”
Garrettpurseshislips.Sortoflikethewaymygrandmadoeswhenshe’sdeepinthought.It’skindofadorable.
Buthe’dprobablykillmeifItoldhimhejustremindedmeofmygrandmother.
“What?”Ipromptwhenhedoesn’tspeak.
“Iwanttohearthissong.”
Surprisefiltersthroughme.“What?Why?”
“Becauseyou’vebeenbabblingaboutitsincethemomentImetyou.”
“ThisisthefirsttimeI’veeverbroughtitup!”
Herespondswiththatflippanthand-wavingthingagain,whichI’mstartingtosuspecthedoesoften.“Well,Iwanttohearit.IfthisMaryJanechickdoesn’thavetheballstoofferlegitimatecriticism,thenI’lldoit.”Heshrugs.“Maybeyourduetpartner—what’shisnameagain?”
“Cass.”
“MaybeCassisrightandyou’rejusttoostubborntoseeit.”
“Trustme,he’swrong.”
“Fine,thenletmebethejudge.Singbothversionsofthesongforme—thewayitisnow,andthewayCasswantsit—andI’lltellyouwhatIthink.Youplay,right?”
Ifurrowmybrow.“Playwhat?”
Garrettrollshiseyes.“Instruments.”
“Oh.Yeah,Ido.Pianoandguitar…why?”
“I’llberightback.”
HeducksoutoftheroomandIhearhisfootstepsthudinthehall,followedbythesoundofadoorcreakingopen.Hereturnswithanacousticguitarinhand.
“Tuck’s,”heexplains.“Hewon’tmindifyouplayit.”
Igritmyteeth.“I’mnotserenadingyou.”
“Whynot?Youfeelingself-consciousorsomething?”
“No.Ijusthavebetterthingstodo.”Igivehimapointedlook.“Likehelpyoupassyourmidterm.”
“We’realmostdonewithpostmodernism.Allthehardstuffstartsnextsession.”Hisvoicetakesonateasingnote.“C’mon,we’vegottime.Letmehearit.”
Thenheflashesthatboyishgrin,anddamnedifIdon’tcave.Hereallyhasmasteredthatlittleboylook.Excepthe’snotalittleboy.He’samanwithabig,strongbodyandachinthatliftsindetermination.Teasinggrinsaside,IknowGarrettwillharassmeallnightifIdon’tagreetosing.
Iaccepttheguitarandplopitinmylap,givingitafewteststrums.It’sintune,abittinnierthantheacousticIhaveathome,butthesoundisgreat.
Garrettclimbsonthebedandliesdown,restinghisheadonamountainofpillows.I’venevermetanyonewhosleepswithsomanypillows.Maybeheneedsthemtocradlehismassiveego.
“Okay,”Itellhim.“Thisishowwe’redoingitnow.Pretendthere’saguyjoiningmeinthefirstchorus,andthensingingthesecondverse.”
Iknowalotofsingerswhoaretooshytoperforminfrontofstrangers,butI’veneverhadthatproblem.EversinceIwasakid,musichasalwaysbeenanescapeforme.WhenIsing,theworlddisappears.It’sjustmeandthemusicandadeepsenseoftranquilitythatI’veneverbeenabletofindanywhereelse,nomatterhowhardItry.
Itakeabreath,playtheopeningchords,andstarttosing.Idon’tlookatGarrettbecauseI’malreadysomewhereelse,lostinthemelodyandthewords,whollyfocusedonthesoundofmyvoiceandtheresonanceoftheguitar.
Ilovethissong.Itrulydo.It’shauntinglybeautiful,andevenwithoutCass’srichbaritonetocomplementmyvoice,itstillpacksthesamepunch,thesameheart-wrenchingemotionthatMJpouredintothelyrics.
Almostimmediately,myheadclearsandmyheartfeelslighter.Iamwholeagain,becausethemusichasmademethatway,justlikeitdidaftertherape.Wheneverthingsgottoooverwhelmingorpainful,I’dgotothepianoorpickupmyguitar,andI’dknowjoywasn’toutofreach.Itwasalwayswithinmygrasp,alwaysavailabletomeaslongasIwasabletosing.
Severalminuteslater,thefinalnotelingersintheairlikeatraceofsweetperfume,andIfloatbacktothepresent.IturntoGarrett,buthisfaceisexpressionless.Idon’tknowwhatIwasexpectinghimtodo.Praiseme?Mockme?
ButIhadn’texpectedsilence.
“DoyouwanttohearCass’sversion?”Ihedge.
Henods.That’sit.Aquickjerkoftheheadandnothingmore.
Hisshutteredfaceunsettlesme,sothistimeIclosemyeyeswhenIsing.ImovethebridgetowhereCassargueditshouldbe,addasecondchoruslikeheinsisted,andIhonestlydon’tthinkI’mbiasedwhenIsayIprefertheoriginal.Thissecondversiondrags,andtheextrachorusisoverkill.
Tomysurprise,GarrettagreeswithmeonceI’vefinished.“It’stoolongwhenyoudoitlikethat,”hesaysgruffly.
“Iknow,right?”I’mthrilledtohearhimvalidatemyownconcerns.GodknowsMJcan’tspeakhermindaroundCass.
“Andforgetthechoir.Youdon’tneedit.Hell,Idon’tthinkyouneedCass.”Heshakeshisheadinamazement.“Yourvoiceis…fuck,Wellsy,it’sbeautiful.”
Mycheeksheatup.“Youthinkso?”
Hisimpassionedexpressiontellsmehe’sdeadserious.“Playsomethingelse,”heorders.
“Um.Whatdoyouwanttohear?”
“Anything.Idon’tcare.”I’mstartledbytheintensityinhisvoice,theemotionnowglitteringinhisgrayeyes.“Ijustneedtohearyousingagain.”
Wow.Okay.MyentirelifepeoplehavebeentellingmeI’mtalented,butotherthanmyparents,nobodyhaseverpleadedwithmetosingtothem.
“Please,”hesayssoftly.
SoIsing.Anoriginalpiecethistime,butit’sstillroughsoIendupswitchingtoanothersong.Iplay“StandByMe.”It’smymom’sfavoritesong,theoneIsingtohereveryyearforherbirthday,andthememorycarriesmeawaytothatpeacefulplaceagain.
Halfwaythroughthesong,Garrett’seyesfluttershut.Iwatchthesteadyriseandfallofhischest,myvoicecrackingfromtheemotionbehindthelyrics.Thenmygazetravelstohisface,andInoticeasmallwhitescaronhischin,bisectingthestubbleshadowinghisjaw.Iwonderhowhegotit.Hockey?Anaccidentwhenhewasakid?
Hiseyesstayclosedforthedurationofthesong,andasIstrumthelastchord,I’vedecidedhemustbeasleep.Iletthelastnotetrailoff,thensetdowntheguitar.
Garrett’seyespopopenbeforeIcanrisefromthebed.
“Oh.You’reawake.”Iswallow.“Ithoughtyouweresleeping.”
Heslidesupintoasittingposition,histonelacedwithsheerawe.“Wheredidyoulearntosinglikethat?”
Ishrugawkwardly.UnlikeCass,I’mfartoomodesttosingmyownpraises.“Idon’tknow.It’sjustsomethingI’vealwaysbeenabletodo.”
“Didyoutakelessons?”
Ishakemyhead.
“Soyoujustopenedyourmouthonedayandthatcameout?”
Alaughslipsout.“Yousoundlikemyparents.Theyusedtosaytheremusthavebeenamix-upatthehospitalnurseryandtheygotthewrongkid.Everyoneinmyfamilyistonedeaf.Theystillcan’tfigureoutwhoIgotthemusicgenefrom.”
“Ineedtogetyoutosignanautographforme.Thatwaywhenyou’recleaningupattheGrammys,IcansellitoneBayandmakeakilling.”
Iletoutasigh.“Themusicbusinessistough,dude.ForallIknow,I’llcrashandburnifItrytomakeagoatit.”
“Youwon’t.”Convictionringsinhisvoice.“Andbytheway?Ithinkyou’remakingamistakesingingaduetfortheshowcase.Youshouldbeonthatstagealone.Seriously,ifyousittherewithasinglespotlightonyouandsinglikeyoujustdidnow?You’llgiveeveryoneintheaudiencechills.”
IthinkGarrettmightberight.Notaboutthechillsthing,butthatImadeamistaketeamingupwithCass.“Well,it’stoolate.I’malreadycommitted.”
“Youcouldalwaysbackout,”hesuggests.
“Noway.That’sadickmove.”
“I’mjustsaying,ifyoubackoutnow,youstillhavetimetocomeupwithasolo.Ifyouwaittoolong,you’llbescrewed.”
“Ican’tdothat.”Ieyehiminchallenge.“Wouldyouletyourteammatesdowniftheywerecountingonyou?”
Heanswerswithouthesitation.“Never.”
“ThenwhatmakesyouthinkI’ddothat?”
“BecauseCassisn’tyourteammate,”Garrettsaysquietly.“Fromthesoundofit,he’sbeenworkingexclusivelyagainstyoufromthestart.”
Again,I’mafraidhe’sright,butitreallyistoolatetomakeachange.Icommittedtotheduet,andnowIhavetofollowthroughonit.
“Iagreedtosingwithhim,”Isayfirmly.“Andmywordmeanssomething.”IglanceatGarrett’salarmclockandcursewhenInoticethetime.“Ihavetogo.Myride’sprobablywaitingoutside.”Iquicklyslideoffthebed.“Justhavetopeefirst.”
Hesnickers.“TMI.”
“Peoplepee,Garrett.Dealwithit.”
WhenIcomeoutofthebathroomafewminuteslater,Garrettwearsthemostinnocentexpressionontheplanet.Soofcourse,I’minstantlymistrustful.Istareatthebooksstrewnonthemattress,thenatthemessengerbagIleftonthefloor,butnothingseemsoutofplace.
“Whatdidyoudo?”Idemand.
“Nothing,”hesaysnonchalantly.“Anyway,Ihaveagametomorrownight,soournextsessionwillhavetobeSunday.Isthatcool?Lateafternoon-ish?”
“Sure,”Ianswer,butIstillcan’tfightthesneakingsuspicionhe’suptosomething.
Itisn’tuntilIwalkintomydormroomfifteenminuteslaterthatIdiscovermysuspicionswerewarranted.MyjawdropsinoutragewhenatextfromGarrettcomesin
Him:Confession:Ideletedallthe1Directionfromyourphonewhenyouwereinthecan.You’rewelcome.
Me:WHAT??I’mgoingtokissyou!
Him:Withtongue?
Ittakesmeasecondtorealizewhathappened,atwhichpointI’mcompletelymortified.
Me:Killu!ImeantKILLyou.Damnautocorrect.
Him:Surrrrrre.Let’sblameitonautocorrect.
Me:Shutit.
Him:Ithinksomeonewantstokissme…
Me:Goodnight,Graham.
Him:Yousureyoudon’twanttocomebackhere?Giveourtonguessomeexercise?
Me:Ew.Never.
Him:Uh-huh.PS—checkyouremail.IsentyouaSpotifyplaylist.Actualmusic.
Me:Whichwillbegoingstraighttomytrashfolder.
I’mgrinningtomyselfasIsendthemessage,andAlliechoosesthatexactmomenttowanderintomyroom.
“Whoareyoutexting?”She’sdrinkingoneofhernastyjuices,andthestrawpopsoutofhermouthasshegasps.“Holyshit!IsitJustin?”
“Naah,justGraham.He’sbeinganannoyingjackassasperusual.”
“What,youtwoarefriendsnow?”sheteases.
Ifalter.It’sonthetipofmytonguetovoiceadenial,butitfeelswrongwhenIrememberIspentthepasttwohoursconfidinginGarrettaboutmyissueswithCassandthenserenadinghimlikeafrickin’troubadour.Andhonestly,asinsufferableasheisattimes,GarrettGrahamisn’tasbadasIthoughthewas.
SoIofferaruefulgrinandsay,“Yeah.Iguessweare.”9
GARRETT
GregBraxtonisabeast.I’mtalkingsix-five,twohundredandtwentypoundsofpurepower,andthekindofspeedandprecisionthat’sgoingtolandhimaplumcontractwithanNHLteamoneday.Well,onlyiftheleagueiswillingtooverlookallthetimehespendsinthesinbin.It’sthesecondperiodandBraxtonhasalreadytakenthreepenalties,oneofwhichresultedinagoalcourtesyofLogan,whoskatespastthepenaltyboxtogiveBraxtonasmuglittlewave.Bigmistake,becausenowBraxton’sbackontheice,andhe’sgotanaxetogrind.
Heslamsmeintotheplexisoharditjarseveryboneinmybody,butIluckilygetthepassoffandshakethedisorientedcobwebsfrommybrainintimetoseeTuckflickawristshotpastSt.Anthony’sgoalie.Thescoreboardlightsup,andeventhegroansandboosfromthecrowddon’tdiminishthesenseofvictorycoursingthroughmyveins.Awaygamesareneverasexhilaratingashomegames,butIfeedofftheenergyofthecrowd,evenwhenit’snegative.
Whenthebuzzersignalstheendoftheperiod,weheadintothelockerroomleadingSt.Anthony’s2-0.Everyoneisridingthehighofthetwo-periodshutout,butCoachJensenwon’tletuscelebrate.Doesn’tmatterthatwe’reahead—heneverletsusforgetwhatwe’redoingwrong.
“DiLaurentis!”heshoutsatDean.“You’relettingnumberthirty-fourtossyouaroundlikearagdoll!Andyou—”CoachglaresatoneofoursophomoreD-men.“You’vegiventhemtwobreakaways!Yourjobistoshadowthoseassholes.DidyouseethathitLogandeliveredatthestartoftheperiod?Iexpectthatkindofphysicalplayfromyou,Renaud.Nomorepansy-asshipchecks.Hit’emlikeyoumeanit,kid.”
AsCoachmarchestotheotherendofthelockerroomtodishoutmorecriticism,LoganandIexchangegrins.Jensenisatotalhard-ass,buthe’sdamngoodathisjob.Hegivespraisewhenpraiseisdeserved,butforthemostpart,hepushesushardandmakesusbetter
“Thatwasabrutalhit.”TuckshootsmeasympatheticlookasIliftmyjerseytogingerlyexaminemyleftside.
Braxtonabsolutelypummeledme,andIcanalreadyseeabluishdiscolorationformingonmyskin.Gonnaleaveahelluvabruise.
“I’lllive,”Ianswerwithashrug.
Coachclapshishandtosignalit’stimetogetbackontheice,andtheskateguardscomeoffaswefiledownthetunnel.
AsImakemywaytothebox,Icanfeelhiseyesonme.Idon’tseekhimout,butIknowwhatI’llfindifIdo.Myfather,hunkereddowninhisusualseatatthetopofthebleachers,hisRangerscappulledlowoverhiseyes,hislipssetinatightline.
St.Anthony’scampusisn’ttoofarfromBriar,whichmeansmyfatheronlyhadtodriveanhourfromBostontogethere,butevenifwe’dbeenplayinghoursawayataweekendinvitationalduringthesnowstormofthecentury,he’dstillbethere.Myoldmannevermissesagame.
PhilGraham,hockeylegendandproudfather.
Yeahfuckingright.
Iknowdamnwellhedoesn’tcometothegamestowatchhissonplay.Hecomestowatchanextensionofhimselfplay.
SometimesIwonderwhatwouldhavehappenedifIsuckedass.WhatifIcouldn’tskate?Couldn’tshoot?WhatifI’dgrownuptobeascrawnytwigwiththecoordinationofaKleenexbox?OrifI’dbeenintoartormusicorchemicalengineering?
Heprobablywould’vehadacoronary.Ormaybeconvincedmymothertogivemeupforadoption.
IswallowtheacridtasteofbitternessasIjoinmyteammates.
Blockhimout.He’snotimportant.He’snothere.
It’swhatIremindmyselfeverytimeIswingmybodyoverthatwallandplantmyskatesontheice.PhilGrahamisnothingtome.Hestoppedbeingmyfatheralongtimeago.
Theproblemis,mymantraisn’tfoolproof.Icanblockhimout,yes,andhe’snotimportanttome,hellyes.Butheishere.He’salwayshere,damnit.
Thethirdperiodisintense.St.Anthony’sisplayingfortheirlives,desperatetokeepfrombeingshutout.Simmsisunderattackfromthewordgo,whileLoganandHollisscrambletoholdoffSt.A’sstartinglinefromrushingournet.
Sweatdripsdownmyfaceandneckasmyline—me,Tuck,andaseniornicknamedBirdie—goontheoffensive.St.Anthony’sdefenseisajoke.TheD-menbankontheirforwardstoscoreandtheirgoalietostoptheshotstheyineptlyletintotheirzone.LogantangleswithBraxtonbehindournetandcomesoutvictorious.HispassconnectswithBirdie,who’slightningfastashehurtlestowardtheblueline.BirdieflipsthepucktoTuckerandthethreeofusflyintoenemyterritoryonanoddmanrush,bearingdownonthehopelessdefensemenwhodon’tknowwhathit’em.
Thepuckfliesinmydirectionandtheroarofthecrowdpulsesinmyblood.Braxtoncomestearingdowntheicewithmeinhissights,butI’mnotstupid.IunloadthepucktoTuck,hip-checkingBraxtonasmyteammatedekesoutthegoalie,fakesashot,thenslapsitbacktomefortheone-timer.
Myshotwhizzesintothenetandtheclockrunsdown.WebeatSt.Anthony’s3-0.
EvenCoachisingoodspiritsaswefileintothelockerroomafterthethird.We’veshutouttheotherteam,stoppedthebeastthatisBraxton,andaddedasecondwintoourrecord.It’sstillearlyintheseason,butwe’reallseeingchampionshipstarsinoureyes.
Loganflopsdownonthebenchbesidemeandbendsovertounlacehisskates.“Sowhat’sthedealwiththetutor?”Histoneiscasualasfuck,butIknowhimwell,andthere’snothingcasualaboutthequestion.
“Wellsy?Whatabouther?”
“Isshesingle?”
Thequestioncatchesmeoffguard.Logangravitatestowardgirlswhoarerail-thinandsweeterthansugar.Withherendlesscurvesandtotalsmartassness,Hannahdoesn’tfiteitherofthosebills.
“Yeah,”Isaywarily.“Why?”
Heshrugs.Allcasualagain.Andagain,Iseerightthroughit.“She’shot.”Hepauses.“Youtappingthat?”
“Nope.Andyouwon’tbeeither.She’sgothersightsonsomedouchebag.”
“Theytogether?”
“Naah.”
“Doesn’tthatmakeherfairgamethen?”
Istiffen,justslightly,andIdon’tthinkLogannotices.Luckily,KennySimms,ourwizardofagoalie,wandersoverandputsanendtotheconvo.
I’mnotsurewhyI’msuddenlyonedge.I’mnotintoHannahinthatway,buttheideaofherandLoganhookingupmakesmeuneasy.MaybebecauseIknowwhataslutLogancanbe.Ican’tevencountthenumberoftimesI’veseenachickdoawalkofshameoutofhisbedroom.
ItpissesmeofftopictureHannahsneakingoutofhisroomwithsex-tousledhairandswollenlips.Ididn’texpectittohappen,butIkindalikeher.Shekeepsmeonmytoes,andlastnightwhenIheardhersing…Shi-it.I’veheardthewordspitchandtonethrownaroundonAmericanIdol,butIdon’tknowsquataboutthetechnicalaspectsofsinging.WhatIdoknowisthatHannah’sthroatyvoicehadgivenmefuckingchills.
IpushallthoughtsofHannahfrommyheadasIhittheshowers.Everyoneelseisridingthevictoryhigh,butthisisthepartofthenightIdread.Winorlose,Iknowmyfatherwillbewaitingintheparkinglotwhentheteamheadsforourbus.
Ileavethearenawithmyhairdampfromtheshowerandmyhockeybagslungovermyshoulder.Sureenough,theoldmanisthere.Standingneararowofcars,hisdownjacketzippeduptohiscollarandhiscapshieldinghiseyes.
LoganandBirdieflankme,crowingaboutourwin,butthelatterstopsinhistrackswhenhespotsmydad.“Yougonnasayhello?”hemurmurs.
Idon’tmisstheeagernoteinhisvoice.Myteammatescan’tunderstandwhyIdon’tshouttothewholefuckingworldthatmyfatheristhePhilGraham.Theythinkhe’sagod,whichIguessmakesmeademigodforhavingthegoodfortunetobesiredbyhim.WhenIfirstcametoBriar,theyusedtoharassmeforhisautograph,butIfedthemsomelineabouthowmyfatheriswickedprivate,andfortunatelythey’vequitbadgeringmetointroducethem.
“Nope.”Ikeepwalkingtowardthebus,turningmyheadjustasIpasstheoldman.
Oureyeslockforamoment,andhenodsatme.
Onelittlenod,andthenheturnsawayandlumberstowardhisshinysilverSUV.
It’sthesameoldroutine.Ifwewin,Igetanod.Ifwelose,Igetnothing.
WhenIwasyounger,hewouldatleastputonafatherlyshowofsupportafteraloss,abullshitsmileofencouragementoraconsolatorypatonthebackifanyonehappenedtobelookingatus.Butthemomentwewerealone,theproverbialgloveswouldcomeoff.
Iclimbontothebuswithmyteammatesandbreatheasighofreliefwhenthedriverpullsoutofthelot,leavingmyfatherinourrearviewmirror.
IsuddenlyrealizethatdependingonhowtheEthicsexamgoes,Imightnotevenbeplayingnextweekend.Theoldmandefinitelywon’tbehappyaboutthat.
GoodthingIdon’tgiveashitwhathethinks.10
HANNAH
MymomcallsonSundaymorningforourweeklyphonechat,whichI’vebeenlookingforwardtofordays.WerarelyhavetimetotalkduringtheweekbecauseI’minclassallday,rehearsingintheevenings,andfastasleepbythetimeMomfinisheshernightshiftatthegrocerystore.
TheworstthingaboutlivinginMassachusettsisnotbeingabletoseemyparents.Imissthemsofrickin’much,butatthesametime,Ineededtogetfar,farawayfromRansom,Indiana.I’veonlybeenbackoncesincemyhighschoolgraduation,andafterthatvisit,weallagreeditwouldbebetterifIdidn’tcomehomeanymore.MyauntanduncleliveinPhiladelphia,somyparentsandIflythereforThanksgivingandChristmas.Therestofthetime,Ispeaktothemonthephone,orifI’mlucky,they’reabletoscrapetogetherenoughmoneytocomeseeme.
It’snotthemostidealarrangement,buttheyunderstandwhyIcan’tcomehome,andInotonlyunderstandwhytheycan’tleave,IknowI’mtoblameforit.IalsoknowI’mgoingtospendtherestofmylifetryingtomakeituptothem.
“Hey,sweetie.”Mymother’svoiceslidesintomyearlikeawarmembrace
“Hey,Mom.”I’mstillinbed,snuggledupinablanketcocoonandstaringupattheceiling.
“HowdidyoudoontheEthicsmidterm?”
“IgotanA.”
“That’swonderful!See,Itoldyoutherewasnothingtoworryabout.”
“Trustme,therewas.Halftheclassfailed.”Irollontomysideandrestthephoneonmyshoulder.“How’sDad?”
“He’sgood.”Shepauses.“Hepickedupextrashiftsatthemill,but…”
Mybodytenses.“Butwhat?”
“Butitdoesn’tlooklikewe’llbeabletogettoAuntNicole’sforThanksgiving,sweetie.”
Thepainandregretinhervoicecutsmelikeaknife.Tearsprickmyeyes,butIblinkthemaway.
“Youknowwejusthadtofixtheleakintheroof,andoursavingstookahitfromthat,”Momsays.“Wedon’thavemoneyforairfare.”
“Whydon’tyoudrive?”Iaskweakly.“It’snotthatlong…”Uh-huh,justafifteen-hourdrive.Notlongatall
“Ifwedothat,yourfatherwillneedtobookmoretimeoff,andhecan’taffordtogiveupthehours.”
Ibitemyliptokeepthetearsatbay.“MaybeIcan…”IquicklycalculatehowmuchsavingsI’vegot.DefinitelynotenoughforthreeplaneticketstoPhilly.
ButitisenoughforonetickettoRansom.
“Icanflyhome,”Iwhisper.
“No.”Herresponseisswiftandunequivocal.“Youdon’thavetodothat,Hannah.”
“It’sjustforoneweekend.”I’mtryingtoconvincemyself,nother.Tryingtoignorethepanicthatclawsitswayupmythroatatthethoughtofgoingbackthere.“Wedon’thavetodriveintotownorseeanyone.IcanjusthangoutatthehousewithyouandDad.”
There’sanotherlongpause.“Isthatwhatyoureallywant?Becauseifitis,thenwe’llwelcomeyouhomewithopenarms,youknowthat,sweetie.Butifyou’renotonehundredpercentcomfortablewithit,thenIwantyoutostayatBriar.”
Comfortable?I’mnotsureit’spossibleformetoeverfeelcomfortableinRansomagain.IwasapariahbeforeIleft,andtheonetimeIcamebacktovisit,myfatherlandedinjailforassault.Sono,goingbackisaboutasappealingascuttingoffmyarmandfeedingittowolves
Mysilence,howeverbrief,isalltheanswermymotherneeds.“You’renotcomingback,”shesayssternly.“YourdadandIwouldlovetoseeyouonThanksgiving,butI’mnotputtingmyownhappinessaheadofyours,Hannah.”Hervoicecracks.“It’sbadenoughthatwe’restilllivinginthisgodforsakentown.There’snoreasonforyoutoeverstepfoothereagain.”
Yeah,noreasonformetodothatatall.Exceptformyparents.Youknow,thepeoplewhoraisedme,wholovemeunconditionally,whostoodbymethroughthemosthorrificexperienceofmylife.
Andwhoarenowstuckinaplacewhereeveryonedespisesthem…becauseofme
God,Iwantthemtobefreeofthattown.IfeelsoguiltythatIwasabletoleave,andworse,thatIleftthembehind.They’replanningonmovingthefirstchancetheyget,buttherealestatemarkethasbeenonadownswing,andwiththesecondmortgagetheytookinordertopayourlegalfees,they’llgobankruptiftheytrytosellthehousenow.Andalthoughtherenovationsmydadisdoingwillboostthehouse’svalue,they’realsotakingmoneyoutofhispocketinthemeantime.
Iswallowthelumpinmythroat,wishinglikehellthatcircumstancesweredifferent.“I’llsendyouthemoneyI’vegotsavedup,”Iwhisper.“Youcanputittowardthemortgage.”
Thefactthatshedoesn’tobjecttellsmethey’reinanevenworsepositionthanthey’vebeenlettingon.
“AndifIwintheshowcasescholarship,”Iadd,“I’llbeabletopaymyresidenceandmealfeesfornextyear,soyouandDadwon’thavetoworryaboutit.”Iknowthatwillhelpthemoutevenmore,becausethefullscholarshipIgotfromBriaronlycoversmytuition.Myfolkshavebeentakingcareoftheotherexpenses.
“Hannah,Idon’twantyouworryingaboutmoney.YourdadandIwillbeokay,Ipromise.Oncewefinishtheupdatesonthehouse,we’llbeinamuchbetterpositiontolistit.Inthemeantime,Iwantyoutoenjoycollege,sweetie.Stopworryingaboutus,andstartfocusingonyou.”Hertonebecomesplayful.“ArethereanynewboyfriendsIshouldknowabout?”
Ismiletomyself.“Nope.”
“Ohcomeon,therehastobesomeoneyou’reinterestedin.”
MycheeksheatupasIthinkaboutJustin.“Well.Thereis.Imean,we’renotdatingoranything,butIwouldn’tbeagainstit.Ifhewasinterested.”
Momlaughs.“Thenaskhimout.”
Whydoeseveryonethinkthat’ssoeasyformetodo?
“Yeah,maybe.Youknowme,Iliketotakethingsslow.”Orrather,notatall.Ihaven’tgoneonasingledatesinceDevonandIbrokeuplastyear.
Iquicklychangethesubject.“Tellmeaboutthatnewmanageryouwerebitchingaboutinyourlastemail.Itsoundslikehe’sdrivingyounuts.”
WechataboutMom’scashierjobforawhile,thoughithurtslikehelltohearaboutit.Sheusedtobeanelementaryschoolteacher,butshe’dbeenletgoaftermyscandal,andthebastardsintheschoolsystemhadevenfoundaloopholethatmadeitpossibleforthemtopayhertheshittiestseverancepossible.Whichhadgonestraighttomyfamily’smountainofdebt—andhadbarelymadeadentinit.
Momtellsmeaboutmydad’snewobsessionwithbuildingmodelplanes,regalesmewiththeanticsofourdog,andboresmewithdetailsofthevegetablegardenshe’splantinginthespring.Noticeablyabsentfromtheconversationisanymentionoffriendsordinnersintownorthecommunityeventsallsmalltownsareknownfor.Becauselikeme,myparentsarealsothetownpariahs.
Unlikeme,theydidn’traceoutofIndianaliketheirasseswereonfire.
Inmydefense,Ihaddesperatelyneededafreshstart.
Ijustwishtheywereabletogetone,too.
Bythetimewehangup,I’mcaughtbetweenoverwhelmingjoyandprofoundsorrow.Ilovetalkingtomymother,butknowingIwon’tseeherandDadonThanksgivingmakesmewanttocry.
Fortunately,AlliepopsintomybedroombeforeIsurrendertothesadnessandendupspendingtherestofthedaybawlinginbed.“Hey,”shesayscheerfully.“Wannagrabbreakfastintown?Tracysayswecantakehercar.”
“OnlyifwegoanywherebutDella’s.”There’snothingworsethaneatingwhereyouwork,especiallysincemoreoftenthannot,Dellaropesmeintostayingforashift.
Allierollshereyes.“There’snowhereelsethatservesbreakfast.Butfine.Let’sjusteatinthedininghall.”
Ihopoutofbed,andAlliehopsrightintoit,sprawlingontheblanketasIwalktothedressertograbsomeclothes.
“Whowereyouonthephonewith?Yourmom?”
“Yeah.”Islipasoftbluesweaterovermyheadandsmoothoutthehem.“I’mnotseeingthemforThanksgiving”
“Aw,I’msorry,babe.”Alliesitsup.“Whydon’tyoucometoNewYorkwithme?”
It’satemptingoffer,butIpromisedmymomI’dsendhermoney,andIdon’twanttocompletelydepletemysavingsaccountbyblowingitonatrainticketandaweekendinNewYork.“Ican’taffordit,”Ianswerruefully.
“Crap.I’dpayyourwayifIcould,butI’mbrokebecauseofthatMexicotripmeandSeantookinthespring.”
“Iwouldn’tletyoupayforme,anyway.”Igrin.“We’regoingtobestarvingartistswhenwegraduate,remember?Weneedtosaveallthepennieswecan.”
Shesticksouthertongue.“Noway.We’regoingtobefamousrightoutofthegate.You’llsignamulti-recorddeal,andI’llbestarringinarom-comalongsideRyanGosling.Who,bytheway,willfallmadlyinlovewithme.Andthenwe’llliveinaMalibubeachhousetogether.”
“Youandme?”
“No,meandRyan.Youcancomevisit,though.Youknow,whenyou’renothangingoutwithBeyoncéandLadyGaga.”
Ilaugh.“Youdodreambig.”
“It’llhappen,babe.Justyouwatch.”
Isincerelyhopeso,especiallyforAllie’ssake.She’splanningonmovingouttoL.A.thesecondshegraduates,andhonestly,Icantotallypictureherstarringinaromanticcomedy.She’snotAngelinaJolie-beautiful,butshe’sgotacute,fresh-facedlookandcomedictimingthatwouldplaywellinthosequirkyromanticroles.Theonlythingthatworriesmeis…well,she’stoosoft.AllieHayesishands-downthemostcompassionatepersonI’veevermet.SheturneddownafreeridetoUCLA’sdramaprograminordertostayontheEastCoastbecauseherfatherhasmultiplesclerosisandshewantedtobeabletogettoNewYorkatamoment’snoticeifheeverneededher.
SometimesI’mafraidHollywoodwilleatheralive,butshe’sasstrongassheissweet,andshe’salsothemostambitiouspersonI’veevermet,soifanyonecanmaketheirdreamscometrue,it’sAllie.
“Letmebrushmyteethandwashup,andthenwecango.”Iglanceovermyshoulderonmywaytothedoor.“Areyouaroundtonight?I’mtutoringuntilsix,butIthoughtwecouldwatchsomeTedLassoafterward.”
Sheshakesherhead.“I’mhavingdinnerwithSean.I’llprobablycrashathisplacetonight.”
Agrintugsonmylips.“Soyouguysaregettingseriousagain,huh?”AllieandSeanhavebrokenupthreetimessincefreshmanyear,butthetwoofthemalwaysseemtowindupineachother’sarmsagain.
“Ithinkso,”sheadmitsasshefollowsmeintothecommonroom.“We’vebothgrownupalotsincethelastbreakup.ButI’mnotreallythinkingaboutthefuture.We’regoodtogetherrightnow,andthat’sgoodenoughforme.”Shewinks.“Anditdoesn’thurtthatthesexisfan-fucking-tastic.”
Imusterupanothersmile,butdeepdown,Ican’thelpbutwonderwhatthatfeelslike.Thefantasticsexpart.
Mysexlifehasn’texactlybeensunshineandrainbowsandsparklytiaras.It’sbeenfearandangerandyearsoftherapy,andwhenIwasfinallyreadytotrymyhandatthewholesexthing,itcertainlydidn’tworkoutthewayIwanted.Twoyearsaftertherape,IsleptwithacollegefreshmanImetatacoffeeshopinPhillywhenIwasvisitingmyaunt.Wespentthewholesummertogether,butthesexwasawkwardandlackingpassion.AtfirstIthoughtmaybewejustdidn’thavechemistry…untilthesamethinghappenedwithDevon.
DevonandIhadthekindofchemistrythatcouldsetaroomonfire.Iwaswithhimforeightmonths,insanelyattractedtotheguy,butnomatterhowhardItried,Iwasn’tabletogetpastmy…fine,I’llcallaspadeaspade.Mysexualdysfunction.
Icouldn’thaveanorgasmwithhim.
It’ssofuckingmortifyingeventhinkingaboutit.AndevenmorehumiliatingwhenIrememberhowfrustratingitwasforDevon.Hetriedtopleaseme.God,hetried.Andit’snotlikeIcan’thaveorgasmsonmyown—becauseIcan.Easily.ButIjustcouldn’tmakeithappenwithDevon,andeventuallyhegrewtiredofworkingsohardandnotseeinganyresults.
Sohedumpedme.
Idon’tblamehim.Mustbeamajorhitonyourmanhoodwhenyourgirlfrienddoesn’tenjoyyoursexlife.
“Hey,you’rewhiteasasheet.”Allie’sconcernedvoicejerksmebacktothepresent.“Areyouallright?”
“I’mfine,”Iassureher.“Sorry,Ispacedout.”
Herblueeyessoften.“You’rereallyupsetaboutnotseeingyourparentsforThanksgiving,huh?”
Ieagerlytaketheexitshegivesme,noddinginagreement.“Likeyousaid,itsucks.”Imanageashrug.“ButI’llseethematChristmas.That’ssomething,atleast.”
“It’severything,”shesaysfirmly.“Nowbrushyourteethandmakeyourselfbeautiful,babe.I’llhavecoffeewaitingforyouwhenyoucomeback.”
“Awgee,you’rethebestwifeyever.”
Shegrins.“Justforthat,I’mspittinginyourcoffee.”11
GARRETT
Hannahshowsuparoundfiveinathickparkawithafurhoodandbrightredmittens.ThelastIchecked,therewasn’taspeckofsnowontheground,butnowI’mwonderingifIsomehowsleptthroughablizzardwhenIwastakingmycatnap.
“DidyoujustflyinfromAlaska?”Iaskassheunzipsthepuffyparka.
“No.”Shesighs.“I’mwearingmywintercoatbecauseIcouldn’tfindmyotherone.IthoughtImighthaveleftithere.”Sheglancesaroundmybedroom.“Iguessnot,though.Ugh.IhopeIdidn’tleaveitinthemusicroom.Ijustknowoneofthosefreshmangirlsisgoingtostealit.AndIlovethatcoat.”
Isnicker.“What’syourexcuseforthemittens?”
“Myhandswerecold.”Shecocksherhead.“What’syourexcusefortheicepack?”
IrealizeI’mstillholdinganicepacktomyside,rightwhereGregBraxton’sbehemothbodyhadslammedintome.I’mbruisedtoshit,andHannahgaspswhenIliftthebottomofmyshirttoshowherthefist-sizedpurplebruiseonmyskin.
“OhmyGod!Didthathappenatyourgame?”
“Yup.”IslideoffthebedandheadformydesktograbmyEthicsbooks.“St.Anthony’shastheIncredibleHulkontheirteam.Helovestowailonus.”
“Ican’tbelieveyouwillinglyputyourbodythroughthis,”shemarvels.“Itcan’tbeworthit,canit?”
“Itis.Trustme,afewscrapesandbruisesarenothingcomparedtothethrillofbeingontheice.”Iglanceoverather.“Doyouskate?”
“Notreally.Imean,Ihaveskated.ButIusuallyjustgoaroundincirclesontherink.I’veneverhadtoholdastickorchaseapuckaround.”
“Isthatwhatyouthinkhockeyis?”Iaskwithagrin.“Holdingastickandchasingapuck?”
“Ofcoursenot.Iknowthere’salotofskillinvolved,andit’sdefinitelyintensetowatch,”sheadmits.
“It’sintensetoplay.”
Sheperchesontheedgeofmybed,tiltingherheadcuriously.“Haveyoualwayswantedtoplay?Orisitsomethingyourdadforcedyouinto?”
Itense.“Whatmakesyouthinkthat?”
Hannahshrugs.“Someonetoldmeyourdadislikeahockeysuperstar.Iknowtherearealotofparentsouttherewhoforcetheirkidstofollowintheirfootsteps.”
Myshouldersareevenstiffernow.I’msurprisedshehasn’tbroughtupmyfatherbeforenow—Idoubtthere’sanyoneatBriarwhodoesn’tknowI’mPhilGraham’sson—butI’malsostartledbyhowperceptivesheis.NobodyhaseveraskedmeifIactuallyenjoyplayinghockey.TheyjustassumeImustloveitbecausemyfatherplayed.
“Hepushedmeintoit,”Iconfessinagruffvoice.“IwasskatingbeforeIevenhitthefirstgrade.ButIkeptplayingbecauseIlovethesport.”
“That’sgood,”shesayssoftly.“Ithinkit’simportanttobedoingwhatyoulove.”
I’mafraidshemightaskmorequestionsaboutmyfather,soIclearmythroatandchangethesubject.“Sowhichphilosophershouldwestartwith—HobbesorLocke?”
“Youpick.They’rebothincrediblyboring.”
Ichuckle.“Waytomakemeenthusiasticaboutit,Wellsy.”
Butshe’sright.Thenexthourisbrutal,andnotjustbecauseofthemind-numbinglydulltheories.I’mabsolutelystarvingbecauseIsleptthroughlunch,butIrefusetoendthesessionuntilI’vemasteredthematerial.WhenIstudiedforthemidtermbefore,Ifocusedonlyonthemajorpoints,butHannahmakesmeexamineeverylastdetail.Shealsoforcesmetorephraseeachtheory,whichIhavetoadmit,givesmeabetterhandleontheconvolutedcrapwe’restudying
Afterwe’dmuddledthroughitall,Hannahquizzesmeoneverythingwe’vereadthesepastfewdays,andwhenshe’ssatisfiedIknowmystuff,sheclosesthebinderandnods.
“Tomorrowwe’llstartapplyingthetheoriestoactualethicaldilemmas.”
“Soundsgood.”Mystomachgrumblessoloudlyitpracticallyshakesthewalls,andIwince.
Shesnorts.“Hungry?”
“Famished.Tuckdoesallthecookinginthehouse,buthe’snothometonightsoIwasgoingtoorderapizza.”Ihesitate.“Doyouwanttostickaround?Haveacoupleslicesandmaybewatchsomething?”
Shelookssurprisedbytheinvitation.Itsurprisesmetoo,buthonestly,Iwouldn’tmindthecompany.Loganandtheotherswentouttohitupaparty,butIwasn’tinthemoodtotagalong.AndI’vemanagedtogetaheadonallmycoursereadings,soI’vegotshitalltodotonight.
“Whatdoyouwanttowatch?”sheaskswarily.
“MystreamingservicejustaddedeveryseasonofBreakingBad.IkeepmeaningtowatchitbutIneverhavetime.”
“Isthattheshowabouttheheroinedealer?”
“Methcooker.Ihearit’sfuckingawesome.”
Hannahrunsherfingersthroughherhair.Sheseemsreluctanttostay,butequallyreluctanttogo.
“Whatelsedoyouhavetodotonight?”Iprompt.
“Nothing,”shesaysglumly.“Myroommateisspendingthenightatherboyfriend’s,soIwasjustgoingtowatchTVanyway.”
“Sodoithere.”Igrabmycellphone.“Whatdoyoulikeonyourpizza?”
“Um…mushrooms.Andonions.Andgreenpeppers.”
“Soprettymuchalltheboringtoppings?”Ishakemyhead.“We’regettingbaconandsausageandextracheese.”
“WhybotheraskingmewhatIlikeifyou’renotgoingtoorderanyofit?”
“BecauseIwashopingyou’dhavebettertastethanthat.”
“I’msorryyoufindvegetablesboring,Garrett.Whydon’tyougivemeacallwhenyougetscurvy?”
“ScurvyisadeficiencyofVitaminC.Youdon’tputsunshineororangesonpizza,sweetheart.”
Intheend,Icompromisebyorderingtwopizzas,onewithHannah’sboring-asstoppings,theotherloadedwithmeatandcheese.Icoverthemouthpieceandglanceather.“DietCoke?”
“WhatdoIlooklike,apansy?RegularCoke,thankyouverymuch.”
Chuckling,Iplaceourorder,thenputonthefirstepisodeofBreakingBad.We’retwentyminutesinwhenthedoorbellrings.
“Wow.Fastestpizzadeliveryguyever,”Hannahremarks.
Mystomachisnotcomplainingintheslightest.Iheaddownstairsandgrabourfood,thenpopintothekitchentograbpapertowelsandabottleofBudLightfromthefridge.Atthelastsecond,IgrabanextrabottleincaseHannahwantsone.
ButwhenIofferittoherupstairs,shevehementlyshakesherhead.“No,thankyou.”
“What,you’retoomuchofaprudetohaveonebeer?”
Discomfortflickersinhereyes.“I’mnotabigdrinker,okay?”
Ishrugandcrackopenmybeer,takingadeepswigasHannahripsapieceofpapertowelofftherollandpriesagooeyvegetable-coveredsliceoutofthebox.
Wesettleonthebedtoeat,neitherofusspeakingasIturntheshowbackon.Thepilotepisodeisamazing,andHannahdoesn’tobjectwhenIclickonthenextone.
There’safemaleinmybedroomandneitherofusisnaked.It’sstrange.Butkindanice.Wedon’ttalkmuchduringtheshow—we’retooengrossedbywhat’shappeningonthescreen—butoncethesecondepisodeends,Hannahturnstomeandgapes.
“OhmyGod,imaginenotknowingthatyourhusbandiscookingmeth?PoorSkylar.”
“She’sdefinitelygoingtofindout.”
Hannahgasps.“Hey.Nospoilers!”
“That’snotaspoiler,”Iprotest.“It’saprediction.”
Sherelaxes.“Okay,good.”
ShepicksupherCokecanandtakesadeepswig.I’vealreadydemolishedmypizza,butHannah’sisonlyhalfdone,soIstealapieceandtakeabigbite.
“Ohhhh,lookwho’seatingmyboringpizza.Cananyonesayhypocrite?”
“It’snotmyfaultyoueatlikeabird,Wellsy.Ican’tletfoodgotowaste.”
“Ihadfourslices!”
Ihavetoconcede,“Yeah,thatactuallymakesyouatotalpigcomparedtothegirlsIknow.Themosttheyevereatishalfastartersalad.”
“That’sbecausetheyneedtostayrail-thinsoguyslikeyouwillfindthemattractive.”
“There’snothingattractiveaboutawomanwho’sallskinandbones.”
“Uh-huh,I’msureyou’resoturnedoffbyskinnywomen.”
Irollmyeyes.“No.I’mjustsayingIprefer’emcurvy.”Iswallowmylastbitebeforereachingforanotherslice.“Amanlikeshavingsomethingtograbontowhenhe’s…youknow.”Iarchmyeyebrowsather.“Itgoesbothways,though.Imean,wouldn’tyourathersleepwithaguywho’sbuiltoveronewho’satwig?”
Shesnorts.“IsthisthepartwhereIcomplimentyouonyoursuperhotbod?”
“YouthinkI’msuperhot?Thanks,baby.”
“No,youthinkyou’resuperhot.”Shepursesherlips.“ButIsupposeyouhaveapoint.I’mnotattractedtoscrawnyguys.”
“ThenIguessit’sagoodthingLoverboyisshreddedlikelettuce,huh?”
Shesighs.“Wouldyoustopcallinghimthat?”
“Nope.”Ichewthoughtfully.“I’llbehonest.Idon’tknowwhatyouseeinhim.”
“Why,becausehe’snotMr.BigManonCampus?Becausehe’sseriousandsmartandnotaragingmanwhore?”
Shit,Iguessshe’sboughtintoKohl’sact.IfIhadahat,I’dprobablytipitofftotheguyforsuccessfullycreatingapersonathatdriveswomenwild—thenerdathlete.
“Kohlisn’twhatheseems,”Isayroughly.“Iknowhecomesoffasthesmart,mysteriousjock,butthere’ssomething…slimyabouthim.”
“Idon’tthinkhe’sslimyatall,”sheobjects.
“Right,becauseyou’vehadaplethoraofdeep,meaningfulconversationswithhim,”Icrack.“Trustme,he’sputtingonashow.”
“Agreetodisagree.”Shesmirks.“Besides,you’reinnopositiontojudgewhoI’minterestedin.FromwhatIhear,youonlydateairheads.”
Ismirkrightback.“You’rewrong.”
“AmI?”
“Yup.Ionlysleepwithairheads.Idon’tdate.”
“Slut.”Shepauses,curiosityetchingintoherface.“Howcomeyoudon’tdate?I’msureeverygirlatthiscollegewouldkilltobeyourgirlfriend.”
“I’mnotlookingforarelationship.”
Thatperplexesher.“Whynot?Relationshipscanbereallyfulfilling.”
“Saysthewomanwho’ssingle.”
“I’msinglebecauseIhaven’tfoundanyoneIconnectwith,notbecauseI’manti-relationship.It’snicehavingsomeonetospendtimewith.Youknow,talking,cuddling,allthatmushystuff.Don’tyouwantthat?”
“Eventually.Butnotrightnow.”Iflashacockygrin.“IfIeverfeeltheneedtotalktosomeone,I’vegotyou.”
“Soyourairheadsgetthesex,andI’mtheonewhohastolistentoyoubabble?”Sheshakesherhead.“IfeellikeI’mgettingtheshortendofthatdeal.”
Iwigglemyeyebrows.“Aw,youwantthesextoo,Wellsy?I’mhappytogiveittoyou.”
HercheeksturnthebrightestshadeofredI’veeverseen,andIburstoutlaughing.
“Relax.I’mjustkidding.I’mnotstupidenoughtobonemytutor.I’llendupbreakingyourheart,andthenyou’llfeedmefalseinformation,andI’llfailthemidterm.”
“Again,”shesayssweetly.“You’llfailthemidtermagain.”
Iflipupmymiddlefinger,butI’mgrinningasIdoit.“YoutakingoffnoworshouldIputonEpisode3?”
“Episode3.Definitely.”
Wegetcomfortableonthebedagain,meonmybackwithmyheadonthreepillows,Hannahonherstomachatthefootofthebed.Thenextepisodeisintense,andonceit’sdone,we’rebotheagertowatchthenextone.BeforeIknowit,we’redonewiththefirstfiveepisodesandmovingtothesecondhalfoftheseason.Inbetweencliffhangers,wediscusswhatwe’vejustseenandmakepredictions,andhonestly?Ihaven’thadthismuchplatonicfunwithagirlin…well,ever
“Ithinkhisbrother-in-lawisontohim,”Hannahmuses.
“Areyoukiddingme?Ibettheysavethatrevealfortheend.IthinkSkylar’sgonnafindoutsoon,though.”
“Ihopeshedivorceshim.WalterWhiteisthedevil.Seriously.Ihatehim.”
Ichuckle.“He’sananti-hero.You’resupposedtohatehim.”
Thenextepisodecomeson,andweshutupimmediately,becausethisisthekindofshowthatrequiresyourfullattention.ThenextthingIknow,we’vereachedtheseasonfinale,whichendswithascenethatleavesuswide-eyed.
“Holyshit,”Iexclaim.“We’redonewiththefirstseason.”
Hannahbitesherlipandstealsaglanceatthealarmclock.It’snearlyteno’clock.We’vejustwatchedsevenepisodeswithoutsomuchasabathroombreak.
Iexpecthertoannounceit’stimeforhertogo,butshesighsinstead.“Areyouupforseasontwo?”
Ican’tcontrolmylaughter.“Youwanttokeepwatching?”
“Afterthatfinale?Howcanwenot?”
Shemakesagoodpoint.
“Atleastthepremiere,”shesays.“Don’tyouwanttoseewhathappens?”
Itotallydo,andsoIdon’tobjectwhensheloadsthenextepisode.“Youwantasnackorsomething?”Ioffer.
“Sure.”
“I’llgoseewhatwehave.”
Ifindtwomicrowavepopcornpouchesinthekitchencupboard,nukethemboth,andheadbackupstairswithtwobowlsofpopcorninmyhands.
Hannahhasstolenmyspot,herdarkhairfannedonmystackofpillows,legsstretchedoutinfrontofher.Herredandblackpolkadotsocksmakemegrin.I’venoticedshedoesn’tweardesignerclothingorpreppygetupslikemostofthefemalesatthisschool,orthetrashypartyclothesyouseeonGreekRowandatthecampusbarsonweekends.Hannahisallaboutskinnyjeansandleggingsandtight-fittingsweaters,whichmightlookelegantifshedidn’talwaysthrowinaflashofbrightcolor.Likethesocks,orthemittens,orthosequirkyhairclipsshewears.
“Isoneofthoseforme?”ShegesturestothebowlsI’mholding.
“Yup.”
Ihandoneover,andshesitsupandshovesherhandinside,thengiggles.“Ican’teatpopcornwithoutthinkingaboutNapoleon.”
Iblink.“Theemperor?”
Shelaughsharder.“No,mydog.Well,myfamily’sdog.He’sinIndianawithmyparents.”
“Whatkindofdog?”
“Ahugemuttcrossedwithagazillionbreeds,buthemostlylookslikeaGermanshepherd.”
“DoesNapoleonlikepopcorn?”Iaskpolitely.
Shegrins.“Helovesit.Wegothimwhenhewasapuppy,andthisonetime—Iwasaboutten—myparentstookmetothemovies,andhebrokeintothecupboardswhenwewereoutandmanagedtogetintoaboxofmicrowavepopcornpackets.Therewerelikefiftyoftheminthere.Mymomisallaboutsales,soifthere’severagreatdealatthegrocerystore,she’llbuyuptheentireshelfofwhateverproductisonsale.IguessthatmonthitwasOrvilleRedenbacher’s.Iswear,thatdogateeverysingleoneofthem,packagingincluded.Hewaspoopingoutwholekernelsandbitsofpaperfordays.”
Isnicker.
“Mydadwasfreakingout,”shesays.“HethoughtNapoleonwouldgetfoodpoisoningorsomething,butthevetsaiditwasnobiggieandthatitwouldallcomeouteventually.”Shepauses.“Doyouhaveanypets?”
“No,butmygrandparentshadacatwhenIwasgrowingup.HernamewasPeachesandshewasbatshitcrazy.”Ishovelahandfulofpopcornintomymouth,chucklingasIchew.“Shewassweettomeandmymom,butshefuckinghatedmydad.Whichisn’tsurprising,Iguess.Mygrandparentshatedhimtoo,soshemusthavebeenfollowingtheirlead.Butman,sheterrorizedtheoldbastard.”
Hannahgrins.“What’dshedo?”
“Scratchhimanychanceshegot,pissonhisshoes,thatkindofstuff.”Isuddenlyburstoutlaughing.“Ohshit,thebestthingsheeverdid?ItwasThanksgivingandwewereatmygrandparents’placeinBuffalo,andwe’reallgatheredatthetableabouttoeatwhenPeachescomesinthroughthecatdoor.Rightbehindthehousewasthisravine,sosheusedtoprowlaroundthere.Anyway,shewaltzesinsideandshe’sgotsomethinginhermouth,butnoneofuscantellwhatitis.”
“OhGod.Idon’tlikewherethisisgoing.”
I’mgrinningsohardithurts.“Peachesjumpsuponthetablelikeshe’sthequeenofthecastleorsomeshit,strollsalongtheedgeofthetablecloth,anddumpsadeadrabbitonmyfather’splate.”
Hannahgasps.“Seriously?Gross!”
“Grampsispissinghimselflaughing,andGranisfreakingoutbecauseshethinksallthefoodonthetableiscontaminatednow,andmydad…”MyhumorfadesasIrememberthelookontheoldman’sface.“Let’sjustsayhewasn’tpleased.”
Understatementoftheyear.AchillrunsupmyspineasIrecallwhathappenedwhenwegotbacktoBostonafewdayslater.Whathedidtomymotheraspunishmentfor“shaming”him,ashe’daccusedherofdoingduringhisrage.
TheonlysavinggraceisthatMomdiedayearlater.Shewasn’ttheretowitnessitwhenheturnedhisrageonme,andI’mgratefulforthateverydayofmylife.
Besideme,Hannahgoessomberaswell.“I’mnotseeingmyparentsforThanksgiving.”
Iglanceover,studyingherface.It’sobviousshe’supset,andhersoftconfessiondistractsmefromthecrushingmemoriespressingdownonmychest.“Doyouusuallygohome?”
“No,wegotomyaunt’sfortheholidays,butmyfolkscan’tafforditthisyear,andI…can’taffordtogotothem.”
There’safalsenotethereattheend,butIcan’timaginewhatshemightbelyingabout.
“It’sokay,”shemurmurswhensheseesthesympathyonmyface.“There’salwaysChristmas,right?”
Inod,thoughforme,therearenoholidays.I’drathergetafullbodywaxthangohomeandspendtheholidayswithmyfather.
Isetmypopcornbowlonthenightstandandpickuptheremote.“Readyforseasontwo?”Iaskinacasualvoice.Theconversationhasgottentooheavy,andI’meagertoderailit.
“Bringiton.”
ThistimeIsitbesideher,butthere’sstilltwofeetofspacebetweenus.It’smesseduphowmuchI’menjoyingthis.JusthangingoutwithagirlwithoutworryingabouthowI’mgoingtogetridofherorthatshe’sgoingtostartmakingdemandsonme.
Wewatchthepremiereepisodeofseasontwo,followedbythenextone,andthenthenextone…andthenextthingIknow,it’sthreeinthemorning.
“Ohcrap,isthatthetime?”Hannahblurtsout.Asshevoicesthequestion,ahugeyawnovertakesherface
Irubmywearyeyes,unabletofathomhowitgotthislatewithouteitheroneofusnoticing.We’veliterallywatchedaseasonandahalfoftelevisioninonesitting.
“Shit,”Imumble.
“Ican’tbelievehowlateitis.”Sheyawnsagain,whichtriggersayawnofmyown,andthenwe’rebothsittinginmydarkbedroom—Idon’tevenrememberturningoffthelight—yawningliketwopeoplewhohaven’tsleptinmonths.
“Ishouldgo.”Shestumblesoffthebedandrakesherhandsthroughherhair.“Where’smyphone?Ineedtocallacab.”
Mynextyawnnearlybreaksmyjaw.“Icandriveyou,”Isaygroggily,slidingoffthemattress.
“Noway.Youhadtwobeerstonight.”
“Hoursago,”Iobject.“I’mgoodtodrive.”
“No.”
Exasperationcoursesthroughme.“I’mnotlettingyoutakeacabandwalkthroughcampusatthreeinthefuckingmorning.EitherIdriveyou,oryoustayhere.”
Shelooksstartled.“I’mnotstayinghere.”
“ThenI’mdrivingyou.Noargument.”
HergazetravelstothetwoBudbottlesonthenightstand.Isenseherreluctance,butIalsoseetheexhaustionliningherfeatures.Afteramoment,hershouldersdroopandsheletsoutabreath.“Fine.I’llcrashonyourcouch.”
I’mquicktoshakemyhead.“No.It’sbetterifyousleepinhere.”
Wrongthingtosay,becauseherbodygoesstifferthanaboard.“I’mnotsleepinginyourbedroom.”
“Ilivewiththreehockeyplayers,Wellsy.Who,bytheway,stillaren’thomefromanightofpartying.I’mnotsayingit’llhappen,butthere’sachanceoneofthemmightstumbleintothelivingroomdrunkofftheirassesandgropeyouorsomethingiftheyfindyouonthecouch.I,ontheotherhand,havenointerestingropingyou.”Igesturetomymassivebed.“Thisthingcansleepseven.Youwon’tevenknowI’mhere.”
“Youknow,agentlemanwouldoffertosleeponthefloor.”
“DoIlooklikeagentlemantoyou?”
Shelaughsatthat.“Nope.”There’sabeatofsilence.“Okay,I’llcrashhere.ButonlybecauseIcanbarelykeepmyeyesopen,andIreallydon’twanttowaitforataxi.”
Iwalkovertomydresser.“Youwantsomethingtosleepin?T-shirt?Sweatpants?”
“AT-shirtwouldbegreat.”Eveninthedarkness,Icanmakeouttheflushonhercheeks.“Doyouhaveanextratoothbrush?”
“Yup.Cabinetunderthesink.”IgiveheroneofmyoldT-shirts,andshedisappearsintothebathroom.
Istripoffmyshirtandjeansandclimbintobedinmyboxers.AsIgetcomfortable,Ihearthetoiletflushandthefaucetturnonandoff,andthenHannahreturns,herbarefeetsoftlyslappingthehardwood.ShestandsatthesideofthebedforsolongthatIfinallygroaninirritation.
“Wouldyougetinbedalready?”Igrumble.“Idon’tbite.AndevenifIdid,I’mhalfasleep.Soquitloomingovermelikeaweirdoandgetinhere.”
Themattressdipsslightlyassheclimbsonthebed.There’satugontheblanket,arustlingandasigh,andthenshe’slyingbesideme.Well,notquite.She’sallthewayontheothersideofthebed,nodoubtclingingtotheedgeofthemattresssoshedoesn’tfalloff.
I’mtootiredtomakeasarcasticremarksoIjustmumble,“Night”andclosemyeyesagain.
“Night,”shemurmursback.
Afewsecondslater,I’mdeadtotheworld.12
GARRETT
I’maddictedtothatmomentrightbeforeIwakeup,whenthewispycobwebsinmybrainthreadtogethertoformacoherentballofconsciousness.It’stheultimateWTFmoment.Disorientingandfoggy,withhalfmybrainstilllostinwhateverdreamI’mhaving.
Butsomethingisdifferentaboutthismorning.Mybodyfeelswarmerthanusual,andIbecomeawareofthesweetestsmell.Strawberriesmaybe?No,cherries.Definitelycherries.Andsomethingticklesthebottomofmychin,somethingsoftandhardatthesametime.Ahead?Yup,there’saheadnestledinthecrookofmyneck.Andaslenderarmdrapedacrossmystomach.Awarmleghookedonmythighandasoftbreastrestingonmyleftpec.
MyeyesopengraduallyandIfindHannahsnuggledupagainstme.I’monmybackwithbothmyarmswrappedaroundher,holdinghertighttomybody.Nowondermymusclesaresostiff.Didwesleeplikethisallnight?IrememberbeingonoppositesidesofthebedwhenIfellasleep,sofarapartthatIhalfexpectedtowakeupandfindHannahonthefloor.
Butnowwe’retangledineachother’sarms.It’snice.
I’mgrowingmorealert.Alertenoughtoregisterthatlastthought.It’snice?WhatthefuckamIthinking?Cuddlingisanactreservedsolelyforgirlfriends.
AndIdon’tdogirlfriends.
ButIdon’treleasehereither.I’mfullyawakenow,breathinginherscentandbaskingintheheatofherbody.
Iglanceatthealarmclock,whichisduetogooffinfiveminutes.Ialwayswakeupaheadofthealarm,asifmybodyknowsit’stimetogetup,butIstillsetitasaprecaution.It’sseven.I’veonlygottenfourhoursofsleep,butIfeeloddlyrested.Atpeace.I’mnotreadytoletgoofthatfeelingyet,soIjustlietherewithHannahinmyarmsandlistentohersteadybreathing.
“Isthataboner?”
Hannah’shorrifiedvoiceslicesthroughtheserenesilence.Sheshootsintoasittingposition,thenstumblesbackdown.Yup,Ms.Gracefultripswhilelyingdown,becauseherlegisstillslungovermythighs.Andyup,there’sdefinitemorningwoodhappeninginmysouthernregion.
“Relax,”Isayinasleep-gravellyvoice.“It’sjustamorningchub.”
“Amorningchub?”sheechoes.“OhmyGod.You’reso…”
“Male?”Isupplydryly.“Yes,Iam,andthat’swhathappenstomeninthemorning.It’sbiology,Wellsy.Wewakeupwithwood.Ifitmakesyoufeelbetter,Iaminnowayturnedonrightnow.”
“Fine,I’llacceptyourbiologyexcuse.Nowcanyoupleaseexplainwhyyoudecidedtocuddlewithmeinthemiddleofthenight?”
“Ididn’tdecideadamnthing.Iwasasleep.ForallIknow,you’retheonewhocrawledontopofme.”
“Iwouldnever.Noteveninmysleep.Mysubconsciousknowsbetterthanthat.”Shejabsherfingerinthecenterofmychest,thendivesoffthebedinablurofmotion.
Themomentshe’sgone,Iexperienceasenseofloss.I’mnolongerwarmandcozy,butcoldandalone.
AsIsitupandstretchmyarmsovermyhead,hergreeneyesfixonmybarechestandhernosewrinklesindistaste.
“Icannotbelievemyheadwasonthatthingallnight.”
“Mychestisnotathing.”Igiveherapointedlook.“Otherwomenseemtolikeitjustfine.”
“I’mnototherwomen.”
No,sheisn’t.Becauseotherwomendon’tentertainmeasmuchasshedoes.IsuddenlywonderhowIevermadeitthroughlifewithoutHannahWells’ssarcasticbarbsandannoyedgrumbles.
“Stopgrinning,”shesnaps.
I’mgrinning?Didn’tevenrealizeit.
Shenarrowshereyesasshefumblesforherclothes.MyT-shirthangstoherknees,emphasizingjusthowsmallsheis
“Don’tyoudaretellanyoneaboutthis,”sheorders.
“Whynot?It’llonlyboostyourstreetcred.”
“Idon’twanttobeanotheroneofyourpuckbunnies,andIdon’twantpeoplethinkingIam,understood?”
Heruseofthetermmakesmegrinharder.Ilikethatshe’spickingupthehockeylingo.Maybeoneofthesedays,I’llevenconvincehertocometoagame.IhaveafeelingHannahwouldbeagreatheckler,whichisalwaysanadvantageathomegames.
Thoughknowingher,she’dprobablyheckleusandgivetheotherteamtheadvantage.
“Well,ifyoureallydon’twantanyonetothinkthat,thenIsuggestyougetdressedfast.”Icockabrow.“Unlessyouwantmyteammatestowitnessyourwalkofshame.Whichtheywill,becausewehavepracticeinthirtyminutes.”
Paniclightshereyes.“Crap.”
Ihavetosay,thisisthefirsttimeagirl’sbeenworriedaboutgettingcaughtinmybedroom.Normallytheystrutoutlikethey’vejustbaggedChrisHemsworth.
Hannahtakesabreath.“Westudied.WewatchedTV.Iwenthomelate.That’swhathappened.Gotit?”
Ifightbacklaughter.“Asyouwish.”
“DidyoureallyjustPrincessBrideme?”
“DidyoureallyjustusePrincessBrideasaverb?”
Sheglowersatme,thenpointsafingerinmydirection.“IexpectyoutobedressedandreadytogowhenIgetoutofthatbathroom.You’redrivingmehomebeforeyourroommateswakeup.”
Achuckleofamusementslipsoutasshemarchesintothewashroomandslamsthedoor.
HANNAH
I’mfunctioningonfourhoursofsleep.Killmenow.Onthebrightside,nobodysawGarrettdropmeoffatthedormsearlier,soatleastmyhonorisstillintact
Mymorningclassesdragonforever.Ihaveatheoryclassfollowedbyamusichistoryseminar—bothrequiremetoactuallypayattention,whichishardtodowhenIcanbarelykeepmyeyesopen.I’vealreadychuggedthreecoffeestoday,butinsteadofgivingmeanenergyboost,thecaffeinejustdrainedthemeagerenergyIhadtobeginwith.
Igrabalatelunchinoneofthecampusdininghalls,choosingacornertableinthebackandsendingoutleavemealonevibesbecauseI’mtoodamntiredtomakeconversationwithanyone.Thefoodsucceedsinwakingmeupalittle,andI’mearlywhenIwalkthroughthehugeoakdoorsofthephilosophybuilding.
IneartheEthicslecturehallandstopinmytracks.NoneotherthanJustinisloiteringinthewidecorridor,hisdarkeyebrowsknittedashetextsonhisphone.
EventhoughIshoweredandchangedatthedorm,Istillfeellikeatotalslob.Myoutfitconsistsofyogapants,agreenhoodie,andredrainboots.Theweatherforecastcalledforrainthatdidn’tcome,sonowIfeellikeanidiotformychoiceoffootwear.
Justin,ontheotherhand,issheerperfection.Darkjeanshughislong,muscularlegsandhisblacksweaterstretchesacrosshisbroadshouldersinadeliciouswaythatmakesmeshiver.
MyheartbeatsfasterthecloserIget.I’mtryingtodecideifIshouldsayhelloorjustnodingreeting,buthesolvesthatdilemmabyspeakingfirst
“Hey.”Hismouthcurvesinahalfsmile.“Niceboots.”
Isigh.“Itwassupposedtorain.”
“Thatwasn’tsarcasm.I’mtotallydiggingtheboots.Theyremindmeofhome.”Henoticesmyquizzicallookandquicklyelaborates.“I’mfromSeattle.”
“Oh.Isthatwhereyoutransferredfrom?”
“Yep.Andtrustme,ifit’snotrainingthere,thensomething’swrong.RainbootsareanecessityforsurvivalwhenyouliveinSeattle.”Hetuckshisphoneinhispocket,hisvoicetakingonacasualnote.“SowhathappenedtoyouonWednesday?”
Ifurrowmybrow.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“TheSigmaparty.IlookedforyouwhenIwasdoneplayingpool,butyouwerealreadygone.”
OhmyGod.Hewaslookingforme?
“Yeah,Ileftearly,”Ianswer,hopingIsoundequallycasual.“Ihadanineo’clockclassthenextmorning.”
Justinslantshishead.“IheardyouleftwithGarrettGraham.”
Thatcatchesmeoffguard.Ihadn’tthoughtanyonesawGarrettandmeleavetogether,butclearlyIwaswrong.AndapparentlywordtravelsfasterthanthespeedoflightatBriar.
“Hegavemearidehome,”Ireplywithashrug.
“Oh.Ididn’tknowyouguyswerefriends.”
Ismileimpishly.“There’salotyoudon’tknowaboutme.”
Holyshit.I’mflirtingwithhim.
Hesmilestoo,andthesexiestdimpleI’veeverseenappearsinhischin.“Iguessyou’reright.”Hepausesmeaningfully.“Maybeweoughttochangethat.”
Holyshit.He’sflirtingback.
AndasmuchasIhatetoadmitit,I’mstartingtothinkGarrett’shard-to-gettheoryactuallyholdswater.JustinseemscuriouslyfixatedonthefactthatIleftthepartywithGarrett.
“So…”Hiseyestwinkleplayfully.“Whatareyoudoingaftercla—”
“Wellsy!”
Iswallowagroanatthecheerfulinterruptionfrom—whoelse—Garrett.AslightfrowntouchesJustin’slipsasGarrettstridesuptous,butthenhesmilesandnodsattheunwelcomeintruder
Garrettholdstwofoamcupsinhishands,andhethrustsoneatmewithagrin.“Gotyouacoffee.Ifiguredyoumightneedit.”
Idon’tmissthestrangelookJustinshootsinourdirection,ortheflickerofdispleasureinhiseyes,butIgratefullyacceptthecupandpopthelid,blowingonthehotliquidbeforetakingatinysip.“You’realifesaver,”Ibreathe.
GarrettnodsatJustin.“Kohl,”hesaysingreeting.
Thetwoofthemexchangeamanlyhandslaptypeofthing,notashake,butnotquiteafistbumpeither.
“Graham,”Justinsays.“IheardyouhandedSt.Anthony’sassestothemthisweekend.Nicewin.”
“Thanks.”Garrettchuckles.“IheardyougotyourasshandedtoyouagainstBrown.Bummer.”
“Theregoesourperfectseason,huh?”Justinsaysruefully
Garrettshrugs.“Youguys’llbounceback.Maxwell’sarmisridiculous.”
“Tellmeaboutit.”
SinceIratesportstalkonthesamelevelofboringaspoliticsandgardening,Itakeasteptowardthedoor.“I’mheadingin.Thanksforthecoffee,Garrett.”
MypulsecontinuestoraceasIenterthelecturehall.It’sfunny,butmylifesuddenlyseemstobemovingatlightningspeed.BeforetheSigmaparty,themostcontactIhadwithJustinwasonemeaslynodfromtenfeetaway—andthatwasoveratwo-monthspan.Now,inlessthanaweek,we’vehadtwoconversations,andeitherIwasimaginingit,orhewasabouttoaskmeoutbeforeGarrettinterrupted.
IslideintomyusualseatnexttoNell,whogreetsmewithasmile.“Hey,”shesays.
“Hey.”Iunzipmybagandgrabanotebookandpen.“Howwasyourweekend?”
“Brutal.Ihadahugechemtestthismorning,andIpulledanall-nightertostudyforit.”
“How’dyoudo?”
“Oh,Idefinitelyacedit.”Shesmileshappily,butthejoyfadesfast.“NowIjustneedtodobetteronthismakeuponFriday,andallwillberightintheworldagain.”
“Yougotmyemail,right?”IhadsentNellacopyofmymidtermearlierintheweek,butshehadn’temailedback.
“Idid.SorryIdidn’trespond,butIwasfocusedonchem.I’mplanningonreadingthroughyouranswerstonight.”
Ashadowfallsoverus,andthenextthingIknow,Garrettslidesintotheseatbesideme.“Wellsy,yougotanextrapen?”
Nell’seyebrowsnearlyhittheceiling,andthenshestaresatmelikeI’vesproutedagoateeinthepastthreeseconds.Idon’tblameher.We’vebeenseatbuddiessinceschoolstarted,andnotoncehaveIevenlookedinGarrettGraham’sdirection,letalonetalkedtohim.
Nellisn’ttheonlyonewho’sfascinatedbythisnewseatingarrangement.WhenIlookacrosstheaisle,IfindJustinwatchinguswithanindecipherableexpressiononhisface.
“Wellsy?Pen?”
IshiftmygazebacktoGarrett.“Youcametoclassunprepared?Shocker.”Ireachintomybagagainandrummagearoundforapen,thenslapitintohishand.
“Thanks.”Heoffersthatcockygrinofhisbeforeopeninghisnotebooktoafreshpage.ThenheleansforwardandpeeksoveratNell.“I’mGarrett.”
Shegapesatthehandhe’sstickingoutatherbeforereachingovertoshakeit.“Nell,”shesays.“Nicetomeetyou.”
Tolbertarrivesjustthen,andasGarrettturnshisattentiontothepodium,NellshootsmeanotherWTFlook.Ibringmylipsclosetoherearandmurmur,“We’rekindafriendsnow.”
“Iheardthat,”Garrettpipesup.“Andthere’sno‘kinda’aboutit.We’rebestfriends,Nelly.Don’tletWellsytellyouotherwise.”
Nellgigglessoftly.
Ijustsigh.
Ourlecturetodayfocusesonsomeseriouslyheavyissues.Mainly,theconflictbetweenanindividual’sconscienceversusresponsibilitytosociety.TolbertusestheNazisasourexample.
Needlesstosay,it’sadepressinghourandahalf.
Afterclass,I’mdyingtofinishmyconversationwithJustin,butGarretthasotherideas.Ratherthanletmelinger—orrather,letmemakeabeelineforJustin—hefirmlytakesmyarmandhelpsmetomyfeet.IstealalookatJustin,whowalksbrisklydowntheaisleasifhe’stryingtocatchuptous.
“Ignorehim.”Garrett’svoiceisbarelyaudibleasheguidesmeoutthedoor.
“ButIwanttotalktohim,”Iprotest.“I’mprettysurehewasgoingtoaskmeoutbefore.”
Garrettjustplowsforward,hishandlikeanironvisearoundmyforearm.Ihavetosprinttokeepupwithhislongstrides,andI’mannoyedashellwhenweemergeintothecoolOctoberair.
I’mtemptedtolookovermyshouldertoseeifJustinisbehindus,butIknowGarrettwillchastisemeifIdo,soIresisttheurge.
“Whatthehell?”Idemand,shakinghishandoffme.
“You’resupposedtobeunattainable,remember?You’remakingittooeasyforhim.”
Aggravationrumblesinsideme.“Thewholepointistogethimtonoticeme.Well,he’snoticedme.Whycan’tIstopplayinggamesnow?”
“You’vepiquedhisinterest,”Garrettsaysaswewalkdownthecobblestonepathtowardthecourtyard.“Butifyouwanttokeephisinterest,youneedtomakehimworkforit.Menlikeachallenge.”
Iwanttoarguewithhim,exceptIthinkhemightberight.
“JustplayitcooluntilMaxwell’sparty,”headvises.
“Yes,sir,”Igrumble.“Oh,andbytheway,I’mcancelingonyoutonight.I’mexhaustedfromourmarathonlastnight,andifIdon’tgetsomesleep,I’llbeazombiefortherestoftheweek.”
Garrettdoesn’tlookhappy.“Butweweregoingtostartthehardstufftoday.”
“Tellyouwhat,I’llemailyouasampleessayquestion,somethingTolbertwouldcomeupwith.Giveyourselftwohourstowriteit,andtomorrowwe’llgooverittogether.ThatwayIcangetasenseofwhatweneedtoworkon.”
“Fine,”heconcedes.“I’vegotpracticeinthemorningandthenclass.Comeoveratnoon?”
“Sure,butI’vegottabeoutoftherebythreeforrehearsal.”
“Cool.Seeyoutomorrowthen.”HerufflesmyhairasifI’mafive-year-old,thensauntersoff.
AwrysmiletugsonmylipsasIwatchhimgo,hissilverandblackhockeyjacketplasteringtohischestashewalksintothewind.I’mnottheonlyonelooking—severalwomenalsoswingtheirheadsinhisdirection,andIcanpracticallyseetheirpantiesmeltawayasheflashesthatroguegrinaround.
Rollingmyeyes,Iheadoffintheoppositedirection.Idon’twanttobelateforrehearsal,especiallysinceCassandIstillhaven’treachedanagreementabouthisludicrouschoiridea.
ButwhenIwalkintothemusicroom,Cassisnowheretobeseen.
“Hey,”IgreetMJ,who’satthepianostudyingsheetsofmusic.
Herblondheadpopsup,astrainedsmileonherface.“Oh,hey.”Shepauses.“Cassisn’tcomingtoday.”
Annoyanceeruptsinmybelly.“Whatdoyoumeanhe’snotcoming?”
“Hetextedmeafewminutesago.Hehasamigraine.”
Yeahright.Iknowforafactthatabunchofourclassmates,Cassincluded,wentoutfordrinkslastnight,becauseoneofthemtextedmeaninvitewhenGarrettandIwerewatchingBreakingBad.It’seasytoputtwoandtwotogether—Cassishungoverandthat’swhyhebailed.
“Wecanstillrehearse,though,”MJsays.Thistimehersmilereacheshereyes.“Itmightbenicetorunthroughthesongwithoutstoppingtoargueeveryfiveseconds.”
“Yeah,exceptwhateverwedotoday,he’lljustvetotomorrow.”Iplopintoachairnearthepianoandpinherdownwithahardlook.“Thechoirideaisbullshit,MJ.Youknowitis.”
Shenodsindefeat.“Iknow.”
“Thenwhydidn’tyoubackmeup?”Idemand,unabletomaskmyresentment
Ablushappearsonherpalecheeks.“I…”Shegulpsvisibly.“Canyoukeepasecret?”
Shit.Idon’tlikewherethisisgoing.“Sure…”
“Cassaskedmeout.”
“Oh.”Itrynottosoundsurprised,butit’shardtohideit.MJisasweetgirl,andshe’scertainlynotunattractive,butshe’salsothelastpersonI’dconsiderCassDonovan’stype.
AsmuchasIloathehim,Cassisdropdeadgorgeous.He’sgotthekindofalbum-coverfriendlyfacethatwillsellalotofrecordsoneday,nodoubtaboutthat.Andlook,I’mnotsayingtheplaingirlcan’tgetthehotguy.I’msureithappensallthetime.ButCassisapompous,image-obsessedjerk.SomeonethatsuperficialwouldneverbecaughtdeadwithamousythinglikeMaryJane,nomatterhowsweetsheis.
“It’sokay,”shesayswithalaugh.“Iknowyou’resurprised.Iwastoo.Heaskedmebeforerehearsalthatday.”Shesighs.“Youknow,thechoirday.”
Annnndallthepuzzlepiecesswiftlyslidetogether.IknowexactlywhatCassisupto,andittakessomeseriousefforttoswallowmyanger.It’sonethingtocoaxMJintobackinghimupduringourfights,it’sanothertoleadthepoorgirlon.
ButwhatamIsupposedtosaytoher?Heonlyaskedyououtsoyou’dsupportallhiscrazyideasfortheshowcase?
Irefusetobeanasshole,soIpasteonthemostpolitesmileIcanmusterandask,“Doyouwanttogooutwithhim?”
Hercheeksgoevenredder,andthenshenods.
“Really?”Isayskeptically.“Buthe’ssuchadiva.Like,givingMariahCareyarunforhermoneydiva.Youknowthat,right?”
“Iknow.”Shelooksembarrassednow.“Butthat’sonlybecausehe’ssopassionateaboutsinging.He’sactuallyaniceguywhenhewantstobe.”
Whenhewantstobe?Shesaysitlikeit’stheendorsementoftheyear,butthewayIseeit,peopleshouldbenicebecausetheyare,notbecauseit’sacalculatedmoveontheirpart.
ButIkeepthatopiniontomyself,too.
Iadoptatactfultone.“Areyouafraidthatifyoudisagreewithhisideas,he’llrenegeonthedate?”
Shewinces.“Itsoundspatheticwhenyouphraseitlikethat.”
Um,howelsedoesshewantmetophraseit?
“Ijustdon’twanttomakeanywaves,youknow?”shemumbles,lookinguncomfortable.
No,Idon’tknow.Atall.
“Thisisyoursong,MJ.Andyoushouldn’thavetocensoryouropinionsjusttomakeCasshappy.IfyouhatethechoirideaasmuchasIdo,thentellhim.Trustme,menappreciateawomanwhospeakshermind.”
YetevenasIsaythewords,IknowMaryJaneHarperisnotthatwoman.She’sshyandawkwardandspendsmostofhertimehidingbehindapianoorcurledupinherdormroomwritinglovesongsaboutboyswhodon’treturnthesentiment.
Ohshit.Somethingsuddenlyoccurstome.IsoursongaboutCass?
I’mickedoutatthethoughtthattheemotionallyricsI’vebeensingingformonthsmightactuallybeaboutaguyIloathe.
“Idon’thatethechoiridea,”shehedges.“Idon’tloveit,either,butIdon’tthinkit’sterrible.”
Andinthatmoment,Iknowwithoutadoubtthere’sgoingtobeathree-tieredfuckingchoirstandingbehindCassandmeatthewintershowcase.13
GARRETT
I’mworkingatthekitchencountertonight,frustratedasfuckasIreadoverthepracticeessayHannah“graded”formeearlier.Sheleftmyhousewithordersformetoredothepaper,butI’mhavingatoughtimewithit.Theanswerissimple,damnit—ifsomeonecommandsyoutomurdermillionsofpeople,yousaynothanks,I’llpass.Exceptgoingbythecriterialaidoutinthisbullshittheory,thereareprosandconsforbothsides,andIcan’twrapmyheadaroundit.IguessIsuckatputtingmyselfinsomeoneelse’sshoes,andthat’skindofdisheartening
“Question,”IannounceasTuckwandersintothekitchen.
“Answer,”herepliesinstantly.
“Ihaven’taskedthequestionyet,asshole.”
Grinning,hewasheshishandsatthesinkandthentiesaneonpinkapronaroundhiswaist.Logan,Dean,andIgavehimthefrillymonstrosityasajokeforhisbirthday,ontheargumentthatifhewasgoingtobeourmotherhen,hemightaswelllookthepart.Tuckercounteredbyinsistinghe’smasculineenoughtopulloffanyitemofclothingwethrowhisway,andnowhewearsthedamnthinglikeabadgeofmachohonor.
“Okay,I’llbite,”hesaysasheheadstothefridge.“What’sthequestion?”
“Allright,soyou’reaNazi—”
“Fuckthat,”heinterjects.
“Letmefinish,willya?You’reaNazi,andHitlerhasjustorderedyoutocommitanactthatgoesagainsteverythingyoubelievein.Doyousay,coolbeans,boss,I’llkillallthesepeopleforyou,ordoyousayfuckoff,andriskgettingkilledyourself?”
“Itellhimtofuckoff.”Tuckpauses.“Actually,no.Iputabulletinhishead.Problemsolved.”
Igroan.“Iknow,right?Butthisasshole—”Ipointtothebookonthecounter“—believesthatgovernmentexistsforareason,andcitizensneedtotrusttheirleaderandobeyhisordersforthegoodofthesociety.Sointheory,there’sanargumenttobemadeforgenocide.”
Tuckpullsatrayofchickendrumsticksfromthefreezer.“Bullshit.”
“I’mnotsayingIagreewiththatlineofthinking,butI’msupposedtoarguethisguy’spointofview.”Idragafrustratedhandovermyscalp.“Ifuckinghatethisclass,man.”
Tuckunwrapsthemeattrayandplacesitinthemicrowave.“TheredoisonFriday,huh?”
“Yup,”Isayglumly.
Hehesitates.“AreyougoingtoplayintheEastwoodgame?”
Ibrightenup,becausethismorningIreceivedofficialwordfromCoachthatI’lldefinitelybeontheiceonFriday.Apparentlythemidtermgradesaren’tenteredintothesystemuntilthefollowingMonday,soatthemoment,myaverageisstillwhatitneedstobe.
ComeMonday,ifmyEthicsgradeisaDorlower,I’llbebencheduntilIturnthingsaround.
Benched.Jesus.Justthinkingaboutitmakesmequeasy.AllIwanttodoisleadmyteamtoanotherFrozenFourvictoryandmakeittothepros.No,Iwanttoexcelinthepros.IwanttoprovetoeveryonethatIgotthereonmyownmeritandnotbecauseIhappentobeafamoushockeyplayer’sson.It’sallI’veeverwanted,andIfeelsickknowingthatmygoals,thateverythingI’veworkedsohardfor,isinjeopardybecauseofonestupidclass.
“CoachsaidI’mplaying,”ItellTuck,whohighfivesmesohardmypalmstings.
“Hellyeah,”heexclaims.
Loganentersthekitchen,anunlitcigarettedanglingfromthecornerofhismouth.
“Youbetternotsmokethatinhere,”Tuckerwarns.“Lindawillreamyourass.”
“I’mgoingoutback,”Loganpromises,becauseheknowsbetterthantopissoffourlandlady.“JustwantedtoletyouguysknowthatBirdieandtheguysarecomingovertonighttowatchtheBruinsgame.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Whatguys?”
Loganblinksinnocently.“Youknow,Birdie,Pierre,Hollis,Niko—ifhecanstopbeingpussy-whippedforlongenoughtoleavehisdorm—um,RogersandDanny.Connor.Oh,Kenny,too,and—”
Istophimbeforehecannameeveryguyonourroster.“Sothewholeteam,youmean,”Isaydryly.
“Andtheirgirlfriends,thosewhohave’em.”HeglancesatTuckandme.“It’scool,right?Won’tbeanall-nighteroranything.”
“Aslongasit’sBYOB,I’mcool,”Tuckanswers.“AndifDannyiscoming,thenyoubetterlockuptheliquorcabinet.”
“WecanmovethehoochtoG’sroom,”Logansayswithasnort.“Godknowshewon’tdrinkadropofit.”
Tuckglancesoveratmewithagrin.“Poorbaby.Whenareyougonnalearntohandleyourliquorlikeaman?”
“Hey,Ihandlethedrinkingpartjustfine.It’sthemorningafterthatdoesmein.”Ismirkatmyteammates.“Besides,I’myourcaptain.Somebodyhastostaysobertokeepyourcrazyassesinline.”
“Thanks,Mom.”Loganpauses,thenshakeshishead.“Actually,no,you’rethemom,”hetellsTucker,grinningatTuck’sapronbeforeturningbackatme.“Guessthatmakesyouthedad.Youtwoarepositivelydomestic.”
Webothfliphimthefinger.
“Aw,areMommyandDaddymadatme?”Hegivesamockgasp.“Areyouguysgonnagetadivorce?”
“Fuckoff,”Tucksays,buthe’slaughing.
Themicrowavebeeps,andTuckerpullsoutthedefrostedchicken,thenproceedstocookourdinnerwhileIdomyhomeworkatthecounter.Anddamnedifthewholethingisn’tdomesticashell.14
HANNAH
“Hey,Han-Han.”Alliesurprisesmeatworktonight,slidingintomyboothwithabeamingsmile.WhenSeanslidesinnexttoher,Ihaveatoughtimefightingagrin.They’resittingonthesamesideofthebooth?Whoa,theymustbegettingseriousagain,becauseonlycoupleswhoaremadlyinlovedothat.
“’Sup,Hannah,”SeansaysasheslingshisarmaroundAllie’sslendershoulders.
“Hey.”I’vebeendealingwithpain-in-the-asscustomersallevening,soI’mgenuinelyhappytoseesomefriendlyfaces.“Youguyswantsomethingtodrinkwhileyoulookatthemenu?”
“Chocolatemilkshake,please,”Allieannounces.
Seanholdsuphisindexandmiddlefingers.“Twostraws,”headdswithawink.
Ilaugh.“God,youtwoaresosweetyou’regivingmeatoothache.”
ButI’mhappytoseethemhappy.Forafratboy,Seanisactuallyprettydecent,andhe’sneverfuckedaroundonAllie,asfarasIknow.Theirpastbreakupswerealwaysherdecision—she’dthoughttheyweretooyoungtobesoserious—andSeanhadbeeninfinitelypatientwithhereverytime.
Ipreparetheirloversmilkshake,thendeliverittotheboothwithanextravagantbow.“Madam,monsieur.”
“Thanks,babe.Hey,solisten,”AlliesaysasSeanstudiesthemenu.“SomeofthegirlsonourfloorarehavingaRyanGoslingmoviemarathontomorrownight.”
Seangroans.“AnotherGoslingfest?Idon’tknowwhatchicksseeinthatguy.He’sscrawnyasshit.”
“He’sbeautiful,”Alliecorrectsbeforeglancingatmeagain.“Youin?”
“Dependswhattime.”
“Tracy’sgotalateclass,butshe’llbebackbynine.Soaroundthen?”
“Shit.I’mtutoringatnine.”
Allie’sfacecloudswithdisappointment.“Can’tyoutrytotutorearlier?”Shewiggleshereyebrowsasiftryingtoenticeme.“Val’smakingsangrias…”
Ihavetoadmit,Iamenticed.It’sbeenawhilesinceI’vehungoutwiththegirlsorconsumedanythingalcoholic.Imightnotdrinkatparties(andforadamngoodreason)butIdon’tmindgettingmybuzzoneverynowandthen.
“LetmecallGarrettonmybreak.I’llseeifhe’sfreeearlier.”
Seanlooksupfromthemenu,interestedintheconversationagain.“SoyouandGrahamarebestbudsnow?”
“Naah.It’sjustatutor/tutoreerelationship.”
“Nuh-uh,”Allieteases.Sheturnstoherboyfriend.“They’retotallyfriends.Theytextandeverything.”
“Fine.We’refriends,”Isaygrudgingly.WhenSeangivesmeaknowinggrin,Ipromptlyscowlathim.“Justfriends.Sobanishallthosedirtythoughtsfromyourmind.”
“Ohcomeon,canyoureallyblameme?He’sthecaptainofthehockeyteamandhegoesthroughgirlsfasterthanhegoesthrougharolloftoiletpaper.Youknoweveryone’sgonnathinkyou’rehisnextconquest.”
“Theycanthinkwhatevertheywant.”Iofferalittleshrug.“Butit’snotlikethatwithus.”
Seanseemsunconvinced,whichIchalkuptobeingaguything.Idoubtthere’saguyouttherewhobelievesthatmenandwomenarecapableofbeingpurelyplatonic
IleaveAllieandSeanandtendtomyothercustomers.Whenmybreakrollsaround,IpopintothestaffroominthebacktocallGarrett.Thedialtonegoesonforeverbeforehefinallyanswers,hisgruff“hello”overpoweredbytheloudmusicinthebackground.
“Hey,it’sHannah,”Itellhim.
“Iknow.IhaveCallerID,dumbass.”
“Iwascallingtoseeifwecanchangeourtutoringtimefortomorrow.”
Aswellofhip-hopblastsintomyear.“Sorry,what?”
Iraisemyvoicesohecanhearmebetter.“Canwemeetupearliertomorrow?I’vegotplansatnine,soIwashopingIcouldcomebyaroundseven.Isthatcool?”
HisresponseisdrownedoutbythedeafeningpoundingofJay-Z.
“Whereareyou?”I’mpracticallyshoutingnow.
“Home,”comeshismuffledresponse.“Weinvitedafewpeopleovertowatchthegame.”
Afewpeople?Itsoundslikehe’sinthemiddleofTimesSquare.
“Soyou’recomingatnine?”
Iswallowmyaggravation.“No,atseven.Isthatokay?”
“Garrett,beerme!”avoiceripplesovertheline.JudgingbythefaintTexasdrawl,itmustbeTucker.
“Holdon,Wellsy.Onesec.”Arustlingmeetsmyear,followedbyahowloflaughter,andthenGarrettcomesback.“Okay,tomorrowatninethen.”
“Seven!”
“Right,seven.Sorry,Ican’thearyouatall.I’llseeyoutomorrow.”
Hehangsuponme,butIdon’tcare.I’vediscoveredthispastweekthatGarrettnevertakesthetimetosaygoodbyeonthephone.Itannoyedmeatfirst,butnowIsortofappreciatehistime-savingapproach.
IshovemyphoneinmyapronandreenterthemainroomtotellAllieI’mgoodtogofortomorrownight,andshesquealsinresponse.“Yay!Ican’twaittogetmyGoslingon.Hottest.Guy.Ever.”
“I’msittingrighthere,youknow,”Seangrumbles.
“Babe,haveyouseenthatman’sabs?”shedemands.
Hesighs.
Thefollowingnight,IshowupatGarrett’shouseatseveno’clocksharpandletmyselfinasusual.BeforeIheadupstairs,IpokemyheadintothelivingroomtosayhitoLoganandtheguys.Logan’snotthere,butTuckandDeanare,andtheyglanceupinconfusionwhentheyspotme.
“Hey,Wellsy.”Tuckerwrinkleshisforehead.“Whatchadoinghere?”
“Tutoringyourcaptain,whatelse?”Rollingmyeyes,Istarttoedgeawayfromthedoorway.
“Youdon’twanttogoupthere,babydoll,”Deancallsout.
Istopinmytracks.“Whynot?”
Hislight-greeneyesgleaminamusement.“Uh…hemighthaveforgotten.”
“Well,thenI’llgoupandremindhim.”
Aminutelater,Icompletelyregretthatcourseofaction.
“Yo,Graham,let’sgetthisoverwithsoIcan—”Ihaltmidsentence,freezinglikeadeerinheadlightsafterIopenthedoor.
EmbarrassmentslamsintomewhenIregisterwhatI’mseeing.
Garrettislyingonthebedinallhisbare-chestedglory…whileanakedgirlstraddleshisthighs.
Yep,MissThangisbuck-naked,andshewhirlsaroundinacloudofblondhairatthesoundofmyvoice.Perkybreastsassaultmyvision,butIdon’thavetimetojudgethemonewayortheotherbecauseherear-piercingscreechcutsthroughtheair.
“Whatthehell!”
“Shit.I’msosorry,”Iblurtout.
ThenIslamthedoorandracedownstairslikeI’mbeingchasedbyaserialkiller.
WhenIstumbleintothelivingroomamomentlater,I’mgreetedbytwogrinningfaces.“Wetoldyounottogoupthere,”Tuckersayswithasigh.
Dean’sgrinwidens.“Howwastheshow?Wecan’thearmuchfromdownhere,butIhaveafeelingshe’sascreamer.”
I’msomortifiedthatmycheeksfeellikethey’reburningfromtheinsideout.“Canyoutellyoursluttyfriendtocallmewhenhe’sdone?Actually,no.Tellhimhe’soutofluck.Mytimeisprecious,damnit.I’mnottutoringhimanymorewhenheobviouslydoesn’ttakemyscheduleseriously.”
Withthat,Imarchoutofthehouse,myemotionsalternatingbetweenembarrassmentandanger.Unbelievable.Howisfoolingaroundwithsomegirlmoreimportanttohimthanpassinghismidterm?AndwhatkindofjerkwoulddothatwhenheknowsI’mcomingover?
I’mhalfwaytoTracy’scarwhenthefrontdoorburstsopen,andGarrettrushesout.Heatleasthadthedecencytoputonapairofjeans,buthe’sstillnotwearingashirt.Orshoes,forthatmatter.Hehurriesovertome,hisexpressionamixtureofsheepishandannoyed.“Whatthehellwasthat?”hedemands.
“Areyoukiddingme?”Iretort.“Ishouldbeaskingyouthatquestion.YouknewIwascomingover!”
“Yousaidnine!”
“Ichangedittoseven,andyouknowit.”Mylipstwistinascowl.“MaybenexttimeyoushouldpaymoreattentiontomewhenIcallyou.”
Herakesahandthroughhisshorthair,andhisbicepsbulgeashedoesit.Thecoldaircausesgoosebumpstoriseonhissmooth,goldenskin,andmygazeisunwittinglydrawntothethinlineofhairthatarrowstowardhisunbuttonedwaistband.
Atthesight,anoddflickerofheattravelsfrommybreaststomycore.Mybodysuddenlyfeelstightandachy,myfingerstinglingwiththeurgeto…oh,forfuck’ssake.No.Sowhatiftheguyistotallycut?Thatdoesn’tmeanIwanttoridehimlikeacowgirl.
Healreadyhassomeoneelsedoingthattohim.
“I’msorry,okay?”hegrumbles.“Iscrewedup.”
“No,notokay.One,youclearlydon’trespectmytime,andtwo,youclearlydon’twanttopassthisclass,otherwiseyourpantswouldbezippedandyourtextbookwouldbeopen.”
“Ohreally?”hechallenges.“Soyouexpectmetobelievethatyoustudytwenty-four-sevenandneverhookupwithanyone?”
Discomfortchurnsinmystomach,andwhenIdon’tanswer,suspicionfloodshiseyes.“Youdohookup,don’tyou?”
Anirritablebreathescapesmylips.“OfcourseIdo.Just…notinawhile.”
“What’sawhile?”
“Ayear.Notthatit’sanyofyourbusiness.”Isetmyjawandunlockthedriver’sdoor.“Gobacktoyourfloozy,Garrett.I’mgoinghome.”
“Floozy?”heechoes.“That’sarudeassumption,don’tyouthink?ShecouldbeaRhodesscholar,forallyouknow.”
Iraiseoneeyebrow.“Isshe?”
“Well,no,”herelents.“ButTiffany—”
Isnort.Tiffany.OfcoursehernameisTiffany.
“—isaverysmartgirl,”hefinishesdarkly.
“Uh-huh,I’msuresheis.GobacktoMs.Smartthen.I’mouttahere.”
“Canwereschedulefortomorrow?”
Iopenthecardoor.“No.”
“Isthatso?”Heclampshishandoverthedoorframe.“ThenIguessourdateonSaturdayisofftoo?”
Hestaresatme.
Istarerightback.
Butwebothknowhewon’tbetheonebackingdown.
IsuddenlyflashbacktotheconversationIhadwithJustininthehallwaytheotherday.Mycheeksheatupagain,butthistimeithasnothingtodowiththefactthatIjustcaughtGarrettwithhispantsdown.Literally.Justinhasfinallyacknowledgedmyexistence,andifIbailonthisparty,I’llbepassinguptheopportunitytotalktohimoutsideofschool.It’snotlikewetravelinthesamecircles,sounlessIwanttolimitmyselftoaonce-a-weekinteractioninEthics,Ineedtobeproactiveandseekhimoutawayfromthelecturehall.
“Fine,”ImumbletoGarrett.“I’llseeyoutomorrow.Atseven.”
Hismouthcurvesinaself-satisfiedsmile.“That’swhatIthought.”15
GARRETT
Imakesuretobehome—andalone—whenHannahshowsuponThursdaynight.I’mmoreamusedthanembarrassedthatshewalkedinonTiffandmeyesterday,andhey,atleastithadn’tbeenforthemoneyshot.Hannah’sfacewould’vebeenahundredtimesredderifshe’dheardTiffany’sscreamsoforgasm.
Honestly,apartofmewondersifTiffhadbeenfakingthosepornstarmoans.Idon’tclaimtobeastudinbed,butI’mattentiveashellandI’veneverhadanycomplaintsinthepast.ButlastnightwasthefirsttimeIfeltlikethechickinmybedwasputtingonashow.There’dbeensomethingincredibly…unsatisfyingaboutthewholething.Idon’tknowifshewasfakingitorsimplyexaggeratingherpleasure,buteitherway,I’mnottooeagerforarepeatperformance.
Hannahknocksonmydoor,butshedoesn’tstopatoneknock.Shedoesitatleasttenmoretimes,andthentwomoreevenafterI’veshoutedforhertocomein.
ThedoorswingsopenandHannahstumblesinside,tightlycoveringhereyeswithbothpalms.“Isitsafe?”sheasksloudly.Eyesstillshut,shestretchesherarmsoutinfrontofherlikesomeonefeelingtheirwaythroughthedarkness.
“You’resuchafuckingbrat,”Isaywithasigh.
Hereyelidspopopen,andshefixesmewithadarklook.“I’mjustbeingcareful,”sheanswersinahaughtytone.“GodforbidIwalkinonanotheroneofyoursexfests.”
“Don’tworry,wehadn’tevengottentothesexpart.Ifyoumustknow,wewerestillintheforeplaystage.Secondandthirdbase,tobeexact.”
“Gross.TMI.”
“Youasked.”
“Ididnot.”Shesettlescross-leggedonthebedandpullstheclassbinderoutofherbag.“Okay,enoughchitchat.Let’sreadoveryourrevisedessayandthenwe’lloutlineafewpracticeones.”
IhandoverthepaperI’dfixedup,thenleanbackonthepillowsasHannahreadsit.Onceshe’sdone,shelooksoveratme,andIcantellshe’simpressed.“Thisisprettygood,”sheadmits.
DamnedifIdon’texperienceaburstofpride.IbustedmyassoverthisNazipaper,andHannah’spraisenotonlypleasesme,butitalsoconfirmsthatI’mgettingbetteratputtingmyselfinsomeoneelse’sheadspace.
“Actually,it’sreallygood,”sheamendsassheskimstheconclusionagain.
Imockgasp.“Holyshit.Wasthatacompliment?”
“Nope.Itakeitback.Itsucksass.”
“Toolate.”Iwagmyfingerather.“YouthinkI’msmart.”
Sheletsoutaheavysigh.“You’resmartwhenyouapplyyourself.”Shepauses.“Okay,sothismightbeatotaldickthingtosay,butIalwaysassumedtheschoolwaseasieronathletes.Academically,Imean.Youknow,handingoutfreeA’sbecauseyouguysaresoimportant.”
“Iwish.IknowafewguysontheEastwoodteamwhoseprofessorsdon’tevenreadtheirpapers—theyjustslapanAonthemandhandthemback.ButtheBriarprofsmakeusworkforit.Assholes.”
“Howareyoudoinginyourothercourses?”
“A’sacrosstheboard,andapeskyCinSpanishhistory,butthat’llchangeonceIturninmyfinalpaper.”Ismirk.“GuessI’mnotthedumbjockyouthoughtIwas,huh?”
“Ineverthoughtyouweredumb.”Shesticksouthertongue.“Ithoughtyouwereajackass.”
“Thought?”Ipounceonheruseofthepasttense.“Doesthatmeanyou’veseentheerrorofyourways?”
“Naah,you’restillajackass.”Shegrins.“Butatleastyou’reasmartone.”
“Smartenoughtoacethismidterm?”MyspiritssinkasIvoicethequestion.Themakeupistomorrow,andI’mstartingtostressaboutitagain.I’mnotsureI’mready,butHannah’sconfidenceeasessomeofmyuncertainty
“Definitely,”sheassuresme.“Aslongasyoukeepyourownbiasoutofitandsticktowhatthephilosopherswoulddo,Ithinkyou’llbefine.”
“Ibetterbe.Ireallyneedthisgrade,Wellsy.”
Hervoicesoftens.“Theteam’sthatimportanttoyou?”
“It’smywholelife,”Isaysimply.
“Yourlife?Whoa.You’reputtingalotofpressureonyourself,Garrett.”
“Youwanttotalkaboutpressure?”Bitternesscolorsmytone.“Pressureisbeingsevenyearsoldandforcedtogoonahigh-proteindiettopromotegrowth.Pressureisbeingwokenupatthecrackofdawnsixdaysaweektoskateandrundrillswhileyourfatherblowsawhistleinyourfacefortwohours.Pressureisbeingtoldthatifyoufail,you’llneverbearealman.”
Herfacegoesstricken.“Shit.”
“Yeah,thataboutsumsitup.”Itrytopushthememoriesaway,buttheykeepflashingthroughmymind,tighteningmythroat.“Trustme,thepressureIputonmyselfisnothingcomparedtowhatIhadtodealwithgrowingup.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“Youtoldmeyoulovehockey.”
“Idoloveit.”Myvoicegoeshoarse.“WhenI’montheice,it’stheonlytimeIfeel…alive,Iguess.Andbelieveme,I’mgoingtoworkmyassofftogettowhereIwanttobe.I…fuck,Ican’tfail.”
“Whathappensifyoudo?”shecounters.“What’syourbackupplan?”
Ifrown.“Idon’thaveone.”
“EveryoneneedsaPlanB,”Hannahinsists.“Whatifyougetinjuredandcan’tplayanymore?”
“Idon’tknow.IguessI’dbeacoach.Ormaybeasportscaster.”
“See,youdohaveaplan,then.”
“Iguessso.”Ieyehercuriously.“What’syourPlanB?Ifyoudon’tmakeitasasinger?”
“Honestly,sometimesIdon’tknowifIevenwanttobeasinger.Imean,Iloveit,Ireallydo,butdoingitprofessionallyisawholeotherstory.I’mnotcrazyabouttheideaoflivingoutofasuitcaseorspendingallmytimeonatourbus.Andyeah,Ilikesinginginfrontofanaudience,butI’mnotsureIwanttobeonstageinfrontofthousandsofpeopleonanightlybasis.”Sheshrugs,lookingthoughtful.“SometimesIthinkI’dratherbeasongwriter.Ienjoycomposingmusic,soIwouldn’tmindworkingbehindthescenesandlettingsomeoneelsedothewholestarthing.Ifthatdoesn’tworkout,Icouldgointoteaching.”Shegivesaself-deprecatingsmile.“Andifthatfails,Icouldalwaystrymyhandatstripping.”
Isweepmygazeupanddownherbody,makingabigshowoutoflickingmylips.“Well,you’vedefinitelygotthetitsforit.”
Sherollshereyes.“Pervert.”
“Hey,I’mjuststatingafact.Yourtitsaregreat.Idon’tknowwhyyoudon’tflaunt’emmore.Youknow,throwafewlow-cuttopsintoyourwardroberotation.”
Apinkblushbloomsinhercheeks.Ilovehowquicklyshegoesfromseriousandsassytoshyandinnocent.
“Bytheway,youcan’tdothatonSaturday,”Iinformher.
“What,strip?”shesaysmockingly.
“No,blushlikeatomatoeverytimeImakealewdcomment.”
Hannaharchesonebrow.“Howmanylewdcommentsdoyouplanonmaking?”
Igrin.“DependsonhowmuchIhavetodrink.”
Sheletsoutanexasperatedbreath,andastrandofdarkhaircomesloosefromherponytailandfallsontoherforehead.Withoutthinking,Ireachoutandtucktheerrantstrandbehindherear
Theinstantaneoustensingofhershouldersbringsafrowntomylips.“Youcan’tdothateither.FreezeupwhenItouchyou.”
Alarmflitsthroughhereyes.“Whywouldyoutouchme?”
“BecauseI’msupposedtobeyourdate.Haveyoumetme?I’mahandsyguy.”
“Well,youcankeepyourhandstoyourselfonSaturday,”shesaysprimly.
“Goodplan.AndthenLoverboywillthinkwe’rejustfriends.Orenemies,dependingonhowjumpyyouget.”
Shebitesherlip,andhervisibleagitationonlymakesmeteaseherharder.“Oh,andImightkissyou,too.”
Nowsheglaresatme.“Noway.”
“DoyouordoyounotwantKohltothinkyou’reintome?Becauseifyoudo,you’llneedtoatleasttrytoactlikeit.”
“That’sgoingtobetough,”shesayswithasmirk
“Bullshit.Youlikemelots.”
Shesnorts.
“I’mtotallydiggingthatsnortingthingyoudo,”Itellherfrankly.“It’skindofaturnon.”
“Wouldyouquitit?”shegrumbles.“He’snotintheroomrightnow.YoucansavetheflirtingforSaturday.”
“I’mtryingtogetyouusedtoit.”IpauseasifI’mmullingsomethingover,butreally,I’mgettingahugekickoutofmakingHannahsquirm.“Actually,themoreIthinkaboutit,themoreI’mwonderingifweshouldwarmup.”
“Warmup?Whatthehelldoesthatmean?”
Islantmyhead.“WhatdoyouthinkIdobeforeagame,Wellsy?Justshowupattherinkandthrowmyskateson?Ofcoursenot.Ipracticesixdaysaweektogetready.Icetime,weightroom,watchinggametapes,strategymeetings.Thinkofalltheadvanceprepthatgoesintoit.”
“Thisisn’tagame,”shesaysirritably.“It’safakedate.”
“ButitneedstolookrealforLoverboy.”
“Wouldyoustopcallinghimthat?”
Nope,Ihavenoplanstostop.Ilikehowangryitmakesher.Infact,Ilikepissingheroff,period.EverytimeHannahgetsmad,hergreeneyesblazeandhercheeksturnthecutestshadeofpink.
“Soyeah,”Isaywithanod.“IfI’mgoingtobetouchingandkissingyouonSaturday,Ithinkit’simperativethatwerehearse.”Ilickmylipsagain.“Thoroughly.”
“Ihonestlycan’tdecideifyou’remessingwithmerightnow.”Sheblowsoutanannoyedbreath.“Eitherway,I’mnotlettingyoutouchorkissme,sowipeallthosedirtyideasoutofyourhead.Ifyouwantsomeaction,callTiffany.”
“Yeah,that’snotgonnahappen.”
There’sabitetoHannah’stone.“Whynot?Youseemedprettyintoherlastnight.”
“Itwasaone-timehookup.Andstoptryingtochangethesubject.”Igrinather.“Whydon’tyouwanttokissme?”Inarrowmyeyes.“Ohshit.There’sonlyoneexplanationIcanthinkof.”Ipause.“You’reabadkisser.”
Herjawdropsinoutrage.“Imostcertainlyamnot.”
“Yeah?”Ilowermyvoicetoaseductivepitch.“Proveit.”16
HANNAH
SomehowI’vetraveledbackintimetomythird-gradeplaygrounddays.Unlessthere’sanotherexplanationforwhyGarrettisgoadingmeintokissinghim.
“Idon’thavetoproveadamnthing,”Iinformhim.“Ihappentobeafantastickisser.Sadly,youwillnevergettofindout.”
“Neversaynever,”heanswersinasingsongvoice.
“Thanksforthat,JustinBieber.Butyeah,notgoingtohappen,dude.”
Hesighs.“Igetit.You’reintimidatedbymypotentmasculinity.Chinup,ithappensallthetime.”
Ohbrother.Icanstillrememberthedays—allofaweekago—whenGarrettGrahamwasn’tafixtureinmylife.WhenIdidn’thavetolistentohiscockyremarksorseehisroguegrinsorgetdrawnintoaflirtbattleIhavenointerestin.
ExceptGarretthappenstobevery,verygoodatoneparticularthing:throwingdownthegauntlet.
“Fearisafactoflife,”hesayssolemnly.“Don’tletitgetyoudown,Wellsy.Everyoneexperiencesit.”Heleansbackonhiselbowslikeabigshot.“Tellyouwhat,I’llgiveyouafreepass.Ifyou’retooscaredtokissme,Iwon’tmakeyou.”
“Scared?”Irumble.“I’mnotscared,dumbass.Ijustdon’twantto.”
Anothersighrollsoutofhischest.“ThenIguesswe’rebacktoself-confidenceissues.Don’tworry,therearealotofbadkissersinthisworld,sweetheart.I’msurewithpracticeandperseverance,you’llonedaybeableto—”
“Fine,”Iinterrupt.“Let’sdoit.”
Hismouthslamsshut,eyeswideninginsurprise.Ha.Sohedidn’texpectmetocallhisbluff.
Ourgazeslockinastare-downfortheages.He’swaitingformetobackdown,butI’mconfidentIcanwaithimout.Maybeit’schildishofme,butGarretthasalreadygottenhiswayaboutthistutoringthing.ThistimeIwanttowin.
ButI’veunderestimatedhimyetagain.Hisgrayeyesdarkentosmokymetallicsilver,andsuddenlythere’sheatinhisgaze.Heat,andagleamofself-assurance,asifhe’scertainIwon’tgothroughwithit.
Ihearthatcertaintyinthedismissivetoneheuseswhenhefinallyspeaks.“Allright,showmewhatyou’vegotthen.”
Ifalter.
Fuckinghell.Hecan’tbeserious.
AndIcan’tactuallybeconsideringmeetingthisinanechallenge.I’mnotattractedtoGarrett,andIdon’twanttokisshim.Endofstory.
Except…well,itdoesn’tfeelliketheendofanything.Mybodyisengulfedwithflames,andmyhandsaretremblingnotfromnerves,butanticipation.WhenIpicturehismouthpressedagainstmine,myheartracesfasterthanadrum-and-basstrack.
Whatthehellisthematterwithme?
Garrettinchescloser.Ourthighsaretouchingnow,andeitherI’mhallucinatingit,orIcanactuallyseehispulsethrobbinginthecenterofhisthroat.
Hecan’tpossiblywantthis…canhe?
Mypalmsgrowdamp,butIresistwipingthemonthefrontofmyleggingsbecauseIdon’twanthimtoknowhowunnervedIam.I’mwhollyawareoftheheatradiatingfromhisjean-cladthigh,thefaintscentofhiswoodsyaftershave,theslightcurveofhismouthasheawaitsmynextmove…
“Comeon,”hemocks.“Wedon’thaveallnight,baby.”
NowI’mbristling.Screwit.It’sjustakiss,right?Idon’tevenhavetolikeit.Shuttingthatsmartmouthofhiswillberewardenough.
Archingabrow,Ireachupandtouchhischeek.
Hisbreathhitches.
Isweepmythumboverhisjaw,stalling,waitingtoseeifhe’llstopme,andwhenhedoesn’t,Islowlybringmymouthtohis.
Thesecondourlipsmeet,thestrangestthinghappens.Pulsingwavesofheatunfurlinsideme,startingatmymouthandthenripplingdownmybody,tinglinginthetipsofmybreastsbeforetravelingevenlower.Hetasteslikethepeppermintgumhe’sbeenchewingallnightandthemintyflavorsuffusesmytastebuds.Mylipspartoftheirownvolition,andGarretttakesfulladvantagebyslidinghistongueinside.Whenmytonguetangleswithhis,hemakesalow,growlingnoiseinthebackofhisthroat,andtheeroticsoundvibratesthroughmybody.
Immediately,I’mhitwithajoltofpanicthatspursmetobreakthekiss.
Isuckinashakybreath.“There.Howwasthat?”I’mtryingtosoundunaffectedbywhatjusthappened,buttheslightwobbleinmyvoicebetraysme.
Garrett’seyesaremolten.“Notsure.Itwasn’tlongenoughformetoproperlyjudge.I’mgonnaneedmoretogoon.”
Hisbighandcupsmycheek.
Thisshouldbemycuetoleave.
Instead,Ileaninforanotherkiss.
Andit’sjustaseerilyincredibleasthefirst.Ashistongueslicksovermine,Istrokehischeek,andGod,that’sabigmistakebecausethescratchyfeelofhisstubbleonmypalmintensifiesthepleasurealreadywreakinghavoconmybody.Hisfaceisstrongandmasculineandsexy,andthesheermalenessofhimtriggersanotherburstofneed.Ineedmore.Ididn’texpectto,butdamnit,Ineedmore.
Withananguishedmoan,Ianglemyheadtodeepenthekiss,andmytongueeagerlyexploreshismouth.No,noteagerly—hungrily.I’mhungryforhim.
Garrettthreadshisfingersthroughmyhairandtugsmecloser,onepowerfularmcurlingaroundmyhiptokeepmeinplace.Mybreastsarenowcrushedagainsthisrock-hardchest,andIcanfeelthewildhammeringofhisheart.Hisexcitementmatchesmyown.Theraw,huskygroanhereleasesticklesmylipsandsendsmypulsecareening.
Something’shappeningtome.Ican’tstopkissinghim.He’stooaddictive.Andeventhoughthismighthavestartedwithmesomewhatincharge,I’mnolongerincontrol.
Garrett’smouthmovesoverminewithskillandconfidencethatstealsthebreathfrommylungs.Whenhenibblesonmybottomlip,Ifeelanansweringtuginmynipples,andpressonepalmtohischesttogroundmyself,totrytokeepfromfloatingawayinamindlesscloudofpleasure.Hishotlipsleavemineandtravelalongmyjawline,dippingdowntomyneck,whereheplantsopen-mouthedkissesthatleaveshiversintheirwake.
Ihearatorturedwhimper,andI’mstartledtorealizeitcamefromme.I’mdesperatetofeelhismouthonmineagain.IthrustonehandinhishairtobringhimbacktowhereIwanthim,butthedarkstrandsaretooshorttograbonto.AllIcandoispullhisheadforward,whichsummonsalowchucklefromhim.
“Isthiswhatyouwant?”herasps,andthenhislipsfindmine,andhethruststhattalentedtongueintomymouthagain.
Amoanleavesmythroatattheexactmomentthebedroomdoorswingsopen.
“Hey,G,Ineedtoborrowa—”
Deangrindstoahalt.
Withasqueakofhorror,ItearmymouthawayfromGarrett’sandshoottomyfeet.
“Oops.Didn’tmeantointerrupt.”Dean’sgrintakesuphisentireface,andhistwinklinggreeneyesmakemycheeksscorch.
Isnapbacktorealityfasterthanyoucansaybiggestmistakeever.Holyshit.I’vejustbeencaughtmakingoutwithGarrettGraham.
AndIwasenjoyingit.
“You’renotinterrupting,”Iblurtout.
Deanlookslikehe’sfightingbacklaughter.“No?Becauseitsureseemslikeit.”
Despitethetightknotofembarrassmentlodgedinmythroat,IforcemyselftoglanceatGarrett,silentlypleadingforbackup,buthisexpressioncatchesmeoffguard.Deepintensityandaflashofannoyance,butthelatterisdirectedatDean.Andthrownintothemixissomethingakintofascination,asifhecan’tbelievewhatheandIjustdid.
Ican’tbelieveiteither.
“Sothisiswhatyoutwodowhenyou’reuphere,”Deandrawls.“Allthatdeep,intensivetutoring.”Heair-quotesthelastword,chucklingindelight.
Histeasingirksme.Idon’twanthimthinkingthatGarrettandIare…involved.Thatwe’vebeenfoolingaroundforthepastweekbehindeveryone’sbacks.
WhichmeansIhavetoniphissuspicionsinthebud.ASAP.
“Actually,Garrett’sjusthelpingmebrushuponmymake-outskills,”ItellDeaninthemostcasualvoiceIcanmuster.Atthispoint,tellingthetruthisfarlesshumiliatingthanlettinghisimaginationrunwild,buttheconfessionsoundsinsanewhenIutteritoutloud.Yep,justhoningmykissingskillswiththecaptainofthehockeyteam.Nobiggie.
Deansnickers.“’Thatso?”
“Yes,”Isayfirmly.“IhaveadatecomingupandyourfriendherethinksIdon’thaveanymoves.Trustme,we’renotintoeachother.Atall.”IrealizethatGarrettstillhasn’tsaidasingleword,andIturntohimforconfirmation.“Right,Garrett?”Iaskpointedly.
Heclearshisthroat,buthisvoiceisstillgravellyashellwhenhespeaks.“Right.”
“Okay…”Dean’seyesgleam.“ThenI’mcallingyourbluff,babydoll.Showmeyourmoves.”
Iblinkinsurprise.“What?”
“Ifadoctortoldyouyou’vegottendaystolive,you’dgoforasecondopinion,wouldn’tyou?Well,ifyou’reworriedaboutbeingacrappykisser,youcan’tjusttakeG’swordforit.Youneedasecondopinion.”Hisbrowsliftinchallenge.“Letmeseewhatyou’vegot.”
“Stopbeingajackass,”Garrettmutters.
“No,hehasapoint,”Ianswerawkwardly,andmybrainscreams,What?
Hehasapoint?ApparentlyGarrett’sbody-meltingkisseshaveturnedmeintoacrazyperson.I’mshakenupandconfused,andmostofall,I’mworried.WorriedthatGarrettwillknowI…what?ThatI’dneverbeensoturnedonfromakissbefore?ThatIlovedeverysecondofit?
Yes,andyes.That’spreciselywhatIdon’twanthimtoknow.
SoIsaunterovertoDeanandsay,“Givemeasecondopinion.”
Heseemsstartledforasecond,beforebreakingoutinanothergrin.Herubshishandstogether,thencrackshisknucklesasifhe’spreparingforafight,andtheridiculousgesturemakesmelaugh
WhenIreachhim,hisbravadofalters.“Iwasjustkidding,Wellsy.Youdon’thaveto—”
Icuthimoffbyleaningonmytiptoesandpressingmymouthtohis.
Yep,that’sme,justanothercollegecoedkissingoneguyaftertheother.
Thistime,there’snoheat.Notingles.Nosenseofoverpoweringdesperation.KissingDeanisnothingcomparedtothewayitfeltkissingGarrett,butDeanseemstoenjoyit,becauseheletsoutagroanwhenIpartmylips.Histongueentersmymouth,andIletit.Onlyforafewseconds,andthenIstepbackandputonmymostnonchalantface.
“Well?”Iprompt.
Hiseyesarecompletelyglazedover.“Uh.”Heclearshisthroat.“Uh…yeah…Idon’tthinkyouhaveanythingtoworryabout.”
HelookssostunnedthatIcan’thelpbutsmile,butmyhumordissolveswhenIturntoseeGarrettrisingfromthebed,hischiseledfacedarkerthanathundercloud.
“Hannah,”hestartsroughly.
ButIcan’tlistentotherest.Idon’twanttothinkaboutthatkissanymore.Orever.Themerememoryofitmakesmyheadspinandmyheartpound.
“Goodluckonthemakeuptomorrow.”Thewordsrushoutinafaststreamofnervousness.“I’vegottatakeoffnow,butletmeknowhowitgoes,’kay?”
ThenIquicklygatherupmythingsandhurryoutoftheroom.17
HANNAH
“Youlostabet,”Alliesaysdubiously.
“Yep.”Isitattheedgeofthebedandleanovertozipupmyleftboot,deliberatelyavoidingmyroommate’sgaze.
“Andnowyou’regoingoutwithhim.”
“Uh-huh.”IrubmythumboverthesideofthebootandpretendI’mwipingawayasmudgeontheleather.
“You’regoingoutwithGarrettGraham.”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
“Icallshenanigans.”
Ofcourseshedoes.AdatewithGarrettGraham?ImightaswellhaveannouncedI’mmarryingChrisHemsworth.
Sono,Idon’tblameAllieforlookingsoflabbergasted.TheIlostabetexcusewasthebestoneI’dbeenabletocomeupwith,andit’sfeebleatbest.NowI’mwonderingifIshouldjustfessupandtellheraboutJustin.
Orbetteryet,ifIshouldcancelthedatealtogether.
Ihaven’tseenGarrettsince…thebigmistake…asI’mnowreferringtothekiss.Hetextedmeyesterdayafterhewrotethemakeupexam.Fourmeaslywords,twoofwhicharen’tevenreal:“easypeasylemonsqueezy.”
Iwon’tlie,Iwasthrilledtohearithadgonewell.Butnotthrilledenoughtoinitiateanactualconversation,soIsimplysentbackoneword—“nice”—andthatwastheonlycontactwehadupuntiltwentyminutesago,whenhemessagedtosayhewasonhiswaytopickmeupfortheparty.
AsfarasI’mconcerned,thekissdidn’thappen.Ourlipsdidn’ttouch,andmybodydidn’tache.Hedidn’tgroanwhenmytonguefilledhismouth,andIdidn’twhimperwhenhislipslatchedontothatsensitivespotonmyneck.
Itdidn’thappen.
But…well,ifitdidn’thappen,thenthere’snoreasonformetobailontheparty,nowisthere?Becausenomatterhowconfusedandstrickentheki—thebigmistakehadleftme,I’mstilleagerforachancetoseeJustinoutsideofclass.
Ican’tbringmyselftotellAlliethetruth,though.I’musuallysoconfidentinotherareasofmylife.Singing,schoolwork,friends.Whenitcomestorelationships,Irevertbacktothattraumatizedfifteen-year-oldwhorequiredthreeyearsoftherapybeforeshewasabletofeelnormalagain.IknowAlliewoulddisapproveifsheknewIwasusingGarretttogettoJustin,andrightnow,I’mnotinthemoodtobelectured.
“Trustme,shenanigansareGarrett’smiddlename,”Isaydryly.“Theguytreatslifelikeagame.”
“Andyou,HannahWells,areplayingalong?”Sheshakesherhead,incredulous.“Areyousureyoudon’thaveathingforthisguy?”
“Garrett?Noway,”Isayimmediately.
Uh-huh.Becauseyoualwaaaaaaysmakeoutwithguysyoudon’tlike.
Ibanishtheinternaltaunt.Nope,Ididn’tmakeoutwithGarrett.Iwassimplymeetingachallenge.
Themockingvoicerearsitsheadagain.Andyoufeltabsolutelynothing,right?
Argh,whyisn’tthereanoffswitchforthatsarcasticpartofyourbrain?ExceptIknowthatdoingthatwon’terasethetruth.Ididfeelsomethingwhenwekissed.ThosetinglesthatJustinevokesinme?IfeltthemtheothernightwithGarrett.Theyweredifferent,though.Thebutterfliesdidn’tjustfloataroundinmybelly—theytookflightandracedthroughmyentirebody,makingeveryinchofmepulsewithpleasure.
Butitmeantnothing.Inthespanoftendays,Garrettwentfrombeingastrangertoanuisancetoafriend,butthat’sasfarasI’mwillingtotakeit.Idon’twanttodatehim,nomatterhowgoodakisserheis.
BeforeAlliecangrillmefurther,Garretttextstoinformmehe’shere.I’mabouttotellhimtowaitinthecar,butIguesswehavedifferentdefinitionsofhere,becausealoudknocksoundsonthedoorasecondlater.
Isigh.“That’sGarrett.Canyoulethimin?Ijustwanttoputmyhairup.”
Alliegrinsanddisappears.AsIrunabrushthroughmyhair,Ihearvoicesinthelivingarea,followedbyasqueakyprotestandthenheavyfootstepsheadingtomybedroom.
Garrettappearsinthedoorwaywearingdarkbluejeansandablacksweater,andsomethingterriblehappens.Myheartturnsintoadolphinanddoesastupidlittleflipofexcitement.
Excitement,forfuck’ssake.
God,thatki—mistakereallymessedwithmyhead.
Hescrutinizesmyclothesbeforeraisingoneeyebrow.“Isthatwhatyou’rewearing?”
“Yes.”Ibristle.“Gotaproblemwiththat?”
Hetiltshisheadtothesidelikehe’sanagentsizingupanaspiringmodel.“I’mtotallydiggingthejeansandboots,buttheshirthasgottago.”
Iexaminemylooseblue-and-whitestripedsweaterbutIhonestlydon’tseetheissue.“What’swrongwithit?”
“It’stoobaggy.Ithoughtwetalkedabouthowyouneedtoshowoffyourstrippertits.”
Astrangledcoughcomesfrombehindhim.“Strippertits?”Allieechoesasshestepsintotheroom.
“Ignorehim,”Itellher.“He’sachauvinist.”
“No,I’maguy,”hecorrects,thenproceedstoflashhistrademarkgrin.“Iwanttoseesomecleavage.”
“Ilikethissweater,”Iprotest.
GarrettglancesatAllie.“Hi,I’mGarrett.What’syournameagain?”
“Allie.Hannah’sroommateandBFF.”
“Great.Well,canyoutellyourroomieandBFFthatshelookslikearejectfromasailingshow?”
Shelaughs,andthen,tomyhorror—BenedictArnold!—sheagreeswithhim.“Itwouldn’thurttowearsomethingmoreform-fitting,”shesaystactfully.
Iscowlather.
Garrettbeams.“See?We’reallinagreement.Gobigorgohome,Wellsy.”
AllielooksfrommetoGarrett,andIknowexactlywhatshe’sthinking.Butshe’swrong.We’renotintoeachother,andwe’recertainlynotdating.ButIsupposeit’sbettershethinkthatthanknowI’mgoingoutwithhimtoimpresssomeoneelse.
Garrettstridestomyclosetlikeheownsit.Whenhepokeshisdarkheadinside,Allieshootsmeagrin.Sheseemshighlyentertainedbyallthis.
Heflipsthroughthehangerstoexaminemywardrobe,thenpullsoutasheerblacktop.“Howaboutthis?”
“Noway.It’ssee-through.”
“Thenwhydoyouownit?”
Goodquestion.
Heholdsupanotherhanger,thistimearedsweaterwithagapingV-neck.“Thisone,”hesayswithanod.“Youlookgreatinred.”
Allie’seyebrowshittheceiling,andIcurseGarrettforputtingalltheseunnecessaryideasinherhead.Butatthesametime,mychestgoeswarmandgooey,because…hethinksIlookgreatinred?Asin,he’sactuallynoticedwhatI’veworninthepast?
Garretttossesmetheshirt.“Okay,getchanged.Wewanttobefashionablylate,notassholelate.”
Alliesnickers.
Iglareatthemboth.“CanIpleasehavesomeprivacy?”
They’reeitheroblivioustomyannoyanceorthey’rechoosingtoignoreit,becauseIhearthemchattingeasilyinthelivingroom.IsuspectAllieisgrillinghimaboutour“date,”andIhopetoGodthatGarrettstickstothebetstory.Whenhishuskylaughterfloatsintomybedroom,aninvoluntaryshiverskittersupmyspine.
Whatishappeningtome?I’mlosingsightofwhatIwant.No,ofwhoIwant.Justin.Justinfrickin’Kohl.Ishouldn’tbekissingGarrett—orDean,forthatmatter—andgettingdistractedbythestrangerushofheatheunleashesinsideme.
It’stimetogetmyheadonstraightandrememberwhyIagreedtothischaradeinthefirstplace.
Startingrightnow.
GARRETT
BeauMaxwelllivesoffcampuswithfourofhisteammates.Theirhouseisonlyafewblocksfrommine,butahelluvalotbigger,andit’spackedlikeahockeyarenaongamenightwhenHannahandIwalkinside.Deafeninghip-hopblastsfromthespeakersystem,andseveralwarm,sweatybodiesjostleusasweventuredeeperintothehouse.AllIcansmellisalcohol,sweat,andcologne.
IpatmyselfonthebackforconvincingHannahtowearthatredtop,becauseholyfuckinghell,itlooksamazingonher.Thematerialissothinitoutlineseverysweetcurveofherchest,andthatneckline…SweetJesus.Hertitsarepracticallypouringoutofit,likethey’retryingtopopoutandsayhello.Idon’tknowifshe’swearingapushupbraorifherbreastsarereallythatbig,buteitherway,they’rebouncinglikecrazywitheverystepshetakes.
Severalpeoplewanderovertosayhellotomeandthere’sashittonofcuriousstaresinHannah’sdirection.Shefidgetsatmyside,clearlyfeelingoutofplace.MychestgoessofterthanbutterwhenIglimpsethedeer-in-the-headlightslookinhereyes.
Ireachforherhand,whichpromptshergazetoflyuptomineinsurprise.
Bringingmylipsclosetoherear,Imurmur,“Relax.”
Leaninginisabigmistake,becauseshesmellsfantastic.Thatsweet,familiarcherryfragrancemingleswiththefainthintoflavenderandsomethinguniquelyfeminine.Ittakesaseriousamountofwillpowernottopressmynoseintoherneckandinhaleher.Ortasteherwithmytongue.Lickandkissthehotfleshofherthroatuntilshemoans.
Ohman.I’minbigtrouble.Ihaven’tbeenabletostopthinkingaboutthatkiss.Everytimethememoryfloatsintomyhead,mypulseracesandmyballstighten,andallIwanttodoiskissthecrapoutofheragain.
Theoverpoweringlust,however,isaccompaniedbyasenseofcrushingrejection.Because,clearly,Iwastheonlyoneaffectedbythatdamnkiss.IfHannahhadfeltsomething,evenintheslightest,shewouldn’thavestuckhertonguedownDean’sthroattwosecondslater.Dean.Oneofmybestfriends.
Butshe’snotherewithDeantonight,nowisshe?Nope,she’smydate,andwe’reheretomakeanotherguyjealous—whycan’tIgiveintotemptation?ThismightbetheonlychanceIget.
SoIplantasoftkissonthesideofherthroatbeforewhispering,“You’regonnabethecenterofattentiontonight,babe.Smileandpretendyou’reenjoyingit.”
Istealanotherkiss,thistimeonthecornerofherjaw,andshesucksinabreath.Hereyeswiden,andeitherI’mimaginingit,orthere’saglimmerofheatthere.
BeforeIcaninterpretwhatI’mseeing,oneofthelinebackersinterruptsus.“Graham!Yo,goodtoseeyou,man!”OllieJankowitzlumbersoverandslapsmyback,andthecontactjarsmyentirebodybecausethedudeismonster-sized.
“Hey,Ollie,”IsaybeforenoddingatHannah.“DoyouknowHannah?”
Hewearsablanklookforasecond.Thenhiseyesdiptoherchest,andaslowsmilestretchesacrosshisbeardedface.“Idonow.”Hesticksoutonemeatypaw.“Hey,I’mOliver.”
Sheawkwardlyshakeshishand.“Hi.It’snicetomeetyou.”
“Gotanythingtodrinkinthisplace?”IaskOllie.
“Kegsareinthekitchen.Lotsofotherpartyfavorsfloatingaround,too.”
“Nice.Thanks,man.I’llcatchupwithyouinabit.”
IlacemyfingersthroughHannah’sandleadhertothekitchen,whichispackedwithdrunkenfratbrothers.Ihaven’tspottedBeauyet,butIknowwe’llrunintohimeventually.
I’mnottoothrilledattheprospectofseeingKohl,though.
Igrabtwoplasticcupsfromthestackonthegranitecounterandmakemywaytooneofthekegs.Thefratboysprotest,butwhentheynoticewho’spushingthemaside,theypartformeliketheRedfuckingSea.JustanotherperkofbeingthecaptainofBriar’sreveredhockeyteam.Ipourtwobeers,thenduckawayfromthecrowdandholdacupouttoHannah,whoadamantlyshakesherhead.
“It’saparty,Wellsy.Won’tkillyoutohaveonemeaslybeer.”
“No,”shesaysfirmly.
Ishrugandtakeasipofthewateryalcohol.Thebeerischeapasfuck,butthat’sprobablyagoodthing.Meansthere’snochanceofmegettingwastedoffthisshit,notunlessIdrinkawholekegtomyself
Asthekitchenemptiesout,Hannahleansagainstthecounterandsighs.“Ihateparties,”shesaysglumly.
“Maybethat’sbecauseyourefusetodrink,”Itease.
“Goaheadandbringontheprudejokes.Idon’tmind.”
“Iknowyou’renotaprude.”Iwagmyeyebrows.“Aprudedoesn’tkissthewayyoudo.”
Hercheeksredden.“Whatthehelldoesthatmean?”
“Itmeansyou’vegotasexytongueandyouknowhowtouseit.”Ahshit,wrongthingtosay.BecausenowI’mhard.Luckily,myjeansaretightenoughtokeepmyerectionfromtentinglikeanasshole.
“SometimesIthinkyousaythingsjusttomakemeblush,”Hannahaccuses.
“Nope.I’mjustbeinghonest.”Aswellofvoiceswaftspastthekitchen,andIfindmyselfprayingthatnobodywalksin.IlikebeingalonewithHannah.
Andeventhoughthere’snoreasontoputonashowwhenwe’realone,IstillmovecloserandslingonearmaroundhershoulderasItakeanothersipofwater-beer.
“Inallseriousness,whyareyousoanti-drinking?”Iaskgruffly.
“I’mnotanti-drinking.”Shepauses.“Iactuallykindoflikeit.Inmoderation,ofcourse.”
“Ofcourse,”Iecho,rollingmyeyesbeforereachingforthesecondcupIleftonthecounter.“Wouldyouhaveabeeralready?”
“No.”
Ihavetolaugh.“Youjustsaidyoulikedit.”
“Idon’tminddrinkinginmyroomwithAllie,butIneverdoitatparties.”
“Ohjeez.Soyousitathomelikeawinowhenyoudrink?”
“No.”Shelooksexasperated.“Just…dropit,willyou?”
“DoIeverdropanything?”
Herexasperationturnstodefeat.“Look,Igetparanoidaboutwhatmightbeinmycup,allright?”
Insultpricklesmyskin.“Forfuck’ssake,youthinkI’droofieyou?”
“No,ofcoursenot.”
Herswiftresponseeasesmyconcerns,butwhensheadds,“Notyou,anyway,”ittriggersmysuspicion.
“Did…”Ifrowndeeply.“Didthathappentoyou?”
Hannah’sfacegoesstrickenforabeat,andthensheslowlyshakesherhead.“Ithappenedtoafriendofmineinhighschool.Shewasdrugged.”
Myjawfallsopen.“Seriously?”
Shenods.“SomeoneslippedherGHBataparty…and,um…let’sjustsayitwasn’tagoodnightforher,okay?”
“Ohshit.That’sallkindsoffuckedup.Wassheokay?”
Hannahlookssad.“Yeah.Shewasfine.”Shegivesanawkwardshrug.“Butitmademedistrustfulaboutdrinkinginpublic.EvenifIpourthedrinkmyself…whoknowswhatwillhappenifIturnaway,evenforasecond.Irefusetotakethatchance.”
Myvoicethickens.“YouknowI’dneverletthathappentoyou,right?”
“Um,yeah.Sure,Ido.”Butshedoesn’tsoundfullyconvinced,andIcan’tbringmyselftobeoffendedaboutitbecauseIsuspectherfriend’sexperiencereallyscrewedwithHannah’shead.Andwithgoodreason.
I’veheardhorrorstorieslikethatbefore.AsfarasIknow,ithasn’thappenedatBriar,butIknowitgoesonatothercolleges.GirlsunwittinglyingestingEorRohypnol,orgettingshit-facedoutoftheirmindswhileimmoralcreepstakeadvantageoftheminthatstate.Ihonestlydon’tunderstandguyswhowoulddothattoawoman.AsfarasI’mconcerned,theyshouldallbebehindbars.
ButnowthatIknowthereasonbehindherno-drinkingrule,IquitbuggingHannahabouthavingabeer,andweheadbacktothemainroom.Hannah’seyesscanthecrowd,andIinstantlystiffenbecauseIknowshe’slookingforKohl
Fortunately,he’snowheretobeseen.
Wemingleforawhile.EverytimeIintroducehertosomeone,theylooksurprised,asiftheycan’tunderstandwhyI’mwithherandnotsomeditzysororitygirl.AndmorethanoneguyoglesHannah’sbreastsbeforewinkingatmeasiftosaygoodjob
Iofficiallytakebackmyearlierclaim—IwishIhadn’tconvincedhertowearthattop.Forsomereason,theappreciativestaresshe’sreceivingreallypissmeoff.ButIswallowthepossessivecavemanurgesandtrytoenjoytheparty.Thecrowdismorefootballthanhockey,butIstillknowalmosteveryonethere,whichcausesHannahtomutter,“Jeez.Howdoyouknowallthesepeople?”
Ismirkather.“ItoldyouI’mpopular.Hey,there’sBeau.Comeon,let’sgooverandsayhi.”
BeauMaxwellisthetypicalcollegequarterback.He’sgotitall—thelooks,theswagger,andmostimportant,thetalent.Butalthoughanyoneelseinhispositionmightthinkit’stheirrighttobeatotaldouchebag,Beau’sactuallykindadecent.He’sahistorymajorlikeme,andhelooksgenuinelyhappytoseemetonight.
“G,youmadeit!Here,trythis.”Heholdsoutabottleof…something.Thebottleisblackandhasnolabel,soIhavenocluewhathe’soffering.
“Whatisit?”Iaskwithagrin.
Beaugrinsback.“MoonshinecourtesyofBigJoe’ssister.Thisshitispotent.”
“Yeah?Thengetitthehellawayfromme.I’vegotagametomorrowafternoon.Can’tshowupwithamoonshinehangover.”
“Fairenough.”HebatshisbabybluesatHannah.“Youwantsome,honey?”
“No,thanks.”
“Beau,Hannah.Hannah,Beau,”Iintroduce.
“Whydoyoulooksofamiliar?”Beaudemands,lookingherupanddown.“WheredoIknowyoufr—ohshit,Iknow.Isawyousinginthespringshowcaselastyear.”
“Really?Youwerethere?”
Hannahsoundssimultaneouslysurprisedandpleased,andIwonderifmaybeI’vebeenlivingonadifferentplanetorsomeshit,becausehowamItheonlyonewhodoesn’tknowabouttheseshowcases?
“DamnstraightIwasthere,”Beaudeclares.“Andyouwereawesome.Yousang…whatwasitagain?‘StandByMe,’Ithink?”
Shenods.
IwrinklemyforeheadasIglanceather.“Ithoughtyouwereonlyallowedtosingoriginals.”
“That’sasenior-levelrequirement,”sheexplains.“Freshmenandsophomorescansingwhatevertheywantbecausethey’renotintherunningforthescholarships.”
“Yeah,mysisterhadtosinganoriginal,”Beautellsus.“Shewasintheseniorgroup.JoannaMaxwell?Doyouknowher?”
Hannahgasps.“Joanna’syoursister?IheardshelandedapartonBroadwaythissummer.”
“Shedid!”Beaubeamswithpride.“MybigsisisaBroadwaystar.How’boutthat?”
We’redrawingevenmorestaresnowthatwe’rechattingwiththebirthdayboy,butHannahseemsoblivioustoit.I,ontheotherhand,amannoyinglyawareoftheattention—fromonepersoninparticular.Kohlhasjustenteredthelivingroom,andhislipspinchwhenourgazesmeet.Inodinhello,thenturnmyheadandverydeliberatelyplantakissonHannah’scheek.
Herheadjerksupinsurprise,soIjustifytherandomgesturebysaying,“I’llberightback.Goingtograbanotherbeer.”
“Okay.”SheinstantlyturnsbacktoBeauandtheycontinuechattingabouthissister.
I’mnotsensinganyromanticinterestonherpart,though,whichbringsanoddpangofrelief.Therealthreatisacrosstheroom,andhemarchespurposefullyinourdirectionthesecondIstepawayfromHannahandBeau.
IinterceptJustinbeforehecanreachthechattingduo,givinghimacasualslaponthearm.“Kohl.Greatparty,huh?”
Hisnodisabsent-minded,hisgazestillfocusedbeyondmyshoulderatHannah.Fuck.Canheactuallybeinterestedinher?Ifiguredthisbigcharadeofourswouldn’tresultinanythingIneededtoworryabout,butevidentlymyplanisworkingtoowell.KohlonlyhaseyesforHannah,andIdon’tlikeit.Notonebit.
Iglanceathisemptyhandsandgrin.“Comeon,let’sgetyouadrink.”
“Naah,I’mgood.”He’salreadybrushingpastme,headingrightwhereIdon’twanthimtogo.
ThemomentHannahnoticesJustin,hercheeksturnpinkandastartledlookcrosseshereyes,butsherecoversquicklyandgreetshimwithahesitantsmile.
Ohhellno.Mybacksnapsstraighterthanahockeystick.IwanttostalkoverthereandyankherawayfromKohl.Orbetteryet,yankherrightintomyarmsandkissthelivingdaylightsoutofher.
Idoneither—becausethistimeI’mtheonebeingintercepted.
Kendallappearsinmypath,herlongblondhairbraidedoveroneshoulder,thetailendofitdanglinginhercleavage.She’sdressedtotheninesinateenyreddressandimpossiblyhighheels,butherexpressionisstormyasfuck.
“Hi,”shesaystightly
“Hey.”Iclearmythroat.“How’sitgoing?”
Herlipsflattenindispleasure.“Seriously?You’reonadateandthat’swhatyousaytome?”
Shit.HalfmyattentionremainsonHannah,whoisnowlaughingatsomethingKohlsaid.ThankfullyBeauisstilltheretoserveasabuffer,butI’mnothappytoseeherandJustinlookingsochummy.
TherestofmyattentionisonKendall,whoI’msuddenlyafraidmightmakeascene.
“Yousaidyoudidn’twantagirlfriend,”shehissesout.
“Idon’t,”I’mquicktoreply.
She’ssopissedshe’sactuallytrembling.“Thenhowdoyouexplainher?”OnemanicuredfingerliftsinHannah’sdirection.
Great.Well,nowI’mscrewed.Ican’tinsistthatit’snotadate,becauseKohlissupposedtothinkitis.ButifIsayitisadate,Kendallmightverywellslapme
Ilowermyvoice.“She’snotmygirlfriend.It’sadate,yeah,butit’snotaseriousthing,okay?”
“No,notokay.I’mreallyintoyou!Andifyou’renotintome,thenfine.Butatleasthavethedecencyto—”
“Why?”I’munabletostopthequestionthathadbittenatmytonguelastweekwhensheandIcalleditquits.
Kendallblinksinconfusion.“Whywhat?”
“Whyareyouintome?”
Shescowlsatme,asifshe’sgenuinelyinsultedthatIwouldaskthat.
“Youdon’tevenknowme,”Isaysoftly.“Youhaven’ttriedtogettoknowme.”
“That’snottrue,”sheobjects,herscowldissolvingintoaworriedfrown.
Iletoutatroubledbreath.“We’veneverevenhadarealconversation,Kendall,andwe’veseeneachotherdozensoftimessincethesummer.Youhaven’taskedmeasinglequestionaboutmychildhood,ormyfamily,ormyclasses.Myteammates,myinterests—hell,youdon’tevenknowmyfavoritecolor,andthat’sthekindofthingyoufindoutinGettingtoKnowYou101.”
“Yes,Ido,”sheinsists.
Isighagain.“Yeah?Whatisitthen?”
Shehesitatesforabeat,thensays,“Blue.”
“Actually,it’sblack,”anothervoicepipesup,andthenHannahappearsatmyside,andI’msofuckingrelievedthatIalmostgiveherabearhug.
“Sorrytointerrupt,”shechirps,“but…dude,where’sourbeer?Didyougetlostonyourwaytothekitchenorsomething?”
“Igotsidetracked.”
HannahglancesatKendall.“Hi.I’mHannah.Sorry,butIneedtostealhimawayforasecond.Thirstcalls.”
ThefactthatKendalldoesn’tobjecttellsmethatmypointhashithome,andKendall’sexpressionisamixtureofshameandguiltasHannahtakesmyarmanddragsmeintothehallway.
Oncewe’reoutofsight,Ilowermyvoiceandsay,“Thanksforthesave.Shewaseitherabouttoburstintotears,orkickmeintheballs.”
“I’msurethelatterwould’vebeenwell-deserved,”Hannahreplieswithasigh.“Letmeguess—youbrokeherheart.”
“No.”Annoyancerisesinmythroat.“Butitturnsoutouramicablepartingwasn’tasamicableasIthoughtitwas.”
“Ah.Isee.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Somyfavoritecolorisblack,huh?Whatmakesyouthinkthat?”
“Becauseeveryfrickin’shirtyouownisblack.”Sheshootsapointedlookatmysweater.
“Maybethat’sbecauseblackgoeswitheverything—didyoueverthinkaboutthat?”Ismirk.“Doesn’tmeanit’smyfavoritecolor.”
“Fine,I’llbite.What’syourfavoritecolorthen?”
Iletoutasigh.“It’sblack.”
“Ha!Iknewit.”Hannahsighs,too.“So,what,dowehavetohideinthehallfortherestofthenightnowtoavoidthatgirl?”
“Yup.Unlessyouwanttotakeoff?”Isayhopefully.I’velostallenthusiasmforthisparty,especiallynowthatKohlhasarrived.Beforeshecananswer,Istrengthenmycasebyadding,“Kohltookthebait,bytheway.Soifwetakeoffnow,you’llleavehimwantingmore,whichwastheplan,right?”
Hesitationdigsalineintoherforehead.“Yeah,Iguess.But…”
“Butwhat?”
“Iwasenjoyingtalkingtohim.”
Damnedifthatdoesn’tfeellikeaknifetotheheart.Butwhy?I’mnotinterestedinHannah.OratleastIhadn’tbeenbefore.AllI’dwantedwashertutoringservices,butnow…nowIdon’tknowwhatIwant.
“Whatdidyouguystalkabout?”Iask,andhopeshedoesn’theartheedgeinmyvoice.
Hannahshrugs.“Class.Football.Theshowcase.HeaskedmeifIwanttohavecoffeesometimeandstudyforEthicstogether.”
Uh,what?
“Areyoushittingme?”Iburstout.“He’smackingonmydaterightinfrontofme?”
Amusementdancesinhereyes.“We’renotactuallytogether,Garrett.”
“Hedoesn’tknowthat.”Ican’tcontroltheangersimmeringinmygut.“Youdon’thitonanotherman’sdate.Period.That’sadickmove.”
Afrowntouchesherlips.
Ieyeher.“Wouldyouwanttogooutwithaguywhodoessomethingthatshady?”
“No,”sheadmitsafteralongbeat.“But…”Sheappearstobethinkingitover.“Therewasn’tanythingovertlysexualabouttheinvitation.Ifhewashittingonme,hewould’veaskedmetodinner.Coffeeandstudyingcanbeconstruedasafriendthing.”
Shecouldberight,butIknowhowguysthink.Thatsonofabitchwashittingonherinplainsightoftheguyshecametothepartywith.
Dick.Move.
“Garrett…”Hervoicebecomeswary.“Youknowthatkissdidn’tmeananything,right?”
Thequestioncatchesmeoffguard.“Uh.Yeah.OfcourseIknowthat.”
“Becausewe’rejustfriends…right?”
Thepointednoteinhertoneirks,butIknownowisnotthetimetoargueaboutthis.Whateverthisis.
SoInodandsay,“Right.”
Relieffloatsthroughhereyes.“Good.Okay,well,maybeweshouldgo.Ithinkwe’vedoneenoughmingling.”
“Sure.Whateveryouwant.”
“Let’sjustsaybyetoBeaufirst.Youknow,Ireallylikethatguy.He’snotatallwhatIexpected…”
Shecontinuestochattermyearoffaswegobacktothelivingroom,butIdon’thearasingleword.I’mtoobusydealingwiththetruthbombthat’sjustbeendroppedonmyhead.
Yes,HannahandIarefriends.Infact,she’stheonlyfemalefriendI’veeverhad.Andyes,IwanttokeepbeingHannah’sfriend.
But…
Ialsowanttosleepwithher.18
HANNAH
I’vebeenneglectingmyfriendssinceIstartedtutoringGarrett,butnowthathe’swrittenthemidterm,myfreetimebelongstomeagain.SothenightafterBeauMaxwell’sparty,Imeetupwiththeusualsuspectsatthecampuscoffeehouse,excitedtoreconnectwitheveryone.Andit’sobvioustheymissedmejustashard.
“Han-Han!”Dexterjumpsoutofhischairandpullsmeintoabearhug.AndwhenIsaybearhug,Imeanit,becauseDexisagiantofaguy.Ialwaysteasehimthathelookslikeheshouldbeplayinglinebackerforthefootballteam,butDexdoesn’thaveanathleticboneinhisbody.He’samusicmajorlikeme,andtrustme,thedudecansing
Meganisthenextonetogreetme,andasusual,asmartassremarkpopsoutofhersmartassmouth.“Wereyouabductedbyaliens?”shedemandsevenasshehugsmesotightlyIcanhardlybreathe.“Ihopetheanswertothatisyesandthattheyanal-probedyoufortenhoursstraight,becauseyoudeserveitforignoringmeformorethanaweek.”
Ilaughatthevividpictureshe’spainted.“Iknow.I’matotalshit.ButIhadatutoringgigthisweekandit’skeptmebusy.”
“Oh,weallknowwho’sbeenkeepingyoubusy,”StellapipesupfromherseatnexttoDex.“GarrettGraham,Han?Really?”
Istifleasigh.“Whotoldyou?Allie?”
Stellarollshereyesinthemosttheatricalfashion.Ithinkit’sadramastudentthing—it’sliketheycan’tsayasolitarywordormakeasinglegesturewithouthammingitup.“Ofcourseshedid.Unlikeyou,Alliedoesn’tkeepanysecretsfromus.”
“Oh,shutit.I’vejustbeenbusywithtutoringandrehearsal.AndwhateverAlliesaidaboutGarrett,it’snottrue.”IunzipmywintercoatanddrapeitovertheemptychairbesideMeg’s.“I’mhelpinghimpassEthics.That’sall.”
Meg’sboyfriendJeremywiggleshiseyebrowsatmeovertherimofhiscoffeemug.“Youknowthismakesyoutheenemynow,right?”
“Aw,comeon,”Iprotest.“That’sjustmean.”
“Saysthetraitor,”teasesMeg.“Howdareyoufraternizewithameathead?How.Dare.You.”
Icanseefromtheirplayfulexpressionsthatit’sallingoodfun.OratleastitisbeforeGarretttextsme.
Myphonemeows,andIgrinthesecondIpullitoutofmypurse.
Garrett:Utotallyshould’vecometothepost-gamepartytonite.SomechickjustdumpedapitcherofbeeroverDean’shead
Isnortoutloudandshootbackaquicktext,becauseIhavetoknowmore.
Me:OMG.Why?(thoI’msurehedeservedit).
Him:Guessheforgottotellhertheyweren’texclusive.
Me:Ofcourse.Men.
Him:Men…finishthatsentence…Menareawesome?Thanks,baby.Iacceptthisawardonbehalfofallofus.
Me:Theawardforbiggestdouchebag?Yeah,you’retheperfectspokesman.
Him:Awwww.I’mhurt.I’mnotaDB
ThenotionthatImighthavehurthisfeelingscausesguilttotricklethroughme
Me:You’reright.You’renot.I’msorry.
Him:Ha.You’rethebiggestsoftieontheplanet.Iwasn’thurtatall
Me:Good,becausetheapologywasforshow
“HannahWells,pleasereporttotheprincipal’soffice!”
Myheadjerksup,andIdiscoverallfourofmyfriendsgrinningatmeagain.
Dex,who’dvoicedtheboomingcommand,addressesthegroup.“Oh,look,she’spayingattentiontous.”
“Sorry,”Isayguiltily.“Iwillofficiallyputmyphoneawayforthedurationofthisget-together.”
“Hey,you’llneverguesswhowesawatFerro’slastnight,”Megsays,referringtotheItalianrestaurantintown.
“Herewego,”herboyfriendsighs.“Can’tyougofivesecondswithoutgossiping,babe?”
“Nope.”Sheflasheshimajovialsmilebeforeturningtome.“CassandMaryJane,”sheannounces.“Theywereonadate.”
“Didyouknowtheyweretogether?”Stellademands.
“Iknowheaskedherout,”Iadmit.“ButIwashopingshe’dbesmartenoughtosayno.”
ButI’mnotsurprisedtohearthatMJhaddonetheopposite.AndnowI’mcertainlynotlookingforwardtoMonday’srehearsal,becauseifCassandMJarea“couple”now?I’llneverwinanargumentaboutthedueteveragain.
“Isthatass-hatstillcausingtroubleatrehearsals?”Dexaskswithafrown.
“Yup.It’slikehe’smadeithismissioninlifetopissmeoff.Butwedon’trehearseontheweekends,soIhaveareprievefromhisbullshituntilMonday.How’syourpiecegoing?”
Dex’sexpressionturnsserious.“It’sgreat,actually.Jon’sbeenreallygoodaboutlisteningtomysuggestions.He’snotcrazypossessiveoverthesong,youknow?Buthealsohasnoproblemsayingnotomyideas,whichIalsoappreciate.”
Well,atleastoneofusluckedoutinthesongwriterdepartment.MJseemsperfectlycontenttoletCasslightamatchtohersongandsetitonfire.
“Okay,Itotallywanttohearmore,butIneedtograbacoffeefirst.”Ihopoutofmyseatandpickupmypurse.“DoesanyonewantanythingwhileI’mupthere?”
Aftereveryoneshakestheirheads,Iheadtothecounterandstandattheendofthelongline.ThecoffeehouseissurprisinglypackedforaSundaynight,andI’mstartledwhenseveralpeopleinlinenodorsayhellotome.Idon’tknowasingleone,butIsmileawkwardlyandnodback,thenpretendtotextonmyphonebecauseIdon’twanttogetdrawnintoaconversationwithastranger.MaybeImetthematBeau’sparty?AlltheintroductionsGarrettmadeareatotalblurtome,though.TheonlypeoplewhosenamesandfacesIrememberareBeauandJustinandafewoftheotherfootballplayers.
There’sasofttaponmyshoulder,andIturnaroundtofindmyselfpeeringupatJustin’svividblueeyes.
Speakofthedevil.
“Oh,hi,”Isqueakout.
“Hey.”Heslideshishandsintothepocketsofhisfootballjacket.“How’sitgoing?”
Itrytosoundcasualdespitemyracingheart.“Good.You?”
“I’mgreat.But…Iamcuriousaboutsomething.”Heslantshisheadinthemostadorableway,andwhenalockofdarkhairfallsontohisforehead,Ifighttheurgetobrushitaway.“Whatexactlydoyouhaveagainstparties?”heaskswithagrin.
Iblink.“What?”
“I’verunintoyouattwopartiesnow,andbothtimesyouleftearly.”Hepauses.“Actually,bothtimesyouleftwithGraham.”
Discomfortcoilsaroundmyspine.“Uh,yeah.Well,he’sgotacar.Ican’tpassupafreeride.”
ThesecondIsayit,Irealizehowdirtythatsounded,butunlikeGarrett,whowouldhavepouncedontherideremarkinaheartbeat,Justindoesn’tevencrackasmile.Ifanything,helooksdisturbed.
He’squietforamomentbeforeloweringhisvoice.“Youknowwhat?I’mjustgonnacomeoutandask—areyouandGrahamfriends,orisitsomethingmore?”
Myphoneringsthesecondhevoicesthequestion,provingthatiPhoneshavetheabsoluteworsttiming.AsJustinTimberlake’s“SexyBack”blaresfromthespeaker,everyoneinlinelooksoverwithagrin.Whyis“SexyBack”blaringoutofmyphone?Well,becauseaveryobnoxioushockeyplayerprogrammeditinashisringtone,andI’vebeentoolazytochangeit.
Justin’sgazedropstomyphone,andsincethescreenisfacingupward,hedoesn’tmissthenameflashingacrossitinhugeblockletters.
GARRETTGRAHAM.
“Iguessthatanswersmyquestion,”hesayswryly.
Iquicklypresstheignorebutton.“No.GarrettandIaren’ttogether.Andjustsoyoudon’tthinkI’matotalweirdo,Ididn’tassignhimthatringtone.Hedid.”
Justinstilllooksdubious.“Soyou’renotdatinghim?”
SincethewholepointofgoingtoBeau’spartywithGarrettwastomakemeseemdesirable,Isticktothelie.“We’recasuallyseeingeachother,butwe’renotexclusiveoranything.Weseeotherpeople,too.”
“Oh.Okay.”
Thelineshiftsclosertothecounter,andweshufflerightalongwithit.
“Doesthatmeanyou’reallowedtohavedinnerwithmesometime?”Justinaskswithafaintsmile.
Apangofalarmlightsmybelly.Ican’tquitemakesenseofit,soIdecidetoignoreit.“I’mallowedtodowhateverIwant.LikeIsaid,GarrettandIaren’ttogether.Wejusthangoutsometimes.”
God,thatsoundssleazy.Iknowwhatguysthinkwhentheyhearthat.Imightaswellhavesaid,I’mjustsleepingwithhim,nostringsattached.
However,Justindoesn’tseemputoffbythat.Hishandsmovefromhispocketstothebeltloopsofhiscargopantsinaslightlyawkwardpose.“Look.Hannah.Ithinkyou’reprettycool.”Heshrugs.“I’dliketogettoknowyoubetter.”
Myheartskipsabeat.“Really?”
“Totally.AndI’mfineifyou’redatingotherpeopleatthesametime,but…”Hisexpressionbecomesintense.“IfyouandIgooutacoupletimesandwehavethekindofconnectionIthinkwe’regoingtohave,thenI’mgonnawanttoinvokeanexclusiveclauseprettydamnsoon.”
Ican’thelpbutsmile.“Ididn’trealizefootballplayerswereinterestedinmonogamy,”Itease.
Hechuckles.“Myteammatessureashellaren’t,butI’mnotlikethem.IfI’mintoagirl,Iwanthertobewithmeandonlyme.”Idon’tknowwhattosaytothat,butfortunatelyhegoesonbeforeIcanrespond.“Butit’swaytooearlytotalkaboutstufflikethat,huh?Howaboutwestartwithdinner?”
OhmyGod.He’saskingmeout.Notforcoffee,nottostudy,butanactualdate
Ishouldbedoinginternalcartwheelsorsomething,andyetIcan’tshaketheapprehensionchurninginmystomach,themuffledlittlealarmbellsthataretellingmetosay…no.Butthat’scrazy.I’vebeenobsessingoverthisguysinceschoolstarted.Iwanttogooutwithhim.
Iexhaleaslowbreath.“Sure,thatsoundsgreat.When?”
“Well,I’mkindaswampedthisweek.Ihavetwopaperstowrite,andthenI’llbeinBuffalowiththeteamthisweekend.Howaboutaweekfromnow?NextSunday,maybe?”
Myphonebustsoutitsrenditionof“SexyBack.”
AfrowntouchesJustin’slips,butitfadeswhenIhastilypressignoreagain.
“NextSundayisgreat,”Isayfirmly.
“Awesome.”
Wereachthecounter,andIorderalargemochalatte,butbeforeIcanreachformywallet,Justincomesupbesideme,placeshisownorder,andproceedstopayforbothofus.“Mytreat.”
Hishuskyvoicesendsashiverracingthroughme.
“Thankyou.”
Aswemovetotheotherendofthecountertowaitforourdrinks,hedoesthatcutehead-tiltingthingagain.“Areyoustickingaroundhere,ordoyouwantmetowalkyoubacktoyourdorm?Wait—you’reinthedorms,right?Ordoyouliveoff-campus?”
“I’minBristolHouse.”
“Hey,we’renextdoorneighbors.I’minHartford.”
Thebaristaslidesourordersonthecounter.Justinreachesforhiscup,thengrinsatme.“Shallwewalkbacktogether,milady?”
Okay.Well,thatwas…cheesy.Andhedidn’tthankthegirlatthecounterwhenshehandedhimhiscoffee.Idon’tknowwhythatbothersme,butitdoes
Still,Iforceasmile,evenasIgivetheruefulshakeofmyhead.“Iwould,butI’mherewithfriends.”
Hiseyestwinkle.“You’rejustasocialbutterfly,aren’tyou?”
Ilaughawkwardly.“Notreally.Ihaven’tseenmyfriendsinawhile.I’vebeentoobusytogoout.”
“NottoobusytoseeGraham,”hepointsout.There’sateasingnoteinhisvoice,butIalsohearsomethingsharper.Jealousy?Ormaybeit’sresentment.Butthenhesmilesagainandplayfullytakesmyphonefrommyhand.“I’mputtingmynumberinhere.Textmeyourswhenyougetachance,andwe’llfigureoutthedetailsfornextweek.”
Myheartspeedsup,butthistimeit’sfromnervousexcitement.Ican’tbelievewe’reactuallygoingonadate.
Justinfinishesenteringhisnumberintomycontactlistjustasthephoneringsinhishand.
Surprise!It’sGarrettagain.
“Maybeyoushouldjustanswerit,”Justinmutters.
Hemightberight.Threecallsintwominutes?Thatcoulddefinitelymeananemergency.
OritcouldmeanthatGarrettisjusttryingtoannoymeasusual.
“I’llseeyouSunday.”Justinhandsthephoneback,smilesagain(butitlooksmegaawkwardthistime),andthenwalksoff.
Imoveawayfromthecounterandanswerthecallbeforeitjumpsovertovoicemail.“Hey,what’sup?”Isayirritably.
“Finally!”Garrett’saggravatedvoiceslidesintomyear.“Whydoyouevenownaphoneifyoudon’tbotherpickingitupwhensomeonecalls?Youbetterhaveagoodreasonforignoringme,Wellsy.”
“MaybeIwasintheshower,”Igrumble.“Orpeeing.Ordoingyoga.Orstreakingnakedthroughthequad.”
“Wereyoudoinganyofthosethings?”hechallenges.
“No,butIcouldhavebeen.It’snotlikeIspendmydayssittingaroundandwaitingforyoutocall,jackass.”
Heignoresthebarb.“What’swithallthevoices?Whereareyou?”
“CoffeeHut.I’mcatchingupwithsomefriends.”IleaveoutthepartwhereJustinaskedmeoutonadate.Forsomereason,Idon’tthinkGarrettwillapprove,andI’mnotinthemoodtoarguewithhim.“Sowhat’ssoimportantyouhadtocallmefivetrilliontimes?”
“Dean’sbirthdayistomorrowandtheteamisgoingtoMalone’s.We’llprobablyendupgoingbacktoourplaceafterward.Youin?”
Ilaugh.“You’reaskingmeifIwanttogotoabarandwatchabunchofhockeyplayersgetloaded?Whywouldyoueverthinkthat’ssomethingI’denjoy?”
“Youhavetocome,”hesaysfirmly.“Mymidtermgradecomesbacktomorrow,remember?WhichmeansI’lleitherbecelebratingorcommiserating.Eitherway,Iwantyouthere.”
“Idon’tknow…”
“Please?”
Wow.Garrettknowsthewordplease?Shocking.
“Allright,”Irelent,becauseforsomestupidreason,Ican’tsaynotothisguy.“I’llcome.”
“Hellsyeah.Pickyouupateight?”
“Sure.”
Ihangup,wonderinghowinthespanoffiveminutes,I’vemadenotone,buttwodates.OnewiththeguyIlike,andtheotherwiththeguyIkissed.
IwiselykeepboththosedetailstomyselfasIrejoinmyfriends.19
HANNAH
It’sbecomingglaringlyobviousthatGarrettwasright.Heisanimagebooster.AsIwalkdownthecobblestonepathtowardthePhilosophybuilding,atleastfifteenpeoplecallouttome.Hi,howareya,lookinggood.I’mgreetedbysomanysmiles,waves,andhellosthatIfeellikeI’vejuststeppedfootonawholeotherplanet.AplanetcalledHannah,becauseeveryoneseemstoknowme.ButIhavenocluewhotheyare,thoughImusthavemetthematBeau’sparty.
Discomforttwistsmystomach,alongwithawaveofself-consciousnessthathasmepickingupmypace.Unsettledbyalltheattention,IpracticallysprinttoclassandslideintomyseatnexttoNell.GarrettandJustinhaven’tarrivedyet,whichisabitofarelief.I’mnotsureIfeelliketalkingtoeitherofthemrightnow.
“IheardyouwentoutwithGarrettGrahamthisweekend,”isthefirstthingNellsaystome.
SweetbabyJesus.CanInotgoasinglesecondwithoutbeingremindedoftheguy?
“Uh,yeah,”Isayvaguely.
“That’sit?Yeah?Comeon,Iwantallthedirtydetails.”
“Therearen’tany.”Ishrug.“Wejusthangoutsometimes.”Apparently,thisisnowmygo-toresponse.
“Whataboutyourothercrush?”Nellnodsmeaningfullytowardtheoppositeaisle.
IfollowhergazeandrealizethatJustinhasjustshownup.Hesettlesinhisseatandpullsalaptopoutofitscase,andasifhesensesmygazeonhim,heliftshisheadandsmiles.
Ismileback,andthenTolbertsauntersin,andIbreakeyecontactasIfocusonthepodium.
Garrett’slate,whichisunlikehim.Iknowhewasoutwithhisteammateslastnightanddidn’thavepracticethismorning,butthere’snowayhewould’vesleptinuntilfouro’clock.Idiscreetlypulloutmyphonetotexthim,buthismessagereachesmefirst.
Him:Dealingwithanemergency.I’llshowupforthesecondhalf.TakenotesformeuntilIgetthere?
Me:EverythingOK??
Him:Yeah.CleaningupLogan’smess.Longstory.Tellulater.
Itakecopiousnotesduringthelecture,moreforGarrett’ssakethanmyown,sinceI’vealreadyreadaheadandhavethelatesttheorymemorized.AsTolbertdroneson,myminddrifts.IthinkaboutmyimpendingdinnerdatewithJustin,andthatuneasysensationreturns,bringingaqueasyfeelingtomystomach.
WhyamIsonervousaboutit?It’sjustdinner.Andthat’sallit’sgoingtobe.Othergirlsmightputoutonthefirstdate,butI’mcertainlynotoneofthem.
ButJustinisafootballplayer.Thegirlshedatesprobablygetnakedbeforethemenusevenarrive.Whatifheexpectsthatfromme?
Whatifhe…
No,Ifirmlytellmyself.Irefusetobelievehe’sthekindofguywhowouldpressuresomeonetosleepwithhim.
Attheforty-fiveminutemark,Tolbertcallsforabreak,andallthesmokersintheclassboltoutasifthey’vebeentrappedinaminefortwoweeks.Iheadoutsidetoo,nottosmoke,buttolookforGarrett,whostillhasn’tmadeanappearance.
Justintrailsaftermeintothecorridor.“I’mgrabbingacoffee.Wantone?”
“No,thanks.”
Hislipscurveashemeetsmyeyes.“ArewestillonforSunday?”
“Yep.”
Hegivesapleasednod.“Good.”
Ican’thelpbutadmirehisbuttashewalksoff.Hiscargopantsaren’tsupertight,buttheyhughisassnicely.Hisbodyreallyisamazing.IjustwishIhadabettersenseofhispersonality.Istillfinditdifficulttoreadhim,andthatbugsme.
That’swhyyou’rehavingdinnerwiththeguy—togettoknowhim.
Right.IforcemyselftorememberthatasIshiftmyattentionbacktothefrontdoors,rightasGarrettstridesthroughthem.Hischeeksareflushedfromthecoldandhishockeyjacketiszippedallthewayuptothecollar.
HisblackTimberlandsthudontheshinyfloorasheheadstowardme.“Hey,what’dImiss?”heasks.
“Notmuch.Tolbert’stalkingaboutRousseau.”
Garrettglancesatthelecturehallentrance.“Issheinthere?”
Inod.
“Okay,good.I’mgonnaseeifshecangivememymidtermbacknowinsteadofattheendofclass.I’mstilldealingwiththatemergency,soIcan’tstay.”
“AreyougoingtotellmewhathappenedorshouldIstartguessing?”
Hegrins.“LoganlosthisfakeID.Heneedsitincasewegetcardedtonight,soI’mdrivinghimtoBostontomeetthisguywhodoes’emonthespot.”Hepauses.“You’vegotID,right?ThebounceratMalone’sknowsmeandtheguys,soweshouldn’thaveaproblemgettingin,butyoumight.”
“Yeah,IhaveID.Andbytheway,whyisDeanhavinghisbirthdaypartyonaMonday?Howlatedoyouguysplanonstayingout?”
“Probablynottoolate.I’llmakesureyougethomewheneveryou’rereadytogo.Andit’sonaMondaybecauseMaxwellstoleDean’sthunderbyhavinghispartyonSaturday.That,andwedon’thaveicetimeonTuesdays.Theteam’sintheweightroom,andwhenyou’rehungover,it’saloteasiertoliftweightsthanskate.”
Irollmyeyes.“Wouldn’titbeeasiertojustnotbehungover?”
Hesnickers.“Tellthattothebirthdayboy.Butdon’tworry,I’mtheDDtonight.I’llbestonecoldsober.Oh,andIwantedtotalktoyouaboutsomething,butonesec,letmejustspeaktoTolbertfirst.Berightback.”
AmomentafterGarrettdisappearsintothelecturehall,Justinreappearsholdingafoamcoffeecup.“Headingbackin?”heasksmeashewalkstothedoorway.
“I’llbetheresoon.I’mjustwaitingforsomeone.”
Twominuteslater,Garrettpopsintothecorridor,andItakeonelookathisexpressionandknowhe’sabouttodelivergoodnews.
“Youpassed?”Isqueal.
Heraiseshisexambookletoverhisheadlikehe’sactingoutascenefromtheLionKing.“A-fucking-minus!”
Igasp.“Holyshit!Really?”
“Yup.”
BeforeIcanblink,Garretttugsmeintohisarmsandhugsthebreathoutofmylungs.Ithrowmyarmsaroundhisneck,thenburstoutlaughingwhenheliftsmerightoffmyfeetandspinsmearoundsomanytimesIgetdizzy.
Ourexuberantdisplaydrawsseveralcuriousstares,butIdon’tcare.Garrett’sjoyiscontagious.Whenhefinallysetsmedown,Isnatchthepaperfromhishand.AfterallthosehoursIinvestedinhistutoring,itkindoffeelslikethisismygradetoo,andmychestoverflowswithprideasIskimthroughhisA-minus-worthywords.
“Thisisamazing,”Itellhim.“DoesthatmeanyourGPAisbackwhereitshouldbe?”
“Damnrightitis.”
“Good.”Inarrowmyeyes.“Nowmakesureitstaysthatway.”
“Itwill—ifyoupromisetohelpmestudyforeveryquizandoutlineeverypaper.”
“Hey,ourarrangementisover,dude.Ipromisenothing.But…”Asalways,IcapitulateinthepresenceofGarrettGraham.“I’llhelpyoumaintainthegradeasatokenofmyfriendship,butonlywhenIhavethetime.”
Withasmile,hedrawsmeinforanotherhug.“Icouldn’thavedoneitwithoutyou,youknow.”Hisvoicehasgonehusky,andIfeelhiswarmbreathticklingmytemple.Heeasesback,thosemagneticgrayeyesfocusingonmyface,andthenhisheaddipsslightly,andforonenerve-wrackingsecondIthinkhemightkissme.
Iabruptlystepoutoftheembrace.“SoIguesswearecelebratingtonight,”Isaylightly.
“You’restillcoming,right?”There’sachordofintensityinhisvoicenow.
“DidIliterallynotjustsaythat?”Igrumble.
Reliefflitsthroughhisexpression.“Listen…Iwantedtorunsomethingbyyou.”
Icheckmyphoneandrealizethere’sonlythreeminutesbeforeclassstartsagain.“Canyoudoitlater?Ishouldgobackin.”
“It’lljusttakeaminute.”Hisgazelockswithmine.“Doyoutrustme?”
Warinessripplesthroughme,butwhenIanswer,it’swithunwaveringcertaintythatstartlesme.“OfcourseIdo.”
Gosh,Ireallydo.EventhoughI’veonlyknownhimforashorttime,Itrustthisguy.
“I’mglad.”Hisvoicethickens,andheclearshisthroatbeforecontinuing.“Iwantyoutohaveadrinktonight.”
Istiffen.“What?Why?”
“BecauseIthinkitwillbegoodforyou.”
“Sowait,that’swhyyouinvitedmetoDean’sthingtonight?”Isaysarcastically.“Togetmedrunk?”
“No.”Garrettshakeshishead,visiblyfrazzled.“Tohelpyouseethatit’sokaytoletdownyourguardsometimes.Look,I’mtheDDtonight,butI’mofferingtobemorethanjustyourdriver.I’llbeyourbodyguard,andyourbartender,andmostimportantly,yourfriend.Ipromisetolookoutforyoutonight,Wellsy.”
Iamoddlytouchedbyhisspeech.Butit’scompletelyunwarranted.
“I’mnotsomealcoholicwhohastodrink,Garrett.”
“Idon’tthinkthatatall,dumbass.Ijustwantedtomakesureyouknewthatifyoudecidetohaveabeerortwo,youdon’thavetoworry.I’monit.”Hehesitates.“Iknowyourfriendhadabadexperiencewithdrinkinginpublic,butIpromise,I’dneverletthathappentoyou.”
Iwincewhenhesays“yourfriend,”butluckily,Idon’tthinkhenotices.ApartofmewishesIneverfedhimthatoldthishappenedtomyfriendexcuse,butIcan’tbringmyselftoregretit.Onlymyclosestfriendsknowaboutwhathappenedtome,andyeah,ImighttrustGarrett,butIdon’tfeelcomfortabletellinghimabouttherape.
“Soifyouwanttodrinktonight,Ipromisenothingbadwillhappentoyou.”Hesoundssogenuinethatmyheartsqueezeswithemotion.“Anyway,that’sallIwantedtosay.Just…thinkaboutit,okay?”
MythroatissotightIcanbarelygetawordout.“Okay.”Iexhaleawobblybreath.“I’llthinkaboutit.”
GARRETT
HockeyplayerstakeupeveryinchofavailablespaceatMalone’s,abarthatdoesn’thavemuchspacetobeginwith.Theplaceissotinythatmostofthetimeit’sstandingroomonly.
Tonightthere’sbarelyenoughroomtobreathe,letalonestand.
ThewholeteamhasshownupforDean’sbirthdaybash,andMondayshappentobekaraokenightatthebar,sothecrampedroomisloudasfuckandjammedwithbodies.Ontheplusside,noneofushadtoflashourfakeIDsatthedoor.
Isuddenlyrealizethatinafewmonths,myfakeIDwillbeuseless.AndonceIturntwenty-oneinJanuary,I’llberewardedwithmorethanjustlegaladultstatus—I’llfinallyhaveaccesstothetrustmygrandparentsleftme,whichmeansI’llbeonestepclosertoriddingmyselfofmyoldman.
Hannahwalksinabouttwentyminutesaftertheguysandme.Ididn’tpickherupbecauseherrehearsalranlateandsheinsistedshewasfinetakingacab.She’dalsoinsistedongoingbacktoherdormfirsttoshowerandchange,andwhenIlayeyesonher,Iwhole-heartedlysupportthatdecision.Shelooksfuckinggorgeousinherleggings,high-heeledbootsandribbedT-shirt.Allblack,ofcourse,butasshegetscloser,I’monthelookoutforhertrademarkflashofcolor—andIfinditwhensheturnsherheadtogreetDean.Ahugeyellowhairclipwithlittlebluestarsholdsherdarkhairback.Halfofitisstilllooseandframesherflushedface.
“Hey,”shesays.“It’sswelteringinhere.I’mgladIdidn’tbotherwithacoat.”
“Hey.”Ileaninandsmackakissonhercheek.Iwouldhavelovedtotargetthoselusciouslips,buteventhoughIconsiderthisadate,I’mprettysureHannahdoesn’t.“Howwasrehearsal?”
“Theusual.”Sheoffersaglumlook.“Theusualbeingshitty.”
“WhatdidCasstheAssdothistime?”
“Nothingmajor.Justactinglikehisjackassself.”Hannahsighs.“Iwontheargumentaboutwheretoputthebridgeinthearrangement,buthewonaboutthesecondchorus.Youknow,forwhenthechoircomesin.”
Igroanloudly.“Oh,forfuck’ssake,Wellsy.Youcavedonthat?”
“Itwastwoagainstone,”shesaysdarkly.“MJdecidedhersongabsolutelyrequiredachoirformaximumeffect.WestartrehearsingwiththemonWednesday.”
She’sveryobviouslypissed,soIsqueezeherarmandsay,“Doyouwantadrink?”
Iseeherslenderthroatbobasshegulps.Shedoesn’tanswerforamoment.Shejustlooksintomyeyes,asifshe’stryingtomentallyboreherwayintomybrain.Iendupholdingmybreath,becauseIknowsomethingimportantisabouttohappen.Hannahiseithergoingtoplacehertrustinmyhands,orshe’sgoingtolockituptight,whichwouldbetheequivalentofabone-jarringhip-check,becausedamnit,Iwanthertotrustme.
Whenshefinallyanswers,hervoiceissosoftIcan’thearheroverthemusic.
“What?”
Abreathescapesherlips,andthensheraiseshervoice.“Isaid,sure.”
Withthatoneteenyword,myheartinflateslikeagoddamnheliumballoon.Hannah’strust,meetGarrett’shands
Ifighttokeepmyhappinessincheck,settlingforanonchalantnodasIleadhertowardthebarcounter.“What’llitbe?Beer?Whiskey?”
“No,Iwantsomethingtasty.”
“IsweartoGod,Wellsy,ifyouorderpeachschnappsorsomethinggirlylikethat,Iwillofficiallyunfriendyou”
“ButIamagirl,”sheprotests.“Whycan’tIhaveagirlydrink?Ooh,maybeapi?acolada?”
Iheaveoutasigh.“Fine.That’sbetterthanschnapps,atleast.”
Atthecounter,IorderHannah’sdrinkandthenproceedtoscrutinizeeverymovethebartendermakes.Hannahalsowatcheshimwitheagleeyes.
Withtwoofthemostvigilantpatronsontheplanetmonitoringthepi?a-colada-makingprocessfromstarttofinish,there’sabsolutelynodoubtaboutthedrug-freestatusoftheglassIplaceinHannah’shandafewminuteslater.
Shetakesatinysip,thensmilesupatme.“Mmmm.Yummy.”
Thejoyinmyheartdamnnearoverflows.“C’mon,letmeintroduceyoutosomeoftheguys.”
Itakeherarmagainandwewandertowardtherowdygroupatthepooltable,whereIintroducehertoBirdieandSimms.LoganandTuckerspotusandwalkover,andbothofthemgreetHannahwithahug.Logan’shuglastsalittletoolong,butwhenImeethiseyes,hisexpressionisoneofinnocence.MaybeI’mjustbeingparanoid.
Buthell,I’malreadycompetingwithKohlforHannah’saffections,andthelastthingIwantismybestfriendthrowinghishatinthering.
Except…amIcompeting?I’mstillnotsurewhatIevenwantfromher.Imean,fine,Iwantsex.Iwantitvery,verybadly.Butifbysomemiracleshedecidestogiveittome,whatthen?Whathappensafter?DoIstickaflaginthegroundandclaimherasmygirlfriend?
Girlfriendsareadistraction,andIcan’taffordanydistractionsrightnow,especiallywhentwoweeksagoIwasindangeroflosingmyplaceontheteam.
Therearen’tmanythingsmyfatherandIagreeon,butwhenitcomestofocusandambition,wehappentobeonthesamepage.IwillgoproafterIgraduate.Untilthen,IneedtoconcentrateonkeepingmygradesupandleadingmyteamtoanotherFrozenFourvictory.Failureisnotanoption.
ButwatchingHannahhookupwithsomeotherguy?
Notanoptioneither.
Rock,meethardplace
“OhmyGod,thisissogood,”sheannouncesasshetakesanotherdeepswig.“Itotallywantanotherone.”
Ichuckle.“Howaboutyoufinishthisonefirst,andthenwecantalkaboutarefill?”
“Fine,”shehuffs.ThenshedrainstherestofherdrinkinoneofthemostimpressivefeatsofspeedI’veeverwitnessed,licksherlips,andbeamsatme.“Okay.Howaboutthatrefill?”
Ican’tfightthegrinthatstretchesacrossmyface.Manohman.IhaveafeelingHannahisgoingtobeavery…interestingdrunk.
Iamabsolutelyright.
Threepi?acoladaslater,Hannahisuponstagedoingkaraoke.
Yup.Drunkgirlkaraoke.
Theonlysavinggraceisthatshe’saphenomenalsinger.Ican’timaginehowcringe-worthyitwouldbeifshewasdrunkandtone-deaf.
TheentirebarisgoingbatshitcrazyforHannah’sperformance.She’sbeltingout“BadRomance”andalmosteveryoneissingingalong,includingmorethanafewofmywastedteammates.IfindmyselfgrinninglikeanidiotasIgazeatthestage.There’snothinglewdaboutwhatshe’sdoing.Nocoyalmost-stripping,nosuggestivedancemoves.Hannahthrowsherheadbackhappily,hercheeksflushedandeyesshiningasshesings,andshe’ssobeautifulitmakesmychesthurt.
Fuck,Iwanttokissheragain.Iwanttofeelherlipsonmine.IwanttohearthatthroatynoiseshemadethefirsttimeIsuckedonhertongue.
Wonderful.AndnowI’mhardasarock,splatinthemiddleofabarteemingwithmyfriends.
“She’samazing!”Loganshouts,sidlinguptome.He’sgrinningtooashewatchesHannah,butthere’sanoddgleaminhiseyes.Looksabitlike…longing.
“She’samusicmajor,”isthedumbassresponseIcomeupwith,becauseI’mtoodistractedbyhisexpression.
ThunderousapplauseburstsoutwhenHannah’ssongends.Asecondlater,Deanclimbsonthestageandwhisperssomethinginherear.FromwhatIcanglean,he’stryingtopersuadehertosingaduet,buthekeepstouchingherbareupperarmasheworksthecharm,andthere’snomistakingtheflickerofuneaseinHannah’seyes.
“That’smycuetorescueher,”Isaybeforethreadingmywaythroughthecrowd.WhenIreachthebottomofthelow-risestage,IcupmyhandsaroundmymouthandcallouttoHannah.“Wellsy,getyoursexybuttoverhere!”
Herexpressionlightsupwhenshespotsme.Withoutskippingabeat,shedivesoffthestageandintomywaitingarms,laughingindelightasIspinheraround.“OhmyGod,thisissomuchfun!”sheexclaims.“Weneedtocomehereallthetime!”
Aslaughterticklesmythroat,Istudyherfacetogaugewhereshelandsonmyincrediblyaccuratedrunkscale.OnebeingsoberandtenbeingI’mgoingtowakeupnakedinPortlandwithnomemoryofhowIgothere.Sincehereyesaresharpandshe’snotslurringorstumbling,Idecideshe’sprobablyataboutafive—tipsybutaware.
Andmaybeitmakesmeanarrogantbastard,butIlovebeingtheonewhogothertothispoint.Whoshetrustedenoughtotakecareofhersothatshecouldallowherselftoletgoandhaveagoodtime.
Withanotherbrilliantsmile,shetakesmyhandandstartsdraggingmeawayfromthetinydancefloor.
“Wherearewegoing?”Iaskwithalaugh.
“Ihavetopee!Andyoupromisedtobemybodyguard,sothatmeansyouhavetowaitoutsidethedoorandstandguard.”Thosemesmerizinggreeneyespeerupatme,flickeringwithuncertainty.“Youwon’tletanythingbadhappentome,willyou,Garrett?”
AlumpthesizeofMassachusettslodgesinmythroat.Iswallowhardandtrytospeakpastit.“Never.”20
HANNAH
Ican’tbelieveIwasevernervousaboutcomingtothebartonight,becauseholymoly,I’mhavingablast.Atthemoment,I’mcrammedinaboothnexttoGarrett,andwe’reinvolvedinaheateddebatewithTuckerandSimms,arguingabouttechnology,ofallthings.Tuckerwon’tbudgeonhispositionthatyoungkidsshouldn’tbeallowedtowatchmorethananhourofTVaday.I’mtotallywithhimonthat,butGarrettandSimmsdisagree,andthefourofushavebeenbickeringaboutitformorethantwentyminutesnow.I’mashamedtoadmitit,butIhonestlydidn’texpectallthesehockeyplayerstohavearticulateopinionsaboutnon-hockey-relatedmatters,butthey’realotmoreinsightfulthanIgavethemcreditfor.
“Childrenneedtobeoutsideridingtheirbikesandcatchingfrogsandclimbingtrees,”Tuckerinsists,wavinghispintglassintheairasiftopunctuatehispoint.“It’snothealthyforthemtobecoopedupindoorsstaringatascreenallday.”
“Iagreeabouteverythingexceptforthefrogspart,”Ipipeup.“Becausefrogsareslimyandgross.”
Theguysburstoutlaughing.
“Sissy,”Simmsteases.
“Aw,comeon,Wellsy,givethefrogsachance,”Tuckerprotests.“Didyouknowthatifyoulicktherightone,youmightgethigh?”
Istareathiminhorror.“Ihavezerointerestinlickingafrog.”
Simmshoots.“Noteventogettheprince?”
Good-naturedgroaningringsout.
“Nope,noteventhen,”Isayfirmly.
Tuckertakesadeepswigofbeerbeforewinkingatme.“Howaboutlickingsomethingotherthanafrog?Orareyouanti-lickingaltogether?”
Mycheeksscorchattheinnuendo,buttheimpishglimmerinhiseyestellsmehe’snottryingtobecrude,soIrespondwithmyowndoseofinnuendo.“Naah,I’mpro-licking.AslongasI’mlickingsomethingtasty.”
Anotherroundofhootsbreaksout,butGarrettdoesn’tjoinin.WhenIglanceoverathim,Inoticethathiseyeshaveflaredwithheat.
Iwonderifhe’simaginingmymouthonhis…nope,notgoingthere
“Shit,someoneneedstohog-tiethatolddudesohestopsmonopolizingthejukebox,”TuckerdeclareswhenyetanotherBlackSabbathsongblaststhroughthebar.
Weallturntowardtheculprit—alocalwithabushyredbeardandthemeanestscowlI’veeverseen.Themomentthekaraokemachineshutdownforthenight,RedBeardhadracedtothejukeboxandshovedtenbucksworthofquartersinsideit,keyinginarockplaylistthathassofarconsistedofBlackSabbath,BlackSabbath,andmoreBlackSabbath.Oh,andoneCCRsongthatSimmsclaimedhe’dlosthisvirginityto.
Eventuallyourdebateturnstohockeytalk,asSimmstriestoconvincemethatthegoalieisthemostimportantplayeronahockeyteam,whileTuckerbooshimtheentiretime.TheBlackSabbathsongblessedlycomestoanend,replacedbyLynyrdSkynyrd’s“Tuesday’sGone,”andastheopeningstrainsechothroughthebar,IfeelGarrettstiffenbesideme.
“What’swrong?”Iask.
“Nothing.”Heclearshisthroat,thenslidesoutoftheboothandtugsmeupwithhim.“Dancewithme.”
“Tothis?”I’mbaffledforamoment,untilIrememberwhatahugehard-onhehasforLynyrdSkynyrd.Cometothinkofit,I’mprettysurethissongwasonthatplaylistheemailedmelastweek.
Tuckersnickersfromhissideofthebooth.“Sincewhendoyoudance,G?”
“Sincerightnow,”Garrettmutters
Heleadsmetothesmallareainfrontofthestage,whichiscompletelyemptybecausenobodyelseisdancing.Discomfortshiftsinsideme,butwhenGarrettholdsouthishand,Ihesitateforonlyasecondbeforetakingit.Hey,ifhewantstodance,thenwe’lldance.It’stheleastIcandoconsideringhowamazinghe’sbeentonight.
YoucansayalotofthingsaboutGarrettGraham,buthe’sdefinitelyamanofhisword.He’sbeengluedtomysideallnight,guardingmydrinks,waitingoutsidethebathroomforme,makingsureIdon’tgetharassedbyhisfriendsorthelocalswe’vemet.He’stotallyhadmyback,andbecauseofhim,Iwasabletolowermyguardforthefirsttimeinaverylongtime.
God.Ican’tbelieveIeverthoughthewasn’tagoodguy.
“Youknowthissongislikesevenminuteslong,right?”Ipointoutaswestepontothedancefloor.
“Iknow.”Histoneiscasual.Unaffected.ButIhavethestrangestfeelinghe’supsetaboutsomething.
Garrettdoesn’tplasterhisbodytomineortrytogrindupagainstme.Instead,wedancethewayI’veseenmyparentsdo,withGarrett’shandonmyhipandhisotheronecurledaroundmyrighthand.Irestmyfreehandonhisshoulder,andheleansincloserandpresseshischeektomine.Hisstubbleisateasingscratchagainstmyface,bringinggoosebumpstomybarearms.WhenItakeabreath,hiswoodyaftershavefillsmylungs,andarushofgiddydizzinesswashesoverme.
Idon’tknowwhat’shappeningtome.Ifeelhotandachyand—it’sthealcohol,Iassuremyself.Ithastobe.BecauseGarrettandIagreedthatwe’rejustfriends.
“Dean’senjoyinghimself,”Icomment,mostlybecauseI’mdesperateforadistractionfrommyout-of-controlhormones.
Garrettfollowsmygazetowardthebackbooth,whereDeanissandwichedbetweentwoblondeswhoareveryeagerlynibblingonhisneck.“Yeah.Guessso.”
There’safarawaylookinhisgrayeyes.Hisabsenttonemakesitclearhe’snotinterestedinmakingconversation,soIfallsilentandtryhardnottolethisoverpoweringmasculinityaffectme.
Buteverytimehischeekgrazesmyface,thegoosebumpsgetworse.Andeverytimehisbreathpuffsonmyjaw,aflurryofshiversskittersthroughme.Theheatofhisbodysearsintome,hisscentsurroundsme,andI’mexcruciatinglyawareofhiswarmhandclutchingmine.BeforeIcanstopmyself,Irubmythumboverthecenterofhispalm.
Garrett’sbreathhitches.
Yep,ithastobethealcohol.There’snootherexplanationforthesensationscoursingthroughmybody.Theacheinmybreasts,thetightclenchingofmythighsandthestrangeemptinessinmycore.
Whenthesongends,Iexhalearelievedbreathandtakeamuch-neededstepback.
“Thanksforthedance,”Garrettmumbles.
Imightbetipsy,butI’mnotdrunk,andIinstantlypickuponthesadnessradiatingfromhisbroadchest.
“Hey,”Isayinconcern.“What’swrong?”
“Nothing.”Histhroatdipsasheswallows.“It’sjust…thatsong…”
“Whataboutit?”
“Bringsbackmemories,that’sall.”HepausesforsolongIdon’tthinkhe’sgoingtocontinue,butthenhedoes.“Itwasmymom’sfavoritesong.Theyplayeditatherfuneral.”
Mybreathcatchesinsurprise.“Oh.Oh,Garrett,I’msorry.”
Heshrugsasifhehasnocareintheworld.
“Garrett…”
“Look,itwaseitherdancetoit,orbawlmyeyesout,okay?Soyeah,thanksforthedance.”HesidestepsmeasIreachforhisarm.“I’vegottatakealeak.Willyoubeokayhereforafewminutes?”
“Yeah,but—”
HestalksoffbeforeIcanfinish.
Iwatchhimgo,battlingawaveofsorrowthatconstrictsmythroat.I’mtornasIstandtherestaringathisretreatingback.Iwanttogoafterhimandforcehimtotalkaboutit.
No,Ishouldgoafterhim.
Isquaremyshouldersandhurryforward—onlytofreezeasIcomefacetofacewithmyex-boyfriend.
“Devon!”Isqueak.
“Hannah…hey.”Devonisvisiblyuncomfortableasourgazeslock.
Ittakesmeasecondtoregisterthathe’snotalone.Atall,prettyredheadstandsbesidehim…andthey’reholdinghands.
MypulsespeedsupbecauseIhaven’tseenDevonsincewebrokeuplastwinter.He’sapoliticalsciencemajor,sowe’renotinanyofthesameclasses,andoursocialcirclesdon’tusuallyintersect.Weprobablywouldn’thaveevenmetifAlliehadn’tdraggedmetothatconcertinBostonlastyear.Itwasasmallvenue,justafewlocalbandsplaying,andDevonhappenedtobethedrummerinoneofthebands.Wespentthewholenighttalking,discoveredthatwebothwenttoBriar,andheendedupdrivingAllieandmebacktocampusthatnight.
Afterthat,heandIwereinseparable.Weweretogetherforeightmonths,andIwaswildlyandunequivocallyinlovewithhim.Hetoldmehelovedme,too,butafterhedumpedme,apartofmewonderedifmaybehe’donlybeenwithmeoutofpity.
Don’tthinkthatway.
ThesternvoiceinmyheadbelongstoCarole,andsuddenlyIlongtohearitinperson.OurtherapysessionsendedonceIleftforcollege,andalthoughwe’vehadafewphonechatshereandthere,it’snotthesameassittinginthatcozyleatherarmchairinCarole’soffice,breathinginhersoothinglavenderscentandhearingherwarm,reassuringvoice.InolongerneedCarolethewayIusedto,butrightnow,asIfaceoffwithDevonandhisgorgeousnewgirlfriend,alltheoldinsecuritiescomerushingback.
“How’veyoubeen?”heasks.
“Good.No,I’mgreat,”Iamendhastily.“Howareyou?”
“Can’tcomplain.”Thesmilehegivesmelooksforced.“Uh…thebandbrokeup.”
“Oh,shit.I’msorrytohearthat.Whathappened?”
Heabsentlyrubsthesilverhoopinhislefteyebrow,andI’mremindedofallthetimesIusedtokissthatpiercingwhenwewerelyinginbedtogether.
“Bradhappened,”Devonadmits.“Youknowhowhewasalwaysthreateningtogosolo?Well,hefinallydecidedhedidn’tneedus.Helandedarecorddealwiththishotnewindielabel,andwhentheysaidtheywantedtheirhousebandtobackhim,Braddidn’tfightforus.”
I’mnotsurprisedtohearit.IalwaysthoughtBradwasthemostpompousassholeontheplanet.Actually,he’dprobablygetalongsplendidlywithCass.
“Iknowitsucks,butIthinkyou’rebetteroff,”ItellDevon.“Bradwould’vescrewedyouovereventually.Atleastithappenednow,beforeyousignedanything,youknow?”
“That’swhatIkeeptellinghim,”theredheadpipesup,thenturnstoDevon.“See,someoneelseagreeswithme.”
Someoneelse.IsthatwhatIam?NotDevon’sex-girlfriend,nothisfriend,notevenanacquaintance.I’msimply…someoneelse.
ThewayshediminishesmypositioninDevon’slifemakesmyheartsqueezepainfully.
“I’mEmily,bytheway,”theredheadsays.
“It’snicetomeetyou,”Ireplyawkwardly.
DevonlooksasawkwardasIfeel.“So,uh,you’vegotthewintershowcasecomingup,huh?”
“Yep.I’mperformingaduetwithCassDonovan.”Isigh.“Whichisbeginningtolooklikeahugemistake.”
Devonnods.“Well,youalwaysdidworkbetteralone.”
Mystomachgoesrigid.Forsomereason,itfeelslikehe’smakingajabatme.Likehe’sinsinuatingsomething.Likewhathe’sreallysayingisyouhavenoproblemgettingYOURSELFoff,right,Hannah?Butyoucan’tdoitwithapartner,canyou?
Iknowthat’sjustmyinsecuritiestalking.Devon’snotthatcruel.Andhetried.Hetriedsohard.
Butinsinuationornot,itstillhurts.
“Anyway,itwasnicetoseeyou,butI’mherewithfriends,so…”
InodtowardtheboothwhereTucker,SimmsandLoganareholedup,whichbringsacreaseofconfusiontoDevon’sforehead.“Sincewhendoyouhangoutwiththehockeycrowd?”
“I’mtutoringoneoftheplayers,and…uh,yeah,wehangoutsometimes.”
“Oh.Cool.Okay,well…seeyouaround.”
“Itwasnicetomeetyou!”Emilychirps.
Mythroatclosesupastheysaunteroffhand-in-hand.Iswallowhard,thentwirlintheoppositedirection.Iduckintothecorridorthatleadstotherestroom,blinkingawaythehottearsthathavewelledupinmyeyes.
God,whyamIcrying?
IquicklyrunthroughallthereasonswhyIshouldn’tbecrying.
DevonandIareover.
Idon’twanthimanymore.
I’vebeenfantasizingaboutsomeoneelseformonths
I’mgoingonadatewithJustinKohlthisweekend.
Buttheremindersachievenothing,andmyeyesstingharder.BecausewhothefuckamIkidding?WhatchancedoJustinandIpossiblyhave?Evenifwegoout,evenifwegetcloseenoughtobeintimate,whathappenswhenwehavesex?WhatifalltheissuesIhadwithDevonsproutupagain,likesomeannoyingrashyoucan’tgetridof?
WhatiftherereallyissomethingwrongwithmeandIcannever,everhaveanormalsexlifelikeanormalfrickin’woman?
Iblinkrapidlytotrytostoptheflowoftears.Irefusetocryinpublic.Irefuseto.
“Wellsy?”
Garrettemergesfromthemen’sbathroomandfrownsthemomentheseesme.“Hey,”hesaysurgently,cuppingmychin.“What’sthematter?”
“Nothing,”Imumble.
“You’relying.”Hisgripstaysfirmonmychinashesweepshisthumbsunderneathmyeyes.“Whyareyoucrying?”
“I’mnotcrying.”
“I’mwipingawayyourtearsrightnow,Wellsy.Ergo,you’recrying.Nowtellmewhat’swrong.”Hisfacesuddenlypales.“Ohshit,didsomeoneharassyouorsomething?Iwasonlygoneafewminutes.I’msosorry—”
“No,it’snotthat,”Icutin.“Ipromise.”
Garrett’sfeaturesrelax.Butonlyslightly.“Thenwhyareyouupset?”
Ichokebackthelumpinmythroat.“Ibumpedintomyexoutthere.”
“Oh.”Helooksstartled.“Theguyyouweredatinglastyear?”
Inodweakly.“Hewaswithhisnewgirlfriend.”
“Shit.Thatmusthavebeenawkward.”
“Iguess.”Hostilitycrawlsthroughmelikeanarmyoftinyants.“She’sgorgeous,bytheway.Like,reallygorgeous.”Thebitterfeelingintensifies,twistingmyinsidesandhardeningmyjaw.“IbetshehasorgasmsthatlastforhoursandprobablyscreamsoutI’mcoming!whenshe’sinthethroesofpassion.”
AlarmflickersthroughGarrett’seyes.“Uh.Yeah.Okay.Idon’treallyunderstandthat,butokay.”
Butit’snotokay.It’snot
WhydidIeverthinkIcouldbeanormalcollegestudent?I’mnotnormal.I’mbroken.Ikeeptellingmyselfthattherapedidn’tdestroyme,butitdid.Apieceofshitdidn’tjuststealmyvirginity—hestolemyabilitytohavesexandfeelpleasurelikeahealthy,red-bloodedwoman.
SohowthehellcanIeverhavearealrelationship?WithDevon,withJustin,withanyone,whenIcan’t…
IabruptlyshrugGarrett’shandsoffmyface.“Forgetit.I’mbeingstupid.”Liftingmychin,Itakeasteptowardthedoorway.“Comeon,Iwantanotherdrink.”
“Hannah—”
“Iwantanotherdrink,”Isnap,andthenIbulldozepasthimandmarchallthewaytothebar.21
GARRETT
Hannahiswasted.
Notonlythat,butsherefusestogohome.It’soneinthemorningandthepartyhasmovedfromthebartomyhouse,andnomatterhowhardItry,Ican’tconvinceHannahtocallitanight.
It’sbecomingcrucialthatIgetherbacktoherdorm.Mylivingroomisfullofhockeyplayersandpuckbunnies,allofwhomscoreatleastaneightonmydrunkscale:rapidlyontheirwaytothrowinginhibitiontothewindandmakingsomehuge-assmistakes
DeanhasjustdraggedalaughingHannahtothecenterofthelivingroomandthetwoofthemstartdancingtosomeR&Btrack,whichblastsoutofthespeakersattop-volume.
Hannahhadn’tbeenmovingsuggestivelywhenshe’dbeltedoutLadyGagaearlier,butshesureasshitismovingsuggestivelynow.She’sgonefromDisneyChannelMileyCyrustoFull-onTwerkModeMiley,andit’sofficiallytimeformetoputastoptoitbeforeshemovesstraighttoLet’sMakeaSexTapeMiley.Wait—hasMileyevermadeasextape?Fuck,whoamIkidding?Ofcourseshehas.
ImarchuptoHannahandDeanandforciblybreakthemapart,layingafirmhandonHannah’sshoulder.“Ineedtotalktoyou,”Ishoutoverthemusic.
Shepouts.“I’mdancing!”
“We’redancing,”Deanslurs.
Ilevelahardglareatmyteammate.“Dancewithsomeoneelse,”Isnap.
Asifoncue,awillingfemalepartnerappearslikeanapparitionandyanksDeanintoherarms.DeanallbutforgetsaboutHannah,whichallowsmetodragheroutofthelivingroomwithoutanyfurtherobjections.
Icurlmyhandaroundherarmandleadherupstairs,andIdon’treleaseheruntilwe’reinthequietsafetyofmybedroom.“Party’sover,”Iannounce.
“ButI’mhavingfun,”shewhines.
“Iknowyouare.”Icrossmyarms.“You’rehavingtoomuchfun.”
“You’remean.”Withanexaggeratedsigh,Hannahflopsdownonthebedandfallsontoherback.“I’msleepy.”
Igrin.“Comeon,I’lldriveyoubacktothedorm.”
“Idon’twannago.”Shesticksoutherarmsandlegsandproceedstodosnowangelsonmybed.“Yourbedissobigandcomfy.”
Thenhereyelidsflutterclosedandshegoesstill,anotherdeepsighescapingherlips.
IsmotheragroanasIrealizeshe’ssecondsawayfromfallingasleep,butthenIdecideitmightbebetterifIlethercrashhereanddriveherhomeinthemorning.BecauseifItakeherhomenowandshegetsasecondwind,Iwon’tbetheretokeepheroutoftrouble.
“Fine,”Isaywithanod.“Stayhereandsleepitoff,Cinderella.”
Shesnorts.“Doesthatmakeyoumyprince?”
“Damnstraight.”IduckintothebathroomandrummagearoundinthemedicinecabinetuntilIfindsomeibuprofen.ThenIpouraglassofwaterandheadbacktothebed,sittingattheedgeasIforceHannahtositup.“Taketwooftheseandchugthewater,”Iorder,slappingthetwopillsintoherpalm.“Trustme,you’llthankmeinthemorning.”
Shovingpillsandwaterdownsomeone’sthroatisnothingnewtome.Idoitoftenwithmyteammates.Dean,inparticular,whotakesdrinkingtoawholenewlevel,andnotjustonhisbirthday
Hannahobedientlyfollowsmyinstructionsbeforecollapsingonthemattressagain.
“Goodgirl.”
“I’mhot,”shemumbles.“Whyisitsohotinhere?”
Myheartliterallystopsbeatingwhenshestartswigglingoutofherleggings.
Thematerialsnagsonherknees,elicitingaloudgroanfromher.“Garrett!”
Ihavetochuckle.Takingpityonher,Ileanintohelpherout,peelingthepantsoffherlegsanddoingmybesttoignorethesmooth,silkyskinbeneathmyfingertips.
“Thereyougo,”Isaythickly.“Better?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”Shereachesforthehemofhershirt.
SweetJesus.
Itearmygazeoffherandstumbletowardmydressertofindhersomethingtosleepin.IgrabanoldT-shirt,takeadeepbreath,andturnaroundtofaceher.
Hershirtisoff.
Fortunately,she’swearingabra.
Unfortunately,thebraisblackandlacyandsee-through,andIhaveaperfectviewofhernipplesbehindthattransparentfabric.
Don’tlook.She’sdrunk
Iheedthesterninternalvoiceandforbidmygazefromlingering.Andsincethere’snowayinhellIcantakeoffherbrawithoutcominginmypants,IshovetheT-shirtoverherheadandhopeshe’snotoneofthosegirlswhohatessleepinginherbra.
“Ihadsomuchfuntonight,”Hannahbabbleshappily.“See?ImightbebrokenbutIcanstillhavefun.”
Ifreeze.“What?”
Butshedoesn’tanswer.Herbarelegskickattheblanketandthensheslidesbeneathit,rollingoveronhersidewithatinysigh.
Shepassesoutwithinseconds.
IbattlearushofuneaseasIturnoffthelight.She’sbroken?Whatthehelldoesthatmean?
Frowning,Islipoutofthebedroomandquietlyclosethedoorbehindme.Hannah’scrypticwordscontinuetoechoinmyhead,butIdon’thavetheopportunitytodwellonthembecausewhenIgodownstairs,LoganandDeanwastenotimedraggingmeintothekitchenforaroundofshots.
“It’shisbirthday,dude,”LogansayswhenIobject.“You’vegottatakeashot.”
Icaveinandaccepttheshotglass.Thethreeofusclinkourglassestogether,sluggingbackthewhiskey.Thealcoholburnsmythroatandheatsmystomach,andIwelcomethehotbuzzthatfloatsthroughmybody.Thiswholenight,I’vebeen…off.Thatstupidsong.Hannah’stearsatthebar.Theconfusingwayshemakesmefeel.
I’mrawandonedge,andwhenLoganpoursmeanotherdrink,thistimeIdon’tobject.
Afterthethirdshot,I’mnolongerthinkingabouthowconfusedIam.
Afterthefourthone,I’mnotthinkingatall.
It’stwothirtyinthemorningwhenIfinallydragmydrunkenassupstairs.Thepartyhasallbutfizzled.OnlyDean’spuckbunniesremain,lyingonthecouchwithhiminatangleofbarearmsandlegs.IpassthekitchenandspotTuckerasleepatthecounter,hishandstillcurledaroundanemptybeerbottle.Loganhaddisappearedintohisbedroomawhileagowithacutebrunette,andasIwalkpasthisroom,Ihearthekindofgroansandmoansthattellmehe’sVBF
MybedroomisbathedinshadowswhenIwalkinside.Iblinkafewtimes,andmyeyesadjusttothedarknesstofindaHannah-shapedlumponthebed.I’mtootiredtobrushmyteethorfollowmyownhangover-preventionregimen—IjuststriptomyboxersandclimbinnexttoHannah.
ItrytobeasquietaspossibleasIgetcomfortable,buttherustlingofthesheetscausesHannahtostir.Asoftmoanripplesthroughthedarkness,andthensherollsoverandawarmhandpressesagainstmybarechest.
Istiffen.Orrather,mychestdoes.Downbelow,I’msofterthanpudding.That’swhiskeydickforyou,whichisdamnsadconsideringIonlyhadfiveshots.Man.Meandalcoholreallydon’tmix.
EvenifIwantedtotakeadvantageofHannahrightnow,I’dbetotallyuseless.Andshit,that’satotallyrepulsivethingtothink,becauseI’dnevertakeadvantageofher.I’dripmyowndickoffbeforeforcingmyselfonsomeone.
Butapparentlythere’sonlyonepersonwithhonorableintentionsinthisbedtonight
Mypulsespeedsupwhensoftlipslatchontomyshoulder.
“Hannah…”Isaywarily.
There’sabeatofsilence.Apartofmepraysthatshe’sasleep,butHannahshootsdownthathopebymurmuring,“Uh-huh?”Hervoiceisthroaty,andsexyasfuck.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iwhisper.
Herlipsmeanderfrommyshouldertomyneck,andthenshesucksonmysuddenlyfeverishflesh,findingasweetspotthatsendsazingofheatstraighttomyballs.Jesus.Mycockmightnotbeworkingproperlyrightnow,butthatdoesn’tmeanI’mincapableoffeelingarousal.Andholyhell,there’snowordtodescribehowarousedIamasHannah’sgreedymouthexploresmynecklikeshe’ssamplingadamnbuffet.
Ismotheragroan,touchinghershouldertostillher.“Youdon’twanttodothis.”
“Nuh-uh.You’rewrong.Itotallydo.”
ThegroanI’vebeenholdingrumblesoutassheclimbsontopofme.Herfirmthighsstraddlemine.Herhairticklesmycollarboneassheleansforward.
Myhearttakesoffinafast,poundinggallop.
“Stopbeingdifficult,”shetellsme.
Thenshekissesme.
Ohhell
Ishouldstopher.Ireally,reallyshould.Butshe’swarmandsoftandshesmellssogoodIcan’tfuckingthinkstraight.Hermouthmoveseagerlyovermine,andIkissherbackhungrily,wrappingmyarmsaroundherandstrokingherlowerbackasourlipsmoldtogether.Shetasteslikepi?acoladas,andshemakesthesexiestsoundsI’veeverheardasshetakesdeeppullsonmytonguelikeshecan’tgetenough.
“Hannah,”Imumbleagainsthereagerlips.“Wecan’t.”
Shelicksmybottomlip,thenbitesithardenoughtosummonagrowlfrommythroat.Fuck.Fuck,fuck,fuck.Ineedtoderailthislusttrainbeforeithurtlestothepointofnoreturn
“Iloveyourchest,”shebreathes,andholyhell,nowshe’srubbingherbreastsagainstmypecsandIcanfeelhernipplespokingrightthroughhershirt.
Iwanttoripthatfuckingshirtoff.Iwanttodrawthosepuckerednipplesdeepintomymouthandsuck.ButIcan’t.Iwon’t
“No.”Ithrustmyhandinherhairandbunchitbetweenmyfingers.“Wecan’tdothis.Nottonight.”
“ButIwantto,”shewhispers.“Iwantyousobad.”
She’sjustutteredthewordseveryguywantstohear—Iwantyousobad—butdamnit,she’sdrunkandIcan’tletherdothis.
Hertonguecirclesmyearlobeandmyhipsshootoffthebed.OhJesus.Iwanttobeinsideher.
Ittakessuperhumanstrengthonmyparttopushheroffmybody.Shewhimpersinprotest,butwhenIgentlytouchhercheek,thewhimperturnsintoahappysigh.
“Wecan’tdothis,”Isaygruffly.“Youtrustedmetolookoutforyou,remember?Well,thisismelookingoutforyou.”
Ican’tseeherexpressioninthedark,butshesoundssurprisedasshesays,“Oh.”ThenshenestlescloserandIinstantlytense.I’mpreparedtolaydownthelawagain,butshesimplysnugglesagainstmybodyandrestsherheadonmychest.“Okay.Goodnight.”
Okay?Goodnight?
DoessheactuallythinkI’llbeabletosleepafterwhatjusthappened?
Butshe’snotthinkingatall.Nope,she’soutlikealightagain,andashersteadybreathingticklesmynipple,Iswallowanothergroanandclosemyeyes,doingmybesttoignorethehotlustpulsatinginmygroin.
It’salong,longtimebeforeIfallasleep.22
HANNAH
IwakeupinGarrettGraham’sarmsforthesecondtimeintwoweeks.Exceptthistime…Iwanttobethere.
Lastnightturnedouttobeaseriesofeye-openingexperiences.Idrankinpublicwithouthavingapanicattack.IwasforcedtoacceptthattherapescrewedmeupalotmorethanIletmyselfadmit.
AndIdecidedthatGarrettistheanswertoallmyproblems.
Myseductionattemptmighthavefailed,butitwasn’tbecauseofalackofdesireonGarrett’spart.Iknowexactlywhatwasgoingthroughhismind—Hannah’sdrunkandnotthinkingclearly
Buthe’swrong.
Mybrainwassharpasatacklastnight.IkissedGarrettbecauseIwantedto.Iwould’vesleptwithhimbecauseIwantedto.
Now,inthelightofday,Istillwantit.SeeingDevonleftmefeelingscaredanduncertain.ItmademequestionwhatwouldhappenifIgotinvolvedwithJustin.MademewonderifI’msimplyinvitingmorefrustrationanddisappointmentintomylife.
Asinsaneasitsounds,atestrunwithGarrettmightbejustwhatIneedtoworkthroughmyissues.Hesaidsohimself—hedoesn’tdategirls,hesleepswiththem.There’snoriskofhimfallinginlovewithmeordemandingarelationship.Andit’snotlikewedon’thaveanychemistry.WehavesomuchofitwecouldinspireanentireR&Bsong
Itwouldbetheperfectarrangement.Icouldhavesexwithaguywithoutgettingboggeddownbyalltherelationshippressure.WithDevon,mysexissuesweremadeahundredtimesworsebecauseofthatpressure,becausethesexpartwastangledupwiththelovepart.
WithGarrett,itcanbejustaboutthesex.TryingtoputthepiecesofmysexualitybacktogetherwithoutworryingaboutdisappointingsomeoneIlove.
Butfirst,Ineedhimtoagreetoit
“Garrett,”Imurmur.
Hedoesn’tstir.
Iscoochcloserandstrokehischeek.Hiseyelidsflutter,buthedoesn’twakeup.
“Garrett,”Isayagain.
“Mmmmfhrhghd?”
Hisgibberishmakesmesmile.Ileaninandpressmylipstohis.
Hiseyesflyopen.
“Morning,”Isayinnocently.
Heblinksinrapidsuccession.“DidIdreamthatordidyoureallyjustkissme?”heasksgroggily.
“Youdidn’tdreamit.”
Confusionfogshiseyes,buthe’sgrowingmorealert.“Why?”
“BecauseIfeltlikeit.”Isitupandtakeabreath.“Areyouone-hundredpercentawake?Becausethere’ssomethingreallyimportantIneedtoaskyou.”
Ahugeyawnovertakeshisfaceasheslidesintoanuprightposition.Theblanketfallstohiswaistandhisbarechestisrevealed,andmymouthpromptlygoesdry.He’scutlikeadiamond.Hardedgesandgleamingskinandpuremasculinity.
“What’sup?”hesaysinasleep-gravellyvoice.
There’sabsolutelynowaytophrasethiswithoutsoundingdesperateandpathetic,soIsimplyblurtoutthewordsandletthemhangintheair.
“Willyouhavesexwithme?”
Afterthelongestpauseimaginable,Garrettwrinkleshisforehead.“Now?”
Despitetheembarrassmenttighteningmystomach,Ican’tstopthelaughthatpopsout.“Um,no.Notnow.”Callmevain,butIrefusetohavesexwithanyonewhenIhavemorningbreathandbedhead,andhaven’tshavedanypertinentareas.“Maybetonight,though?”
Garrett’sexpressionislikeaWheelofFortunespin,goingfromshockedtoincreduloustomystified,inchingtowardintriguedbeforefinallylandingonsuspicious.“Ithinkthismightbeaprank,butIcan’tfigureoutwhereyou’regoingwithit.”
“It’snotaprank.”Imeethisgazehead-on.“Iwantyoutohavesexwithme.”Okay,wait,thatsoundswrong.“Imean,Iwanttohavesexwithyou.Iwantustohavesexwitheachother.”
Hislipstwitch.
Wonderful.He’stryingnottolaughatme.
“Areyoustilldrunk?”heasks.“Becauseifyouare,Ipromisetoplaytheraregentlemancardandneverbringupthisconversationagain.”
“I’mnotdrunk.I’mserious.”Ishrug.“Doyouwanttoorwhat?”
Garrettstaresatme.
“Well?”Iprompt.
Hisdarkeyebrowsknittogetherinafrown.It’sprettyobvioushehasnoideawhattomakeofmyrequest.
“It’sasimpleyesornoanswer,Garrett.”
“Simple?”heburstsout.“Areyoukiddingme?There’snothingsimpleaboutthis.”Herunsahandthroughhishair.“AreyouforgettingwhatyoutoldmeatMaxwell’sparty?Thekissmeantnothing,we’rejustfriends,blah,blah.”
“Ididnotsayblahblah,”Igrumble.
“Butyousaideverythingelse.”Hisjawhardens.“Whatthehellchangedfromthentonow?”
Iswallow.“Idon’tknow.Ijustchangedmymind.”
“Why?”
“BecauseIdid.”Aggravationpricksmychest.“Whatdoesitmatter?Sincewhendoguyscross-examineagirlabouthermotivesforwantingtogetnaked?”
“Sinceyou’renotthekindofgirlwhogetsnaked!”hesputters.
Iclenchmyteeth.“I’mnotavirgin,Garrett.”
“You’renotapuckbunnyeither.”
“SothatmeansI’mnotallowedtosleepwithaguyI’mattractedto?”
Herakesbothhandsoverhisscalpnow,lookingequallyaggravated.Thenhetakesabreath,exhalesslowly,andmeetsmyeyes.“Okay,here’sthedeal.Ibelieveyou’reattractedtome.Imean—one,whoisn’t?Andtwo,youmoanlikecrazywhenevermytongue’sinyourmouth.”
Ibristle.“Idonot.”
“Agreetodisagree.”Hefoldshissleek,musculararmsoverhissleek,muscularchest.“ButIdon’tbelievethatyouunderwentsomemagicaltransformationwheresuddenlyyouwanttojumpmybonesjustforthehellofit.Youknow,forfunsies.”Hisheadtiltsthoughtfully.“Whatisit,then?Doyouwanttogetbackatyourexorsomething?MakeLoverboyjealousagain?”
“No,”Isaystiffly.“Ijust…”Frustrationslamsinsideme.“Ijustwanttodoit,okay?Iwanttodoyou.”
Hisexpressionisapeculiarcombinationofamusedandannoyed.“Why?”heasksagain.
“BecauseIwantto,damnit.Whydoesthereneedtobesomedeep,philosophicalmeaningbehindit?”ButIcanseefromhisfacethatIhaven’tconvincedhim,andI’msmartenoughtoknowwhentoadmitdefeat.“Youknowwhat?Forgetit.ForgetIasked—”
HegrabsholdofmyarmbeforeIcanhopoffthebed.“Whatthehellisgoingon,Wellsy?”
Theconcerninhiseyeshurtsmorethanhisrejection.Ipracticallybeggedhimforsexandhelooksworriedforme.
God,Ican’tevenpropositionaguyright.
“Forgetit,”Imutteragain.
“No.”
Iyelpwhenhesuddenlypullsmeontohislap.
“We’renothavingthisconversationanymore,”IprotestasItrytoscrambleoffhim.
Heplantshishandsonmywaisttotrapmeinplace.“Yes,weare.”
Hisgrayeyesboreintomyface,searching,probing,andI’mmortifiedtofeeltearsprickingmyeyelids.
“What’sthisabout?”hesaysgruffly.“Tellmewhat’swrong,andI’lltrytohelp.”
Ahystericalgigglefliesoutofmymouth.“No,youwon’t!Ijustaskedforyourhelpandyoushotmedown!”
Helooksevenmorebewilderedthanbefore.“Youdidn’taskmeforhelp,Hannah.Youaskedmetofuckyou.”
“Samedamnthing,”Imumble.
“Forfuck’ssake,Ihavenofrickin’ideawhatyou’retalkingabout!”Heinhalesslowlyasiftryingtocalmhimselfdown.“IsweartoGod,ifyoudon’ttellmewhatyou’rebabblingaboutinthenexttwoseconds,I’mgoingtolosemyshit.”
Miserylodgesinmythroat.IwishIneveropenedmymouthandaskedhim.IshouldhavejustsnuckoutofhisroomwhilehesleptandpretendedthatIneverthrewmyselfathimlastnight.
ButthenGarrettreachesupandstrokesmycheekwithinfinitetenderness,andsomethinginsidemecracksopen.
Iletoutashakybreath.“I’mbroken,andIwantedyoutofixme.”
Alarmwidenshiseyes.“I…stilldon’tunderstand.”
Notmanypeopleknowaboutwhathappenedtome.Imean,it’snotlikeIgoaroundadvertisingthatIwasrapedtoeveryoneImeet.Ihavetotrustsomeoneimplicitlyinordertoconfesssomethingsomonumental.
IfyoutoldmeafewweeksagothatIwouldbeconfidinginGarrettGrahamaboutthemosttraumaticexperienceofmylife,Iwould’vepeedmypantslaughing.
AndnowhereIam,doingjustthat.
“IliedtoyouatBeau’sparty,”Iadmit.
Hishanddropsfrommyface,buthisgazestayslockedonmine.“Okay…”
“Idon’tknowanyonewhowasdruggedinhighschool.”Mythroatclosesup.“Iwastheonewhogotdruggedinhighschool.”
Garrett’sbodygoesrigid.“What?”
“WhenIwasfifteenyearsold,aguyIwenttoschoolwithdruggedme.”Igulpdowntheacidcoatingmywindpipe.“Andthenherapedme.”
Ashockedbreathhissesoutofhismouth.Althoughhedoesn’tsayaword,Icanclearlyseethetensesetofhisjaw,thehotfuryinhiseyes.
“Itwas…it…well,shit,I’msureyoucanimaginehowawfulitwas.”Iswallowagain.“But…Pleasedon’tfeelsorryforme,okay?Itwasawfulandterrifyinganditdestroyedmeatthetime,butIworkedthroughit.I’mnotscaredofallmen,orangryattheworld,oranyofthatstuff.”
Garrettsaysnothing,buthisexpressionisfiercerthanI’veeverseenit
“I’veputitbehindme.Ireallyhave.Butitbrokesomethinginsideme,okay?Ican’t…Ican’t…youknow.”MycheeksaresohotitfeelslikeI’vecomedownwithsunstroke.
Hefinallyspeaks,hisvoicecomingoutlowandtortured.“No,Idon’tknow.”
I’malreadyinthisdeep,soIforcemyselftoclarify.“Ican’thaveanorgasmwithaguy.”
Garrettgulps.“Oh.”
Ipressmylipstogether,tryinghardtotampdowntheembarrassmentclimbingupmythroat.“Ithoughtthatmaybeifyouandme…ifwe…youknow,fooledaroundabit,Imightbeableto…Idon’tknow…reprogrammybodyto…um,respond.”
OhGod.Thewordsarestutteringoutbeforemybraincaneditthem,andmyfacegoesupinflamesasIrealizehowpitifulIsound.TherealizationthatI’veofficiallyreachedtherockbottomequivalentofsheerhumiliationunleashesmytears.
Asastrangledsobtearsoutofmymouth,IattemptafranticscrambleoffGarrett’slap,buthisarmstightenaroundme,onehandtanglinginmyhairtobringmyheadcloser.Iburymyfaceinhisneck,tremblingwildlyastearsslidedownmycheeksinsaltywaves.
“Hey,comeon,don’tcry,”hebegs.“Itbreaksmyfuckinghearttohearyoucry.”
ButIcan’tstop.Igulpforairandshudderinhisarms,andhestrokesmyhairandmakesrough,soothingnoisesthatonlymakemecryharder.
“I’mbroken.”
Myvoiceismuffledagainsthisneck,butIhearhisvoiceloudandclearashesays,“You’renotbroken,baby.Ipromise.”
“Thenhelpmeproveit,”Iwhisper.“Please.”
Hegentlypullsmyheadup.Imeethisgazeandfindnothingbutrawemotionandshiningsincerity.
“Okay,”hewhispersback.Thenheletsoutalong,unsteadybreath.“Okay.Iwill.”23
GARRETT
Halftheguysintheweightroomarehungoverashell.I,surprisingly,amnotoneofthem.Nope,thismorning’srevelationsprettymuchzappedawayanyheadacheorqueasinessImighthavefelt.
Hannahwasraped.
ThosethreewordshavebeenrunningthroughmyheadsinceIdroppedheroffatherdorm,andeverytimetheypopup,red-hotfuryblaststhroughmelikeafreighttrain.Iwishshe’dtoldmehisname,hisphonenumber,hisfuckingaddress
Butit’sbetterthatshehadn’t,otherwiseI’dprobablybeinmycarrightnowonmywaytocommitmurder.
Whoeverhewas,IhopetoGodhepaidforwhathedidtoHannah.IhopetoGodhe’srottinginjailatthemoment.Orbetteryet,Ihopehe’sfuckingdead.
“Twomore.”LoganloomsovermeasIlieonthebenchpress.“Comeon,man,you’reslacking.”
Iblowoutabreathandcurlmyfingersaroundthebarbell.Ichannelallmyrageintoheavingtheweightsovermyhead,asLoganspotsmefromabove.OnceIfinishthelastsetofreps,hedropsthebarintherackandsticksouthishand.Iallowhimtohaulmetomyfeetandweswitchplaces.
Christ,Ineedtogetmyheadonright.Thankfuckwe’renotontheicetodaybecauseI’mnotsureIevenrememberhowtoskateatthemoment.
Hannahwasraped
Andnowshewantstohavesexwithme
No,shewantsmetofixher.
HolymotherofGod.WhatwasIthinking,agreeingtodothis?I’vewantedhernakedeversincethatfirstkiss,butnotlikethis.Notassomekindofsexualityexperiment.NotwhenI’mfeelingthismuchpressureto…towhat?Makeitgoodforher?Notletherdown?
“Anytimenow,”comesLogan’smockingvoice.
Isnapoutofmydistressedthoughtsandrealizethathe’swaitingformetodropthebarbellintohisoutstretchedhands.
Takingabreath,IforcemyselftofocusonmakingsureLogandoesn’tdieonmywatchratherthanobsessingoverHannah.
“SoI’mpissedatyou,”hetellsmeashebendshisarmsandbringsthebarlowtohischest.Thenhegruntsoutabreathandlifts.
“WhatdidIdonow?”Iaskwithasigh.
“Youtoldmeyouweren’tinterestedinWellsy.”
Mychesttenses,butIpretendtobeunfazedasIcountouthisset.“Iwasn’t,atleastnotwhenyouandItalkedaboutitbefore.”
Logangruntswitheachupwardextensionofhisarms.We’rebothliftingtwentypoundslessthanusualbecauselastnight’sdrinkfestmeansneitheroneofusisoperatingatahundredpercenttoday.
“So,what,nowyouareinterested?”
Iswallow.“Yeah.IguessIam.”
Logandoesn’tsayanythingelse.Myfingershoverbeneaththebarbellashefinisheshisreps.
Ikeepacloseeyeontheclockabovetheweightroomdoor.It’salmostfive.Hannahfinishesworkatten,andthenshe’scomingstraightovertomyplace.
Sowecanhavesex.
Thepressureinmygutgathersinstrength,tighteningintoamassiveknot.IhavenoideaifIcandothis.I’mterrifiedofdoingsomethingwrong.Hurtingher.
“I’mnotsurprisedyousawtheerrorofyourways,”Loganfinallysaysaswetradeplacesagain.“She’sprettydamncool.IknewthatfromthemomentImether.”
Yeah,Hannahiscool.She’salsobeautifulandsmartandfunny
Andshe’snotbroken.
ThetightnessinmystomacheasesasIclingtothatlastthought.That’swhyIagreedtosleepwithher,becausenomatterwhathappenedtoherinthepast,nomatterhowmanyscarsshestillbearsfromthatordeal,IknowwithoutashredofdoubtthatHannahWellsisnotbroken.She’stoostrongtoallowanyone—especiallyapieceofshithighschoolrapist—tobreakher.
No,whatshe’slackingistheabilitytotrust,andtosomeextent,confidence.Shejustneedssomeoneto…guideher,forlackofabetterword.
Butshit,canthatsomeonereallybeme?Idon’tknowthefirstthingabouttheetiquetterequiredforsleepingwitharapevictim.
“Soanyway,maybeI’mnotpissedthatyoubeatmetoit,”Logantellsme.
Ishoothimafaintsmile.“Gee,thanks.”
Hegrinsback.“Withthatsaid,IrequestanexemptionfromthepartofthebrocodethatstatesIcan’tdatesomeoneafteryou’vebrokenupwithher.”
Myfingersstiffenonthebar.Fuckthat.ThethoughtofLoganhookingupwithHannahmakesmewanttogoHe-Manonthebarbellandhurlitacrossthegym.Butatthesametime,I’mprettysurethereisn’tachanceinhellofHannahdatingLogan,especiallynowthatIknowaboutherhang-ups.
SoIshrugcasuallyandsay,“Exemptiongranted.”
“Good.NowI’maddingtenpoundstothismotherfucker,because,really,G,we’rebetterthanthis.”
Thenextthirtyminutesflyby.Theroomemptiesoutastheotherguysheadfortheshowers,butwhenIseethatBirdieisstillrockingchin-upsacrosstheroom,Imakemywayovertohim.
“Hey,man,gotasec?”Icallout,wipingmysweatyforeheadwithatowel
Heletsgoofthebar,andhissneakerslandonthebluegymmat.Thenhegrabshisowntowel.“Sure.What’sup?”
Ihesitate.Hockeyplayersaren’tknownforhavinggirlyheart-to-hearts.Mostofthetime,weindulgeinlockerroomtalkorshootinsultsbackandforth,withtherareseriousconvothrownintothemix.
Jake“Birdie”Berderonistheexceptiontothatrule.Thetall,intensesenioristheoneyouseekoutforadvice,theoneyoucallwhenyou’reinajam,theonewho’ddropwhateverhewasdoingjusttohelpyouout.Lastseason,afterhalfourseniorsgraduatedandnominationsforteamcaptainwerebeingtossedaround,ItoldBirdiethatifhewantedthejob,I’dbackhimonehundredpercent.Heshotmedown,insistingthathesucksatpeptalksandwouldratherskatethanlead,buthonestly,deepdownIknowthatBirdieisourrealleader.Youwon’teverfindabettermanthanhim.Nojoke.
Iglanceattheopendoorway,thenlowermyvoice.“Thishastostaybetweenus,okay?”
Awrygrinliftshislips.“Dude,ifyouknewhowmanysecretsarefloatingaroundinthisthickskullofmine,you’dfreak.Trustme,Iknowhowtokeepmymouthshut.”
Isinkontothelongwoodenbenchagainstthewallandrestmyhandsonmyknees.Idon’tknowwheretostart,butIdoknowIcan’ttellhimthetruth.That’ssomethingonlyHannahhastherighttoshare.
“Haveyoueversleptwithavirgin?”Ihedge.
Heblinks.“Uh.Okay.Well,yeah.Ihave.”Birdiesitsbesideme.“Betweenyouandme?”hesays.
“Ofcourse.”
“Natwasavirginwhenwefirsthookedup.”NatisactuallyNatalie,Birdie’sgirlfriendsincefreshmanyear.Thetwoofthemareoneofthose“it”couplesthateveryonemakesfunofforbeingsonauseatinglyperfecttogetherwhilesecretlyenvyingtheirrelationship.
Ihavetoask,“Wereyou?”
Hegrins.“Naah.IpunchedinmyV-cardatfifteen.”
Fifteen.That’showoldHannahwaswhenshe…Isuddenlywonderifthathadbeenherfirsttime,andhorrorclawsupmythroat.Jesus.Losingyourvirginityisahugedealforsomechicks—Ican’tevenimaginewhat’ditfeellikehavingittakenfromyou.
“Why?You’vegotadatewithahotvirgin?”Birdieteases.
“Somethinglikethat.”ConsideringhemetHannahlastnightatMalone’s,I’msureBirdieisputtingtwoandtwotogetherinhishead,butIknowhewon’tblababoutthistoanyone.
AndIfigurethisvirginstoryissaferthanutteringthewordsrapevictim.Becausereally,theapproachtosleepingwiththeformercan’tbeallthatdifferentfromdoingitwiththelatterInbothinstances,youneedtobepatientandrespectfulandthorough,right?
“SowhatdidyoudoforNat’sfirsttime?”Iaskawkwardly.
“Honestly?Ijusttriedtomakehercomfortable.”Birdieshrugs.“She’snotintoallthatmushyshit,likeflowersandcandlesandrosepetalsalloverthebed.Shedidn’twantittobeabigdeal.”Anothershrug.“Somegirlsdowanttomakeabigproductionouttait,though.Soinyourcase,Ithinkthefirstthingyouneedtodoisfigureoutwhatkindofgirlsheis.Low-keyormegaromantic.”
IthinkaboutHannahandallthepressureshe’sundertobe“normal”—whichisprobablyamilliontimesworsethanthepressureI’mfeelingatthemoment—andIimmediatelyknowtheanswer.
“Low-key,definitely.Ithinkcandlesandrosepetalswouldmakehernervous.”
Birdietipshishead.“Thenjustgoslowandmakesureshe’scomfortable.That’stheonlyadviceIcangiveyou.”Hepauses.“Andincludelotsofforeplay,dude.Chicksneedthatshit.Gotit?”
Ichuckle.“Yes,sir.”
“Anymorequestions?BecauseIstinktohighheaven,andIdesperatelyneedashower.”
“Naah,that’sit.Thanks,man.”
Birdieslapsmeontheshoulderandrisestohisfeet.“Don’tstresstoomuchaboutit,G.Sexissupposedtobefun,remember?”Thenhewinksandlumbersoutoftheweightroom.
Don’tstress?Jeez,howcanInot?
Igroanoutloud,gratefulthatnobodyisaroundtohearthepanickysound.
Makehercomfortable.Goslow.Lotsofforeplay.Don’tstress.
Okay.Icandothat.
OratleastIdamnwellhopeIcan.24
HANNAH
IalmostthrowupthreetimesonthewayovertoGarrett’s,butIchokebackthenervesbecauseI’mdrivingTracy’scar,andthelastthingIwanttodoispaytohavemyvomitscrubbedoffherupholstery.
Ihonestlydon’trememberasecondofmyfive-hourshiftatDella’s.Ormyone-hourrehearsalwithCassearlier.OrhowIgotfromoneplacetotheothertoday.I’vebeenonautopilotsinceIleftGarrett’sbedroomearlier,everyconsciousthoughtfocusedonwhatI’mabouttodotonight.
DidImentionI’mnervous?
Ishouldn’tbe,though.It’sjustsex.It’ssexwithaguyI’mattractedto,aguyIgenuinelylikeandtrust.
Myhandsshouldn’tbetremblingthisbadly,andmyheartshouldn’tbebeatingthisfast.Andyetintertwinedwiththenervousnessisasenseofexcitement.Anticipation.I’mevenwearingmatchingbraandpantiesbeneathmywaitressinguniform.Yep,youknowyou’reabouttohavesexwhenyou’rerockingblacklacetopandbottom,andyourskinissilkysmoothandreadytobetouched.
Garrett’sroommatesaren’thomewhenIwalkintothehouse.Unlessthey’reholedupintheirbedrooms,butIdon’tthinktheyarebecausethere’snothingbutsilenceintheupstairshallwayasIheadtowardGarrett’sroom.
IwonderifGarrettorderedthemtodisappear.ThenIhopehedidn’t,because…well,that’slikeholdingupaneonsignannouncingthatheandIaregettingitontonight
“Hey,”hesayswhenIwalkin.
Myheartsimultaneouslydoesanervoussomersaultandanappreciativeflip.Icantellhetookthetimetogetreadybecausehishairisstillslightlydampfromtheshower,andhisfaceiscompletelyclean-shaven.Iglanceathisblacktrackpantsandtightgrayundershirt,thenatmygarishuniform.ThankstothejitterystateI’vebeeninallday,Iforgottobringachangeofclothes.
Thenagain,weprobablywon’tbewearingclothesformuchlonger.
“Hey.”Igulp.“So…howdoyouwanttodothis?ShouldItakemyclothesoff?”Ipauseassomethingoccurstome.“Don’tyoudareaskmetodoastriptease,becauseI’mnervousenoughasitisandthere’snowayIcandanceevenremotelysexyrightnow.”
Garrettburstsoutlaughing.“Youhavenoideahowtosetamood,doyou,Wellsy?”
Imoanmiserably.“Iknow.I’mjust…nervous,”Ireiterate.Takingabreath,Iwipemyclammypalmsonthefrontofmyskirt.“Canwejustgetstarted?You’restandingthereandlookingatme,andit’sfreakingmeout.”
Heapproacheswithaquietchuckle,cuppingmychininhishands.“First,relax—there’snothingtobenervousabout.Second,Idon’texpect,orparticularlywant,astriptease.”Hewinks.“Atleastnottonight.Andthird,we’renotstartinganythingrightnow.”
Ibattleapangofdisappointment.“We’renot?”
GarretttossesmethesameT-shirtIsleptinlastnight.“GochangeoutofthatGreasecostumeandputthison.I’llgetthenextepisodeready.”HewandersovertotheTVandpicksuptheremotecontrol.
“YouwanttowatchTV?”Isayincredulously.
“Yup.”
Mymouthopens.Thencloses.Butitstaysclosed,becauseIsuddenlyrealizewhathe’sdoing,andIwhole-heartedlyappreciateit.
He’stryingtoputmeatease.
It’sworking.
Iduckintothebathroomtochange,returningamomentlatertojoinGarrettonthebed.Heinstantlyputshisarmaroundmeandpullsmecloser,andhisfamiliarmasculinescentrelaxesme.
“Ready?”hesayslightly,holdinguptheremote.
Ifindmyselfsmiling.“Yep.”
Theepisodefillsthescreen,andIleanmyheadagainsthisshoulderasIfocusontheTV.Liketheothertimeswe’vewatchedthisshowtogether,neitherofussaymuchasidefromtheoccasionalgaspfrommeorapredictionfromhim,butunlikethoseothertimes,I’monlyhalfpayingattention.Garrettrubshispalmovermyshoulderinalight,teasingcaressthatmakesitincrediblyhardtoconcentrateontheTV.
Halfwaythroughtheepisode,heleansinandkissesmyneck.
Idon’tsayaword,butaninvoluntarysighslipsout.Goosebumpsriseinthespothislipshavetouched,andwhenherestsonebighandonmybarethigh,ajoltofheatsingesmyskin.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Imurmur.
Hislipstravelalongthelengthofmyneck.“Settingthemood.”Henipsatmyearlobe.“Unlikesomepeople,Ihappentoknowhowtodothat.”
Istickmytongueoutathimeventhoughhecan’tseeit.He’stoobusytormentingmewithhismouth,plantingwet,open-mouthedkissesonthesideofmythroat.
Arousalstartsdeepinmycoreandspreadsoutward,dancingthroughmybodyandtinglinginallmyerogenouszones.Everytimehislipskissanewpatchofskin,Ishiverwithpleasure.Whenhistongueticklesmyjaw,Iturnmyheadtowardhimandourmouthsmeetinthehottestkissontheplanet.
IlovethewayGarrettkisses.It’snotsloppyorhurried,butskillfulandslowandabsolutelyincredible.Hislipsbrushmine,lazyandteasing,whilehistonguesneaksinsideeverysooftenforafleetingtastebeforeseductivelyretreating.Islantmyheadanddrivethekissdeeper,andImoanwhenthemintyflavorofhiminfusesmytongue.Amasculinerumblecomesfromthebackofhisthroat,andmybellyclenchesinresponse.
Hismouthstayslockedtomineashegentlypushesmeontomyback,settlingonhissidebesideme.OnewarmhandcupsmybreastoverthethinmaterialofmyT-shirt,andthezingofpleasuremakesmesqueakinjoy.
“TellmeifI’mgoingtoofast.”Hisdeepvoiceticklesmylips,andthenhistonguespearsthroughthemtofindmineagain
I’monsensoryoverload.He’skissingme,squeezingmybreasts,lightlyrubbingmynipplewithhisthumb,andeverythinghe’sdoingfeelssogoodIdon’tknowwhichsensationtofocuson.
Mypulsegoeshaywirewhenheglideshispalmdownmybody.HehesitateswhenhereachesthehemoftheT-shirt,thenmakesahuskysoundandslipshisfingersbeneathit.
Whenhishandmovesbetweenmylegs,Istopbreathing.
Whenhisfingerstouchmyclitorisovermypanties,Iwhimper.
Garrett’shandstills.“ShouldIstop?”
“God.No.Keepgoing.”
Araspychuckleleaveshismouth,andthenhishandbeginstomoveagain.JustwhenIthinkitcan’tfeelanybetter,heprovesmewrongbymovingasidethescrapoffabriccoveringmysexandpressinghisindexfingerdirectlyonmyclit.
MyhipsshootupasifI’vebeenstruckbylightning.“Oooh.Keepdoingthat.”
Herubstinycirclesaroundmysensitiveflesh,gentlebutfirm,beforeslidinghisfingerlowertoteasethemoisturepoolinginmycore.
Thegroanheletsoutracesupmyspine.“Ohfuck.You’resowet.”
Iam.Ireallyam.Andtheachebetweenmylegsisgettingworse,throbbingharderasripplesofpleasuredanceinsideme.I’mstunnedtofeelthetelltalesignsofimpendingorgasm.ThisistheclosestI’veevercometofeelinglikethis,butIgetdistractedwhenIregisterthehardridgepressingintomyhip.ThefeelofGarrett’shard-onrubbingupagainstmeissoeroticIcan’tthinkstraight.
I’mdesperatetotouchhim,andmyhandsmoveasifpossessed,slippingunderhiswaistbandandintohisboxers.
ThesecondIencounterhiserection,myjawdrops.
“OhmyGod,areyoukiddingme?”
Helooksstartled.“What’swrong?”
“Areyoutakinghumangrowthhormonesorsomething?”Isnatchmyhandback,fightinganotherrushofnervousness.“There’snowaythathugemanmonsterisfittinginsideme!”
Garrett’sheadabruptlydropsinthecrookofhisarmasashudderrackshisbody.AtfirstIthinkhe’spissedoff.Ormaybeevencrying.IttakesseveralsecondsbeforeIrealizewhat’shappening.He’slaughing
Scratchthat—he’sinhysterics
Hisbroadbackquakeswithlaughter,causingthemattresstovibratebeneathus.Whenhefinallyspeaks,hisvoiceiswheezyandbrokenbyloudguffaws.“Manmonster?”
“Stoplaughingatme.I’mserious,”Iinsist.“Imighthavebigboobsandagrabbableass,buthaveyouseenmyhips?Tinyandnarrow!Whichstandstoreasonthatmyladycanal—”
Ahowlripsoutofhismouth.“Ladycanal?”
“—isnarrowtoo.You’regoingtoripmeinhalf.”
Heraiseshisheadandtherearehonest-to-Godtearsinhiseyes.“Ithinkthat’sthenicestthingagirlhaseversaidtome,”hechokesout.
“It’snotfunny,okay?”
He’sstillwheezinglikecrazy.“Ittotallyis.”
“Youknowwhat?We’renotdoingthis.You’veofficiallykilledthemood.”
“Me?”hedemandsbetweenlaughs.“Youdidthatallbyyourself,baby.”
Isitupwithanannoyedgrumble.“Seriously,thiswasastupididea.”Sighing,Isearchthemattressfortheremotecontrol.“Let’sjustwatchtheshow.”
“Noway.We’realreadyinthisdeep.”Hisvoicebecomesgruff.“Givemeyourhand.”
Ieyehimsuspiciously.“Why?”
“BecauseIthinkifyougetbetteracquaintedwithmymanmonster,you’llseethatyoudon’thavetobeafraidofhim.”
Isnort,butthehumordieswhenGarretttakesmyhandandputsitdirectlyinsidehisboxers.
ThemoodIkilled?RoarsrightbacktolifeasIgingerlywrapmyfingersaroundhisshaft.He’slongandthickandpulsingbeneathmyfingertips,andthat’sallittakesformybodytotingleagain.
Igivehimatentativestroke,andhegroanssoftly.“See?It’sjustaregularoldpenis,Wellsy.”
Mythroatclosesupwithlaughter.“TherearesomanythingswrongwiththatsentenceIdon’tevenknowwheretostart.”Ipause.“Exactlyhowoldisyourpenis?”
“He’stwenty,likeme,”Garrettanswersseriously.“Buthe’swaymorematurethanIam.Whataboutyourladycanal?Isshewiserthanheryears,orisshe—”
Ishuthimupwithakiss.
Itisn’tlongbeforeI’mshiveringwithpleasureagain.Garrett’shandreturnstowhereIwantittobe.Somehowmypantiesdisappear,andonelongfingerslidesinsideme,makingmegasp.Myinnermusclesclamparoundhim,andaboltofheatsizzlesupmyspine.
Garrett’stonguefillsmymouth,hiserectionrockingintomyhand.I’veneverfeltmoreincontrol,moredesirable,becauseIknowI’mtheoneresponsibleforthoseroughsoundshe’smaking.Hebreaksthekisstonibbleonmyshoulder,andthesparkinmybodyburnshotter,soclosetodetonatingthatI’mmoaningloudernow.
ButthearousalextinguisheswhenIopenmyeyestofindhimwatchingme.
Thetinglesdisappear,andIstiffenbeneathhistouch.
“What’swrong?”hemurmurs.
“Nothing.”Iswallow.“Just…kissmeagain.”Iyankhisheaddownandpartmylipstowelcomehistongue.
Garrettstrokesmyclitwithdexteritythatawesme.It’slikeheknowsexactlyhowmuchpressuretoexert,whentorubfaster,whentoslowdown.Igrindintohistalentedhand,butwhenhegroansagain,thearousalfadesoncemore.
Igroantoo,frustrated.
“What’sgoingon,Wellsy?”Hisfingertipsskimovermysex.“Iknowyou’reintothis.Icanfeelit.”
“Iam.I…”Mythroatconstrictsashelplessnessrisesinsideit.“Igetclose,andthenit…itgoesaway.”I’mmortifiedtofeelthestingoftears.“That’swhatalwayshappens.”
“HowcanIgetyouthere?”hesaysintently.
“Idon’tknow.Justkeeptouchingme.Please.”
Hedoes,andohmyGod,he’ssogoodatit.Astwofingersmoveinsidemeinaslowglide,Ishutmyeyesagain,butitdoesn’tmatter.Icanstillfeelhimwatchingme.
JustlikeAarondidwhenhetookwhatIdidn’twanttogive.
Iwasfullyconsciousduringtherape.Sometimes,whenI’mdepressedorwallowinginself-pity,Iactuallycursethedrugsfornotknockingmeout.Daterapedrugsaresupposedtoknockyouout,damnit.I’mnotsupposedtorememberwhathappenedtome.IwishIdidn’tremember.
ButIdo.Thememoriesarehazierthannormalmemories,butthesightofAaron’swildeyeshasbeenbrandedintomybrain.IrememberlyingthereonMelissa’sparents’bed,feelinghisheavyweightontopofme,feelinghimthrustinginsideme,hardanddeepandpainful.ButitwaslikeIwasparalyzed.Myarmsandlegsdidn’tseemtowork,nomatterhowbadlyIwantedtohitorkickhim.MyvocalcordsfrozesoIcouldn’tgetasinglescreamout.AllIcoulddowasstareupatthosesmugbrowneyesthatwerelacedwithpleasureandflashingwithlust.
Theviciousmemoriesswarmmymindlikeabeeattack,stealingawaythelasttracesofdesireinsideme.IknowGarrettfeelsthechangeinmybody,thatI’mnolongerwarmandwetandpliant.ThatI’mstifferthanaboardandcolderthanice.
“Thisisn’tworking,”hesayshoarsely.
Isitup,fightinghardnottocry.“Iknow.I’msorry.It’sjust…you’re…you’relookingatme…and…”
Heoffersacrookedgrin.“WouldithelpifIclosemyeyes?”
“No,”Isaymiserably.“BecauseI’llknowyou’restillpicturingmeinyourhead.”
Withasigh,heslidesupandrestshisheadonthebedframe.He’sstillhard—Icanseehiserectionstrainingbeneathhistrackpants—butheseemsoblivioustohisownstateofarousalasheslowlymeetsmyeyes.“Youdon’ttrustme.”
I’mquicktodenyit.“Idotrustyou.Iwouldn’tbehereifIdidn’t.”
“Fine,I’llamendthat.Youdon’ttrustmeenoughtofullyletgo.”
Myteethsinkintomybottomlip.Iwanttotellhimhe’swrong,butapartofmedoesn’tthinkheis.
“Sexisallabouttrust,”hesays.“Evenifyoudon’tlovetheotherperson,evenifit’sjustahookup,itstilltakesaseriousamountoftrusttoopenyourselfupandletyourselfgotothatvulnerableplace,youknow?Andthere’snothingmorevulnerablethancoming.”Hismouthliftsinadrysmile.“Atleastthat’swhatmyGooglesearchtaughtme.”
“Youresearchedthis?”Iyell.
Embarrassmentreddenshischeeks.“Ihadto.I’veneversleptwithanyonewho’sbeen…youknow…”
“Iknow.”Ibitemylipevenhardertostopmyselffromburstingintotears.
“Afterwhathappenedtoyou,it’snotsurprisingthatyou’rescaredtoletyourselfbevulnerable.”Hehesitates.“Wereyouavirgin?”
Ipressmylipstogetherandnod.
“Yeah,Ithoughtso.”Garrettgoesquietforanotherbeat.“Ihaveanidea,ifyou’rewillingtohearit.”
Ican’ttalkbecauseI’mtooclosetotheI’m-gonna-bawl-my-eyes-outbrink,soIsettleforanothernod.
“Insteadofmegivingyouanorgasm,whydon’tyoutrytogiveonetoyourself?”
IthoughtI’dmaxedoutmyembarrassmentcreditcardtonight,butclearlythere’shumiliationlefttospare.“Idoitallthetime.”MycheeksareflamingasIavoidhiseyes.
“Infrontofme,”hecorrects.“Makeyourselfcomeinfrontofme.”Hepauses.“AndI’llmakemyselfcomeinfrontofyou.”
OhmyGod.
Ican’tbelievewe’reevenhavingthisdiscussion.Thathe’ssuggestingwepleasureourselvesinfrontofeachother.
“PleaseexcusemewhileIgohangmyself,”Imutter.“BecauseIamsomortifiedrightnow.”
“Youshouldn’tbe.”Hisgrayeyeshardenwithintensity.“It’llbeanexerciseintrust.Seriously,Ithinkitwillbegood.We’llbothbemakingourselvesvulnerable,andyou’llseethatthere’snothingtobeafraidof.”
BeforeIcanrespond,hehopsoffthebedandpeelshisshirtoverhishead.Then,withoutmissingabeat,heyankshispantsoffhiships.
Mybreathlodgesinmylungs.Ihadbeentouchinghiserectionbefore,butIhadn’tactuallyseenit.AndnowIamseeingit,andhe’slongandhardandperfect.Mybodytinglesatthesightofhisnakedbody,andwhenmygazeslidesuptomeethiseyes,Iglimpsenothingbuthealthydesireandsweetencouragementinthosesilverygraydepths.Nodirtylust,nogleamofpower,nosavageryormalevolence.
He’snotAaron.He’sGarrett,andhe’sputtinghimselfondisplayforme,showingmethatit’sokaytoletdownyourguard.
“Takeoffyourshirt,Hannah.Letmeseeyou.”Hegrins.“Ipromisenottoleertoohardatyourstrippertits.”
Anunwittingsmilespringstomylips.ButIstilldon’tmove.
“Showmewhatyoudotoyourselfwhenyou’realone,”hecoaxes.
“I…”Thelumpinmythroatistoobigtospeakpast.
Hisvoicegrowshoarseandseductive.“Showme,andI’llshowyou.”
Hewrapshisfistaroundhiscock,andamoanshuddersoutofmymouth.
Imeethisgaze,andsomethingaboutthecertaintyofhisexpressionspursmetoaction.MyfingersshakeuncontrollablyasIreachforthebottomofmyT-shirtanddragitovermyhead,leavingmeinnothingbutmybra.
ThenIdrawadeepbreathandtakethebraoff,too.25
GARRETT
I’veneverjerkedoffinfrontofagirlbefore.Imean,I’vegivenitastrokeortwobeforeputtingmycockinamoredesirableplacethanmyfist,butwhackingitfromstarttofinish?It’safirstforme.AndI’mnervous.
ButI’dbelyingifIsaidIalsowasn’tturnedonsomethingfierce.
Ican’tbelievethatHannahislyingnakedonmybed.She’sfuckingbeautiful.Herbodyissoftandcurvyinalltherightplaces.Herbreastsareabsoluteperfection,roundandperkyandtippedwithreddish-brownnipples.MygazelowerstothenarrowstripofhairbetweenherlegsandI’mdyingforhertopartthem.Iwanttoseeeveryinchofher
ButIdon’twanttocomeofflikeaperv,andIdon’twanttoscareheroff,soIkeepmymouthshut.I’mhardasarock,mycockthrobbinginmyfistasItrynottooglethesexynakedgirlonmybed.
“You’renottalking,”sheaccuses,hertonebothteasingandnervous.
“Idon’twanttoscareyouoff,”Isayhoarsely.
“Dude,you’restandingtherenakedinfrontofmewithyourdickinyourhand.Ifthatdoesn’tscareme,Idoubtanythingyousaywill.”
Goodpoint.Anddamnedifmydickdoesn’ttinglewhenshecallsmedude.Infact,everywordthatcomesoutofhermouthgetsmehot.
“Spreadyourlegs,”Itellher.“Iwanttoseeyou.”
Shehesitates.
Andthenshedoesit,andmybreathspiralsoutofmylungs.Fuckingperfection.She’spinkandprettyandglisteningandperfect.
I’mgoingtocomewaytoofast.It’safact.ButIdomydamnedesttoprolongtheinevitable.Istrokemyselfinapainfullyslowtempo,avoidingputtingpressureonthetipofmycock,ignoringthesweetspotunderneathit.
“ShowmewhatyouwoulddoifIwasn’there,”Imurmur.“Showmehowyou’dtouchyourself.”
Hercheeksturnthesweetestshadeofpink.Herlipsareparted,justslightly,butwideenoughthatifIpressedmymouthtohers,Icouldslidemytonguebetweenthepoutyseamandtasteher.Iwanttokisshersobadly,butIresisttheurge.Thismomentistoodelicatetoriskpanickingheragain.
Veryslowly,Hannahbringsherhandbetweenherlegs.
Ashockwaveofpleasureshuddersthroughme.“That’sit,Wellsy.Touchyourself.”
Onefingertipbrushesherclit.Sherubsit.Hertouchismeasured,exploratory,likeshe’stakingthetimetofindoutwhatfeelsgood.
Imatchherunhurriedpace.Mybodycravesrelease,butthisistooimportanttoblow.Literallyblow,becauseI’msofuckingcloseIhavetobreathethroughmynoseandclenchmyasscheekstostopfromexploding.
“Doesthatfeelgood?”Myvoicesoundslowandstrangledtomyears.
Hannahnods,hergreeneyeswideassaucers.Abreathynoiseslipsoutofhermouth,andIsuddenlyimaginethatmouthwrappedaroundmydick,andI’mdangerouslyclosetolosingit.Isnapintoemergencyjack-offmode,squeezingmyshafttightenoughtobringajoltofpain.
Hannahrubsherselfevenfaster,herotherhandskimmingupherbodytocuponefirmbreast.ShetoyswithhernipplebetweenherfingersandIbitebackagrowl.IwanttosuckonthatpuckeredbudmorethanIwantmynextbreath.
“Whatareyouthinkingabout,Wellsy?”Ivoicethequestionnotjustforhersake,butmine.Ineedadistraction.ASAP.
Hergazestaysgluedtothelazymovementofmyhand.“I’mthinkingaboutyou.”
Ohhell.Notthatkindofdistraction.
Mystrokesgetfasterasmyhandtakesonalifeofitsown.There’sanakedwomanonmybedandIcan’tfuckher.Ican’t,becausetonightisn’taboutme.It’saboutHannah.
“I’mthinkingabouthowsexyyouare,”shewhispers.“I’mthinkingabouthowmuchIwanttokissyouagain.”
Ialmostgotoherandgiveherwhatshewants,butI’mterrifiedthespellwillbebrokenifIdo.
“Whatelse?”Isaythickly.
Herhandleavesherbreastandtravelsoverherflatbelly,downtheedgeofherhips.God,she’stiny.Icouldprobablyspantheentirewidthofherwaistwithbothmyhands.
“I’mthinkingaboutyourfingersinsideme.”
I’mthinkingaboutthesamedamnthing,butIsatisfymyselfbywatchingherfingers.Shepushestwoofthemintoherpussy,whileherotherhandcontinuestotendtoherclit.Hercheeksareevenmoreflushednow.Soareherbreasts
Irealizeshe’sgettingclose,andthesatisfactionthatcoursesthroughmeislikenothingI’veeverexperienced.I’mdoingthistoher.I’mnottouchingher,butmypresenceisturningheron.
Ipumpmycock,squeezingtheheadoneveryupstroke.“I’mclose,”Iwarnher.
“Yeah?”
“Sofuckingclose.Idon’tthinkIcanholdoffformuchlonger.”ThenIcurseundermybreath,becauseIcanseethewetnesscoatingherfingerseverytimeshewithdrawsthem.I’mdyinghere.
“Metoo.”Hereyeshavegonehazywithpleasure,andshe’srockingrestlesslyonmybed.
We’rebothmakingnoise.I’mgroaning,she’swhimpering,sighing.Theairiselectricandmybodyisonfire.
“Oh…God…”She’spantingforairnow.
“Watchme,”Imumble.“Watchwhatyou’redoingtome.”
Istrokemyselffaster,andshecriesout,“Garrett.”
Shecomeswithmynameonherlips,andIcometothesoundofit.Pleasurehurtlesthroughme,coatingmyhandandmyabs.Theforceofmyreleasenearlyknocksmeoffmyfeet,andIwildlygrabthesideofmydesk,holdingontightaspulsingwavesroarthroughmybody
WhenIcrashbacktoEarth,IfindHannahwatchingme.Shelooksdazedandfascinated,andherbreastsheaveasshesucksinoxygen.
“OhmyGod.”Astonishmentflashesacrossherface.“Ican’tbelieve…”
Iblink,andsuddenlythere’sanakedgirlinmyarms.Shelaunchesherselfatme,unfazedbythewetnessonmystomach,whichnowstickstoherskin.
Shewrapsherarmsaroundmyneckandburiesherfaceinthecenterofmychest.“Icame.”
Ichokeoutalaugh.“Isaw.”
“Icame,andyouwerehere,and…”
Shepeersupatmeinawe.Ialwaysforgethowshortsheisuntilwe’restandingfacetofaceandshehastocranehernecktomeetmyeyes.
“Let’shavesex,”sheannounces.
Damnedifmycockdoesn’thardenagain.Shefeelsit,hereyeswideningasmyheavyerectionpressesintoherbelly.
ButclearlyI’mamasochist,becauseIsay,“No.”
No?
It’sofficial.I’vegoneinsane.
“Whatdoyoumean,no?”shedemands.
Iholdmygroundeveninthefaceofhervisibledisappointment.“Tonightwasabigstepforyou,butIthinkthat’showweneedtohandleitfromnowon.Insteps.”Iswallow,andforcemyselftoadd,“Babysteps.”
Anoddglimmercrosseshereyes.
“What?”Isayroughly.
“Nothing.That’sjustwhatmytherapistusedtoadvise.Babysteps.”
Shegoesquietforalongmoment,andthenthemostbrilliantsmilefillsherfaceandlightsuptheroom.It’sthefirsttimeHannahhassmiledatmelikethat,asmilethattrulyreacheshereyes,anditmakesmyheartclenchinthestrangestway.
“You’reaprettygoodguy,Garrett.Youknowthat?”
Agoodguy?Iwish.Fuck,ifshecouldreadmymindandseeallthedirtyimagesflashinginsideit,ifsheknewallthewickedthingsIwanttodotoher,she’dprobablyrecantthatstatement.
“Ihavemymoments,”Ianswerwithashrug.
Hersmilewidens,andmychestcrackswideopen
IknowinthatmomentthatI’mintrouble.
IagreedtohelphernotjustbecauseI’mherfriend,butbecauseI’maman.Andwhenawomanasksyoutohavesexwithherandgiveheranorgasm,youdon’tthinkaboutit.Yousayhellyes
Well,shegottheorgasm.Shedid.AndIknowI’mgoingtogetthesex.Iwill.
Butrightnow,allIwantisforthisgirltosmileatmeagain.26
HANNAH
“Stoprightthere!”asharpvoiceboomsasIhurrytowardmybedroom.“Wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing,younglady?”
Ispinaround,startledtofindAllielyingonthecouchinourcommonarea,balancingoneofherickyjuicecupsonherknee.Inmyhaste,Ihadn’tevennoticedher.
“Whatareyoudoinghome?”Iaskinsurprise.“IthoughtyouhaveecononWednesdays.”
“Itgotcancelledbecausetheprofisdying.”
Igasp.“Holyshit!Areyouserious?”
Shesnickers.“Well,no.Imean,maybe.Hesentoutanemailsayinghe’scomedownwithanillness—”sheusesairquotes“—buthedidn’tsaywhattheillnesswas.Iliketoimagineit’ssomethingbad,though.Becausethenhewon’tbeabletoteachfortherestofthetermandwe’llallgetautomaticA’s.”
“Youareanevilperson,”Iinformher.“Andonedaykarmaisgoingtocomebacktohauntyou.Seriously,don’tcomecrawlingtomewhenyougetsomedeadlydisease.Anyway,Ihavetogo.IjustpoppedintodropoffmystuffbeforeIheadtorehearsal.”
“Noway,Han-Han.You’regoingtosityourprettybuttdownonthiscouch,becauseweneedtohavealittlechat.”
“Ireallycan’tbelateforrehearsal.”
“HowmanytimeshasCassbeenlateforrehearsal?”shechallenges.
Goodpoint.
Withasigh,Iwalkovertothecouchandflopdown.“Okay.What’sup?Andmakeitsnappy.”
“Fine,youwantsnappy?How’sthis—whatonGod’sgreenplanetisgoingonwithyouandGarrett?”
Mymouthsnapsclosed.Crap.Busted.Imean,Ihadtextedherlastnightsaying“overatGarrett’s—behomelate”butAllielivesinherownSean-centeredbubbleforsomuchofthetimethatI’dbeenhopingshewouldn’tbringupthesubject.
“Nothing’sgoingon,”Ianswer.
Ha,ifby“nothing”Imean“IwentovertohishouseandwebothgotnakedandmasturbatedinfrontofeachotherandthenIhadanorgasmandhehadanorgasmanditwasthebestfeelingever.”
Allieseesrightthroughmyfeebleattemptatlying.“I’mgoingtoaskyouthisonetime,andonetimeonly—HannahJulieWells,areyoudatingGarrettGraham?”
“No.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“Fine.I’mgoingtoaskyoutwice.Areyoudating—”
“I’mnotdatinghim.”Isigh.“Butwearefoolingaround.”
Herjawfallsopen.Asecondticksby,thenanother,andthenherblueeyeslightupinvictory.“Ha!Iknewyouwereintohim!OhmyGod!Holdmyjuice—IthinkIneedtobreakoutinahappydance!Doyouknowhowtodotherunningman?Ifso,canyouteachmerightnow?”
Ilaugh.“OhGod,pleasedon’tdoahappydance.Andit’snotabigdeal,okay?It’llprobablyfizzleoutsoon.”
Yeah,whenIgooutwithJustin.
Anddoublecrap—thisisthefirsttimesinceDean’sbirthdaythatJustinhasevencrossedmymind.I’vebeenentirelyfocusedonGarrett,onthewayheturnsmeon,thethingsIwanttodowithhim.ButnowthatI’mremindedofmyimpendingdate,Iexperienceasharptugofguilt.
CanIreallygooutwithsomeoneelseafterwhatGarrettandIdidlastnight?
But…It’snotlikeI’mdatingGarrett.He’snotmyboyfriend,andthere’snowayheconsidersmehisgirlfriend,so…whynot?
Still,theurgetocancelonJustinrefusestogoaway,butIpushitasideasAlliecontinuestogushabouttheawesomenessofthishookup
“Didyousleepwithhim?Oh,pleasesayyes!Andpleasesaythatitwasgood!IknowyouandDevondidn’thavemajorchemistryinthesack,butfromwhatI’veheard,GarrettGrahamhassomeseriousmoves.”
Yep.Hecertainlydoes.
“Ididn’tsleepwithhim.”
Shelooksdisappointed.“Whynot?”
“Because…Idon’tknow,becauseitdidn’thappen.Wedidotherstuff.”Myfaceburnshotter.“Andthat’sallI’msayingaboutthesubject,okay?”
“Notokay.BFFsaresupposedtotelleachothereverything.Imean,youknoweverythingaboutmysexlife.YouknowaboutthetimeSeanandItriedanal,andyouknowhowbigSean’sdickis—”
“WhichisaboveandbeyondTMI,”Iinterject.“Iloveyoutodeath,butInever,everwantedtoknowaboutyoursexlife,andIdefinitelycould’velivedwithoutyoubringingoutaruleranddemonstratingthesizeofyourboyfriend’spenis!”
Alliepouts.“You’retheworst.Butdon’tworry,I’llgetallthedirtydetailseventually.I’mverygoodatpryingoutdetails.”
It’strue.Sheis.Butshe’snotgettingasingleonerightnow.
Rollingmyeyes,Istandup.“Allright,arewedonehere?BecauseIreallyneedtogo.”
“Fine,go.Andno,wearenotdone.”Shegrinsatme.“Wewon’tbedoneuntilyoubustoutthatrulerandputanendtotheageoldquestion,howbigisGarrettGraham’s—”
“Goodbye,perv.”
ThefirstthingIseewhenIwalkintothechoirroomfifteenminuteslaterisacellist.
Question:Howdoyouknowwhenthingshavespiraledoutofyourcontrol?
Answer:Whenyoufindacellistinyourrehearsalspaceanddon’tevenbataneye.
EversinceMJendorsedCass’schoiridea,I’vegivenuponarguingwitheitheroneofthem.Atthispoint,theycandowhateverthehelltheywant—AKAwhateverthehellCasswants—becauseIsimplydon’thavethementalenergytoplayhisgame.
“You’relate.”CasstskswithdisapprovalasIunzipmycoat.
“Iknow.”
Hewaitsformetoapologize.
Idon’tapologize.
“Hannah,thisisKimJaeWoo,”MJsayswithahesitantsmile.“He’sgoingtobeaccompanyingyouguysduringthesecondverse.”
Uh-huh.Ofcourseheis.
Idon’tbotheraskingwhenthisdecisionwasmade.Ijustnodandmutter,“Soundsgood.”
Forthenexthour,weconcentrateonlyonthemiddlesectionofthesong.NormallyCasswouldbestoppinguseverytwosecondstocriticizesomethingI’vedone,buttodaythebruntofhiscriticismlandsonpoorKimJaeWoo.TheKoreanfreshmanshootsmeapanickedlookeverytimeCassbitchesathim,butallIcandoisofferashrugandasympatheticsmile.
It’ssad.I’velostallenthusiasmforthissong.Theonlythingthatbringsmecomfortnowistheknowledgethatifwedon’twinthescholarshipthankstoCass’stheatrics,I’llgetasecondchanceinAprilduringthespringshowcase.
Attwoo’clock,Casscallsanendtorehearsal,andIbreatheasighofreliefasIpullonmycoat.WhenIstepintothehall,I’mstartledtofindGarrettstandingthere.He’swearinghisBriarjacketandholdingtwocoffeecups,andhegreetsmewithacrookedsmilethatmakesmypulserace.
“Hey!”Iwrinklemyforehead.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“Istoppedbyyourroom,butAlliesaidyouwererehearsing,soIfiguredI’dcomebyandwaituntilyouweredone.”
“Youwerestandingoutherethewholetime?”
“Naah,Igrabbedsomecoffeeandwanderedaroundforabit.Justgotbacknow.”Heglancespastmyshoulderintothemusicroom.“Isrehearsalover?”
“Yep.”Itakethecuphehandsmeandpoptheplasticlid.“Wehaveacellistnow.”
Garrett’slipstwitch.“Mmm-hmmm.AndIbetyou’repositivelythrilledaboutthat.”
“Morelikeindifferent.”
Asharpvoicesnapsfrombehindme.“You’reblockingthedoor,Hannah.Somepeoplehavesomewheretobe.”
Rollingmyeyes,ImoveawayfromthedoorwayandallowCassandMaryJanetoexit.Cassdoesn’tsparesomuchasalookatme,butwhenhenoticeswhoI’mtalkingto,hisblueeyesflyinmydirection.
“Cass,haveyoumetGarrett?”Iaskpolitely.
Hewarilyturnsbacktothetall,strappinghockeyplayeratmyside.“Naah,Ihaven’t.Nicetomeetyou,man.”
“Youtoo,Chazz.”
Myduetpartnerstiffens.“It’sCass.”
Garrettblinksinnocently.“Oh,sorry—wasn’tthatwhatIsaid?”
Cass’snostrilsflare.
“SoIhearyou’resingingaduetwithmygirl,”Garrettadds.“Ihopeyou’renotgivingheranytrouble.I’mnotsureyouknowthis,butmyHan-Hanhasabadhabitoflettingpeoplewalkalloverher.”Hearchesonedarkbrow.“Butyouwouldn’tdothat,right,Chazz?”
Despitethepangofembarrassmenthiswordsevokeinme,I’malsofightinghardnottolaugh.
“It’s.Cass.”
“That’swhatIsaid,no?”
There’sonelongmomentofveryobviousmachoposturingasthetwoguysstareeachotherdown.AsIexpect,Cassisfirsttobreaktheeyecontact.
“Whatever,”hemutters.“Comeon,MJ,we’regonnabelate.”
Ashedragsthesweetblondgirlawaylikeapieceofluggage,IturntoGarrettwithasigh.“Wasthatnecessary?”
“Fuckyeahitwas.”
“Okay.Justchecking.”
Oureyeslock,andaburstofheatgoesoffinsideme.Ohboy.Iknowexactlywhathe’sthinkingrightnow.Orrather,whathe’sthinkingaboutdoing.
Me
I’mthinkingthesamedamnthing.
ImighthavetoldAlliethatthisthingbetweenuswouldfizzleout,butatthemoment,it’sblazingevenhotterthanitdidlastnight.
“Myplace?”hemurmurs.
Thosetwowords,lowandhusky,makemythighsclenchsohardI’msurprisedIdon’tpullamuscle.
Ratherthananswer—mythroathascloggedwithdesire—Itakethecoffeefromhishandandproceedtodumpbothourcupsinthetrashcanbehindhim.
Garrettchuckles.“I’lltakethatasayes.”27
HANNAH
IhavenoideawhatwassaidduringthecarridetoGarrett’stownhouse.I’msurewetalked.I’msureIsawthescenerywhizzingpastthewindow.I’msureIevenbreathedoxygeninandoutofmylungslikeanormalperson.Ijustdon’trememberanyofthosethings.
Thesecondwestumbleintohisbedroom,Iloopmyhandsaroundhisneckandkisshim.Forgetbabysteps.Iwanthimtoobadtogoslow,andmyhandsfumbleforhisbeltbucklebeforehistongueevenentersmymouth.
Hishuskylaughterticklesmylips,andthenstronghandscoverminetostopmefromundoinghisbelt.“AsmuchasIappreciatetheenthusiasm,I’mgonnahavetoslowyoudown,Wellsy.”
“ButIdon’twanttogoslow,”Iprotest.
“Toughcookies.”
“Toughcookies?Whatareyou,mygrandmother?”
“Doesshesaytoughcookies?”
“Well,no,”Iconfess.“Nanaswearslikeasailor,actually.LastChristmasshedroppedamotherfuckerbombatthedinnertable,andmydadnearlychokedonhisturkey.”
Garrettbarksoutalaugh.“IthinkIlikeNana.”
“She’sverysweet.”
“Uh-huh.Soundslikeit.”Hetiltshishead.“Nowcanwestoptalkingaboutyourgrandmother,Ms.MoodKiller?”
“Youkilleditfirst,”Ipointout
“Naah,Ijustchangedupthepace.”Hisgrayeyesgomoltenhot.“NowgetonthebedsoIcanmakeyoucome.”
Oh.My.God.
IscrambleontothemattresssofastitbringsanotherlaughtoGarrett’slips,butIdon’tcarehoweagerIlook.ThenervesIfeltlastnightaren’twreakinghavoconmystomachtoday,becausemywholebodyistremblingwithneed.Inthebackofmymind,itdoesoccurtomethatmaybeitwon’thappenagain,atleastnotfromGarrett’stouch,butohman,I’mdyingtofindout
Hesettlesbesidemeandthrustshishandinmyhairashekissesme.I’veneverbeenwithaguywho’sthisroughwithme.DevontreatedmelikeImightshatter,butGarrettdoesn’t.I’mnotafragilepieceofchinatohim.I’mjust…me.Ilovehowexcitedhegets,thewayhepullsmyhairifmyheadisn’texactlywherehewantsittobe,orhowhebitesmylipwhenItrytoteasehimbydeprivinghimofmytongue.
Isituponlysohecanwhipmyshirtoff,andthenheusesonehandtounsnapmybrawiththekindofGarrettdexterityI’vecometoexpect.Thesecondhetakesoffhisownshirt,Ipressmylipstohischest.Ididn’tgettotouchhimyesterday,andI’mstarvingtoknowwhathefeelslike,whathetasteslike.Hisfleshiswarmbeneathmylips,andwhenmytonguedartstentativelyoveroneflatnipple,ahuskygroanescapeshislips.BeforeIcanblink,I’monmybackandwe’rekissingagain
Garrettcupsmybreast,toyingwithmynipplebetweenhisfingers.Myeyelidsflutterclosedandinthismoment,Idon’tcareifhe’slookingatme.Ionlycareabouthowgoodhe’smakingmefeel.
“Yourskinfeelslikesilk,”hemurmurs.
“DidyoustealthatlinefromaHallmarkcard?”Icrack.
“Nope,juststatingafact.”Hisfingersskimtheundersidesofmybreasts.“You’resoftandsmoothandperfect.”Heliftshisheadtogivemeawrylook.“Mycallusesareprobablyscratchingtheshitoutofyou,huh?”
Theyare,butit’sthekindoferoticscrapingthatmakesmyheartpound.“Ifyoustoptouchingme,I’llpunchyou.”
“Naah,you’lljustbreakyourhandifyoudothat.AndIhappentolikeyourhands.”Withawickedsmile,hetakesmyrighthandandplacesitdirectlyoverhiscrotch.
ThehardbulgebeneathmypalmissotemptingIcan’thelpbutstrokeit.Garrett’sfeaturesstretchtight.Asecondlater,hequicklyremovesmyhand.“Ohhell.Badidea.I’mnotreadyforthistoendyet.”
Isnort.“Aw,issomeonequickonthetrigger?”
“Shutit,woman.Icangoallnightlong.”
“Uh-huh.Sureyoucan—”
Hecutsmeoffwithablisteringhotkissthatendswithmegaspingforair.Thenanaughtygleamlightshiseyesagain,andhebendshisheadtokissmynipple.
Ashockwaveofpleasureblastsfrommybreasttomycore.WhenGarrett’stonguedartsoutandswirlsaroundthedistendedbud,Iallbutfloataway.Mybreastshavealwaysbeensensitive,andrightnow,they’reabundleoftight,cracklingnerveendings.Whenhesucksmynippledeepinhismouth,Iseestars.Heshiftstomyotherbreast,givingitthesamethoroughattention,thesamelazykissesandteasinglicks.
Thenhebeginskissinghiswaysouth
Despitetheexcitementsurgingthroughmyblood,Iexperienceawaveofanxiety.Ican’thelpbutrememberallthetimesDevondidthisexactsamething,kissinghiswaydownmybody.Orhowmuchtimehespentbetweenmylegswhenintercoursedidn’tseemtodoitforme.
ButthinkingaboutmyexrightnowisnotwhatIoughttobedoing,soIbanishallthoughtsofDevonfrommymind.
Garrett’sbreathticklesmybellybuttonashistonguegrazesmybelly.Icanfeelhisfingerstremblingasheundoesthebuttonofmyjeans.Ilikeknowingthathemightbenervous,orintheveryleast,thathe’sasexcitedasIam.Healwayscomesoffassocoolandself-assured,butrightnow,righthere,helookslikehe’sstrugglingtoholdontothelastthreadofhiscontrol.
“Isthisokay?”hewhispers,slidingmyjeansandpantiesdownmyhips.Thenhisbreathhitches,andIfeelatadself-consciousashishungrygazefixesbetweenmylegs.
Iinhaleslowlyandsay,“Yes.”
Thefirstbrushofhistongueagainstmyfoldsislikeanelectriccurrentshootingupmyspine.Imoansoloudlythathisheadliftsabruptly.
“Tuck’shome,”hewarns,humordancinginhiseyes.“SoIsuggestweuseourindoorvoices.”
Ihavetobitemyliptostopfrommakingnoise,becausewhathe’sdoingtome…holymotherofpearl.So.Good.Hecirclesmyclitwithhistongue,thenlicksitinsoft,slowstrokesthatdrivemeabsolutelywildwithdesire.
IsuddenlyrememberhowAllieconfessedthatshehadto“train”Seantodothisbecauseheusedtogoallmotorboatonherclitfromthewordgo.ButGarrettneedsnotraining.Heallowsmypleasuretobuild,goingslowandmakingmecrazy,makingmebeg.
“Please,”Iwhimperwhenthetempoonceagainbecomesexcruciatinglyleisurely.“More.”
Heraiseshishead,andI’mprettysureI’veneverglimpsedanythingsexierthanthesightofhisglossylipsandburninggrayeyes.“Doyouthinkyoucancomelikethis?”
Isurprisemyselfbynodding.Idon’tthinkI’mlying,though.I’mwoundupsotightI’mlikeacartoonbombabouttodetonate.
Withalowgrowlofapproval,heleansdownandwrapshislipsaroundmyclit.Hesuckshard,simultaneouslypushingonefingerinsideme,andIgoofflikearocketlauncher.
TheorgasmisathousandtimesmoreintensethantheorgasmsI’vegivenmyself,maybebecausemybodyknowsIwasn’ttheonewhomadeithappen.Garrettdidthis.Garrettturnedmylimbstojellyandsentthiswaveofsweet,pulsingsatisfactionracingthroughme.
Whentheincrediblesensationsfinallyabate,theyleavebehindawarmrushofpeaceandastrangelybittersweetfeeling.WhathappensnextissomethingI’veonlyseenhappeninmoviesanditembarrassesthecrapoutofme.
Istarttocry.
Inaheartbeat,Garrettclimbsupmybodyandsearchesmyfaceinconcern.“What’swrong?”Hisexpressiongoesstricken.“Ohshit.DidIhurtyou?”
Ishakemyheadandblinkthroughtheonslaughtoftears.“I’m…crying…because…”Ibreathedeeply.“BecauseI’mhappy.”
Hisfeaturesrelax,andnowhelookslikehe’stryingnottolaugh.Hisjawtwitchesashemeetsmyeyes.“Sayit,”heorders.
“Saywhat?”Iusethecornerofhisblankettowipethemoisturestainingmycheeks.
“SayGarrettGraham,youareasexgod.Youhaveachievedwhatnoothermaneverhas.You—”
Ipunchhimintheshoulder.“OhmyGod,you’resuchajerk.Iwillnever,eversaythosewords.”
“Sureyouwill.”Hesmirksatme.“OnceI’mthroughwithyou,you’llbeshoutingthosewordsoutfromtherooftops.”
“YouknowwhatIthink?”
“Womenaren’tsupposedtothink,Wellsy.That’swhyyourbrainsaresmaller.Scienceprovesit.”
Islughimagain,andahowloflaughterfliesoutofhismouth.“Jeez.I’mkidding.YouknowIdon’tactuallybelievethat.Iworshipattheshrineofwomanhood.”Hedonsasolemnface.“Okay,tellmewhatyouthink.”
“Ithinkit’stimeIshutyouup.”
Hesnickers.“Yeah?Howdoyouplanon—”HehisseswhenIcuphispackageandgiveitaheartysqueeze.“You’reevil.”
“Andyou’reacockyjerk,soIguesswebothjusthavetodeal.”
“Aw,thanksfornoticinghowcockyIam.”Hesmilesinnocently,butthere’snothinginnocentaboutthewayhethrustshiserectionintomyhand.
SuddenlyIdon’tfeelliketeasinghimanymore.Ijustwanttoseehimcomeapart.Ihaven’tstoppedthinkingaboutthewayhelookedlastnightwhenhe…
Mysexclenchesatthememory.
Itacklehisbeltbuckle,andthistime,heletsmeundoit.Infact,hefallsontohisbackandletsmedowhatevertheheckIwant.
IundresshimasifI’munwrappingashinygift,andonceIhavehimnaked,Itakeamomenttoadmiremyprize.Hisbodyislongandsleek,boastingagoldenskintoneinsteadofthepastywhiteyouseeonsomanyoftheguysatBriar.Irunmyfingersoverhisrock-hardabs,smilingwhenhismusclesquiverbeneathmytouch.ThenItracethetattooonhisleftarmandask,“Whyflames?”
Heshrugs.“Ilikefire.AndIthinkflameslookcool.”
Theresponseamusesme,butitalsoimpressesme.“Wow.Iwasexpectingtohearaboutthebullshitmeaningbehindit.Iswear,everytimeyouasksomeoneabouttheirtattoo,theytellyouitmeans“courage”inTaiwaneseorsomething,whenwebothknowitprobablymeans“potato”or“shoe”or“stupidlyintoxicated.”Ortheygiveyouawholespielabouthowtheyhitrockbottomxmanyyearsagobutworkedtheirwaythroughitandthisiswhytheyhaveaphoenixrisingfromtheashestattooedontheirback.”
Garrettlaughsbeforegoingserious.“Iguessthisisn’tthetimetotellyouaboutthetribaltattooonmyshin.Itmeanseternaloptimist.”
“OhGod.Really?”
“Nope.Totallylying.Butit’dserveyourightforgettingalljudgyaboutpeople’sink.”
“Hey,sometimesit’snicetohearthatsomeonegotatattoojustbecausetheylikeit.Iwascomplimentingyou,dumbass.”Ileanforwardandkisstheflamescirclinghisbiceps,which,Ihavetoadmit,dolookprettycool.
“Hellyeah,keepcomplimentingmethen,”hedrawls.“Butmakesuretouseyourtonguewhenyoudoit.”
Irollmyeyes,butIdon’tstopwhatI’mdoing.Idragmytongueovertheblackflames,thenkissmywaytohischest.Hetasteslikesoapandsaltandman,andIloveit.SomuchthatIcan’tstoplickingeveryfrickin’inchofhim.
Iknowhe’senjoyingmyverythoroughexplorationasmuchasIambecausehisbreathingbecomesragged,andIcanfeelthetensionripplingthroughhismuscles.Whenmymouthconcludesitsjourneybybrushingagainstthetipofhispenis,Garrett’sentirebodygoesrigid.
Ilookupandfindglazedgrayeyespeeringbackatme.“Youdon’thaveto…dothat…ifyoudon’twantto,”hesaysgruffly.
“Huh.Thenit’sagoodthingIwantto,isn’tit?”
“Somegirlsdon’tliketo.”
“Somegirlsareidiots.”
Mytonguetoucheshishardflesh,andhishipssnapoffthebed.Ilickhissmooth,engorgedhead,savoringthetasteofhim,learninghistexturewithmytongue.WhenIdrawthetipintomymouthandsuckgently,hemakesatorturednoisedeepinhisthroat.
“Jesus,Wellsy.Thatfeels…”
“Itfeelswhat?”Itease,lookingupathim.
“Un-fucking-believable,”hecroaks.“Don’teverstop.Imeanit.Iwantyoutokeepblowingmefortherestofyourlife.”
Ishisgrowlyrequestgoodformyego?
Naah.
It’sgreatformyego.
Sincehe’stoobigtotakeallthewayinmymouth,andI’mnotadeep-throatexpert,Iwrapmyfingersaroundthebaseofhim,suckingandpumpinginunison,mypacealternatingbetweenslowandteasingandfastandurgent.Garrett’sbreathinggrowsmoreandmorelabored,hisgroansgrowingmoreandmoredesperate.
“Hannah,”hechokesout,andIfeelhisthighstightenandknowhe’sabouttoclimax.
I’veneverswallowedbefore,andI’mnotbraveenoughtotryitnow,somyhandtakesoverasIstrokehimtorelease.Withahuskygrunt,Garrettarcheshisspine,andwetnessspurtsontomyfingersandhisstomach.HisfaceismesmerizingandIcan’ttearmygazeoffit.Hislipsareparted,cheekstaut.Hiseyesareahazyswirlofgray,likeathickmassofcloudsgatheringbeforeanimpendingstorm.
Severalsecondslater,hisbodyrelaxes,practicallysinkingintothemattressasasatedsighrumblesfromhismouth.Iloveseeinghimlikethis.Limpandspentandstillhavingtroublebreathing.
Igrabsometissuesfromtheboxonthenightstandandwipehimup,butwhenItrytogetuptothrowoutthetissues,heyanksmedownandkissesmehard.“Jesus…thatwasincredible.”
“Doesthatmeanwegettohavesexnow?”
“Ha.Youwish.”Hewagsafingeratme.“Babysteps,Wellsy.Remember?”
Ipoutlikeasix-year-old.“ButweknowIcanhaveanorgasm.Youjustsawit.”
“Actually,Ifeltitonmytongue.”
Myheartskipsabeatathiscrudedescription.Ifallsilentforamoment,andthenIletoutadefeatedbreath.“Willthischangeyourmind?”Iscowlathim,thenbeginthereluctantrecitation.“GarrettGraham,youareasexgod.Youhaveachievedwhatnoothermaneverhas.Youare…insertmoreglowingreviewshere.”Iliftoneeyebrow.“Nowcanwehavesex?”
“Absolutelynot,”hesayscheerfully.
Then,tomysheerandtotaldismay,hehopsoffthebedandpicksuphisdiscardedjeans.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Idemand.
“Gettingdressed.Ihavepracticeinthirtyminutes.”
Asifoncue,someonepoundsloudlyagainstGarrett’sdoor.“Yo,G,we’vegottatakeoff!”Tuckercalls
Isnatchtheblanketinapanic,desperatetocovermyselfup,butTucker’sfootstepsarealreadyretreating.
“Ifyouwant,youcanhangouthereuntilwegetback,”Garrettoffersashepullshisshirton.“I’llonlybegoneafewhours.”
Ihesitate.
“Comeon,stay,”hebegs.“I’msureTuckerwillbecookingupsomethinggoodfordinner,soyoucanstickaroundandI’lldriveyouhomeafterward.”
Theideaofbeingaloneinhishouseis…weird.Buttheideaofeatingahome-cookeddinnerinsteadofhittingupthedininghallsoundsprettydamntempting.“Okay,”Ifinallyrelent.“IguessIcandothat.I’llputonamovieorsomethingwhileyou’regone.Ormaybetakeanap.”
“Iwillalloweitherofthoseoptions.”Heglaresatme.“Butyouarenot,underanycircumstances,allowedtowatchBreakingBadwithoutme.”
“Fine,Iwon’t.”
“Promise…”
Irollmyeyes.“Ipromise.”
“G!Moveyourass!”
Intheblinkofaneye,Garrettwalksoverandplantsaquickkissonmylips.“I’vegottago.Seeyoulater.”
Thenhe’sgone,andI’maloneinGarrettGraham’sbedroom,whichis,well,I’lljustsayit—it’ssurrealashell.Ineverevenspoketotheguybeforemidterms,andnowI’msittingnakedonhisbed.Figurethatoneout.
I’msurprisedhe’snotworriedaboutmesnoopingaroundandfindinghispornstash,butwhenIstoptothinkaboutit,Irealizeit’snotthatsurprisingatall.Garrettisthemosthonest,straightforwardpersonI’veevermet.Ifhehasporn,heprobablydoesn’tbotherhidingit.Ibetit’sallneatlyorganizedinaclearlylabeledfolderrightonhiscomputerdesktop.
Ihearvoicesandfootstepsdownstairs,andthenthefrontdoorcreaksopenandslamsshut.Afterafewseconds,Igetupandputmyclothesbackon,becauseI’mnotcomfortablewalkingaroundnakedinaroomthat’snotmyown.
Ioptagainsttakinganap,becauseIfeeloddlyenergizedafterthatorgasm.Andthat’smoresurrealthaneverythingelse,theknowledgethatIactuallyhadanorgasmwithaguy
DevonandItriedtomakethathappenforeightlongmonths.
Garrettdiditaftertwohookupsessions.
DoesthismeanI’mfixed?
Thatquestioniswaytoophilosophicaltobeponderinginthemiddleoftheafternoon,soIpushitasideandgodownstairstogetadrink.ButonceIenterthekitchen,inspirationstrikes.Garrettandhisteammatesareprobablygoingtobeexhaustedwhentheygethome.WhyletTuckercookwhenI’malreadyinthekitchenwithnothingbuttimeonmyhands?
Aquickexplorationofthefridge,pantryandcupboardsrevealsthatGarrettwasn’tkidding—cookingdoeshappenhere,becausethekitchenisstockedwithingredients.TheonlyrecipeIknowoffthetopofmyheadismygrandmother’sthree-cheeselasagna,soIgatherupallthenecessaryitemsandpilethemonthegranitecounter.I’mabouttogetcookingwhensomethingelseoccurstome.
Pursingmylips,Ifishmyphoneoutofmybackpocketandpullupmymother’snumber.It’sonlyfouro’clock,soI’mhopingshehasn’tleftforworkyet.
Luckily,shepicksuponthefirstring.“Hey,sweetie!Thisisalovelysurprise.”
“Hey.Gotasec?”
“I’vegotfivewholeminutesactually,”shereplieswithalaugh.“Yourfather’sdrivingmetoworktonight,sohehasthehonorofcleaningallthesnowoffthecar.”
“Youguysarealreadygettingthatmuchsnow?”Isayinhorror.
“Ofcourseweare.It’sgl—”
“IsweartoGod,Mom,ifyousayglobalwarming,I’mhangingup,”Iwarnher,becauseasmuchasIlovemyparents,theirglobalwarminglecturesdrivemeupthewall.“AndwhyisDaddrivingyou?Whathappenedtoyourcar?”
“It’sintheshop.Thebrakepadsneededtobereplaced.”
“Oh.”Iabsentlyopenaboxoflasagnasheets.“Anyway,IwantedtoaskyouaboutNana’slasagnarecipe.Itserveseight,right?”
“Ten,”shecorrects.
Frowning,IthinkaboutallthefoodGarrettshoveledintohispieholewhenhecametothedinerlastweek,thenmultiplythatbyfourhockeyplayersand…
“Crap,”Imutter.“Istilldon’tthinkthat’senough.IfIwantedtoservetwenty,doIjustdoubletheingredients,oristhereadifferentwaytocalculateit?”
Mompauses.“Whyexactlyareyoucookinglasagnafortwentypeople?”
“I’mnot.ButIamfeedingfourhockeyplayerswhoIimaginehavetheappetitesoftwentypeople.”
“Isee.”There’sanotherpauseandIcanpracticallyhearhersmilingovertheline.“Isoneofthesefourhockeyplayerssomeone…special?”
“Youcanjustaskmeifhe’smyboyfriend,Mom.Youdon’thavetobecheesyaboutit.”
“Fine.Isheyourboyfriend?”
“Nope.Imean,we’rekindaseeingeachother,Iguess—”Kinda?Hejustmadeyoucome!“—butwe’refriendsmorethananything.”
Friendswhomakeeachothercome.
Isilencetheannoyingvoiceinmyheadandswiftlychangethesubject.“Doyouhavetimetoquicklytalkmethroughtherecipe?”
“Ofcourse.”
Fiveminuteslater,Ihangupthephoneandstartpreparingdinnerfortheguywhomademecometoday.28
GARRETT
ThehousesmellslikeanItalianrestaurantwhenIwalkthroughthedoor.IturntoLogan,whoshootsmeaWTFlook,andIshrugasiftosayfuckifIknow,becauseIhonestlydon’tknow.Ibenddowntounlacemyscuffedblackboots,thenfollowthemouthwateringaromatothekitchen.WhenIreachthedoorway,IblinklikeI’vejuststumbleduponadesertmirage.
Hannah’ssexyassgreetsmyeyes.She’sangledovertheovendoor,wearingTuck’spinkovenmittsasshepullsasteamingpanoflasagnaoffthemiddleshelf.Atthesoundofmyfootsteps,sheglancesoverhershoulderandsmiles.“Oh,hey.Perfecttiming.”
AllIcandoisgapeather.
“Garrett?Hello?”
“Youmadedinner?”Isputter.
Hercheerfulexpressionfaltersslightly.“Yeah.Isthatokay?”
I’mtoostunned—andgenuinelytouched—toanswer.
Fortunately,Deanappearsinthedoorwayandanswersforme.“Babydoll,thatsmellsfantastic.”
TuckertrailsinafterDean.“I’llsetthetable,”hepipesup.
Mythreeroommateslumberintothekitchen,TuckerandDeangoingtohelpHannah,whileLoganstandsbesideme,lookingamazed.
“Shecookstoo?”hesighs.
Somethingabouthistone—well,notsomething,sinceit’stheunmistakablenoteoflongingthatcausesmyguardtoshootuptenfeet.Fuck.Hecan’tactuallybeintoher,canhe?Ifiguredhejustwantedtosleepwithher,butthewayhe’slookingatherrightnow…
Idon’tfuckinglikeit.
“Dude,keepitinyourpants,”Imutter,whichsummonsachucklefromLogan,whoobviouslyknowswhatIwasthinkingandmyopinionaboutsaidthoughts
“Shit,thislooksamazing,”Tuckersaysashestandsoverthelasagnadishwithaknifeandservingspatula.
Thefiveofussettleatthetable,whichHannahactuallytookthetimetonotonlyclean,butcoverwithablue-and-whitetablecloth.Asidefrommymother,nofemalehasevercookeddinnerformebefore.Ikinda…likeit.
“Soareyoudressinguptomorrow?”TuckerasksHannahasheheapsamodest-sizedsquareoflasagnaontoherplate.
“Forwhat?”
Tuckgrins.“Halloween,dumbass.”
Hannahletsoutagroan.“Ohcrap.That’stomorrow?Iswear,Ihavenoconceptoftime.”
“Mycostumesuggestionforyou?”Deanchimesin.“Sexynurse.Actually,fuckthat,weliveinthemodernworld—sexydoctor.Oooh,orsexynavypilot.”
“I’mnotdressingupassexyanything,thankyouverymuch.It’sbadenoughthatI’mstuckpassingoutdrinksatthedormcrawl.”
Ichuckle.“Shit,yougotropedintodoingthat?”TheannualHalloweendormcrawlinvolvespeoplepoppingintoadorm,gettingfreedrinks,andthenmovingontothenextbuilding.I’veheardit’sactuallyalotmorefunthanitsounds.
Shesticksoutherchinglumly.“Ididitlastyeartoo.Itsucked.YouguysbetterstopinatBristolHouseifyou’replanningongoing.”
“I’dloveto,gorgeous,”Logansaysinaflirtytonethatmakesmestiffen.“Don’texpectGheretoshowup,though.”
Shelooksoveratme.“You’renotgoingoutonHalloween?”
“Nope,”Ireply.
“Whynot?”
“BecausehehatesHalloween,”Deaninformsher.“He’sscaredofghosts.”
Ifliphimthebird.ButratherthanownuptotherealreasonIhateOctoberthirty-firstwitheveryfiberofmybeing,Ijustshrugandsay,“It’sapointlessholidaywithsillytraditions.”
Logansnickers.“SaystheFunPolice.”
Tuckerfinishesservingeveryone,thensitsdownandshovesaforkintohislasagna.“Motherfucker,that’sgood,”hemumblesbetweenmouthfuls.
Afterthat,allconversationceasestoexist,becausetheguysandIareravenousafterthreehoursofshootingdrills,whichmeanswe’veturnedintocavemen.Wewastenotimedemolishingthelasagna,garlicbreadandCaesarsaladHannahmadeforus.AndImeandemolishing.There’sbarelyhalfaservingleftinthepanbythetimewe’rethroughwithit.
“IknewIshouldhavetripledtherecipe,”Hannahsaysruefully,staringattheemptydishesinwonder.Thenshetriestogetuptoclearthetable,atwhichpointTuckerallbutbodychecksheroutofthekitchen.
“Mymamataughtmemanners,Wellsy.”Hegivesherasternlook.“Someonecooksforyou,youclean.Period.”HisheadswivelstothedoorwayjustasLoganandDeantrytosneakout.“Where’reyouladiesgoing?Dishes,assholes.G,yougetafreepasssinceyouhavetodriveourlovelychefhome.”
Inthehall,IplantmyhandsonHannah’swaistandcrookmynecktokissher.“Whycan’tyoubetaller?”Igrumble.
“Whycan’tyoubeshorter?”shecounters.
Ibrushmylipsoverhers.“Thanksforcookingdinner.Thatwasreallysweetofyou.”
Ablushtintshercheeks.“IfiguredIowedyou…youknow…”Thepinkishtingedarkenstored.“Becauseyou’reasexgodandall.”
Ichuckle.“DoesthatmeaneverytimeIgiveyouanorgasmyou’llcookmeameal?”
“Nope.Tonightwasaone-timedeal.Nomorehome-cookedmealsforyou.”Shestandsonhertiptoesandbringshermouthtomyear.“ButIstillgettheorgasms.”
LikeIcouldever,eversaynotothat.
“Comeon,I’lldriveyouback.You’vegotanearlyclasstomorrow,right?”I’msurprisedtorealizethatIactuallyknowherschedule.
I’mnotsurewhat’shappeningbetweenus.Imean,Iagreedtohelpherwithhersexproblem,but…problemsolved,right?Shegotwhatshewantedfromme,andwedidn’tevenneedtohavesextomakeithappen.Sotechnically,there’snoreasonforhertosleepwithme.Orevenkeepseeingme,forthatmatter.
Andme…well,Idon’twantagirlfriend.Myattentionisandhasalwaysbeenfocusedsolelyonhockey,graduating,andwhateverteamI’llsignwithcomegraduation.Nottomentionimpressingthescoutswhoarealreadystartingtoshowupatourgames.Nowthattheseasonisinfullswing,thismeansmorepracticesandgamesandlesstimetodevotetoanything—oranyone—otherthanhockey.
SowhydoesthethoughtofnotspendinganymoretimewithHannahbringtheoddestclenchofregrettomygut?
Shetriestotakeastepdownthehall,butItugonherhandandkissheragain,andthistimeit’snotapeck.
Ikissherhard,losingmyselfinhertasteandherheatandeverydamnthingabouther.Ineverexpectedher.Sometimespeoplesneakuponyouandsuddenlyyoudon’tknowhowyoueverlivedwithoutthem.Howyouwentaboutyourdayandhungoutwithyourfriendsandfuckedotherpeoplewithouthavingthisoneimportantpersoninyourlife.
Hannahbreaksthekisswithasoftlaugh.“Getaroom,”sheteases.
Idecideitmightbetimetoreevaluatemystanceongirlfriends.
HANNAH
“Bwahahahahaha!HappyHalloweeeeen!”
Iturnawayfromthecloset—whereIwasjustintheprocessoftryingtofindaHalloween-esqueoutfitthat’snotacostumebecauseIfuckinghatedressingup—andgawkatthecreaturegracingmydoorway.Ican’tmakeheadsortailsofwhatAllieiswearing.AllIseeisaskintightbluebodysuit,lotsoffeathers,and…arethosecatears?
IstealAllie’strademarkphrasebydemanding,“WhatonGod’sgreenplanetareyousupposedtobe?”
“I’macat-bird.”Thenshegivesmealookthatsays,uh-doy
“Acatbird?Whatis…okay…why?”
“BecauseIcouldn’tdecideifIwantedtobeacatorabird,soSeanwaslike,justbeboth,andIwaslike,youknowwhat?Brilliantidea,boyfriend.”Shegrinsatme.“I’mprettysurehewasbeingasmartass,butIdecidedtotreatthesuggestionasgospel.”
Ihavetolaugh.“He’sgoingtowishhesuggestedsomethinglessridiculous,likesexynurse,orsexywitch,or—”
“Sexyghost,sexytree,sexyboxofKleenex.”Alliesighs.“Gee,let’sjustthrowthewordsexyinfrontofanymundanenounandlook!Acostume!Becausehere’sthething,ifyouwanttodresslikeaho-bag,whynotjustgoasaho-bag?Youknowwhat?IhateHalloween.”
Isnort.“Thenwhyareyougoingtotheparty?YoushouldgohangoutwithGarrett.He’ssulkingathometonight.”
“Really?”
“He’santi-Halloween,”Iexplain,butsayingitoutlouddoesn’tfeelright.
IgotthestrangestfeelinglastnightthathehasamoreseriousreasonforhatingHalloweenratherthanjust“it’sapointlessholiday.”MaybesomethingterriblehappenedtohimmanymoonsagoonHalloweennight,likehegoteggedbyhooliganswhenhewasakid.Oooh,ormaybehewatchedHalloweenandwasthenplaguedwithnightmaresthatlastedforweeks,whichiswhathappenedtomewhenIwatchedmyfirstandonlyMichaelMyersmovieattheageoftwelve.
“Anyway,Sean’swaitingformedownstairs,soI’mtakingoffnow.”Alliepopsoverandsmacksahugekissonmycheek.“HavefunhandingoutdrinkswithTracy.”
Yeah,right.I’malreadyregrettingagreeingtohelpTracywiththedormcrawl.I’mnotinthemoodtowaitaroundallnightfordrunkencollegekidstowanderintoBristolHousesoIcanhandthemdrinksandJell-Oshooters.Infact,themoreIthinkaboutit,themoreI’mtemptedtobackout,especiallywhenIpictureGarrettathomebyhimself,scowlingathisreflectioninthemirrororthrowingatennisballagainstthewallliketheydoinprison.
Ratherthancontinuemysearchforanon-costumecostume,IduckoutofmydormandwalkacrossthehalltoknockonTracy’sdoor.
“Coming!”Sheappearsnearlyaminutelater,runningacombthroughhercurlyredhairwithonehandandapplyingwhitepowdertohercheekswiththeother.
“Hey,”shechirps.“HappyHalloween!”
“HappyHalloween.”Ipause.“Solisten…howbadlywillyouhatemeifIbailonthedormcrawl?AndthenwhenIaddinsulttoinjuryandasktoborrowyourcar?”
Disappointmentfloodshereyes.“You’renotcoming?Whhhhhhy?”
Shit,Ireallyhopeshedoesn’tstartcrying.Tracyisthekindofgirlwhobawlsatthedropofahat,thoughinallhonesty,Ithinkhertearsareofthecrocodilevarietybecausetheyalwaysdryupwaytoofast.
“Afriendofmineishavingabadnight,”Isayawkwardly.“Hecouldusethecompany.”
Shegivesmeasuspiciouslook.“AnddoesthisfriendgobythenameGarrettGraham?”
Ismotherasigh.“Whywouldyouthinkthat?”
“BecauseAlliesaidyouguysaredating.”
Ofcourseshedid.
“We’renotdating,butyes,he’sthefriendI’mtalkingabout,”Iadmit.
Tomysurprise,Tracybreaksoutinahugegrin.“Well,whydidn’tyouleadwiththat?OfcourseI’mgoingtoletyouoffthehookifitmeansyougettogoandfuckGarrettGraham!Notetoyou—Iwillbelivingvicariouslythroughyou,becauseOh.My.God.Ifthathottiesomuchassmiledatme,mypantieswouldprobablymeltaway.”
Idon’twanttotouchevenasinglepartofthatresponse,soIignoreitaltogether.“Areyousureyou’llbeokay?”
“Yeah,I’llbefine.”Shewavesahand.“MycousinisvisitingfromBrown,soI’lljustrecruither.”
“Iheardthat!”afemalevoiceshoutsfrominsidetheroom.
“Thanksforbeingsocoolaboutthis,”Isaygratefully.
“Noprob.Holdonasec.”Tracydisappears,thencomesbackamomentlaterwithhercarkeysdanglingfromherindexfinger.“Hey,soIdon’tknowhowyoufeelaboutsextapes,butifyougetachance,recordeverysinglethingyoudowiththatboytonight.”
“Imostdefinitelywillnot.”Itakethekeysandgrinather.“Havefuntonight,babe.”
Backinmyroom,IgrabmyphonefromthelivingroomcouchandtextGarrett.
Me:Uhome?
Him:Yup
Me:Bailingonthedormcrawl.CanIcomeby?
Him:Gladucametoyoursenses,baby.Getyourassoverhere29
GARRETT
Whenthefrontdoorcreaksopen,I’mmorethanalittleapprehensive,becauseIhalfexpectHannahtoappearinsomeridiculous-asscostumeinanattempttospreadtheHalloweencheerandluremetothatdormparty.
Fortunately,shelookslikeregular-oldHannahwhenshepopsherheadintothelivingroom.Meaningshelooksfuckinggorgeous,andmydickimmediatelysalutesher.Herhairistiedinalowponytailwithherbangsswepttooneside,andshe’swearingalooseredsweaterandblackyogapants.Hersocks,ofcourse,areneonpink.
“Hey.”Sheflopsdownbesidemeonthecouch.
“Hey.”Islingmyarmaroundherandplantakissonhercheek,anditfeelslikethemostnaturalthingintheworld.
IhavenoideaifI’mtheonlyonefeelingthisway,butHannahdoesn’tpullaway,nordoessheteasemeabouthowfuckingboyfriendlyI’macting.Itakethatasapromisingsign.
“Sowhy’dyouflakeoutontheparty?”
“Iwasn’tinthemood.Ikeptpicturingyoucryingherealoneandpitywonout.”
“I’mnotcrying,jackass.”Ipointtotheboring-assmilkdocumentarythat’sflashingontheTVscreen.“I’mlearningaboutpasteurization.”
Shestaresatme.“Youguyspaymoneytosubscribetoagazillionchannelsandthisiswhatyouchoosetowatch?”
“Well,Iflippedbyitandsawabunchofcowudders,and,well,youknow,itturnedmeon,so—”
“EW!”
Iburstoutlaughing.“Kidding,babe.Ifyoumustknow,thebatteriesintheremotediedandIwastoolazytogetupandchangethechannel.Iwaswatchingthiswicked-awesomeminiseriesabouttheCivilWarbeforecowudderscameon.”
“You’rereallyintohistory,huh?”
“It’sinteresting.”
“Someofit.Otherparts,notsomuch.”SherestsherheadonmyshoulderandIabsentlytoywithastrandofhairthat’scomeloosefromherponytail.“Mymombummedmeoutthismorning,”sheconfesses.
“Yeah?Why?”
“ShecalledtotellmethattheymightnotbeabletoleaveRansomforChristmaseither.”
“Ransom?”Isayblankly.
“That’swhereI’mfrom.Ransom,Indiana.”Abitternotecreepsintohervoice.“Alsoknownasmyownpersonalhellhole.”
Mymoodinstantlygoessomber.“Becauseof…?”
“Therape?”Shesmileswryly.“Youcansaytheword,youknow.It’snotcontagious.”
“Iknow.”Iswallow.“Ijustdon’tlikesayingitbecauseitmakesitfeel…real,Iguess.AndIcan’tstomachthethoughtthatithappenedtoyou.”
“Butitdid,”shesayssoftly.“Youcan’tpretendotherwise.”
Ashortsilencefallsbetweenus.
“Sowhycan’tyourparentscometoseeyou?”Iask.
“Money.”Shesighs.“JustincaseyouwerecozyinguptomebecauseyouthoughtIwassomeheiress,youshouldknowthatI’matBriaronafullscholarship,andIgetfinancialaidforexpenses.Myfamilyisbroke.”
“Getout.”Ipointtothedoor.“Seriously.Getout.”
Hannahsticksouthertongue.“Funny.”
“Idon’tcarehowmuchmoneyyourfamilyhas,Wellsy.”
“Saysthemillionaire.”
Mycheststiffens.“I’mnotamillionaire—myfatheris.There’sadifference.”
“Iguess.”Sheshrugs.“Butyeah,myparentsareburiedundermountainsofdebt.It’s…”Shetrailsoff,andIglimpseaflashofpaininhergreeneyes.
“It’swhat?”
“It’smyfault,”sheadmits.
“Ihighlydoubtthat.”
“No,itreallyis.”Nowshesoundssad.“Theyhadtotakeoutasecondmortgagetopayformylegalfees.ThecaseagainstAaron,theguywho—”
“Whobetterbeinjail,”Ifinish,becauseIhonestlycan’thearhersaythewordrapeagain.Ijustcan’t.EverytimeIthinkaboutwhatthatbastarddidtoher,white-hotragefloodsmystomach,andmyfiststinglewiththeurgetohitsomething.
Truthis,I’veworkedmyentirelifetokeepmytemperincheck.AngerwastheoneconstantemotionIfeltgrowingup,butluckily,Ifoundahealthyoutletforit—hockey,asportthatallowsmetopoundonopposingplayersinasafe,regulatedenvironment.
“Hedidn’tgotojail,”Hannahsaysquietly.
Mygazewhipstohers.“Areyoufuckingkiddingme?”
“No.”Hereyestakeonafarawaylight.“WhenIgothomethatnight…thenightithappened…myparentstookonelookatmeandknewsomethingbadhadhappened.Idon’tevenrememberwhatIsaidtothem.AllIrememberisthattheycalledthepoliceandtookmetothehospital,andIgotarapekitdone,gotinterviewed,interrogated.Iwassoembarrassed.Ididn’twanttotalktothecops,butmymomtoldmeIhadtobebraveandtellthemeverything,sotheycouldstophimfromeverdoingthattoanyoneelse.”
“Yourmomsoundslikeaverysmartwoman,”Isayhoarsely.
“Sheis.”Hannah’svoiceshakes.“Anyway,Aaronwasarrested,andthenreleasedonbail,soIhadtoseethatbastard’sfaceintownandatschool—”
“Theylethimgobacktoschool?”Iexclaim.
“Hewassupposedtostayonehundredmetersawayfrommeatalltimes,butyeah,hewentback.”Sheoffersagrimlook.“DidImentionthathismotheristhemayorofRansom?”
Shockspiralsthroughme.“Fuck.”
“Andhisfatheristheparishleader.”Shelaughshumorlessly.“Hisfamilyprettymuchrunsthetown,soyeah,I’msurprisedthecopsevenarrestedhiminthefirstplace.Iheardhismotherraisedhellwhentheyshowedupattheirhouse.Sorry,theirmansion.”Shepauses.“Longstoryshort,therewereabunchofpreliminaryhearingsanddepositions,andIhadtositacrossfromhimincourtandlookathissmugface.Afteraboutamonthofthatbullshit,thejudgefinallydecidedtherewasn’tsufficientevidencetotakeittotrial,andhedismissedthecase.”
HorrorslamsintomeharderthananyhitGregBraxtoncoulddishout.“Areyouserious?”
“Asaheartattack.”
“Buttheyhadtherapekit,andyourtestimony…”Isputter.
“Allthemedicalexamshowedwasthattherewasbloodandtearing—”Sheblushes“—butIwasavirgin,sohislawyerclaimedthattheactoflosingmyvirginitycould’vecausedit.Afterthat,itwasAaron’swordagainstmine.”Shelaughsagain,thistimeinamazement.“Actually,itwasmywordagainsthisandthreeofhisfriends.”
Ifrown.“Meaning?”
“MeaninghispalsliedunderoathandtoldthejudgeIwillinglytookdrugsthatnight.Oh,andthatI’dbeenthrowingmyselfatAaronformonths,soofcoursehecouldn’tresisttakingwhatIwasoffering.Thewaytheyweregoingon,you’dthinkIwasthebiggestdruggiewhoreontheplanet.Itwashumiliating.”
Ididn’tknowthemeaningofblindrageuntilthisverymoment.BecausethemerethoughtofHannahbeingforcedtosufferthroughallthatmakesmewanttomurdereveryoneinthatsmalltownhellholeofhers.
“Itgetsworse,”shewarnswhenshenoticesmyexpression.
Igroan.“OhGod.Ican’thearanymore.”
“Oh.”Sheawkwardlyavertshereyes.“I’msorry.Forgetit.”
Iquicklygraspherchinandforcehertolookatme.“Figureofspeech.Ineedtohearthis.”
“Okay.Well,afterthechargesweredropped,thewholetownturnedagainstmeandmyparents.Everyonewassayingsomeprettyawfulthingsaboutme.Iwasaslut,Iseducedhim,Iframedhim,allthatfunstuff.Iendeduphavingtobehome-schooledfortherestofthesemester.AndthenMayorMomandherpastorhusbandsuedmyfamily.”
Myjawhardens.“Fuckno.”
“Fuckyeah.Theyclaimedthatwecausedtheirsonemotionaldistress,slanderedhim,abunchofotherbullshitIcan’tremember.Thejudgedidn’tawardthemeverythingtheywanted,buthedecidedthatmyparentshadtopayforAaron’sfamily’slegalfees.Whichmeanstheyhadtopayfortwosetsoflegalfees.”Hannahvisiblyswallows.“Doyouknowhowmuchourlawyerchargedforeverydayhespentincourt?”
I’mscaredtohearit.
“Twogrand.”Herlipstwistinabittersmile.“Andourlawyerwascheap.SoimaginehowmuchMayorMom’slawyerbilledaday.Myparentshadtogetthatsecondmortgageandtakeoutaloantocovertheleftovercosts.”
“Shit.”Icanliterallyfeelmyheartsplinterinmychest.“I’msorry.”
“They’restuckinthatfuckingtownbecauseofme,”Hannahsaysflatly.“Dadcan’tquithisjobatthelumberyardbecauseit’ssteadyworkandheneedsthemoney.Butatleasthe’sworkinginthenexttownover.Heandmymomcan’tdriveintoRansomwithoutdealingwithdirtylooksornastywhispers.Theycan’tsellthehousebecausethey’lllosemoneyonit.Theycan’taffordtoseemethisyear.AndI’mtoomuchofanassholetogobackandseethem.ButIcan’tdoit,Garrett.Ican’tevergobackthere.”
Idon’tblameher.Hell,Ifeelthesamewayaboutmyfather’shouseinBoston.
“Aaron’sparentsstilllivethere.Hestillvisitsthemeverysummer.”Shelooksatmewithahelplessexpression.“HowamIsupposedtogobackthere?”
“Haveyoubeenbackatallsinceyouleftforcollege?”
Shenods.“Once.Andhalfwaythroughthatvisit,mydadandIhadtogotothehardwarestore,andweranintotwoofthefathersofAaron’sfriends,thepiecesofshitwholiedforhim.Oneofthedadsmadearudecomment,somethinglike,ohlook,theslutandherfathershoppingfornails,becauseshesurelikestogetnailed.Orsomethingstupidlikethat.Andmydadsnapped.”
Isuckinabreath.
“Hewentafterthemanwhosaidit,smashedhisfaceinprettygoodbeforethefightwasbrokenup.Andofcourse,adeputyjusthappenedtobewalkingpastthestoreatthatmoment,andhearrestedmydadforassault.”Hannah’slipstighten.“Thechargesweredroppedwhenthehardwarestoreownercameinandsaidmydadwasprovoked.IguessthereareatleastacouplehonestpeopleleftinRansom.Butyeah,Ihaven’tbeenbacksince.I’mscaredthatifIdo,ImightbumpintoAaronandthen…Idon’tknow.Killhimforwhathe’sdonetomyfamily.”
Hannahrestsherchinonmyshoulder,andIcanfeelthewavesofsadnessradiatingoffherbody
Ihavenoideawhattosay.Everythingshedescribedissobrutal,andyet…Iunderstand.Iknowwhatit’sliketohatesomeonethatmuch,torunawaybecauseyou’rescaredofwhatyoumightdoifyouseethatperson’sface.Whatyoumightbecapableof.
MyvoiceisraspyashellasIblurtout,“ThefirsttimemyfatherhitmewasonHalloween.”
Hannah’sheadsnapsupinshock.“What?”
Ialmostdon’tkeepgoing,butafterthestoryshejusttoldme,Ican’tholdback.Ineedhertoknowthatshe’snottheonlyonewho’sexperiencedthatkindofangeranddesperation.“Iwastwelvewhenithappened.Itwasayearaftermymomdied.”
“Ohmygosh.Ihadnoidea.”Hereyesgowide,notwithpity,butwithsympathy.“Igotthefeelingyoudon’tlikeyourdad—Ihearditinthewayyoutalkabouthim—butIdidn’trealizeitwasbecause…”
“Becausehebeattheshitoutofme?”Ifillin,mytonedrippingwithresentment.“Myfatherisn’tthemanhepretendstobefortheworld.Mr.HockeyStar,familyman,allthatcharityworkhedoes.He’sperfectonpaper,huh?Butathome,hewas…fuck,hewasamonster.”
Hannah’sfingersarewarmasshelacesthemthroughmine.Isqueezethem,needingaphysicaldistractionfromthetightacheinmychest.
“Idon’tevenknowwhatIdidtopisshimoffthatnight.Icamehomefromtrick-or-treatingwithmyfriends,andwemusthavespokenaboutsomething,hemusthaveyelledaboutsomething,butIdon’tremember.AllIrememberistheblackeyeandthebrokennose,andbeingsostunnedthathe’dactuallylaidahandonme.”Ilaughcallously.“Afterthat,ithappenedonaregularbasis.Heneverbrokeanybones,though.Nope,becausethatwouldlaymeout,andheneededmetobeabletoplayhockey.”
“Howlongdiditgoonfor?”shewhispers.
“UntilIgotbigenoughtofightback.I’mlucky,Ionlygotwailedonforthree,maybefouryears?Mymotherlivedthroughitforfifteen.Well,assuminghestartedhittingherthedaytheymet.Shenevertoldmehowlongitactuallywentonfor.Honestly,Hannah?”Imeethereyes,ashamedofwhatI’mabouttosay.“Whenshediedoflungcancer…”I’msicktomystomachnow.“Iwasrelieved.Becauseitmeantshedidn’thavetosufferanymore.”
“Shecouldhavelefthim.”
Ishakemyhead.“Hewould’vekilledherbeforeheletthathappen.NobodyleavesPhilGraham.Nobodydivorceshim,becausethatwouldleaveablackstainonhispristinereputation,andhecan’thavethat.”Isigh.“Hedoesn’tdrinkorhaveproblemswithsubstanceabuse,ifthat’swhatyou’rewondering.He’sjust…sick,Iguess.Heloseshistemperatthedropofahat,andtheonlywayheknowshowtosolveproblemsiswithhisfists.He’safuckingnarcissist,too.I’veneverknownanyonewhoissofullofhimself,sofuckingarrogant.MymotherandIwerejustpropstohim.Trophywife,trophyson.Hedoesn’tgiveashitaboutanyonebuthimself.”
Ihavenevertoldanyoneaboutthisbefore.NotLoganorTuck.NotevenBirdie,themasterofkeepingsecrets.Anythingrelatedtomyfather,Ikeeptomyself.Becausethesadtruthis,toomanypeopleouttherewouldbetemptedtosellthestorytomakeafewbucks.It’snotthatIdon’ttrustmyfriends,Ido,butwhenyou’vealreadybeendisappointedbytheonepersonyou’resupposedtotrustmostinyourlife,you’renotexactlykeenongivingpeopleanykindofammunitionoveryou.
ButItrustHannah.Ihavefaiththatshewon’ttellanyoneaboutthis,andasmyconfessionhangsintheair,it’slikealoadhasbeenliftedoffmychest.
“Soyeah,”Isayroughly,“thelasttimeIcelebratedHallo-fucking-ween,Igottheshitkickedoutofmebymyownfather.Notahappymemory,huh?”
“No,it’snot.”Herfreehandrisestostrokemyjaw,whichiscoveredwithstubblebecauseIwastoolazytoshavetoday.“Butyouknowwhatmytherapistusedtotellme?Thebestwaytoforgetabadmemoryistoreplaceitwithagoodone.”
“I’mprettysurethat’seasiersaidthandone.”
“Maybe,butthere’snoharmintrying,isthere?”
Mybreathlodgesinmythroatwhensheclimbsintomylap.You’dthinkitwouldbeimpossibleformetogethardwhenwe’vejusthadthemostdepressingconversationknowntoman,butmydickthickensthemomentherfirmasssettlesoverit.Thekissshegivesmeissoftandsweet,andIgroanindisappointmentwhenhermouthsuddenlyleavesmine
Idon’tstaydisappointedforlong,though,becausethenextthingIknow,she’skneelingonthefloorinfrontofmeandfreeingmycockfrommysweatpants.
I’vegottenalotofblowjobs.That’snotabrag,it’sjustthetruth.ButwhenHannah’smouthfindsme,myballsdrawuptightandmycockthrobswithexcitement,pulsinglikeit’sthefirsttimeagirl’stonguehasevertouchedit.
Thetipofmydickdamnnearblowsoffwhenthewetheatofhermouthsurroundsme.Onesmall,delicatehandcaressesmythighassheworksmeoverwithhermouth.Herotherhandiscurledtightlyaroundmyshaft,herthumbrubbingthesweetspotundertheheadofmydick,andeachlongsuckpushesmedeeperintopure,blissfuloblivion.
Myhipsstarttomove.Ican’tstopthem.Can’tstopmyselffromdrivingdeeperintohermouthandtanglingmyfingersinherhairtoguideher.Shedoesn’tseemtomind,though.Myfranticthrustsbringamoantoherlips,andthesexysoundvibratesthroughmyshaftandzingsupmyspine.
Thehotsuctiondrivesmecrazy.Ican’trememberatimewhenIdidn’twantthisgirl.WhenIwasn’tfuckingdesperateforher.
It’sonlywhenIopenmyeyesthatIregisterwhereweare.Myroommatesareataparty,butwehaveanearlymorningpracticeandagametomorrow,whichmeanstheywon’tbeoutlatetonight.Whichmeanstheycouldwalkintothelivingroomatanysecond.
ItouchHannah’scheektostopher.“Let’sgoupstairs.Ihavenoideawhentheguysarecominghome.”
Shestandsupwithoutawordandholdsoutherhandtome.
Itakeit,andthenIleadherupstairs.
HANNAH
Garrettleavesthelightoff
Helocksthedoorbehindus,andIcanseehiseyesshininginthedarkness.Hestripssofastitmakesmelaugh,andthenhe’snakedinfrontofme,hismuscularbodyashadowyblurashetakesasteptowardme.
“Whyareyoustilldressed?”hegrumbles.
“Becausenoteverybodyisasproficientatgettingnakedasyouare.”
“It’snotthatdifficult,babe.Here,letmehelpyou.”
Ishiverwhenhesnakesbothhandsbeneathmyshirtandslowlydragsituptomycollarbone.Heplantsasoftkissbetweenmybracupsbeforepullingtheshirtovermyhead.Roughfingertipsskimmyhipsandticklethetopofmymoundashedropstohisknees,drawingthecottonfabricofmyyogapantsdownwithhim.
AllIcanseeishisdarkheadhoveringinchesfrommythighs,andit’ssuchaneroticsight,sofuckinghot,thatIcanhardlybreathe.Whenhismouthgrazesthesensitivenubthatisalreadyswellingwithdesire,aboltofpleasurenearlyknocksmeoffmyfeet,andIgripthetopofhisheadtosteadymyself.
“Okay,nope,”Iannounce.“I’mnevergonnabeabletostayuprightifyou’redoingthattome.”
Withachuckle,GarrettstandsupandscoopsmeintohisarmsasifIweighabsolutelynothing.
Welandonthebedwithathud,laughingaswelieonoursidesfacingeachother.We’rebothnakedanditfeelslikethemostnaturalthingintheworld.
Whenhespeaks,it’ssononsensicalI’mgenuinelycaughtoffguard.“IthoughtyournamestartedwithanM.”
“YouthoughtmynamewasMannah?”
Garrettsnickers.“No,IthoughtyournamewasMona,orMolly,orMackenzie.AnythingwithanM.”
Idon’tknowwhethertobeinsultedoramused.“Okay…”
“Foralmosttwomonths,Hannah.Iwenttwomonthswithoutknowingyourname.”
“Well,wedidn’tknoweachother.”
“Youknewmyname.”
Isigh.“Everyoneknowsyourname.”
“HowdidIgosolongwithoutnoticingyou,damnit?WhydidittakeseeingastupidAonyourmidtermtomakemenotice?”
HesoundssogenuinelyupsetthatIscootcloserandkisshim.“Itdoesn’tmatter.Youknowmenow.”
“Ido,”hesaysfiercely,andthenheslideslowerandcapturesoneofmynipplesinhismouth.“IknowthatwhenIdothis…”hesuckshard,amoanfliesoutofmymouth,andhereleasesmynipplewithawetpop.“…youmoanloudenoughtowakethedead.AndIknowthatwhenIdothis,yourhipsaregoingtostartrocking,likethey’researchingformycock.”Helicksmyothernipple,flickinghistongueoverit,andsureenough,myhipsrockinvoluntarilyandmysexclampsaroundachingemptiness.
Garrettpropshimselfupononeelbow,hisbicepsflexingagainstmyshoulder.“IalsoknowthatIlikeyou,”hesaysgruffly.
Alaughshuddersout.“Ilikeyoutoo.”
“I’mserious.Ireallyfuckinglikeyou.”
I’mnotsurehowtorespond,soIsimplygrabthebackofhisheadandbringhimdownforakiss.Afterthat,everythingbecomesablur.Hishandsandlipsareeverywhere,andawaveofpleasuresweepsmeawaytoabeautifulplacewhereonlyGarrettandIexist.Heleavesmeonlytoreachforthedrawernexttohisbed,andmypulseracesbecauseIknowwhathe’sgetting,what’sabouttohappen.ThetearofplasticbreaksthedarknessandIglimpseaflashofhimrollingonacondom,butratherthangetontopofmeandtakecontrol,hemovesontohisbackandhandsmethereins.
“Rideme.”Hisvoiceisraspy,tremblingwithneed.
Gulping,Iclimbontohislapandgriphispeniswithonehand.He’slongandthickandimposing,butthispositionallowsmetocontrolhowmuchofhimtotake.MypulsegallopslikearacehorseasIsinkdownonhim.IexperiencethemostdeliciousstretchingsensationasIlowermyselfinchbyinch,untilhe’sallthewayinside,andsuddenlyI’mfull.Sodamnfull.Myinnermusclesclutchhiserection,ripplearoundhim,andheunleashesadesperatesoundthatringsthroughmybody.
“Ohfuck.”Garrett’sfingersdigintomyhipsbeforeIcanmove.“Tellmeaboutyourgrandmotheragain.”
“Now?”
Hisvoicecomesoutstrained.“Yes,now,becauseIdon’tknowifanyonehasevertoldyouthisbefore,butyouaretighterthana—okay,nope,notgonnathinkabouthowtightyouare.What’sNana’sname?”
“Sylvia.”Imakeavalianteffortnottolaugh.
Hisbreathinggrowsaudiblylabored.“Wheredoesshelive?”
“Florida.Retirementhome.”Beadsofsweatbreakoutonmyforehead,becauseGarrettisnottheonlyoneclosetolosingithere.Thepressurebetweenmylegsisunbearable.Myhipswanttomove.Mybodycravesrelief.
Garrettreleasesalong,raggedbreath.“Okay.I’mgood.”Hiswhiteteethgleamintheshadowsashegrinsupatme.“Permissiontoproceed.”
“Thank.God.”
Iliftmyselfupandslamdownsohardwebothgroan.
Thiskindofblindingneedisnewtome.Iridehiminafast,furiouspace,butit’sstillnotenough.Ineedmoreandmoreandmore,andeventuallyI’mjustgrindingagainsthim,becauseI’vediscoveredthatwhenIleanforwardanddothat,myclitbrusheshispubicboneandintensifiesthepleasure.
Mybreastsarecrushedagainsthisrock-hardchest.He’ssomasculine,sofuckingaddictive.Ikisshisneck,andfindhisskinhotbeneathmylips.He’sburningup,hisheartbeathammeringwildlyagainstmybreasts,andwhenIliftmyheadslightlyandseehisface,I’mheldcaptivebyhisexpression,thetautstretchofhisfeaturesandtheintensepleasureglitteringinhiseyes.I’msofocusedonhimthatwhentheorgasmhitsme,itcatchesmebytotalsurprise.
“Ohhh,”Icryout,saggingagainsthimasarushofsweetblissracesthroughmybody.
GarrettrubsmybackasIgaspinpleasure.Mysexcontracts,milkinghishardshaft,andhisfingersdigbetweenmyshoulderbladesashecurses.“Hannah…ohfuck,baby,that’shot.”
I’mstillcatchingmybreathwhenhestartsthrustingupward,fastanddeep,hishipssnappingupashefillsme,overandoveragainuntilfinallyhegivesonefinalthrustandgroans.Hisfeaturestighten,darkbrowsdrawntogetherasifhe’sinpain,butIknowhe’snot.Ikisshisneckagain,suckingonhisfeverishfleshashetremblesbeneathme,holdingmesotighthetrapsalltheairinmylungs.
Afterwe’vebothrecoveredandthecondomisdisposedof,Garrettcrawlsbesidemeandspoonsmefrombehind.Theheavyweightofhisarmmakesmefeelsafeandwarmandtreasured.Sodoesthewayheflattenshispalmonmybellyandabsentlystrokesmynakedflesh.Hislipspressintothenapeofmyneck,andIcanhonestlysayI’veneverbeenmorecontentinmylife.
“Stayovertonight?”hemurmurs.
“Can’t,”Imurmurback.“IhavetoreturnTracy’scar.”
“Tellheritwasstolen,”heoffers.“I’llvouchforyou.”
Ilaughsoftly.“Noway.She’dkillme.”
Garrettrestshischeekonmyshoulder,rotatinghishipssothathissemi-hardcockrubsagainstmybutt.Hesighshappily.“You’vegotthesweetestassontheplanet.”
Ihavenoideahowwegottothispoint.OnedayIwastellinghimtogetlost,thenext,I’msnugglinginbedwithhim.Lifeissofrickin’weirdsometimes.
“Hey,”hesaysawhilelater.“Youdon’tworkFridaynights,right?”
“No.Why?”
“We’replayingHarvardtomorrow.”Hehesitates.“Maybeyouwanttocometothegame?”
Ihesitatetoo.IfeellikeI’mgettinginovermyhead.ItoldhimthingstonightthatI’venevertoldanyone,andI’mprettysurehisconfessionabouthisfatherisn’tsomethingtoomanypeopleknoweither.Idon’twanttoaskhimwhatitallmeans,though.I’mterrifiedthatI’mreadingtoomuchintoit.
I’mterrifiedofmakingitreal.
“YoucantakemyJeep,”headds,hisvoicegruff.“I’llberidingonthebuswiththeteam,soit’lljustbesittinginmydrivewayanyway.”
“CanIbringAllie?”
“Sure.”Hekissesmyshoulder,andashiverrunsthroughme.“Bringanyoneyouwant.Wecouldusethesupport,actually.Awaygamessuckbecausenobody’severcheeringforus.”
Iswallowtheoddlittlelumpinmythroat.“Okay.Yeah…IguessIcandothat.”
Wegoquietagain,andIsuddenlybecomeawareofthehardridgepokingagainstmybutt.Hisveryobviouserectionmakesmelaugh.“Really,dude?Again?”
Hechuckles.“Whatwasthatyouweresayingaboutmystaminatheotherday?Shameonyou.Dude.”
Stilllaughing,Irolloverandplastermyselftohiswarm,hardbody.“Roundtwo?”Imurmur.
Hislipsfindmine.“Fuckyeah.”30
HANNAH
“Ican’tbelievethisishappening,”Dexterannounces—foraboutthemillionthtime—fromthebackseatofGarrett’sJeep.
NexttoDex,Stellasighsandvoicesheragreement—alsoforthemillionthtime.“Iknow,right?We’reinGarrettGraham’scar.PartofmeistemptedtogoCarrieUnderwoodonitandcarvemynameintohisleatherseats.”
“Don’tyoudare!”Iorderfromthedriver’sseat.
“Relax,Iwon’t.ButIfeellikeifIdon’tleavemymarkonthiscar,nobodywilleverbelieveIwasinit.”
Hell,Ican’tbelieveshe’sinit.Iwasn’tsurprisedwhenAlliejumpedonthechancetocometoCambridgewithme,sinceshe’sstillonthequestfordetailsaboutGarrett,butIwasstartledwhenStellaandDexinsistedoncomingalong.
Sofarduringthiscarride,bothofthemhaveaskedmeatleasttwiceifGarrettandIaredating.I’verepliedwithmystandardresponse—wejusthangoutsometimes.Butit’sgettinghardertoconvinceevenmyselfofthat.
Weblastmusicfortherestofthedrive.DexandIsingalong,andourharmoniesareridiculouslyawesome—whydidn’tIaskhimtoduetwithme,damnit?AllieandStellacan’tstayonkeytosavetheirlives,buttheyjoininforthechoruses,andwe’reallinhighspiritswhenIpullintotheparkinglotofthehockeycenter.
I’veneverbeentoHarvardbefore,andIwishIhadmoretimetoexplorethecampus,butwe’rerunninglateasitis,soIushermyfriendsinsidebecauseIdon’twantustoloseoutonfindingseats.I’mflooredbyhowbigandmodernthearenaisandhowmanypeopleareheretonight.Luckily,wefindfouremptyseatsneartheBriarteam’ssideoftherink.Wedon’tbotherhittingupconcessionssinceweateashittonofcornchipsinthecar.
“Okay,sohowdoesthisgameworkagain?”Dexterasksme.
Igrin.“Seriously?”
“Yes,seriously.I’mablackkidfromBiloxi,Han-Han.WhatthefuckdoIknowabouthockey?”
“Fairenough.”
AsAllieandStellachataboutoneoftheiractingclasses,IgiveDexaquickrundownofwhathecanexpect.Andyetwhentheplayershittheice,Irealizemyexplanationhasn’tdoneitjustice.ThisisthefirsthockeygameI’veseeninperson,andIdon’texpecttheroarofthecrowd,thedeafeningblareofthePAsystem,thelightningfastspeedoftheplayers.
Garrett’sjerseyis#44,butIdon’tneedtolookatthenumbertoknowwhichblack-and-silver-cladplayerheis.He’sthecenterofthestartingline,andthesecondtherefdropsthepuck,GarrettwinstheopeningfaceoffandsnapsthepuckbacktoDean,whoIthoughtwasawingbutisapparentlyadefenseman.
I’mtoobusywatchingGarretttofocusonanyoftheotherplayers.He’s…mesmerizing.He’salreadytallwithoutskateson,sotheaddedheightmakeshimappearmassive.Andhe’ssofuckingfastIhaveatoughtimekeepingmygazeonhim.Hefliesdowntheice,chasingthepuckthatHarvardhasstolenfromusandcheckingtheopposingplayerlikeapro.Briartakesanearlylead,thankstoagoalbyaplayertheannouncerreferstoas“JacobBerderon,”andittakesmeasecondtorealizehemeansBirdie,thedark-hairedseniorImetatMalone’s.
Theclockonthescoreboardticksdown,butjustwhenIthinkBriarwillshutoutHarvardinthefirstperiod,oneoftheopposingforwardsgetsafastsnapshotpastSimmstotiethegame.
Astheperiodendsandtheplayersdisappearintotheirrespectivetunnels,Dexpokesmeintheribsandsays,“Youknowwhat?Thisain’thalfbad.MaybeIshouldstartplayinghockey.”
“Canyouskate?”Iaskhim.
“Naah.Butitcan’tbethathard,right?”
Isnort.“Sticktomusic,”Iadvise.“Orifyou’rereallydeterminedtogetintosports,playfootball.Briarcoulduseyou.”
FromwhatI’veheard,ourfootballteamisputtinguptheworstrecordtheschoolhasseeninyears,winningonlythreeoftheeightgamesthey’veplayedsofar.ButSeansaidtheystillhaveachancetomakeittothepost-seasonifthey,andIquote,“gettheirmotherfuckingshittogetherandstartwinningsomemotherfuckinggames.”ItmakesmefeelsorryforBeau,whoIgenuinelyenjoyedtalkingtoattheparty.
ThemomentIthinkaboutBeau,Justin’sfaceswooshesintomyheadlikeagustofwind.
Shit.
WehaveadinnerdateSundaynight.
HowthehelldidIforgetaboutthat?
BecauseyouweretoobusyhavingsexwithGarrett?
Yep,that’sit.
IbitemylipasIdebatewhattodo.Ihaven’tthoughtaboutJustinallweek,butthatdoesn’ttrumpthefactthatI’vebeenthinkingabouthimallsemester.Somethingdrewmetohiminthefirstplace,andIcan’tjustignorethat.Besides,Idon’tevenknowwhat’shappeningbetweenmeandGarrett.Hehasn’tbroughtupthewholeboyfriend/girlfriendthing.Idon’tknowifIwanttobehisgirlfriend.
Ihaveatypewhenitcomestoguys.Quiet,serious,moody.Creative,ifI’mlucky.Playsmusicisalwaysaplus.Smart.Sarcasticbutnotinasnideway.Unafraidtoshowhisemotions.Someonewhomakesmefeel…atpeace.
Garretthassomeofthosequalities,butnotallofthem.AndI’mnotsurepeacefulistheaccuratewordtodescribehowIfeelwhenI’mwithhim.Whenwe’rearguingorshootingwisecracksbackandforth,it’slikemywholebodyiswiredwithelectricity.Andwhenwe’renaked…it’slikeanentireFourthofJulyfireworksdisplaygoingoffinsideme.
Ithinkthatmightbeagoodthing?
Fuck,Idon’tknow.Mytrackrecordwithguysisn’texactlyaseriesofsuccesses.WhatdoIknowaboutrelationships?AndhowcanIbecertainthatJustinisn’ttheguyIshouldbewithifIdon’tgooutwithhimatleastonce?
“Sowhydotheycallitthecrease?”Dexasksinfascinationafterthesecondperiodcommences.“Andwhydoesitsoundsodirty?”
Onmyotherside,AllieleansintogrinatDexter.“Babe,everythingabouthockeysoundsdirty.Five-hole?Pokecheck?Backdoor?”Shesighs.“ComehomewithmeonetimeandlistentomydadyellJamitin!overandoveragainwhenhewatcheshockey,andthenyoucantalktomeaboutdirty.Nottomentionuncomfortable.”
DexandIlaughsohardwealmostfalloutofourchairs.
GARRETT
AstheguysandIshuffleoutoftheguestlockerroomafterthegame,we’restillridingthehighofcrushingthehometeam.Eventhoughit’soneofoursophomoreswholandedthatlastbeautyofagoalthatsecuredourwin,I’vedecidedthatHannahismygoodluckcharmandmustnowattendallofourgames,becausethelastthreetimesweplayedHarvard,wegotourasseshandedtous.
Weagreedtomeetoutsidethearenaafterthegame,andsureenough,she’swaitingthereformewhenIwalkoutside.She’swithAllie,alongwithadark-hairedchickIdon’trecognizeandanenormousblackguy.
ThemomentHannahspotsme,shewandersawayfromherfriendsandwalksovertome.“Hey.”Shelookssurprisinglyshy,andshehesitates,asifshe’snotsureifsheshouldhugorkissme.
Isolveherdilemmabydoingboth,andasIbrushmylipsoverhers,Ihearavictorious“Iknewit!”echofromherfriends’direction.Theexclamationcomesfromthegirlwhoisn’tAllie.
IpullbacktogrinatHannah.“Keepingusasecretfromyourfriends,huh?”
“Us?”Sheraiseshereyebrows.“Ididn’trealizewewereanus.”
Nowisdefinitelynotthetimetodiscussthestatusofourrelationship—ifitevenisone—soIjustshrugandsay,“How’dyoulikethegame?”
“Itwasintense.”Shesmirksatme.“Inoticeyoudidn’tscoreagoal,though.Slackingmuch?”
Mygrinwidens.“Isincerelyapologizeforthat,Wellsy.Ipromisetodobetternexttime.”
“You’dbetter.”
“I’llscoreahattrickjustforyou,howaboutthat?”
Myteammatesshufflepastusandheadforthebuswaitingtwentyfeetaway,butI’mnotreadytoleaveHannahyet.“I’mgladyoucame.”
“Metoo.”Shesoundslikeshereallymeansit.
“Areyoubusytomorrownight?”Theteamhasanothergametomorrow,butit’sanafternooner,andI’mdyingtogetHannahaloneagainsowecan…yeah.“IthoughtwecouldhangoutafterIgetbackfrom—”Istoptalkingwhenashadowappearsinmyperipheryvision,andmyshoulderssetinatightlinewhenIspotmyfatherdescendingthefrontstepsofthebuilding.
ThisisthepointoftheeveningIdread.Timeforthebignod,followedbythesilentwalk-away.
Asifoncue,Igetthenod.
Butnotthewalk-away.
Myfatherstartlestheshitoutofmebysaying,“Garrett.Aword.”
Hisdeepvoicesendsachillupmyspine.Ifuckinghatethesoundofhisvoice.Ihatethesightofhisface.
Ihateeverygoddamnthingabouthim
Hannah’sexpressioncreaseswithconcernwhensheseesmyface.“Isthat…?”
Insteadofanswering,Itakeareluctantstepaway.“I’llbebackinaminute,”Imumble.
Myfatherisalreadyhalfwaydowntheparkinglot.Hedoesn’teventurnaroundtocheckifI’mfollowinghim.Becausehe’sPhilfuckingGraham,andhecan’timaginesomeonenotwantingtobearoundhim.
Somehowmystifflegscarrymeinhisdirection.Inoticeseveralofmyteammateslingeringatthedoorofthebus,watchinguscuriously.Afewofthemarevisiblyenvious.Jesus.Iftheyonlyknewwhattheywerejealousof.
WhenIreachhim,Idon’tbotherwithpleasantries.Ijustscowlandspeakinatersevoice.“Whatdoyouwant?”
Likeme,hegetsrighttothepoint.“IexpectyoutocomehomeforThanksgivingthisyear.”
Myshockmanifestsitselfintheformofasharplaugh.“No,thanks.I’llpass.”
“No,whatyouwilldoiscomehome.”Adarklookhardenshisfeatures.“OrIwilldragyouhome.”
Igenuinelydon’tknowwhat’shappeningrightnow.SincewhendoeshegiveashitwhetherIcomehomeornot?Ihaven’tbeenbackoncesinceIleftforBriar.I’minHastingsduringtheschoolyear,andIspendmysummersworkingsixty-hourweeksforaconstructioncompanyinBostonandsavingeverylastpenny,whichIthenusetopayforrentandgroceriesbecauseIdon’twanttotakeanymoreofmyfather’smoneythanIabsolutelyhaveto.
“WhythehelldoyoucarewhatIdofortheholidays?”Imutter.
“You’reneededathomethisyear.”He’sspeakingthroughclenchedteeth,asifhe’senjoyingthisevenlessthanIam.“Mygirlfriendiscookingdinner,andsherequestedyourpresence.”
Hisgirlfriend?Ididn’tevenrealizehehadagirlfriend.AndhowfuckingsadisitthatIknownothingaboutmyownfather’slife?
Thewayhephraseditdoesn’tescapemeeither.Sherequestedmypresence.Nothim.
Imeethiseyes,thesameshadeofgrayasmyown.“TellherI’msick.Orhell,tellherIdied.”
“Don’ttestme,boy.”
Oh,he’sbustingouttheboy,huh?That’swhathealwayscalledmerightbeforehisfistspummeledmygut,orsmashedmyface,orbrokemynoseforthehundredthfuckingtime.
“I’mnotcoming,”Isaycoldly.“Dealwithit.”
Hemovesincloser,hiseyesgleamingbeneaththelowbrimofhisBruinscapashisvoicelowerstoahiss.“Listenup,youungratefullittleshit.Idon’taskmuchofyou.Infact,Idon’taskanythingofyou.Iletyoudowhateverthefuckyouwant,Ipayforyourtuition,yourbooks,yourequipment.”
Theremindermakesmystomachseethewithanger.Ikeepaspreadsheetonmycomputerthatdocumentseverythinghe’severpaidforsothatwhenIgainaccesstomytrust,I’llknowthepreciseamounttowriteonthecheckIplanonhandinghimbeforeItellhimgoodriddance
ButtuitionfornexttermneedstobepaidinDecember,themonthbeforemytrustcomesin.AndIdon’thaveenoughinmysavingsaccounttocoverthefullamount.
WhichmeansI’mstuckbeingindebtedtohimforalittlewhilelonger.
“AllIexpectinreturn,”hefinishes,“isthatyouplaylikethechampionyouare.ThechampionImadeyou.”Anuglysneertwistshismouth.“Well,it’stimetopayup,son.YouwillcomehomeforThanksgiving.Understood?”
Oureyeslock.
Icouldkillthisman.IfIknewIcouldgetawaywithit?Iwouldactuallykillhim.
“Understood?”herepeats.
Igiveacurtnod,andthenIstalkawaywithoutlookingback.
Hannahwaitsformenearthebus,worrycloudinghergreeneyes.“Iseverythingokay?”sheasksquietly.
Idrawinaraggedbreath.“Yeah.It’sfine.”
“Areyousure?”
“It’sfine,babe.Ipromise.”
“Graham,getyourassonthebus!”Coachshoutsfrombehindme.“You’reholdingeveryoneup.”
SomehowImanagetoforceasmile.“I’vegottago.Maybewecanhangouttomorrowaftermygame?”
“Callmewhenyou’redone.I’llseewhereI’mat.”
“Soundsgood.”Idropakissonhercheek,thenheadforthebus,whereCoachisimpatientlytappinghisfoot.
HewatchesHannahasshemakesherwaybacktoherfriends,thenshootsmeawrysmile.“She’scute.Girlfriend?”
“Noidea,”Iconfess.
“Yeah,that’showitusuallyiswithwomen.Theyholdallthecardsandwe’rejustclueless.”Coachslapsmeonthearm.“Comeon,kid.Timetohustle.”
ItakemyusualseatnexttoLogannearthefrontofthebus,andhegivesmeafunnylookasIunzipmyjacketandleanmyheadback.
“What?”Imumble.
“Nothing,”hesayslightly.
I’veknowntheguylongenoughtofigureoutthata“nothing”fromLoganmeanssomethingentirelydifferent,buthepopsinhisearbudsandproceedstoignoremeformostoftheride.Itisn’tuntilwe’retenminutesfromBriarthatheabruptlyyanksouthisearphonesandturnstolookatme.
“Fuckit,”heannounces.“I’mjustgonnacomeoutandsayit.”
Warinesscirclesmyinsideslikeaturkeyvulture.Isincerelyhopehe’snotabouttoconfessthathehasathingforHannah,becauseshitwillgetawkwardrealfastifhedoes.Iglancearound,butmostofmyteammatesareeithersleepingorlisteningtomusic.TheseniorsinthebackarelaughingatsomethingBirdiehasjustsaid.Nobodyispayinganyattentiontous.
Ilowermyvoice.“What’sup?”
Heletsoutawearybreath.“Idebatedsayinganythingatall,butfuck,G,Idon’tlikeseeinganyonegetplayedforafool,especiallymybestfriend.IfiguredIshouldwaituntilafterthegame,though.”Heshrugs.“Ididn’twantyoutobedistractedontheice.”
“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout,man?”
“DeanandIendedupatMaxwell’shouselastnightforhisHalloweenthing,”Loganconfesses.“Kohlwasthere,and…”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Andwhat?”
Loganlookssouncomfortablethatmyguardsoarsanothertwentyfeet.He’sneveronetobeataroundthebush,whichmeansshitmustbeserious.
“Hesaidhe’sgoingoutwithWellsythisweekend.”
Myheartstops.“Bullshit.”
“That’swhatIthought,but…”Anothershrug.“Heinsisteditwastrue.IfiguredIshouldtellyouaboutit,youknow,justincasehe’snottalkingoutofhisass.”
Iswallow,mymindrunningamillionmilesasecond.Bullshitcontinuestobemythoughtofchoice,butapartofmeisn’tsosure.ThewholereasonHannahiseveninmylifeisbecauseoffuckingKohl.BecauseshewasinterestedinKohl
Butthatwasbefore.BeforesheandIkissed—
Shestillwenttothepartytoseehimafterthekiss
Right.Igulpagain.Well,itwasafterthekissbutbeforeeverythingelse.Thesex.Thesecretswesharedwitheachother.Allthecuddling
Toldyoucuddlingwasamistake,dude
Myinnercynicwreakshavoconmybrain,bringingarushofwearinesstomychest.No,Kohlhadtohavebeenbullshitting.There’snowayHannahwouldagreetogooutonadatewithhimwithouttellingme.
Right?
“Anyway,justthoughtyoushouldknow,”Logansays.
It’sdamndifficulttospeakpastmytight-as-fuckthroat,butImanageonemumbleofaword.“Thanks.”31
HANNAH
GarretttextsmejustasI’mgettingreadyforbed.AllieandIliterallywalkedthroughthedoorfiveminutesago,andI’msurprisedtohearfromhimagaintonight.Ifiguredhe’dcrashthemomenthegothomefromthegame.
Him:Needtotalktou
Me:Now?
Him:Yes
O-kay.Itmightbeatextmessage,butit’shardnottoextrapolatehistone.Andhistoneismostdefinitelypissedoff.
Me:Um,sure.Callme?
Him:Actually,I’matyourdoor
Myheadsnapstowardmyopendoorway,halfexpectingtofindhimthere.ThenIfeelsillybecauseIrealizehemeansthedoortoourdormandnotmybedroom.Still,thismustbeserious,becauseGarrettdoesn’tusuallyshowupunannounced.
QueasinesseddiesinmystomachasIwalkpastthecommonareatoanswerthedoor.Sureenough,Garrettisstandingbehindit.Stillwearinghishockeyjacketandsweatpants,asifherushedrightoverinsteadofgoinghometochangefirst
“Hi,”Igreethim,gesturingforhimtocomeinside.“What’sgoingon?”
Hegazespastmeattheemptylivingroom.“Where’sAllie?”
“Shewenttobed.”
“Canwetalkinyourroom?”
Thequeasinessgetsworse.Ican’tdecipherhisexpressionatall.Hiseyesareshuttered,andhistoneiscompletelydevoidofemotion.Doesthishavesomethingtodowithhisfather?Icouldn’theartheirconversationearlier,buttheirbodylanguagehadconveyedsomeseriousaggression.Iwonderifmaybethey—
“AreyougoingoutwithJustinthisweekend?”
GarrettvoicesthedemandthemomentIclosemybedroomdoor,andIrealizeindismaythatthishasnothingtodowithhisdad.
Andeverythingtodowithme.
Surpriseandinsta-guiltwarinsidemeasImeethiseyes.“Whotoldyouthat?”
“Logan.ButhehearditfromKohl.”
“Oh.”
Garrettdoesn’tmove.Hedoesn’tunziphisjacket.Hedoesn’tevenblink.Hejustkeepshisgazelockedonmine.“Isittrue?”
Igulp.“Yesandno.”
Forthefirsttimesincehegothere,hisexpressionflasheswithemotion—annoyance.“Whatthehelldoesthatmean?”
“Itmeansheaskedmeout,butIhaven’tdecidedifI’mgoingornot.”
“Didyousayyouwould?”There’sagrimedgetohistone.
“Well,yes,but—”
Garrett’seyesblaze.“Youactuallysaidyes?Whendidheaskyou?”
“Lastweek,”Iadmit.“ThedayafterBeau’sparty.”
Hisfacerelaxes.Justslightly.“SoitwasbeforeDean’sthing?BeforeyouandI…?”
Inod.
“Okay.”Hetakesabreath.“Okay.NotasbadasIthought.”Butthenhisfeaturesturntostoneagainandhisnostrilsflare.“Wait—whatdoyoumean,youhaven’tdecidedifyou’regoing?”
Igiveahelplessshrug.
“You’renotfuckinggoing,Hannah!”
Hissharpvoicemakesmewince.“Sayswho?You?BecauselastIchecked,youandIaren’tdating.We’rejustfoolingaround.”
“Isthatwhatyoureally—”Hestops,hismouthtwistinginascowl.“Youknowwhat?Iguessyou’reright.Iguesswe’rejustfoolingaround.”
Icanbarelykeepupwiththejumbledthoughtsracingthroughmybrain.“Yousaidyoudon’tdogirlfriends,”Isayweakly.
“IsaidIdon’thavetimeforagirlfriend,”heshootsback.“Butguesswhat—prioritieschange.”
Ifalter.“Soyou’resayingyouwantmetobeyourgirlfriend?”
“Yeah,maybethat’swhatI’msaying.”
Myteethsinkintomylowerlip.“Why?”
“Whywhat?”
“Whywouldyouwantthat?”Ibitemylipharder.“You’reallone-trackabouthockey,remember?Andbesides,wearguetoomuch.”
“Wedon’targue.Webicker.”
“It’sthesamething.”
Herollshiseyes.“No,it’snot.Bickeringisfunandgood-natured.Arguingis—”
“OhmyGod,we’rearguingaboutthewayweargue!”Iinterrupt,unabletostopfromlaughing.
Garrett’sshouldersrelaxatthesoundofmylaughter.Hetakesasteptowardme,searchingmyface.“Iknowyou’reintome,Wellsy.AndI’mdefinitelyintoyou.Woulditreallybesobadifwemadethisthingofficial?”
Igulpagain.Ihatebeingputonthespot,andI’mtooconfusedtomakesenseofanythingrightnow.Actingonimpulseisn’tsomethingIdooften.Inevermakedecisionswithoutgivingthemcarefulthought,andalthoughothergirlsmightbreakoutincartwheelsatthethoughtofmakingthings“official”withGarrettGraham,I’mmorepragmaticthanthat.Ididn’texpecttolikethisguy.Ortohavesexwithhim.Ortobeinthepositionwherehemightbemyboyfriend.
“Idon’tknow,”Ifinallysay.“Imean,Ididn’treallythinkaboutyouandmeintermsofdating.Ijustwantedto…”Mycheeksgrowwarm“…exploretheattractionandseeif…youknow.ButIdidn’tthinkanyfartheraheadthanthat.”Myconfusiontriples,turningmymindtomush.“Ihavenoideawhatthisevenis,orwhereitcouldgo,or…”
AsItrailoff,InoticeGarrett’sexpression,andthehurtinhiseyescutsintomelikeaknife.
“Youdon’tknowwhatthisisorwhereitcouldgo?Jesus,Hannah.Ifyou…”Heletsoutashakybreath,hisbroadshoulderssagging.“Ifyouhonestlydon’tknow,thenwe’rewastingourtime.BecauseIknowexactlywhatitis.I—”Hehaltssoabruptlyitgivesmewhiplash.
“Youwhat?”Iwhisper.
“I—”Hestopsagain.Hisgrayeyesdarken.“Youknowwhat?Forgetit.Iguessyou’reright.Thiswasallaboutexploringtheattraction.”Hesoundsincreasinglybitter.“I’mjustyoursextherapist,right?Actually,no,I’myourfuckingfluffer.”
“Fluffer?”Isayblankly.
“Likeinporn,”hemutters.“Theybringinthefluffertosuckoffthedudesbetweentakessotheystayhard.”Angercolorshistone.“Thatwasmyjob,right?TogetyouniceandhotforKohl?Togetyoureadytobonehim?”
Indignationpricklesmyskin.“One,that’sdisgusting.Andtwo,that’snotfairandyouknowit.”
“Idon’tknowadamnthing,apparently.”
“HeaskedmeoutbeforeIsleptwithyou!AndIprobablywasn’tevengoingtogo!”
Garrettbarksoutaharshlaugh.“Youprobablyweren’tgoingto?Yeah.Thanksforthat.”Hetakesasteptothedoor.“Youknowwhat?Justgoonthedamndate.Yougotwhatyouwantedfromme.IguessJustincantakeitfromhere.”
“Garrett—”
Buthe’salreadygone.Notjustgone,butmakinghisexitknownasheslamsmydoor,thudsthroughthesuite,andslamsthatdoortoo.
Istareattheemptyspacehewastakingupasecondago.
Iknowexactlywhatitis
Garrett’shoarsewordsechoinmyhead,andaviseofemotionconstrictsmyheart,becauseI’mprettysureIknowexactlywhatitistoo.
AndI’mscaredthatbecauseofmysplit-secondmomentofindecision,Ijustthrewitallaway.32
GARRETT
ThetemperatureseemstohavedroppedtwentydegreesfromwhenIwalkedintoBristolHousetowhenIstormedoutofit.AfrigidgustofwindblastsmeinthefaceandchillsthetipsofmyearsasItrudgetowardtheparkinglot.
See?ThisiswhyIavoidthewholegirlfrienddrama.IshouldbeoverthefuckingmoontonightbecausetheteamcrushedHarvard.Instead,I’mpissedoffandfrustratedandmoreupsetthanIexpectedtobe.Hannah’sright—wewerejustfoolingaround.SamewayIwasfoolingaroundwithKendall,orthechickbeforeher,orthechickbeforethat.Ididn’tevenbataneyewhenIendeditwithanyofthem,sowhythehellamIsobummedrightnow?
ThankfuckIgotoutofthere,though.Ihadbeensecondsawayfrommakingacompletefoolofmyself.SayingthingsIshouldn’tbesaying,maybeevenbegging.Jesus.Ifthat’snotasignofsomeseriouspussy-whippingrightthere,thenIdon’tknowwhatis.
I’mhalfwaytomyJeepwhenIhearHannahcalloutmyname.
Mychestclenches.IturnaroundandseeherracingdownthepathfromBristoltothelot.She’sstillinherPJ’s—plaidpantsandablackT-shirtwithyellowmusicnotesdecaledonthefront.
I’mtemptedtokeepwalking,butthesightofherbarearmsandcold-flushedcheekspissesmeoffevenmorethanourfighthad.“JesusChrist,Hannah,”Imutterwhenshereachesme.“You’regonnacatchacold.”
“That’samyth,”sheshootsback.“Coldweatherdoesn’tcausecolds.”
Butshe’svisiblyshivering,andwhenshewrapsherarmsaroundherselfandstartsrubbingherbareskintokeepwarm,Irumbleinannoyanceandhurriedlyunzipmyjacket.
Grittingmyteeth,Idrapethecoatoverhershoulders.“Here.”
“Thanks.”ShelooksasannoyedasIfeel.“Whatthehelliswrongwithyou,Garrett?Youcan’tjuststormoffinthemiddleofaseriousdiscussion!”
“Therewasnothinglefttodiscuss.”
“Bullshit.”Sheangrilyshakesherhead.“Youdidn’tevenletmetalk!”
“Yes,Idid,”Ianswerflatly.“Andtrustme,yousaidplenty.”
“IcanbarelyrememberwhatIsaid.Youknowwhy?Becauseyoutotallycaughtmeoffguardanddidn’tevengivemeasecondtothinkaboutit.”
“What’stheretothinkabout?You’reeitherintome,oryou’renot.”
Hannahmakesafrustratednoise.“You’renotbeingfairagain.Justbecauseyousuddenlydecideyou’rereadyforarelationshipandthatweshouldbetogetherdoesn’tmeanthatI’mgoingtosqueallikeasororitygirlandsay,wheee,yay!Youclearlyhadtimetothinkaboutit,andabsorbit,butyoudidn’tgivemeanytimeatall.Youjustbargedinandmadeaccusationsandranout.”
Iexperienceapangofguilt.Shehasapoint.IdidcomeovertonightfullyknowingwhatIwantedfromher.
“I’msorryIdidn’ttellyouabouttheJustindate,”shesaysquietly.“ButI’mnotgoingtoapologizeforneedingmorethanfivefrickin’secondstothinkaboutthepossibilityofyouandmebeingacouple.”
Mybreathcomesoutinawhitepuffthatquicklygetscarriedawaybythewind.“I’msorryIranoff,”Iconcede.“ButI’mnotsorrythatIwanttobewithyou.”
Thosebeautifulgreeneyesprobemyface.“Doyoustillwantthat?”
Inod.ThenIgulp.“Doyou?”
“Depends.”Sheslantsherhead.“Willwebeexclusive?”
“Fuckyeah,”Isaywithouthesitation.Thethoughtofherseeinganyoneelseislikeamachetetothegut.
“Areyouokaywithtakingitslow?”Sheshiftsawkwardly.“Becausewiththeshowcasecomingup,andtheholidays,andexams,andyourgameschedule…we’llbothstarttogetbusyandIcan’tpromisetoseeyoueverysecondoftheday.”
“Weseeeachotherwhenweseeeachother,”Isaysimply.
I’msurprisedbyhowcalmIsound,howcomposedI’mstayingwhenthere’saherdofexcitedbutterfliesthumpinginmystomachandshoutinghellsyeahattop-volume.Jeez.I’mabouttocomplicatemylifebyinvitingagirlfriendintoit,yetsomehowI’monehundredpercentcoolwiththat.
“Thenokay.”Hannahsmilesatme.“Let’smakeitofficial.”
Adarkcloudobscuressomeofmyhappiness.“WhataboutJustin?”
“Whatabouthim?”
“Youtoldhimyou’dgooutwithhim,”Isaythroughclenchedteeth.
“Actually,IcanceledthedatebeforeIcameouthere.”
Thedumbbutterfliesinsidemetakeflightagain.“Youdid?”
Shenods.
“Soyou’renotallhotforhimanymore?”
Humordancesinhereyes.“I’mhotforyou,Garrett.Onlyyou.”
Justlikethat,myanxietydissolvesintoaburstofpurejoythatbringsagrintomylips.“Damnrightyouare.”
Rollinghereyes,shemovesinandrubshercoldcheekagainstmychin.“Nowcanwepleasegoinside?I’mfreezingmybuttoffandIneedmyfluffertowarmmeup.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Excuseme?”
Sheblinksinnocently.“Oh,I’msorry.DidIsayfluffer?”Hersmilelightsupherwholeface.“Imeantboyfriend.”
SweetestwordsI’veeverheardinmylife.33
HANNAH
Lifeisgood.
Lifeiswonderfully,amazingly,scarilygood.
ThesepasttwoweeksofdatingGarretthavebeenabluroflaughterandcuddlingandhotsex,intermingledwithreallifeeventslikeclassesandstudying,rehearsalsandhockeygames.GarrettandIforgedaconnectionthatcaughtmebysurprise,buteventhoughAlliecontinuestoteasemeaboutmysuddenabout-facewhenitcomestotheguy,Idon’tregretmydecisiontodatehimandseewherethingsgo.Sofar,it’sbeenworkingoutgreat.
Butsee,here’sthethingaboutlife.Whenit’sthisgood?
Somethinginevitablygoesbad.
“Iknowthisisaninconvenience,”saysFiona,myperformingartsadvisor.“ButI’mafraidthere’snothingIcandoexceptadviseyoutospeakdirectlytoMaryJaneand—”
“Noway,”Icutin,mystifffingerscurlingaroundthearmsofmychair.Istareattheprettyblondwomanacrossthedesk,andwonderhowshecanpossiblydescribethisatombombofadisasterasaninconvenience
AndshewantsmetotalktoMaryJane?
Fuck.That.
BecausewhythefuckwouldItalktothestupid,brainwashedbitchwhojustruinedanychanceIhadofwinningascholarship?
I’mstillreelingfromwhatFionatoldme.MaryJaneandCassdumpedme.TheyactuallygotpermissiontokickmeoutoftheduetsothatCasscansingitasasolo
Whatthehell
Yetinthebackofmymind,I’mnotevensurprised.Garretthadwarnedmesomethinglikethiscouldhappen.Ihadworriedaboutitmyself.ButneverinamillionyearshadIexpectedCasstodothisfourweeksbeforetheshowcase.
Orthatmyadvisorwouldbetotallyfuckingcoolwithit
Igritmyteeth.“I’mnottalkingtoMaryJane.It’sobviousshe’smadeuphermindaboutthis.”
Orrather,thatCasshadmadeitupforher,whenhe’dcajoledherintospeakingtoourrespectiveadvisorsandblubberingabouthowhercompositionissufferinginitsduetformandthatshe’spullingitoutoftheshowcaseifit’snotasolo.Ofcourse,Casshadquicklypointedoutthatitwouldbeegregioustowasteaperfectlygoodsong,andhe’dgraciouslyofferedtoletmesingit.Atwhichpoint,MaryJaneinsistedthatitshouldbesungbyamalevoice.
Fuckyouverymuch,MJ.
“SowhatamIsupposedtodonow?”Iaskinatightvoice.“Idon’thavetimetolearnanewsongandworkwithanewsongwriter.”
“No,youdon’t,”Fionaagrees.
NormallyIappreciateherno-nonsenseapproach,buttodayitmakesmewanttoslugher.
“Whichiswhy,giventhecircumstances,Cass’sadvisorandIagreedtobendtherulesforyou.Youwon’tbeteamingupwithacompositionmajor.We’veagreed—andthefacultyheadsignedoffonit—thatyoucansingoneofyourowncompositions.Iknowyouhavealotoforiginalsongsinyourrepertoire,Hannah.Andinfact,Ithinkthisisagreatopportunityforyoutoshowcasenotjustyourvoice,butyoursongwritingabilities.”Shepauses.“However,you’llonlybeeligibletowintheperformancescholarship,sincecompositionisn’tyourmajor.”
Mymindcontinuestospinlikeacarousel.Yes,thereareafeworiginalsIcansing,butnoneofthemareevenclosetobeingperformance-ready.
“Whyisn’tCassbeingpenalizedforthis?”Idemand.
“Look,Ican’tsayIapproveofwhatCassandMaryJanehavedone,butunfortunately,thisisoneofthedrawbacksofduetwork.”Fionasighs.“Everyyearthere’satleastoneduetpartnershipthatbreaksdownrightbeforetheshowcase.DoyourememberJoannaMaxwell?Shegraduatedlastyear?”
Beau’ssister.
Inod.
“Well,herduetpartnerbailedthreedaysbeforetheseniorshowcase,”Fionaconfides.
Iblinkinsurprise.“Really?”
“Oh,yeah.Let’sjustsayitwaspurechaosaroundhereforthosethreedays.”
Myspiritslift,justabit,whenIrememberthatnotonlydidJoannawinthescholarship,shealsocaughttheeyeofanagentwholatergotherthatauditioninNewYork.
“Youdon’tneedCassidyDonovan,Hannah.”Fiona’svoiceisfirm,ringingwithreassurance.“Youthriveasasoloperformer.That’syourstrength.”Shegivesmeapointedlook.“AsIrecall,that’sexactlywhatIadvisedatthebeginningoftheterm.”
Guiltwarmsmycheeks.Yep.Ican’tdenyit.Shehadtoldmeherconcernsabouttheprojectfromthestart,butIhadallowedCasstoconvincemethatwewouldbeapowerhousetogether.
“You’llhavewhateveryouneedtoprepare,”sheadds.“We’llrearrangetheschedulesoyou’llhaveaccesstorehearsalspacewheneveryouneedit,andifyourequireaccompaniment,anynumberoforchestrastudentscanhelpyouout.Isthereanythingelseyouthinkyoumightneed?”Atinysmiletugsonherlips.“Trustme,Cass’sadvisorisn’thappyaboutthiseither,soifthere’ssomethingyouwant,tellmenowandIcanprobablymakeithappenforyou.”
I’mabouttoshakemyhead,butthensomethingoccurstome.“Actually,thereissomethingIwant.IwantJae.Imean,KimJaeWoo.”
Fionafurrowsherbrow.“Who?”
“Thecellist.”Istickoutmychininfortitude.“Iwantthecellist.”
GARRETT
“Icannotbelievehedidthat!”Alliesoundslividfromhersideofthebooth,herblueeyesblazingasshelooksupatHannah.
MygirlfriendwearsthatI’m-trying-really-hard-not-to-show-how-furious-I-am-right-nowexpression,butIcansensethevolatileemotionsradiatingfromherbody.Shesmoothsoutthebottomofherapron.“Really?BecauseIcantotallybelieveit,”Hannahanswers.“Ibetthiswashisplanallalong.Drivemecrazyfortwomonthsandthenscrewmeoverrightbeforetheshow.”
“Fuckin’Cass,”Hannah’sfriendDextermuttersfromhisseatnexttoAllie.“Someoneneedstogivethatboyagoodass-kicking.”DexglancesatLoganandme.“Can’toneofyouhockeyplayersdoit?Roughhimupabit?”
“Gladly,”Logansayscheerfully.“What’shisaddress?”
Ijabmyfriendintheside.“We’renotbeatinganybodyup,jackass.NotunlessyouwanttofaceCoach’swrath—andasuspension.”IturntoHannahwitharuefullook.“Don’tworry,I’mbeatinghimupinmyhead,baby.Thatcounts,right?”
Shelaughs.“Sure.I’llallowit.”Shetucksherorderpadinherapronpocket.“I’llberightback.”
AsHannahheadsforthecounter,Iadmireherassforsolongitgetsmethreeloudsnickersfrommycompanions.Anddon’tgetmestartedonhowweirditistobesharingaboothwithmybestfriendandHannah’sbestfriends.
IwascertainthatHannah’sartsyfriendswouldbeallcondescendingandfrigidaroundme—especiallyaftershetoldmewhattheythinkaboutBriar’sjockcrowd—butIthinkmynaturalcharmhaswonthemover.AllieandDexalreadytreatmelikewe’vebeenbudsforyears.Stella,whodiscoveredherpassionforhockeyduringtheHarvardgame,nowtextsmeeveryotherdaytoaskhockeyquestions.AndwhilethatdudeJeremyisstillabitsnarkywheneverIseehim,hisgirlfriendMeganisprettycool,soI’mwillingtogivehimafewmorechancestonotbeadick.
“She’spissed,”LoganremarksashewatchesHannahchattingwiththecookbehindthepick-upcounter.
“Sheshouldbe,”repliesDex.“Seriously,whatkindofselfishdouchecanoedumpshisduetpartnerrightbeforeashow?”
Logansnickers.“Douchecanoe?I’mtotallystealingthatphrase.”
“She’llbefine,”Alliesaysconfidently.“Hannah’soriginalsareawesome.Shedoesn’tneedCass.”
“NooneneedsCass,”Dexagrees.“He’slikethehumanbeingequivalentofsyphilis.”
Aseveryonelaughs,ItunethemoutandfocusmyattentiononHannah.Ican’thelpbutrememberthefirsttimeIcametoDella’s,withthesolepurposeofpersuadingHannahtotutorme.Itwasonlyalittlemorethanamonthago,yetIfeellikeI’veknownherforever.
Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinkingtakingthatwholeanti-girlfriendposition.Becausehavingagirlfriend?Fuckingrocks.Seriously.IgettohavesexwheneverIwantwithouthavingtoworkforit.Ihavesomeonetoventtoafterashittydayoradevastatinglossontheice.IcanmaketheworstjokesontheplanetandchancesareHannahwilllaughatthem.
Oh,andIlovebeingwithher,plainandsimple.
Hannahreturnstoourboothcarryingourdrinkorders.Orrather,AllieandDex’sdrinkorders.LoganandIaskedforsodas,butwhatwegetiswater.
“Where’smyDr.Pepper,Wellsy?”Loganwhines.
Shelevelshimwithasternlook.“Doyouknowhowmuchsugarisinasoftdrink?”
“AperfectlyacceptableamountandthereforeIshoulddrinkit?”suppliesLogan.
“Wrong.Theansweristoodamnmuch.You’replayingMichiganinanhour—youcan’tgetallhoppeduponsugarbeforeagame.You’llgetafive-minuteenergyboostandthencrashhalfwaythroughthefirstperiod.”
Logansighs.“G,whyisyourgirlournutritionistnow?”
Ipickupmywaterglassandtakeasipofdefeat.“Doyouwanttoarguewithher?”
LoganlooksatHannah,whoseexpressionclearlyconveys:you’llgetasodaovermydeadbody.Thenhelooksbackatme.“No,”hesaysglumly.34
HANNAH
Myphonemeowsjustaftermidnight,butI’mnotasleep.Infact,I’mnoteveninmyPJ’syet.ThesecondIcamehomeafterwork,Igrabbedmyguitarandgotrightbacktoworkagain.NowthatCasshasthrownaselfish,vindictivewrenchintomylife,thingslike“sleep”and“relaxing”and“notpanicking”don’texistanymore.Forthenextmonth,I’mprettymuchgoingtobeawalkingbasketcase,unlessImagicallyfindawaytojuggleschool,work,Garrett,andsingingwithouthavinganervousbreakdown.
Iputdowntheacousticandcheckthescreen.It’sGarrett.
Him:Can’tsleep.Youup?
Me:Isthisabootycall?
Him:No.Douwantittobe?
Me:No.I’mrehearsing.Totallystressed
Him:Allthemorereasonforthistobeabootycall
Me:Keepitinyourpants,dude.Whycan’tusleep?
Him:Wholebodyhurts
Sympathyfluttersthroughmybelly.Garretthadcalledearliertosaythey’dlostthegame,andapparentlyhe’dtakensomebrutalhitstonight.Lasttimewetalked,hewasstillicinghisentiretorso.
I’mtoolazytotype,soIdialhisnumberandheanswersonthefirstring.
Hishuskyvoiceslidesintomyear.“Hey.”
“Hey.”Ileanbackagainstmypillow.“I’msorryIcan’tcomeoverandkissallyourboo-boos,butI’mworkingonthesong.”
“It’sokay.There’sonlyoneboo-booIwantyoutokiss,andyousoundtoodistractedforthat.”Hepauses.“I’mtalkingaboutmydick,bytheway.”
Ichokedownalaugh.“Yep.Igotthat.Noneedtoclarify.”
“Didyoudecidewhichsongyou’regoingtosing?”
“Ithinkso.It’stheoneIsangtoyoulastmonthwhenwewerestudying.Doyourememberit?”
“Yeah.Itwassad.”
“Sadisgood.Packsmoreofanemotionalpunch.”Ihesitate.“Iforgottoaskyouearlier—wasyourdadatthegame?”
Apause.“Henevermissesone.”
“DidhebringupThanksgivingagain?”
“No,thankfuck.Hedoesn’tevenlookatmewhenwelose,soIwasn’texpectinghimtobechatty.”Garrett’svoiceisthickwithbitterness,andthenIhearhimclearhisthroat.“Putmeonspeakerphone.Iwanttohearyousing.”
Myheartsqueezeswithemotion,butItrytohidetheresponsebydonningacasualtone.“Youwantmetosingyoualullaby?Aren’tyouprecious.”
Hechuckles.“Mychestfeelslikesitgothitbyatruck.Ineedadistraction.”
“Fine.”Ihitthespeakerbuttonandreachformyguitar.“Feelfreetohangupifyougetbored.”
“Baby,Icouldwatchyouwatchingpaintdry,andIstillwouldn’tbebored.”
GarrettGraham,myownpersonalsweet-talker.
Isettletheacousticonmylapandsingthesongfromthetop.Mydoorisclosed,andalthoughthewallsinthedormarepaper-thin,I’mnotworriedaboutwakingAllie.ThefirstthingIdidafterFionatoldmeabouttheduetwasgiveAllieapairofearplugsandwarnherthatI’mgoingtobesinginglateintothenightuntiltheshowcase.
Weirdlyenough,I’mnotangryanymore.I’mrelieved.Casshadturnedourduetintothekindofflashy,jazz-handsperformancethatIdespise,soasinfuriatingasitistogetdumped,I’vedecidedI’mbetteroffnothavingtosingwithhim.
Irunthroughthesongthreetimes,untilmyvoicegoeshoarseandIfinallyhavetostoptochugthebottleofwateronmynightstand.
“Stillhere,youknow.”
Garrett’svoicestartlesme.ThenIlaugh,becauseIhonestlyforgothewasontheline.“Icouldn’tputyoutosleep,huh?Idon’tknowifIshouldbeflatteredorinsulted.”
“Flattered.Yourvoicegivesmechills.Makesitimpossibletofallasleep.”
Ismile,eventhoughhecan’tseeme.“Ineedtofigureoutwhattodoaboutthatlastchorus.Endhighorlowonthelastnote?Oooh,andmaybeIshouldswitchupthemiddlesectiontoo.Youknowwhat?Ihaveanidea.I’mhangingupnowsoIcanfigureitout,andyouneedtogotosleep.Night,dude.”
“Wellsy,wait,”hesaysbeforeIcanhangup.
Itakethephoneoffspeakerandbringittomyear.“What’sup?”
I’mgreetedbythelongestpauseever.
“Garrett?Youthere?”
“Uh,yeah.Sorry.Stillhere.”Aheavybreathreverberatesthroughtheline.“WillyoucomehomewithmeforThanksgiving?”
Ifreeze.“Areyouserious?”
Anotherpause,evenlongerthanthefirst.Ialmostexpecthimtorescindtheinvitation.AndIdon’tthinkI’dbeupsetifhedid.KnowingwhatIdoaboutGarrett’sfather,I’mnotsureifIcansitacrossadinnertablefromthatmanwithoutreachingovertostranglehim.
Whatkindofmanhitshisownson?Histwelve-year-oldson.
“Ican’tgobacktherealone,Hannah.Willyoucome?”
Hisvoicecracksonthoselastwords,andsodoesmyheart.Iletoutashakybreathandsay,“OfcourseIwill.”35
HANNAH
Garrett’sfather’shouseisnotthemansionIexpectedittobe,butabrownstoneinBeaconHill,whichIsupposeisBoston’sequivalentofmansionliving.Theareaisgorgeous,though.I’vebeentoBostonseveraltimes,butnevertothisritzypartofit,andIcan’thelpbutadmirethebeautifulnineteenth-centuryrowhouses,bricksidewalks,andquaintgaslampsliningthenarrowstreets.
Garrettbarelysaidawordduringthetwo-hourdriveintothecity.Tensionhasbeenrollingoffhissuit-cladbodyinsteady,palpablewaves,whichhasonlysucceededinmakingmeevenmorenervous.Andyes,Isaidsuit-clad,becausehe’swearingblacktrousers,acrispwhitedressshirt,andablackjacketandtie.Theexpensivematerialfitshismuscularbodylikeadream,andeventheperma-scowlonhisfacedoesn’ttakeawayfromhissheerhotness.
Apparentlyhisfatherdemandedhewearasuit.AndwhenPhilGrahamfoundouthissonwasbringingadate,herequestedthatIalsodressformally,hencemyfancybluedress,whichIworetolastyear’sspringshowcase.Thesilkymaterialfallstomyknees,andIpaireditwithfour-inchsilverheelsthatmadeGarrettgrinwhenheshowedupatmydoor,asheinformedmethathemightnowactuallybeabletokissmestandingupwithoutgettingacrickinhisneck.
We’regreetedatthefrontdoorsnotbyGarrett’sdad,butbyaprettyblondeinaredcocktailgownthatfluttersaroundherankles.She’salsowearingalacyblackoverlaywithfullsleeves,whichIfindoddbecauseit’slikeamilliondegreesinsidethehouse.Seriously,it’shotinhere,andIwastenotimeshruggingoutofmypeacoatintheelegantparlor.
“Garrett,”thewomansayswarmly.“It’swonderfultofinallymeetyou.”
Sheappearstobeinhermid-thirties,butit’shardtojudgebecauseshe’sgotwhatIliketocall“oldeyes.”Thosedeep,wiseeyesthatrevealapersonhaslivedthroughseverallifetimesalready.I’mnotsurewhyIgetthatsense.Nothingaboutherelegantoutfitorperfectsmilehintsthatshe’sseenhardtimes,butthetraumasurvivorinmeimmediatelyfeelsanoddkinshipwithher.
Garrettanswersinabrusque,butpolitevoice.“It’snicetomeetyoutoo…?”
Heletsthathang,andherpaleblueeyesflickerwithunhappiness,asifshe’srealizedthatGarrett’sfatherhadn’ttoldhissonthenameofthewomanhewasdating.
Hersmilefaltersforabeatbeforesteadying.“Cindy,”shefillsin.“AndyoumustbeGarrett’sgirlfriend.”
“Hannah,”Isupply,leaningintoshakeherhand.
“It’sapleasuretomeetyou.Yourfatherisinthesittingroom,”shetellsGarrett.“He’sveryexcitedtoseeyou.”
NeitherCindynorImissthesardonicsnortthatsoundsfromGarrett’sdirection.Isqueezehishandinasilentwarningtobenice,allthewhilewonderingwhatshemeansby“sittingroom.”Ialwaysassumedthatsittingroomswerewhererichpeoplegatheredaroundtodrinktheirsherryorbrandybeforesaunteringintotheirthirty-seatdiningrooms.
Buttheinteriorofthebrownstoneisalotlargerthanitlooksfromtheoutside.Wewalkpasttworooms—alivingroom,andyetanotherlivingroom—beforewereachthesittingroom.Whichlookslike…anotherlivingroom.Ithinkaboutmyparents’cozysplitlevelinRansomandhowthatmeaslythree-bedroomhousehasnearlybankruptedthem,anditbringsarushofsorrow.Itdoesn’tseemfairthatamanlikePhilGrahamshouldhavealltheseroomsandthemoneytofurnishthem,whilegoodpeoplelikemyparentsareworkingsohardtokeeptheirroofovertheirheads.
Whenwewalkin,Garrett’sdadisinabrownwing-backedchair,balancingatumblerofamberliquidonhisknee.LikeGarrett,he’swearingasuit,andtheresemblancebetweenthemisjarring.Theyhavethesamegrayeyes,thesamestrongjawandchiseledface,butPhil’sfeaturesseemsharper,andhehaswrinklesaroundhismouth,asifhescowledonetoomanytimesandhismusclesfrozeinthatposition.
“Phil,thisisHannah,”CindysayscheerilyasshesettlesontheplushloveseatnexttoPhil’schair.
“It’snicetomeetyou,Mr.Graham,”Isaypolitely.
Henodsatme.
That’sit.Anod
Ihavenoideawhattosayafterthat,andmypalmgoesclammyinGarrett’shand.
“Haveaseat,youtwo.”Cindygesturestotheleathersofaneartheelectricfireplace.
Isit.
Garrettremainsstanding.Hedoesn’tsayawordtohisfather.OrtoCindy.Ortome.
Ohfuck.Ifhe’splanningonkeepingupthissilentroutineallnight,thenwe’reinforonelongandawkwardThanksgiving.
Absolutesilencestretchesbetweenthefourofus.
Irubmydamphandsonmykneesandtrytosmile,butIfeellikeitmightactuallybeagrimace.“So…nofootball?”Isaylightly,glancingattheflatscreenmountedonthewall.“IthoughtthatwasaThanksgivingtradition.”Godknowsit’sallmyfamilydoeswhenwegotoAuntNicole’sfortheholiday.MyuncleMarkisarabidfootballfan,andeventhoughtherestofuspreferhockey,westillhaveagoodtimewatchingtheall-daygamefestonTV.
Garrett,however,refusedtoshowupanyearlierthanhehadto,sotheafternoongameshavealreadybeenwonandlost.I’mprettysuretheDallasgameisjuststarting,though.
Cindyisquicktoshakeherhead.“Phildoesn’tlikefootball.”
“Oh,”Isay.
Cue:moresilence.
“So,Hannah,whatareyoumajoringin?”
“Music.Vocalperformance,tobeexact.”
“Oh,”shesays.
Silence.
Garrettrestshisshoulderagainstthetalloakbookcasenearthedoor.Isneakapeekinhisdirectionandnoticethathisexpressioniscompletelyvacant.IsneakapeekinPhil’sdirectionandnoticethathisexpressionisthesame.
OhGod.Idon’tthinkI’llbeabletosurvivethisnight.
“Somethingsmellswonderful—”Istart.
“Ishouldgocheckontheturkey—”Cindystarts.
Webothlaughawkwardly.
“Letmehelpyouwiththat.”Ipracticallydivetomyfeet,whichisabigoh-no-nowhenyou’rewearingfour-inchheels.Iswayforoneheart-stoppingmoment,terrifiedI’mgoingtotoppleover,butthenmyequilibriumsteadiesandI’mabletotakeastepwithoutfalling.
Yep,I’materriblegirlfriend.Uncomfortablesituationsmakemenervousanditchy,andasmuchasIwanttostickbyGarrett’ssideandhelphimthroughthishellofanight,Ican’tstomachthethoughtofbeingtrappedinaroomwithtwomaleswhoseanimosityistaintingalltheoxygenintheroom.
ShootingGarrettanapologeticlook,ItrailafterCindy,wholeadsmeintoalarge,modernkitchenwithstainlesssteelappliancesandblackmarblecounters.Thedeliciousaromasarestrongerhere,andthereareenoughtin-foil-covereddishesonthecountertofeedanentirethird-worldcountry.
“Didyoucookallthis?”Iexclaim
Sheturnswithashysmile.“Idid.Ilovetocook,butPhilrarelygivesmethechancetodoit.Hepreferstodineout.”
Cindyslipsonapairofplushmittsbeforeopeningtheovendoor.“SohowlonghaveyouandGarrettbeenseeingeachother?”sheasksconversationally,settingtheenormousturkeypanonthestovetop.
“Aboutamonth.”Iwatchassheliftsthealuminumfoiloffthemassivebird.“WhataboutyouandMr.Graham?”
“Alittleoverayearnow.”Herbackisturnedtome,soIcan’tseeherexpression,butsomethingabouthertoneraisesmyguard.“WemetatacharityeventIwasorganizing.”
“Oh.Areyouaneventplanner?”
Shesticksathermometerintothebreastareaoftheturkey,thenthelegs,andhershouldersvisiblyrelax.“It’sready,”shemurmurs.“Andtoansweryourquestion,Iwasaneventplanner,butIsoldmycompanyafewmonthsago.PhilsaidhemissesmetoomuchwhenI’matwork.”
Um.What?
Ican’timagineevergivingupmyjobbecausethemaninmylifemissesmetoomuchwhenI’matwork.Tome,that’saredflagifIeversawone.
“Oh.That’s…nice.”Igesturetothecounter.“Doyouwantmetohelpyouheateverythingup?Orarewenoteatingrightaway?”
“Philexpectstoeatthemomenttheturkeyisready.”Shelaughs,butitsoundsforced.“Whenhesetsaschedule,heexpectseveryonetofollowit.”Cindypointstothelargebowlbythemicrowave.“Youcanstartbyheatingupthepotatoes.Istillneedtomakethegravy.”Sheholdsupagravymixpacket.“UsuallyImakeitfromscratchusingtheturkeyjuices,butwe’restrappedfortime,sothiswillhavetodo.”
Sheturnsofftheovenandplacestheturkeyonthecounterbeforeturningherattentiontothegravy.Thewalloverthestoveiscoveredwithhooksofpotsandpans,andasshereachesuptograbone,herlacysleevesrideup,andeitherI’mimaginingit,orthere’sbluish-blackbruisingontheundersidesofbothherwrists.
Asifsomeonegrabbedher.Hard.
Herarmscomedownandthesleevescoverherforearms,andIdecidethattheblacklacewasplayingtricksonmyeyes.
“DoyouliveherewithMr.Grahamordoyouhaveyourownplace?”IaskasIwaitforthemashedpotatoestofinishnuking.
“ImovedinwithPhilabouttwoweeksafterwemet,”sheadmits.
Ihavetobeimaginingthings,becausethere’snowaythatchordinhervoiceisbitterness,right?
“Oh.That’skindofimpulsive.Youguyshardlyevenkneweachother,huh?”
“No.Wedidn’t.”
Okay,I’mnotimaginingit.
That’sabsolutelybitterness.
Cindyglancesoverhershoulder,anunmistakableflickerofsorrowinhereyes.“I’mnotsureanyoneevertoldyouthis,butspontaneityhasthetendencytobackfireonyou.”
Ihavenocluehowtorespond.
SoIsay,“Oh.”
IgetthefeelingI’mgoingtobesayingthatwordalottonight.36
GARRETT
Hehitsher.
Thesonofabitchhitsher.
ItonlytakesthirtyminutesinCindy’scompanyformetoreachthatconclusion.Topickuponthesigns.Iseeitinthewaysheflincheswheneverhetouchesher.Justslightly,andprobablyunnoticeabletoanyoneelse,butit’sthesamewaymymotherwouldrespondeachtimehecamenearher.Itwasalmostlikeshewasanticipatingthenextstrikeofhisfist,orhispalm,orhisfuckingfoot.
Butthat’snottheonlywarningsignCindyisbroadcasting.Thelong-sleevedlacythingoverherreddressisadeadgiveaway—I’vefuckedenoughsororitygirlstoknowthatyoudon’tmatchwhiteheelswithablackjacket.Andthenthere’sthesparkoffearthatflicksthroughhereyeswhenevermyfathersomuchastwitchesinhischair.Thesaddroopofhershoulderswhenhetellsherthatthegravyistoowatery.Theslewofcomplimentsshegiveshimbecauseshe’sobviouslytryingtokeephimhappy.No,tokeephimcalm
We’rehalfwaythroughdinner,mytieischokingthelifeoutofme,andI’mnotcertainIcancontrolmyrageanymore.Idon’tthinkIcanmakeittodessertwithoutattackingtheoldmananddemandingtoknowhowhecanpossiblydothistoanotherwoman.
CindyandHannaharechattingaboutsomething.Ihavenocluewhatitis.MyfingersgripmyforksotightI’msurpriseditdoesn’tsnapinhalf.
HetriedtotalktomeabouthockeyearlierwhenHannahandCindywereinthekitchen.Itriedtalkingback.I’msureIevenmanagedtoformpropersentences,withsubjectsandpredicatesandallthatshit.ButfromthesecondHannahandIwalkedintothisgodforsakenhouse,mymindhasbeensomewhereelse.Everyroomholdsamemorythatbringsbiletomythroat.
Thekitcheniswherehebrokemynoseforthefirsttime.
UpstairsiswhereIgotthebruntofit,usuallyinmybedroom,whereIdon’tdareventuretonightbecauseI’mscaredthewallsmightcloseinonme.
Thelivingroomiswhereheslammedmeagainstthewallaftermyeighth-gradeleaguedidn’tmakeittotheplayoffs.Inoticedhehungapaintingovertheholeinthedrywall,though.
“Soyeah,”Hannahissaying.“NowI’msingingasolo,whichiswhatIshould’vedoneinthefirstplace.”
Cindymakesasympatheticnoisewithhertongue.“Thisboysoundslikeaselfishass.”
“Cynthia,”myfathersayssharply.“Language.”
Thereitisagain—thatflinch.Theweak“I’msorry”shouldcomenext,buttomysurprise,shedoesn’tapologize.
“Youdon’tagree,Phil?ImagineyouwerestillplayingfortheRangersandyourgoalieleftyouinthelurchrightbeforethefirstgameintheStanleyCupseries.”
Myfather’sjawstiffens.“Thetwosituationsaren’tcomparable.”
Shequicklybackpedals.“No,Iguessthey’renot.”
Ishovelaforkfulofmashedpotatoesandstuffingintomymouth.
Myfather’scoolgazetravelstoHannah.“Howlonghaveyoubeenseeingmyson?”
Fromthecornerofmyeye,Iseehershiftindiscomfort.“Amonth.”
Henods,almostlikehe’spleasedtohearit.Whenhespeaksagain,Irealizepreciselywhathe’spleasedabout.“It’snotserious,then.”
Hannahfrowns.
Ido,too,becauseIknowwhathe’sthinking.No,whathe’shoping.ThatthisthingwithHannahisjustafling.Thatit’llfizzleoutsoonerratherthanlaterandthenIcangobacktofocusingexclusivelyonhockey.
Buthe’swrong.Hell,Iwaswrong,too.Ithoughthavingagirlfriendwoulddistractmefrommygoalsandsplitmyfocus,butithasn’t.IlovebeingwithHannah,butIhaven’tlostsightofhockeyeither.I’mstillbringingitinpractice,stillsmokingmyopponentsontheice.ThislastmonthhasshownmethatIcanhaveHannahandhockeyinmylife,andgivebothofthemtheattentiontheydeserve.
“DidGarretttellyouhe’splanningongoingproaftergraduation?”myfatherasks.
Hannahnodsinresponse.
“Oncehesignswithateam,hisschedulewillbecomeevenmorehectic.Iimagineyourswill,too.”Myfatherpurseshislips.“Wheredoyouseeyourselfaftergraduation?Broadway?Recordinganalbum?”
“Ihaven’tdecidedyet,”shereplies,reachingforherwaterglass.
Inoticethatherplateisempty.She’sfinishedallherfood,buthasn’taskedforseconds.NeitherhaveI,thoughIcan’tdenythatCindy’scookingisfuckingfantastic.Ihaven’teatenaturkeythatjuicyinyears.
“Well,themusicindustryisatoughonetobreakinto.Requiresalotofhardworkandperseverance.”Myfatherpauses.“Andanincredibleamountoffocus.”
“I’mwellawareofthat.”Hannah’slipsformatightline,asifshehasamillionmorethingstosaybutisforcingherselfnotto.
“Professionalsportsisthesameway,”mydadsayspointedly.“Requiresthatsameleveloffocus.Distractionscanbecostly.”Hisheadtipstowardme.“Isn’tthatright,son?”
IreachforHannah’shandandcoverherknuckleswithmypalm.“Somedistractionsareworthit.”
Hisnostrilsflare.
“Lookslikeeveryonehasfinishedeating,”Cindyblurtsout.“Howaboutsomedessert?”
Mystomachchurnsatthethoughtofspendingevenanothersecondinthishouse.“Actually,HannahandIhavetogo,”Isayroughly.“Theweatherforecastcalledforsnowtonightsowewanttoheadbackbeforetheroadsgetbad.”
Cindy’sheadswivelstothefloor-to-ceilingwindowontheothersideofthediningroom.Beyondtheglass,thereisn’taspeckofwhiteintheairorontheground.
ButGodblessher,shedoesn’tcommentonthesnow-freestateofthestreet.Ifanything,shelooksalmostrelievedthatthisuncomfortableeveningisabouttocometoanend.
“I’llclearthetable,”Hannahoffers.
Cindynods.“Thanks,Hannah.Iappreciateit.”
“Garrett.”Myfatherscrapeshischairback.“Aword.”
Thenhewalksout.
Fuckhimandhisfuckingwords.Thebastarddidn’teventhankhisgirlfriendforthelovelymealsheprepared.I’msogoddamnsickofthisman,butIswallowmyangerandfollowhimoutofthediningroom.
“Whatdoyouwant?”Idemandonceweenterhisstudy.“Anddon’tbotherorderingmetostayfordessert.IcamehomeforThanksgiving,weatesometurkey,andnowI’mleaving.”
“Idon’tgiveashitaboutdessert.Weneedtotalkaboutthatgirl.”
“Thatgirl?”Ilaughharshly.“YoumeanHannah?Becauseshe’snotjustsomegirl.She’smygirlfriend.”
“She’saliability,”hesnaps.
Irollmyeyes.“Howdoyoufigure?”
“Youlosttwoofyourlastthreegames!”heroars.
“Andthat’sherfault?”
“Damnrightitis!She’smakingyoulosesightofthegame.”
“I’mnottheonlyplayerontheteam,”Isayflatly.“AndI’mnottheonlyonewhomademistakesduringthosegames.”
“Youtookacostlypenaltyinthelastone,”hespitsout.
“Yeah,Idid.Bigfuckingdeal.We’restillnumberoneinourconference.Stillnumbertwooverall.”
“Numbertwo?”He’sshoutingnow,hishandsformingtightfistsashetakesasteptowardme.“Andyou’rehappywithbeingnumbertwo?Iraisedyoutobenumberone,youlittleshit!”
Onceuponatime,thoseblazingeyesandredcheekswouldhavemademeflinch,too.Butnotanymore.OnceIturnedsixteenandgainedtwoinchesandfortypoundsonmyfather,IrealizedInolongerhadtobeafraidofhim.
I’llneverforgetthelookinhiseyesthefirsttimeIfoughtback.Hisfisthadbeencomingtowardmyface,andinamomentofclarity,IrealizedIcouldblockit.Ididn’thavetostandthereandtaketheabuseanymore.Icoulddishitrightbackathim.
AndIdid.Istillrememberthesatisfyingcrunchofmyknuckleswhentheyconnectedwithhisjaw.Evenashe’dgrowledinfury,there’dbeengenuineshock—andfear—inhiseyesashe’dstumbledbackwardfromtheforceoftheimpact.
Thatwasthelasttimeheeverraisedahandtome.
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”Itaunt,noddingathisfists.“Hitme?What,you’retiredoftakingitoutonthatnicewomanoutthere?”
Hisentirebodygoesstifferthangranite.
“YouthinkIdon’tknowyou’reusingherasyourpunchingbag?”Ihissout.
“Watchyourfuckingmouth,boy.”
Thefuryinmygutboilsover.“Fuckyou,”Ihurlout.MybreathinggoesshallowasIstareintohisenragedeyes.“Howcouldyoulayahandonher?Howcouldyoulayahandonanyone?Whatthefuckisthematterwithyou?”
Hestalkstowardme,stoppingwhenwe’reamerefootapart.ForasecondIthinkhemightactuallystrikeme.Ialmostwanthimto.ThatwayIcanstrikeback.Icansmashmyfistsintohispatheticfaceandshowhimwhatit’sliketogetbeatonbysomeonewho’ssupposedtoloveyou.
Butmyfeetstayrootedinplace,myhandspressedtightlyagainstmysides.BecausenomatterhowbadlyIwanttodoit,Iwillneverlowermyselftohislevel.Iwillneverlosecontrolofmytemperandbelikehim
“Youneedhelp,”Ichokeout.“Seriously,oldman.Youneedsomefuckinghelp,andIreallyhopeyougetitbeforeyouhurtthatwomananymorethanyoualreadyhave.”
Istaggeroutofhisstudy.Mylegswobblesohardit’samiracletheymanagetocarrymeallthewaytothekitchen,whereIfindHannahrinsingplatesatthesink.Cindyisloadingthedishwasher.Bothwomenglanceoveratmyentrance,andboththeirfacesgopale.
“Cindy.”Iclearmythroat,butthemassivelumpremains.“I’msorrytostealHannahaway,butwehavetogonow.”
Afteralongbeat,theblonde’sheadjerksinaquicknod.“That’sfine.Icandotherest.”
Hannahshutsoffthefaucetandapproachesmeslowly.“Areyouokay?”
Ishakemyhead.“Canyougowaitinthecar?IneedtotalktoCindyforamoment.”
Ratherthanleavethekitchen,HannahwalksbacktoCindy,hesitates,thengivesthewomanawarmhug.“Thankyousomuchfordinner.HappyThanksgiving.”
“HappyThanksgiving,”Cindymurmurswithastrainedsmile.
Ireachintotheinnerpocketofmyjacketandextractmykeys.“Here.Getitstartedforus,”ItellHannah.
Sheexitstheroomwithoutanotherword.
Takingabreath,IcrossthetiledfloorandstanddirectlyinfrontofCindy.Tomyhorror,shereactswiththattiny,fearfulflinchI’vebeenwitnessingallnight.Asifthisisalikefather,likesonsituation.AsifI’mgoingto…
“I’mnotgoingtohurtyou.”Myvoicecrackslikeafuckingegg.IfeelsickthatIevenhavetoassureherofthat.
Panicfloodshereyes.“What?Oh,honey,no.Ididn’tthink…”
“Yes,youdid,”Isayquietly.“It’sokay.I’mnottakingitpersonally.Iknowwhatit’sliketo…”Iswallow.“Look,Idon’thavealotoftimehere,becauseIneedtogetthehelloutofthishousebeforeIdosomethingImightregret,butIjustneedyoutoknowsomething.”
Sheuneasilyletsgoofthedishwasherdoor.“Whatisit?”
“I…”AnotherdeepgulpandthenIgetrighttothepoint,becausereally,neitheroneofuswantstobehavingthisconversation.“Hedidittomeandmymom,too,okay?Heabusedus,physicallyandverbally,foryears.”
Herlipspart,butshedoesn’tsayaword.
MyheartsqueezesasIforcemyselftokeepgoing.“He’snotagoodman.He’sdangerous,andviolent,and…sick.He’ssick.Youdon’thavetotellmewhathe’sdoingtoyou.Orhell,maybeI’mwrongandhe’snotdoinganything—butIthinkheis,becauseIseeitinthewayyouactaroundhim.Iactedthatwaytoo.EverymoveImade,everywordIsaid…everythingIdidwasrootedinfear,becauseIwasdesperateforhimnottobeattheshitoutofmeagain.”
HerstrickenlookisalltheconfirmationIneed.
“Anyway.”Iinhaledeeply.“I’mnotgoingtodragyououtofhereovermyshoulder,orcallthecopsandtellthemthere’sdomesticabusegoingoninthishouse.It’snotmyplace,andIwon’tinterfere.ButIneedyoutoknowacouplethings.One—it’snotyourfault.Don’tyoueverblameyourself,becauseit’sallonhim.Youdidnothingtoinvitehiscriticismandhisverbalattacks,andyoudidn’tfailtomeethisexpectationsbecausehisexpectationsarefuckingimpossibletomeet.”Mychestseizessohardmyribsache.“Andtwo,ifyoueverneedanything,anythingatall,Iwantyoutocallme,okay?Ifyouneedtotalk,orifyouwanttoleavehimandneedsomeonetohelpyoupackormoveorwhatever,callme.Orifhe…doessomethingandyouneedhelp,forfuck’ssake,callme.Canyoupromisetodothat?”
Cindylooksstunned.Completelyandutterlystunned.Herblueeyesareglassy,andshestartsblinkingfast,asifshe’stryingtowardofftears.
Thekitchenbecomesassilentasafuneralhome.Shejuststaresatme,blinkingwildly,thefingersofonehandtoyingwithhersleeve.
Afterwhatfeelslikeaneternity,shegivesashakynodandwhispers,“Thankyou.”
HeatblastsfromtheairventswhenIslideintothedriver’sseat.Hannahhasstartedtheengineandshe’salreadybuckledup,asifshe’sasdesperatetogetawayfromhereasIam.
Iputthecarindriveandspeedawayfromthecurb,needingtoputdistancebetweenmeandthatbrownstone.IfI’mluckyenoughtoplayforBostononeday,IplanonlivingasfarawayfromBeaconHillaspossible.
“So…thatwaskindofbrutal,”Hannahremarks.
Ican’tstopthelaughthatshuddersout.“Kindof?”
Shesighs.“Iwastryingtobediplomatic.”
“Don’tbother.Thatwasanightmarefromstarttofinish.”Myfingerscurlaroundthesteeringwheelsotightlymyknucklesturnwhite.“Hehitsher.”
There’sabeatofsilence,butwhenHannahanswers,it’swithregretandnotsurprise.“Ithoughtthatmightbethecase.HersleevesrodeupinthekitchenandIthoughtIsawsomebruisesonherwrists.”
Therevelationsendsafreshboltofangerwhippingthroughme.Damnit.ApartofmewasstillhopingImightbewrongaboutCindy.
SilencesettlesbetweenusasIheadforthehighwayramp.Myhandrestsonthegearshift,andHannahcoversitwithhers.Shestrokesmyknuckles,hergentletoucheasingsomeofthepressureinmychest.
“Shewasscaredofme,”Imumble.
Thistime,Hannahdoessoundsurprised.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“WhenIwasaloneinthekitchenwithCindy,Itookastepcloserandsheflinched.Sheflinched,likeshewasscaredImighthurther.”Mythroatclogsup.“Imean,Igetit.Mymomwasjumpy,too.SowasI.But…fuck.Ican’tbelieveshethoughtIwascapableofhurtingher.”
SadnesssoftensHannah’svoice.“It’sprobablynotjustyou.Ifhe’sabusingher,thenshe’sprobablyscaredofanyonewhocomesnearher.Iwasthesamewayforawhileaftertherape.Jumpy,nervous,suspiciousofeveryone.ItwasalongtimebeforeIwasfinallyabletorelaxaroundstrangers,andevennow,there’sstillthingsIwon’tdo.Likedrinkinpublic.Well,unlessyou’retheretoplaybodyguard.”
Iknowthatlastlineisanattempttomakemesmile,butitdoesn’t.I’mstillpreoccupiedbyCindy’sreaction
Infact,Idon’tfeelliketalkinganymore.Ijust…can’t.Fortunately,Hannahdoesn’tpushme.Ilovethatabouther,howshenevertriestofillsilenceswithforcedconversation.
SheasksifI’mokaywithmusic,andwhenInod,sheplugsinherphoneandloadsupaplaylistthatdoesmakemesmile.It’stheclassicrocksetIemailedherwhenwefirstmet,thoughInoticeshedoesn’tstartitfromthefirstsong.Becausethefirstsonghappenstobemymother’sfavorite,andI’mprettysurethatifIhearitrightnow,I’llburstintotears.
WhichjustgoestoshowthatHannahWellsis…amazing.She’ssofuckingattunedtome,mymoods,mypain.I’veneverbeenwithanyonewhocanreadmesowell.
Anhourgoesby.Iknowit’sanhourbecausethat’showlongtheplaylistlasts,andwhenitends,Hannahputsonadifferentmix,whichmakesmesmiletoobecauseitconsistsofawholelotofRatPack,Motown,andBrunoMars.
I’mcalmnow.Well,calmer.EverytimeIfeellikeI’mrelaxing,IrememberCindy’sfear-riddeneyesandthepressuresqueezesmychestagain.Asuncertaintieseddyinmygut,Iforcemyselfnottodwellontheonequestionthatkeepsprickingatmybrain,butasIspeedofftheexitrampanddrivetowardthetwo-laneroadthatwilltakeustoHastings,thequestionpopsupagainandthistimeIcan’tbatitaway.
“WhatifI’mcapableofit?”
Hannahturnsdownthevolume.“What?”
“WhatifI’mcapableofhurtingsomeone?”Iaskhoarsely.“WhatifI’mjustlikehim?”
Sheanswerswithabsoluteconviction.“You’renot.”
Miserycrawlsupmyspine.“Ihavehistemper,IknowIdo.Iwantedtostranglehimtonight.”Ipressmylipstogether.“Ittookallmywillpowernottothrowhimintoawallandbeathimtodeath.Butitwasn’tfuckingworthit.He’snotworthit.”
Shereachesformyhandandlacesherfingersthroughmine.“Andthat’swhyyou’renotlikehim.Youhavethatwillpower,andthatmeansyoudon’thavehistemper.Becausehecan’tcontrolhis.Heletstheangerfuelhim,drivehimtohurtthepeoplearoundhim,peoplewhoareweakerthanhim.”Hergriponmyhandtightens.“WhatwouldyoudoifIpissedyouoffrightnow?”
Iblink.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Let’spretendwe’renotinthecarrightnow.We’reinmyroom,oryourhouse,andI…Idon’tknow,tellyouthatIsleptwithsomeoneelse.No,ItellyouthatI’vebeensleepingwiththeentirehockeyteamsincethesecondwemet.”
Thethoughtmakesmyinsidesclench.
“Whatwouldyoudo?”sheprompts.
Iturntoherwithafrown.“I’denditandwalkoutthedoor.”
“That’sit?Youwouldn’tbetemptedtohitme?”
Irecoilinhorror.“Ofcoursenot.Jesus.”
“Exactly.”Herpalmmovesgentlyovermycoldknuckles.“Becauseyou’renotlikehim.Nomatterhowangrysomeonemadeyou,youwouldn’thitthem.”
“That’snottrue.I’vegottenintoabrawlortwoontheice,”Iadmit.“AndonetimeIpunchedaguyatMalone’s,butthat’s’causehesaidsomenastyshitaboutLogan’smomandIcouldn’tnotthrowdownformyfriend.”
Shesighs.“I’mnotsayingyou’reincapableofviolence.Everyoneiscapableofit.I’msayingyouwouldn’thurtsomeoneyoulove.Atleastnotintentionally.”
IpraytoGodshe’sright.ButwhenyouinheritedyourDNAfromamanwhodoeshurtthepeopleheloves,whothehellknows.
Myhandsstarttoshake,andIknowHannahfeelsitbecauseshesqueezesmyrighthandtosteadyit.“Pullover,”shesays.
Ifrownagain.We’redrivingdownadarkstretchofroad,andeventhoughtherearenoothercarsinsight,Idon’tliketheideaofstoppinginthemiddleofnowhere.“Why?”
“BecauseIwanttokissyou,andIcan’tdothatwhenyoureyesareontheroad.”
Anunwittingsmilespringstomylips.Nobodyhaseveraskedmetopulloverbeforesotheycankissme,andalthoughI’mexhaustedandpissedoffandsadandwhoknowswhatelse,thethoughtofkissingHannahrightnowsoundslikepurefuckingheaven.
Withoutanotherword,Ipulloffontotheshoulder,movethegearshifttopark,andflicktheemergencyblinkers.
Sheslidescloserandgraspsmychin.Delicatefingertipsstrokemystubble,andthensheleansinandkissesme.Justthefleetingtouchofherlips,beforeshepullsbackandwhispers,“You’renotlikehim.Youwillneverbelikehim.”Herlipsticklemynosebeforekissingthetipofit.“You’reagoodperson.”Sheplantsatinykissonmycheek.“You’rehonestandkindandcompassionate.”Shelightlybitesmybottomlip.“Imean,don’tgetmewrong,you’reatotaldicksometimes,butit’satolerablekindofdickishness.”
Ican’tstopagrin.
“You’renotlikehim,”sherepeats,firmerthistime.“Theonlythingyoutwohaveincommonisthatyou’rebothgiftedhockeyplayers.That’sit.Youarenotlikehim.”
Jesus,Ineededtohearthat.Herwordspenetratethatterrifiedplaceinmyheart,andasthepressureinmychestdissipates,Icupthebackofherheadandkissherhard.MytongueslidesintohermouthandIgroanhappily,becauseshetasteslikecranberriesandsmellslikecherriesandIfuckingloveit.Iwanttokissherallnight,fortherestofmyfuckinglife,butIhaven’tforgottenwhereweareatthemoment.
Ireluctantlybreakthekiss—justasherhandsneakstowardmycrotch.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Icroak,thengroanagainwhensherubsmyachingcockovermytrousers
“Whatdoesitfeellike?”
Igrabherhandtostillitsmovements.“Idon’tknowifyou’reawareofthis,butwe’resittinginthecaronthesideoftheroad.”
“No,really?IthoughtwewereonanairplaneonourwaytoPalmSprings.”
Ichokeoutalaugh,butitturnsintoawheezewhenthetemptressbesidemestrokesmeagain.Shesqueezestheheadofmycock,andmyballstighten,littlezingsofheatracingthroughme.Ohhell.Thisissonotthetime,butIhavetoknowifshe’sasturnedonasIam,andIcan’tstopmyhandfromdriftingtoherknee.Icaressthebaby-softskinofherthighbeforeslippingmyhandunderherdress.
IcupheroverherpantiesandmoanwhenIfeelthedampmaterialagainstmypalm.She’swet.Reallywet.
SomehowImanagetoyankmyhandaway.“Wecan’tdothis.”
“Whynot?”Animpishtwinkledancesinhereyes,whichdoesn’tsurpriseme,becauseI’mquicklydiscoveringthatHannahisadventurousashelloncesheletsdownherguardandtrustssomeone.
Anditstillfloorsmethatit’smeshetrusts.
“Anyonecandriveby.”Ipausemeaningfully.“Includingapolicepatrol.”
“Thenwebetterbefast.”
BeforeIcanblink,sheunzipsmypantsandslidesherhandinsidemyboxers.Myeyespromptlyrolltothetopofmyhead.
“Getinthebackseat,”Iburstout
Hereyeswiden,thenfillwithdelight.“Really?”
“Hell,ifwe’regoingtodothis,wemightaswelldoitright,”Ianswerwithasigh.“Gobigorgohome,remember?”
Itmakesmelaughhowquicklyshedivesintothebackseat.Chuckling,Ipopthegloveboxandgrabthestripofcondomsstashedthere,thenjoinherintheback.
WhensheseeswhatI’mholding,herjawdrops.“Arethosecondoms?Okay,IthinkImightbemadaboutthis,exceptIprobablyshouldn’tbebecauseit’sveryhelpfulrightnow.But…seriously?Youkeepcondomsinyourcar?”
Ishrug.“Ofcourse.WhatifI’mdrivingalongonedayandcomeacrossKateUptonstrandedonthesideoftheroad?”
Hannahsnorts.“Isee.Isthatyourtypethen?Bustyblondeswithcurvestospare?”
Icoverherbodywithmineandpropmyelbowsoneithersideofher.“Naah,Ipreferbustybrunettes.”Iburymyfaceinherneckandnuzzleherskin.“Oneinparticular.Who,bytheway,alsohascurvestospare.”Myhandsslidedowntoherwaist.“Andtinyhips.”Iglidemypalmsunderneathherandsqueezeherroundbottom.“Andagrabbableass.”Imoveonehandbetweenherlegs.“Andthetightestpussyontheplanet.”
Sheshivers.“Youhavethedirtiestmouth.”
“Yeah,butyoustillloveme.”
Herbreathhitches.“Yeah.Ido.”Hergreeneyesshineupatme.“Iloveyou.”
Myheartdamnnearexplodesasthosethreesweetwordshangbetweenus.Othergirlshavesaidthattomebefore,butthistimeit’sdifferent.Becauseit’sHannahsayingit,andshe’snotjustanygirl.AndbecauseIknowthatwhenshesaysshelovesme,sheactuallymeansme—Garrett—andnotBriar’shockeystar,orMr.Popularity,orPhilGraham’sson.Shelovesme
It’sdifficulttospeakpasttheenormouslumpinmythroat.“Iloveyou,too.”It’sthefirsttimeI’vetoldawomanIloveher,anditfeelssodamnright.
Hannahsmiles.Thenshepullsmyheaddownandkissesme,andsuddenlywe’renottalkinganymore.Ipushherdressupandyankmytrousersdown.Idon’teventakeoffherpanties,Ijustshovethecrotchaside,rollonacondomwithonehand,andguidemycocktoheropening.
ShemoanstheinstantIenterher.AndIwasn’tkiddingabouthowtightsheis.HerpussyclutchesmelikeaviseandIseestars,soclosetolosingitIhavetowilltheclimaxaway.
I’vefuckedgirlsinmycarbefore.
I’venevermadelovetoone.
“You’resobeautiful,”Imumble,unabletotakemyeyesoffher.
Istarttomove,dyingtogoslowandmakeitlast,butI’mpainfullyawareofoursurroundings.AGoodSamaritan—orworse,acop—mightspottheJeepandthinkweneedroadsideassistance,andiftheydecidetoapproachus,they’llgetaneyefulofmybareass,seemyhipspumpingandHannah’sarmsclutchingmyback.
Besides,inthisposition,it’shardtomaneuver.AllIcanmanageisfast,shallowstrokes,butHannahdoesn’tseemtomind.ShemakesthesexiestnoisesasImoveinsideher,breathysighsandshakywhimpers,andwhenIhitthisonecertainspotinsideher,shemoanssoloudlyIhavetoclenchmyasscheekstostopfromcoming.Icanfeeltheorgasmhurtlingtowardme,butIwanthertocome,too.Iwanttohearhercryoutandmilkmedryasherpussyspasmsaroundme.
Ireachbetweenusandpressmythumbonherclit,rubbingitgently.“Giveittome,baby,”Iraspinherear.“Comeforme.Letmefeelyoucomingaroundmycock.”
Hereyessqueezeshut,hipsrisingtomeetmyhurriedthrusts,andthenshecriesoutinpleasure,andIcomesohardmyvisionwaversandmymindfragmentsintoamillionpieces.
Whenthemind-shatteringpleasurefinallyabates,Iregisterwhatsongisplayinginthecar.
Myeyesflyopen.“Didyoure-downloadOneDirection?”
Hermouthtwitches.“No…”
“Uh-huh.Sowhyis‘StoryofmyLife’playing?”Idemand.
Shepauses,thenletsoutabigsigh.“BecauseIlikeOneDirection.There.Isaidit.”
“You’reluckyIloveyou,”Iwarnher.“BecauseIwouldn’tstandforitotherwise.”
Hannahgrins.“You’reluckyIloveyou.Becauseyou’reatotalassholeandtherearen’talotofgirlswho’dputupwithit.”
She’sprobablyrightabouttheassholething.
She’sdefinitelyrightabouttheluckypart.37
HANNAH
“Idon’tlikethis,”Ideclare.“Imeanit,babe,mylegsarestartingtohurt.Itoldyou,I’mnotflexible.”
Garrett’slaughtervibratesthroughmybody.Mynakedbody,Ishouldadd,becausewe’reinthemiddleofhavingsex.WhichIjustconfessedtonotliking.
MaybeIamamoodkiller.
Butyouknowwhat,Idon’tcare.I’mstillvetoingthisposition.Garrettkneelsinfrontofme,andmyanklesareuponhisshoulders.Andmaybeifhewasn’tabigstrappinghockeyplayer,mylegswouldn’tfeellikethey’rerestingontopofthefrickin’EmpireStatebuildingandbecrampingthelivinghelloutofme.
Stilllaughing,GarrettleansforwardandmymusclesbreatheasighofreliefasIslidemylegsdownandhookthemaroundhisass.Immediately,theanglechanges,andamoanslipsoutofmymouth.
“Better?”hesayshuskily.
“OhmyGod.Yes.Dothatagain.”
“IhavenoideawhatIdid.”
“Youtwistedyourhips,like…ooohhh…yeah,likethat.”
Everytimehefillsme,mycoreclampsaroundhiserection.Everytimeheretreats,Ifeelempty,achy,desperate.I’maddictedtothisguy.Tohiskissesandhistaste,tothefeelofhisshorthairbeneathmyfingers,andthesmoothsinewofhisbackwhenIdigmynailsintoit.
Hishipsflexandhisbreathingquickens,andhethrustsharder,deeper,turningmyvisionintoawhitehaze.Thenhereachestotheplacewherewe’rejoinedandrubsmyclit,andoffwego.Hecomesfirst,butkeepspumpinginsidemeevenashetremblesinrelease.HisclimaxsetsmeoffandItrembleevenharder,bitingmyliptostopfromcryingoutsoIdon’talerthisroommatestothedelicioussensationscoursingthroughmybodyrightnow.
Afterward,herollsonhisbackandIlieontopofhim,scalinghisbodylikeamonkeyasIplantlittlekissesonhisfaceandneck.
“Whydoyoualwayshavesomuchmoreenergyaftersex?”hegrumbles.
“Don’tknow.Don’tcare.”Ismackkissesalloverhim,untilhe’slaughingindelight.Iknowhelikestheattention,andit’sagoodthinghedoesbecauseIcan’tstopgivingittohim.Forsomereason,IturnintoanaffectionmonsterwhenI’maroundhim.
Lifeisgoodagain.AweekhaspassedsinceThanksgiving,andGarrettandIarestillgoingstrong.We’vebeenbusy,though.Allourfinalpapersareduesoon,includingtheoneforTolbert’sclass,whichI’vebeenhelpingGarrettwith.Hispracticescheduleisjustasjam-packedasever,andsoismineasIpreparefortheshowcase.Buthey,atleastI’mfinallyexcitedaboutitagain.
JaeandIcameupwithanarrangementthatIlove,andI’mconfidentI’mgoingtoputonahellofaperformance.ButIstillhaven’tforgivenCassandMaryJaneforwhattheydid.MJhastextedseveraltimesaskingifwecanmeetupandtalk,butI’vebeenignoringher,andsinceFionagotmemyownrehearsalspaceinoneoftheseniorchoirrooms,Ihaven’trunintoMJorCasssincetheydumpedme.
AndtheicingontheI-love-my-fucking-lifecake?Mydadcalledlastweekwithsomegoodnews—myparentsaremeetingmeatAuntNicole’sforChristmas.I’vealreadybookedmyticket,andIcan’twaittoseethem,butI’mdisappointedthatGarrettcan’tcomewithme.Iinvitedhim,butthedatesdidn’tworkoutbecausetheteam’sgotagamescheduledthedayafterIleave,andanotheronetwodaysbeforeIgetback.SoGarrettwillbespendingtheholidayswithLogan,whoisapparentlyfromatowntwentyminutesfromHastings.
LoudpoundingonGarrett’sdoorjoltsmeoutofmyhappythoughts.ThedoorislockedsoI’mnotworriedaboutanyonebargingin,butIstillreachfortheblanketoutofhabit.
“Sorrytointerrupt,boysandgirls,”Logancallsout,“butit’stimetoputyourp’sandv’saway.Gottago,G.”
IshootGarrettablanklook.“P’sandv’s?”HalfthetimeIcanbarelymakesenseofLogan’smade-upacronymsandabbreviations.
Garrettgrinsatme.“Ohcomeon,really?EvenIgotone.It’sgradeschoolshit.”
Ithinkitover,thenblush.“Howexactlydoesoneputawaytheirvagina?”
Hesnickers.“AskLogan.Actually,pleasedon’t.”Heslidesoutofbedandwandersaroundsearchingforhisclothes.“Areyoucomingtothegameafterrehearsal?”
“Yeah,butIdon’tthinkI’llmakeitbeforethesecondperiod.Argh.BythetimeIgettothearena,it’llprobablybestandingroomonly.”
“I’llgetsomeonetosaveaseatforyou.”
“Thanks.”
Ipopintothebathroom,freshenup,andcomeouttofindGarrettontheedgeofthebed,leaningovertoputonapairofsocks.Myheartskipsabeatatthesightofhim.Messyhair,bicepsflexing,redsplotchesonhisneckfromwhereInibbledonit.He’sfrickin’gorgeous.
Fiveminuteslater,weleavehishouseandgoourseparateways.IhaveTracy’scar,soIdrivebacktocampusforrehearsal.NowthatCassisoutofthepicture,Icanfinallyenjoysingingagain.
AndIdo.MyownpersonalcellistandIhammerouttheendingofthesong,andacouplehourslater,I’mdrivingtowardBriar’shockeycenter.ItextedAllietoseeifshewantedtocometothegamewithme,butshe’sbusywithSean,andmyotherfriendsareburiedundermountainsofschoolwork,whichmakesmegratefulthatIgotaheadstartonmine.Mostofmycoursesareperformanceormusictheory,soI’vereallyonlyhadtofocusontheBritishLitandEthicspapers,bothofwhicharealmostdone.
IgettothearenalaterthanIhoped.Thethirdperiodhasjuststarted,andI’mdismayedtosee1-1flashingonthescoreboard,becauseBriarisplayingaDivisionIIteamfromBuffalotonight.Garretthadbeenconfidentthegamewouldn’tbeatallcompetitive,butapparentlyhewaswrong
There’sanemptyseatwaitingformebehindthehometeam’sbenchcourtesyofaseniornamedNatalie.Garretthasmentionedherbefore,butIhaven’tmetheruntilnow.Apparentlyshe’sbeendatingBirdiesincefreshmanyear,whichisimpressive.Alotofcollegerelationshipsdon’tseemtolastthatlong.
Natalieisfunnyandsweet,andwehaveagoodtimewatchingthegametogether.WhenDeantakesaparticularlyhardhitthatsendshimsprawlingacrosstheice,webothgaspinalarm.
“OhmyGod,”Natalieburstsout.“Isheokay?”
Fortunately,Deanisfine.Heshakesitoffandjumpsup,skatingtowardtheBriarboxforalinechange.ThemomentGarretthitstheice,mypulsespeedsup.He’saforcetobereckonedwith.Fastfootwork,skilledstickhandling,hardhitter.HisfirstpassconnectswithBirdie’sstickandtheyflyacrossthebluelineintothezone.BirdiedumpsthepuckandGarrettchasesit.Sodoestheotherteam’scenter,andelbowsarethrownbehindthecreaseastheBuffaloforwardtriestogaintheupperhand.
Garrettcomesoutvictoriousandzipsaroundthenet,snappingoffaquickshot.Thegoaliestopsiteasily,butthereboundbouncesdirectlyinBirdie’spath.Heslapsthepuckrightbackatthegoaltender,whoseglovewhipsupasecondtoolate.
NatalieleapstoherfeetandcheersherselfhoarseasBirdie’sgoallightsthescoreboard.Wehugexcitedly,thenholdourbreathsasthelastthreeminutesofplaytickby.Theotherteamscramblestogainpossessionofthepuck,butBriar’ssophomorecenterwinsthenextfaceoffandwedominatetherestofthegame,whichendswithafinalscoreof2-1.
NatalieandIwalktowardtheaisle,jostledinalldirectionsaswe’reshuffleddownthestairslikecattle.
“I’msogladyou’rewithGarrett,”shegushes.
Thecommentmakesmesmile,becauseshe’sonlyknownmefortwentyminutes.“Metoo,”Ianswer.
“Seriously.He’ssuchagreatguy,buthe’ssofrickingintensewhenitcomestohockey.Hehardlydrinks,doesn’tgetseriouswithanyone.It’snothealthytobethatfocusedonsomething,youknow?”
Weleavetherinkbutdon’theadtothearenaexit.Instead,wemakeourwaythroughthecrowdtowardthehallwaythatleadstothelockerroomssowecanwaitforourguys.GarrettGrahamismyguy.It’sasurrealthought,butIlikeit
“That’swhyIthinkyou’regoodforhim,”shesays.“HelookssohappyandrelaxedeverytimeIseehim.”
MyspinestiffenswhenIspotafamiliarfaceinthecrowd.
Garrett’sfather.
He’stwentyfeetawayfromus,headedinthesamedirectionasweare.Hisbaseballcaprestslowonhisforehead,butthatdoesn’tstophimfromgettingnoticed,becauseagroupofguysinBriarjerseysquicklyapproachhimforanautograph.Hesignstheirjerseys,thenaphotothatoneofthemhandshim.Ican’tseethepicture,butIimagineit’sanactionshotofhimfromhisglorydays,justliketheonesIsawframedinhishouse.PhilGraham,hockeylegend.
Nowlivingvicariouslythroughhisson.
I’msofocusedonmyhatredforGarrett’sfatherthatIdon’tpayattentiontowhereI’mwalking,andastartledlaughleavesmymouthwhenIbumpintosomeone.Hard.
“I’msorry.Iwasn’twatchingwhere—”TheapologydiesonmylipswhenInoticewhoIbumpedinto.
RobDelaneylooksasstunnedasIfeel.
Inthesplitsecondthatoureyeslock,Iturnintoanicestatue.Shiverswrackeveryinchofmybody.Myfeetarefrozeninplace.Waveafterwaveofhorrorslamsintome.
Ihaven’tseenRobsincethedayhetestifiedincourt—onmyrapist’sbehalf
Idon’tknowwhattosay.Ordo.Orthink.
Someoneshouts,“Wellsy!”
Iturnmyhead.
WhenIturnitback,Robishurryingawaylikehe’stryingtooutrunabullet.
Ican’tbreathe.
Garrettcomesupbesideme.Iknowit’shimbecauseIrecognizethegentlesweepofhishandonmycheek,butmygazestaysgluedtoRob’sretreatingback.He’swearingaBuffaloStatejacket.Doeshegothere?IneverbotheredfindingoutwhathappenedtoAaron’sfriends.Wheretheywenttocollege,whatthey’redoingnow.ThelasttimeIhadanycontactwithRobDelaney,itwasindirectly.ItwaswhenmydadattackedRob’sfatherinthehardwarestoreinRansom.
“Hannah.Lookatme.”
Ican’ttearmyeyesoffRob,whohasn’tmadeitoutthedooryet.Thegroupoffriendshe’swithstoptotalktoafewpeople,andhetossesapanickyglanceoverhisshoulder,palingwhenherealizesI’mstillstaringathim.
“Hannah.Jesus.You’rewhiteasasheet.What’swrong?”
IguessI’mpale,too.IguessIlooklikeRob.Iguesswe’vebothjustseenaghost.
ThenextthingIknow,myheadiswrenchedtothesideasGarrett’shandsclutchmychintoforceeyecontact.
“What’sgoingon?Whoisthatguy?”He’sfollowedmygaze,andnowhe’swatchingRobwithvisiblemistrust.
“Nobody,”Isayweakly.
“Hannah.”
“It’snobody,Garrett.Please.”Iturnmybacktothedoor,effectivelyeliminatinganytemptationtolookRob’sway.
Garrettpauses.Searchesmyface.Thenhesucksinabreath.“Ohfuck.Isit…?”Hishorrifiedquestionhangsbetweenus.
“No,”Isayquickly.“It’snot.Ipromise.”Mylungsburnfromlackofoxygen,soIforcemyselftotakeadeepbreath.“He’sjustaguy.”
“Whatguy?What’shisname?”
“Rob.”Nauseacirclesmybellylikeaschoolofsharks.“RobDelaney.”
Garrett’sgazemovespastmyshoulder,whichtellsmethatRobisstillhere.Damnit,whycan’thejustleavealready?
“Whoishe,Hannah?”
HardasItry,Icannolongerpretendthatmywholeworldhasn’tbeenknockedoffkilter.
MyfacecollapsesandIwhisper,“It’sAaron’sbestfriend.He’soneoftheguyswhotestifiedagainstmeafterthe—”
Garrettisalreadystalkingaway.38
GARRETT
Mybloodroarsbetweenmyears.IhearHannahcallingaftermebutIcan’tstopmoving.It’slikeI’mwatchingtheworldthrougharedmist.I’vegoneonautopilot,turningintoanasshole-seekingmissilethattravelsinastraightpathtowardRobDelaney.
ThebastardwhohelpedHannah’srapistgetoffwithoutsomuchasaslaponthewrist.
“Delaney,”Icallout.
Hisshoulderstense.Severalpeopleglanceourway,butthere’sonlyonepersonI’minterestedinatthemoment.Heturnsaround,darkeyesmomentarilyflickeringwithpanicwhenhenoticesme.HesawmetalkingtoHannah.Probablyfiguredoutwhatshetoldme.
Hesayssomethingtohisfriendsandtakesahastystepawayfromthegroup,andmyjawturnstostoneashewarilyapproachesme.
“Whothehellareyou?”hemutters
“Hannah’sboyfriend.”
Hisexpressionconveysunmistakablefear,buthestilltriestoplayitoffcool.“Yeah?Well,whatdoyouwant?”
Idrawacalmingbreath.Itdoesn’tcalmmedown.Atall.“Ijustwantedtomeettheassholewhoaidedandabettedarapist.”
There’salongmomentofsilence.Thenhescowlsatme.“Fuckoff.Youdon’tknowshitaboutme,man.”
“Iknoweverythingaboutyou,”Icorrect,mywholebodytremblingwithbarelyrestrainedfury.“Iknowyouletyourfrienddrugmygirl.Iknowyoustoodbywhilehetookherupstairsandhurther.Iknowyoucommittedperjuryafterwardtobackhimup.Iknowyou’reapieceofshitwithoutaconscience.”
“Fuckoff,”hesaysagain,buthisbravadowavers.Helooksstrickennow.
“Really?Fuckoff?That’sallyouhavetosay?Iguessthatmakessense.”Iswallowtheacidcoatingmythroat.“You’reafuckingcowardwhocouldn’tdefendaninnocentgirl.Sowhywouldyouhavetheballstodefendyourself?”
Thebitteraccusationstriggerhisanger.“Getoutofmyface,man.Ididn’tcomeheretonighttogetrailedonbysomedumbjock.Gobacktoyourslutgirlfriendand—”
Ohhellno.
Myfistsnapsout.
Afterthat,everythingisablur.
Peopleareshouting.Someonegrabsthebackofmyjacket,tryingtoyankmeoffDelaney.Myhandthrobs.Itastebloodinmymouth.It’slikeanout-of-bodyexperiencethatIcan’tevendescribebecauseI’mnotthere.I’mlostinahazeofuncheckedanger.
“Garrett.”
Someoneslamsmeintoawall,andIinstinctivelyreleasearighthook.Iglimpseaflashofred,hearmynameagain,asharp,emphatic“Garrett”—andmyvisionclearsintimetoseethebloodspurtingfromthecornerofLogan’smouth.
Ohshit.
“G.”Hisvoiceislowandominous,butthere’snomistakingtheworryswimminginhiseyes.“G,you’vegottastop.”
Alltheoxygeninmylungsshuddersoutinarush.Iglancearoundandfindaseaoffacesstaringatme,hearhushedvoicesandconfusedwhispers.
AndthenCoachappears,andI’msuddenlyhitwiththegravityofwhatI’vejustdone.
Twohourslater,IstandinfrontofHannah’sdoor,andIbarelyhaveenoughstrengthlefttoknock.
Ican’trememberthelasttimeIreachedthislevelofintenseexhaustion.Insteadofapost-gamecelebrationwithmyteamtonight,IsatinCoach’sofficeformorethananhourandlistenedtohimshoutatmeforstartingafightonschoolproperty.Which,bytheway,earnedmeaone-gamesuspension.Tobehonest,I’msurprisedthepunishmentwasn’tstiffer,butafterCoachandafewotherBriarofficialsgotthewholestoryoutofme,theydecidedtogoeasyonme.HannahhadgivenmepermissiontotellthemaboutherhistorywithDelaney,insistingthatshedidn’twantthemtothinkIwassomepsychowhowentaroundattackingrandomhockeyfansfornogoodreason,butIstillfeellikeashitforsharinghertraumawithmycoach.
One-gamesuspension.Jesus.Ideserveahelluvalotworse.
Iwonderifmydadhasheardaboutthesuspensionyet,butIknowhemusthave.IbethehassomeoneatBriaronhispayrolltofeedhiminformationaboutme.Luckily,hewasn’taroundwhenIleftthearena,soIwassparedfromdealingwithhiswrathtonight.
Loganwasthere,though,waitingformeoutside,andI’veneverbeenmoreashamedinmylifeasIapologizedtomybestfriendforhittinghim.ButHannahhadalsogivenmetheokaytosharethetruthwithLogan,andafterItoldhimwhoRobwasandwhyIwentafterhim,LoganwasreadytogoafterRobhimself,andthenheapologizedtomeforpullingmeoffthebastard.That’swhenIrealizedhowmuchIfuckinglovetheguy.Hemightbecrushingonmygirlfriend,buthe’sstillthebestfriendI’veeverhad.Andhell,Ican’tevenfaulthimforthegirlfriend-crushingpartbecausewhywouldn’thewanttobewithsomeoneasincredibleasHannah?
I’mnervousashellwhensheopensthedoortoletmein,butshesurprisesmebyimmediatelythrowingherarmsaroundme.“Areyouokay?”shesaysurgently.
“I’mfine.”ItsoundslikeI’mspeakingthroughamouthfulofgravel,soIclearmythroatbeforecontinuing.“I’msorry.I’msofuckingsorry,baby.”
Shetiltsherheadtolookupatme,regretetchedintoherface.“Youshouldn’thavegoneafterhim.”
“Iknow.”Mythroatclosesup.“Icouldn’tstopmyself.Ikeptpicturingthatbastardsittingonthewitnessstand,callingyouawhoreandsayingyoutookdrugsandseducedhisfriend.Itmademesick.”Iweaklyshakemyhead.“No,itmademecrazy.”
Shetakesmyhandandleadsmetoherroom,closingthedoorbehindherbeforejoiningmeontheedgeofthebed.Shereachesformyhandagain,andgaspswhensheseesthestateofmyknuckles.They’recrackedandcakedwithblood,andeventhoughIwashedmyhandsthoroughlybeforecominghere,thelittlecutshaveopenedupandarenowdribblingwithblood.
“Howmuchtroubleareyouin?”sheasks.
“NotasmuchasIdeserve.One-gamesuspension,whichshouldn’thurttheteamtoobad.Ourrecordissolidenoughthatwecanaffordalossifitcomesdowntothat.Andthecopsweren’tcalledbecauseDelaneyrefusedtopresscharges.TheBuffalocoachtriedtogethimtochangehismind,buthetoldeveryonethatheprovokedme.”
Hereyebrowsshootup.“Hedid?”
“Yeah.”Iletoutabreath.“Toomuchofahassledealingwiththepolice,Iguess.Heprobablyjustwantedtogobacktowhateverholehecrawledoutofandpretenditneverhappened.Justlikehowhepretendedthathisbestfrienddidn’thurtyou.”Bilebubblesinmythroat.“Howthefuckisthatfair,Hannah?Whyaren’tyouangrier?Whyaren’tyoufuriousthatyourrapistiswalkingaroundfree?Andhisslimyfriendsaretheoneswhohelpedhimgetoff.”
Shesighs.“It’snotfair.AndIamangryBut…well,lifeisn’talwaysfair,babe.Imean,lookatyourfather—he’severymuchacriminalasAaronis,andhe’snotinjaileither.Ifanything,he’sstillreveredbyeveryhockeyfaninthiscountry.”
“Yeah,becausenobodyknowswhathedidtomeandmymom.”
“Andyouthinkiftheyknew,they’dstopidolizinghim?Someofthemmight,butIguaranteeyouthatalotofthemwon’tcare,becausehe’sastarathleteandhewonlotsofgames,sothatmakeshimahero.”Sheshakesherheadsadly.“Doyourealizehowmanyabusersarewalkingaroundunpunished?Howmanyrapechargesaredroppedbecauseof‘insufficient’evidence,orhowmanydaterapistsgetawaywithwhatthey’vedonebecausethevictimistooscaredtotellanyone?Soyeah,it’snotfair,butit’salsonotworthagonizingover.”
Sorrowclogsmythroat.“You’reabetterpersonthanIam,then.”
“That’snottrue,”shechides.“RememberwhatyoutoldmeonThanksgiving?Howyourfatherisn’tworthyourangerandrevenge?Well,that’sthebestrevengerightthere,Garrett.Livingwellandbeinghappyishowwegetovertheshitinourpast.Iwasraped,anditwasawful,butI’mnotgoingtowastemytimeorenergyeither,notonsomepathetic,screwed-upguywhocouldn’ttakenoforananswer,orhispatheticfriendswhothoughthedeservedtoberewardedforhisactions.”Shesighsagain.“Iputitallbehindme.Youreallydidn’thavetoconfrontRobonmybehalf.”
“Iknow.”Tearsstingmyeyes.Shit.ThelasttimeIcriedwasatmymom’sfuneral,whenIwastwelveyearsold.I’membarrassedthatHannahiswitnessingit,butatthesametime,IwanthertounderstandwhyIdidit,evenifitmeansfallingapartinfrontofher.“Don’tyougetit?Thethoughtofanyonehurtingyouripsmeapart.”Iblinkrapidly,fightingthetears.“Ididn’trealizeituntiltonight,but…IthinkIwasbroken,too.”
Hannahlooksstartled.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“IwasbrokenbeforeImetyou,”Imumble.“Myentireliferevolvedaroundhockey,andbeingthebest,andprovingtomyfatherthatIdidn’tneedhim.Ididn’tletmyselfgetclosetogirlsbecauseIdidn’twanttobedistractedfrommygoals.AndIknewthatifIdidgetclosetosomeone,I’dleavetheminaheartbeatonceIgotdrafted.Ididn’tletasinglepersonin,notevenmyclosestfriends,andthenyoucamealongandIrealizedjusthowfuckinglonelyI’vebeen.”
Idropmyheadonhershoulder,sotiredof…ofeverything.
Afterabeat,shepullsmyheadintoherlapandstrokesmyhair.Icurlintoher,myvoicemuffledagainstherthigh.“Ihatethatyousawmeloseittonight.”Arushofself-loathingsearsmyflesh.“YoutoldmeIwasn’tcapableofhurtingyou,butyousawwhatIdidtonight.Ididn’tgooverthereplanningonhittinghim,buthewassofuckingsmug,andthenhecalledyoua…hesaidsomethingnasty,andIsnapped.”
“Youlostyourtemper,”sheagrees.“Butthatdoesn’tchangethewayIfeelaboutyou,orwhatIthinkaboutyou.Isaidyou’dneverhurtme,andIstillbelievethat.”Hervoiceshakes.“God,Garrett,ifyouknewhowbadlyIwantedtoriphiseyesouttonight…”
“Butyoudidn’t.”
“BecauseIwasinshock.Ididn’texpecttoseehimthere.”Herfingersslideovermyscalpinasoftcaress.“Idon’twantyoutohateyourselfforthis.”
“Idon’twantyoutohatemeforit.”
Shebendsdownandbrushesherlipsoverthetopofmyhead.“Icouldneverhateyou.”
Westaythiswayforawhile,withherfingersinmyhairandmyheadinherlap.EventuallyshecoaxesmeintobedandIslidebetweenthesheetsfullyclothed.We’respooningnow,exceptshe’stheoneholdingmeandI’mtoofuckingtiredandashamedtomove.
Ifallasleepwithherhandstrokingmychest.39
HANNAH
Thenextmorning,IleaveGarrettasleepinmybedandgetreadyforwork.AlthoughI’mstillshakenupoverwhathappenedlastnight,ImeanteverywordIsaidtohim.Idon’tblamehimforlosinghistemper.Infact,somespitefulpartofmeisgladthatRobtookafisttotheface.Hedeservesitafterwhathedidtome.Lyingunderoath,providingtestimonythatallowedthecaseagainstAarontobedismissed…whatkindofpersondoessomethingsocruelandvindictive?
ButIknowGarrettisupsetaboutwhathedid,andIknowI’mgoingtohavetoworkhardtomakehimseethathe’snotthemonsterhethinksheis.
ButIalsocan’tbailonwork,soOperationReassurancewillhavetowait.
OnceI’mdressedandreadytogo,IsitontheedgeofthebedandtouchGarrett’scheek.“Ihavetogotowork,”Iwhisper.
“Mmmddrv…yuou…?”
Ideducethathe’sofferingtodriveme,andasmiletugsonthecornerofmymouth.“I’vegotTracy’scartoday.Gobacktosleepifyouwant.I’llbebackaroundfive.”
“’Kay.”Hiseyelidsflutterandasecondlaterhe’sasleepagain.
Imakemyselfacupofinstantcoffeeinthekitchenandchugittojumpstartmybarelyfunctioningbrain.MygazeshiftstoAllie’sbedroomdoor,whichiswideopen.Theglimpseofherperfectlymadebedworriesmeonlyforasecond,becausewhenIcheckmyphone,IfindatextfromlastnightthattellsmeAlliespentthenightatSean’sfrathouse.
Myshiftatthedinerischaoticfrommomentone.Thebreakfastcrowdarrivesindrovesandit’sagoodtwohoursbeforetherushfinallydissipates.Idon’tevenhavetimetotakeabreathonceitclearsout,becauseDellaasksmetoreorganizethesuppliesunderthecounterbeforethelunchrushhits.Ispendthenexthouronmyknees,movingstacksofnapkinsandpacketsofsugarfromoneshelftoanother,andswitchingthecoffeemugshelfwiththedrinkingglassshelf.
WhenIhoptomyfeet,I’mstartledtofindamansittingonthestooldirectlyinfrontofme.
It’sGarrett’sfather.
“Mr.Graham,”Isqueakinsurprise.“Hi.”
“Hello,Hannah.”HisvoiceisaschillyastheDecemberairoutsidethediner.“Weneedtotalk.”
Wedo?
Shit.WhydoIhaveafeelingIknowexactlywhathewantstotalkabout?
“I’mworking,”Ianswerinanawkwardtone.
“Icanwait.”
Doubleshit.It’sonlyteno’clockandI’mnotoffuntilfive.Isheactuallygoingtositaroundandwaitforsevenhours?Becausethere’snowayI’llbeabletogetthroughmyshiftifhe’sinthediner,staringatmethewholetime.
“LetmeseeifIcantakeabreak,”Isayhastily.
Henods.“Itwon’ttakelong.Iassureyou,Ionlyneedafewminutesofyourtime.”
Idon’tknowifthat’sapromise,orathreat.
Gulping,IpopintothebackofficetotalktoDella,whosignsoffonafive-minutebreakafterItellherthatmyboyfriend’sfatherhassomethingurgenttodiscusswithme.
ThemomentMr.GrahamandIstepoutside,Igettheanswertothatage-oldpromisevs.threatquestion—becausehisbodylanguageemitssomeseriousmenace.
“Ibetyou’requitepleasedwithyourself.”
Ifrown.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Heshovesbothhandsinthepocketsofhislongblackcoat,andhelookssomuchlikeGarrettit’sactuallykindofupsetting.Buthedoesn’tsoundlikeGarrett,becauseGarrett’svoiceisn’tthisharsh,andGarrett’seyesdefinitelydon’tcarrythismuchanimosity.
“I’vebeenwithalotofwomen,Hannah.”Mr.Grahamlaughs,butwithoutanounceofhumororashredofwarmth.“YouthinkIdon’tknowwhatanegoboostitisforawomanwhenshehastwomenfightingoverher?”
Isthatwhathethinkslastnightwasabout?ThatGarrettandRobwerefightingaduelformylove?Jesus.
“That’snotwhytheywerefighting,”Isayweakly.
Hislipscurlinasneer.“Ohreally?Sothefighthadnothingtodowithyou?”WhenIdon’tanswer,helaughsagain.“That’swhatIthought.”
Idon’tlikethewayhe’slookingatmewithsuchblatanthostility.AndIwishIhadn’tforgottenmyglovesinside,becausemyhandsfeelliketwoblocksofice.
Ishovetheminmypocketsandmeethiseyes.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“Iwantyoutostopdistractingmyson,”hesaysbriskly.“Doyourealizehe’sfacingaone-gamesuspensionforthatstunt?Becauseofyou,Hannah.Becauseinsteadofconcentratingonwinninggames,he’spantingoveryoulikeapuppydogandfightingbattlesonyourbehalf.”
Mythroattightens.“That’snottrue.”
HetakesastepcloserandI’mgenuinelyfrightenedforamoment.Ichastisemyselfforit,though,becausecomeon,he’snotgoingtohurtmewhenwe’reoutinpublic.Whenthedinerwindowisrightbehindmeandanyonecanseeus.
“Iseethewayhelooksatyou,andIdon’tlikeit.AndIcertainlydon’tlikethatyou’vedividedhisattention.WhichiswhyI’vedecidedyou’renolongergoingtobeseeingmyson.”
Ican’tstopalaughofdisbelief.“Withallduerespect,sir,butthat’snotyourdecisiontomake.”
“You’reright.It’sgoingtobeyourdecision.”
Mystomachlurches.“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“Itmeansyou’regoingtobreakupwithmyson.”
Igapeathim.“Um…no.I’msorry,butno.”
“Ithoughtyou’dsaythat.It’sallright.I’mconfidentIcanchangeyourmind.”Thosecold,grayeyesboreintomyface.“DoyoucareaboutGarrett?”
“OfcourseIdo.”Myvoicecracks.“Ilovehim.”
Theconfessionbringsaflashofannoyancetohiseyes.Hestudiesmyface,thenmakesaderisivesound.“Ibelieveyoumeanthat.”Heshrugsdismissively.“Butthatjustmeansyouwanthimtobehappy,don’tyou,Hannah?Youwanthimtosucceed.”
Ihavenoideawherehe’sgoingwiththis,butIknowthatIhatehimforit.
“Doyouwanttoknowwhyhe’ssucceedingrightnow?Whatenableshimtodothat?”Mr.Grahamsmirks.“It’sbecauseofme.BecausemysignatureisonthetuitionchecksIsendtoBriar.Hegoestoschoolbecauseofme.Hebuyshistextbooksandpaysforhisboozebecauseofme.Hiscar?Insurance?Whodoyouthinkmakesthepaymentsforthat?Andhisgear?Theboydoesn’tevenhaveajob—howdoyouthinkhe’sabletolive?Becauseofme.”
Ifeelsick.BecausenowIdoknowwherehe’sgoing.
“IgenerouslyallowhimtheseluxuriesbecauseIknowhisgoalsalignwithmine.Iknowwhathewantstoachieve,andIknowhe’scapableofachievingit.”Hisjawhardens.“Butwe’vehitalittlespeedbump,haven’twe?”
Hegivesmeapointedstare,andyep,I’mthespeedbump.
“Sothisiswhat’sgoingtohappen.”Histoneisdeceptivelypleasant.Garrettisright.Thismanisamonster.“You’regoingtobreakupwithmyson.Youwon’tseehimanymore,youwon’tremainfriendswithhim.Thiswillbeacleanbreakwithabsolutelynofurthercontact.Doyouunderstand?”
“Orwhat?”Iwhisper,becauseIneedtohearhimsayit.
“OrIcuttheboyoff.”Heshrugs.“Bye-byetuitionandbooksandcarsandfood.Isthatwhatyouwant,Hannah?”
Mybrainsnapsintoovertime,rapidlyrunningovermyoptions.I’mnotabouttoletsomeassholeblackmailmeintoendingthingswithGarrett,notwhenthereareclearlyothersolutionsavailabletous.
ButIhaven’tgivenPhilGrahamenoughcredit,becauseapparentlyhe’snotjustajerk,butamindreader.
“You’reconsideringwhatwillhappenifyousayno?”heguesses.“TryingtothinkofawayyoucanstillbewithGarrettwithouthimlosingeverythinghe’sworkedsohardfor?”Hechuckles.“Well,let’ssee,shallwe?Hecanalwaysapplyforfinancialaid.”
Isilentlycursehimforraisingtheideathathadjustenteredmymind.
“Butwait,hedidn’tqualifyforfinancialaid.”Grahamlookslikehemightactuallybeenjoyinghimself.“Whenyourfamily’sincomeisassubstantialasours,schoolsdon’tgiveyoumoney,Hannah.Believeme,Garrettapplied.Briarturnedhimdownonthespot.”
Shit.
“Abankloan?”Garrett’sfathersuggests.“Well,that’shardtogetapprovedforwhenyouhavenocreditorassets.”
Mybrainscramblestokeepup.Garrettmusthavecredit,though.Somekindofincome.Hetoldmeheworksduringthesummer.
ButMr.Grahamislikeasniper,shootingdowneverythoughtthatentersmyhead.
“Hegetspaidincashforhisconstructionwork.Whatapity,huh?Norecordofincome,nocredit,notneedyenoughtowarranthelpfromBriar.”HetskswithhistongueandIalmostsmackhimintheface.“Sowheredoesthatleaveus?Oh,right,theotheroptionyou’reconsidering.Mysonwillfindajobandpayforhisowneducationandexpenses.”
Yep,thatideahasalsooccurredtome.
“DoyouknowhowmuchanIvyLeagueeducationcosts?Doyouthinkhecanpaythatkindoftuitionworkingpart-time?”Garrett’sfathershakeshishead.“No,he’llhavetoworkfull-timeinordertodothat.Hemightbeabletokeepattendingschool,buthe’llhavetodrophockey,won’the?Andhowhappywillhebethen?”Hissmilechillsmetothebone.“Orlet’sassumehecanjuggleitall—full-timejob,school,andhockey…therewon’tbemuchtimeleftforyou,willthere,Hannah?”
Whichisexactlywhathewants.
IfeellikeImightthrowup.Iknowhe’snotfuckingaround.HewillcutGarrettoffifIdon’tdowhathesays.
IalsoknowthatifGarrettfoundoutabouthisfather’sthreat,he’dtellhimtofuckrightoff.He’dpickmeoverthemoney,butthatonlymakesmesicker,becauseMr.Grahamisright.Garrettwouldhavetodropoutorworkhisassoff,whicheithermeansnohockeyaltogether,ornotimetofocusonhockey.AndIwanthimtofocusonit,damnit.It’shisdream.
Mymindcontinuestospin.
IfIbreakupwithGarrett,Mr.Grahamwins.
IfIdon’tbreakupwithGarrett,Mr.Grahamstillwins.
Tearswellupinmyeyes.“He’syourson…”Ichokeonthewords.“Howcanyoubesocruel?”
Helooksbored.“I’mnotcruel.I’mjustpractical.Andunlikesomepeople,Ihavemyprioritiesinorder.I’veinvestedalotoftimeandmoneyinthatboy,andIrefusetoseeallthathardworkgotowasteoverapieceofcoedpussy.”
Iflinchinrepulsion.
“Getitdone,Hannah,”hesaysharshly.“Imeanit,don’tfuckingtestme,anddon’tthinkI’mbluffing.”Hisicystarepiercesmyface.“DoIlooklikeamanwhobluffs?”
AcidburnsmythroatasIslowlyshakemyhead.“No.Youdon’t.”40
GARRETT
Hannahhasbeenavoidingmefordays.She’splayingitofflikeshe’sbusy,andyeah,shehasworkandrehearsal,butshe’sbeenworkingandrehearsingsincethemomentwestarteddatinganditsureashellhasn’tstoppedherfromcomingbyforaquickdinner,orchattingonthephonewithmebeforebed.
Ergo—she’sfuckingavoidingme.
Idon’tneedtobeaMensamembertoknowthatit’sbecauseofthewayIwentafterDelaney.That’stheonlyreasonIcanthinkofforwhyshemightbeupsetwithme,andI’mnotsureIblameher.Ishouldn’thavehittheguy.Especiallynotinthearenainfrontofhundredsofwitnesses.
Butthethoughtthatshemightbe…Idon’tknow…scaredofmenow…
Itkillsme.
IshowupatherdormunannouncedbecauseIknowthatifItextherbeforehand,she’llgivemesomeexcuseabouthowbusysheis.Iknowshe’shomebecauseIpulledthemostpatheticmoveontheplanetbytextingAllietofindout,followedbythedickmoveofbegginghernottotellHannahI’mcomingoverbecauseIhaveasurpriseforher.
I’mnotsureAllieboughtit.Imean,girlstalk,soitstandstoreasonthatHannahtoldherbestfriendaboutwhatever’sbuggingher.
AsIexpect,Hannahdoesn’tlookhappytoseemeatherdoor.Shedoesn’tlookpissedoff,either,whichmakesmeuneasy,especiallywhenInoticetheglimmerofregretinhereyes
Shit.
“Hi,”Isaygruffly.
“Hi.”Herthroatbobsassheswallows.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
IsupposeIcanpretendthateverythingisallright,thatIjuststoppedbytoseemyfavoritegirl,butthat’snotwhoHannahandIare.We’venevertiptoedaroundthetruthbefore,andI’mnotabouttostartnow.
“Iwantedtofindoutwhymygirlfriendisavoidingme.”
Shesighs.
That’sit.Asigh.FourdaysofzerophysicalcontactandminimaltextmessagesandallIgetfromherisasigh.
“Whatthehellisgoingon?”Idemandinfrustration.
Shehesitates,hergazedartingtowardAllie’scloseddoor.“Canwetalkinmyroom?”
“Sure,aslongasweactuallyfuckingtalk,”Imutter.
Wegotoherbedroomandsheshutsthedoor.Whensheturnstofaceme,Iknowexactlywhatshe’sgoingtosay.
“I’msorryI’vebeenactingsoweird.I’vejustbeendoingsomethinking…”
Holyshit.She’sbreakingupwithme.Becausenobodystartsasentencewith“I’vejustbeendoingsomethinking…”withoutendingthatsentencewith,“andIdon’tthinkweshouldseeeachotheranymore.”
Hannahletsoutabreath.“AndIdon’tthinkweshouldseeeachotheranymore.”
EventhoughI’mexpectingit,thequietwordsstabmeintheheartandsendatornadoofpainspiralingthroughme.
Shehurriesonwhenshenoticesmyexpression.“It’sjust…thingsaremovingtoofast,Garrett.It’sbarelybeentwomonthsandwe’realreadyattheI-love-youstage,andit’ssosuperseriousallofasudden,and…”Shelooksfrazzledandsoundsupset.
I,ontheotherhand,amneitherfrazzlednorupset.
I’mdevastated.
Ichokebackthebitternessliningmythroat.“Whydon’tyousaywhatyoureallymean?”
Shefrowns.“What?”
“Yousaidyoudidn’thatemeforlosingmytemperwithDelaney,butthat’swhatallthisisabout,right?Itscaredyou.Itmadeyouseemeassomerecklesscavemanwhocan’tcontrolhisviolenturges,right?”
Shockfillshereyes.“No.Ofcoursenot.”
Theconvictioninhervoicemakesmefalter.It’ssoeasyformetoreadthisgirl,andasIsearchhereyes,Ican’tfindevenahintthatshemightbelyingtome.But…fuck.Ifshe’snotpissedaboutDelaney,thenwhythehellisshedoingthis?
“We’removingtoofast,”sheinsists.“That’swhatthisisabout.”
“Fine,”Isaytersely.“Thenlet’sslowitdown.Whatisityouwant?Youwantustoseeeachotheronlyonceaweek?Stopcrashingateachother’splaces?Whatdoyouwant?”
Ithoughtmyheartcouldn’tthrobanyworsethanthis,butthenshestabsanotherswordofagonyintoit.
“Iwantustoseeotherpeople.”
AllIcandoisstareather.I’mafraidofwhatmightcomeoutofmymouthifItrytotalk.
“Imean,I’veonlyhadoneseriousrelationshipbeforeyou,Garrett.HowdoIknowwhatloveis?Whatifthere’ssomethingmoreoutthere…someoneelse…something…better,Iguess.”
SweetJesus.Shejustkeepstwistingtheknifedeeperanddeeper.
“Collegeisallaboutexploringyouroptions,right?”She’stalkingsofastnowthatit’sdifficulttokeepup.“I’msupposedtobemeetingpeopleandgoingondatesandfindingoutwhoIamandallthatstuff,oratleastthat’swhatIwashopingtodothisyear.Ididn’texpectyouandItogettogether,andIreallydidn’texpectittogetsoserious,sofast.”Sheshrugshelplessly.“I’mconfused,okay?AndIthinkwhatIneedrightnowissometimeto…youknow…tothink,”shefinishesfeebly.
IbitetheinsideofmycheekuntilItastebloodinmymouth.ThenIdrawalong,unstablebreathandcrossmyarms.“Allright,soletmegetthisstraight—andfeelfreetocorrectmeifI’mwrong.Youfellinlovewithmeanddidn’texpectit,sonowyouwanttodateotherpeopleandfuckotherguys—sorry,youwanttoexplore,justontheoffchancethatyoumeetsomeonewhoisbetterthanme.”
Sheavertshergaze.
“Isthatwhatyou’resaying?”MyvoiceiscoldenoughtofreezeeverythingsouthoftheEquator
Afteraneternityofsilence,shelooksup.
Thenshenods.
I’mprettysureshehearsthemassivecrackinmychestasmyheartsplitsopenlikeawatermelon.Godknowsshe’stheoneresponsibleforit.
Inthebackofmymind,alittlevoicewhispers,Thisiswrong
Nofuckingkidding,asshole.There’snothingrightaboutthis.
“I’mgoingtoleavenow.”I’mamazedthatmyparalyzedvocalcordsallowmetospeak.I’mnotamazedbythenakedangerinmytone.“BecauseIhonestlycan’tlookatyourightnow.”
Atinybreathpuffsoutofhermouth.Shedoesn’tsayaword.
Istaggertothedoor,mybrainandheartandmotorfunctionseerilyclosetoshuttingdownonme,butImanageonehoarsepartinglineasIreachthethreshold.“Youknowwhat,Wellsy?”Ourgazeslockandherlipstrembleasifshe’stryingnottocry.“Forsomeonewho’ssodamnstrong,youreallyareafuckingcoward.”
Alcohol.Ineedsomefuckingalcohol.
There’snoalcoholinthefridge.
IbarrelupthestairstwoatatimeandburstintoLogan’sbedroomwithoutknocking.Fortunately,he’snotinthemiddleofboningsomenamelesspuckbunny.Iwouldn’thavecaredifhewas.I’mamanonamission,andLogan’sclosetisthemission.
“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”hedemandsasIthrowopentheclosetdoorandreachforthetopshelf.
“Takingyourwhiskey.”
“Why?”
Why?Why?
Maybebecausemychestfeelslikesomeonescrapeditwithadullrazorbladeforthepasttenyears?Andthentheytookthatrazorbladeandshoveditdownmythroatsoitwouldtearupmywindpipeandshredmyinsides.Andthentoaddinsulttoinjury,theyrippedmyheartoutandthrewitontheicesoanentirehockeyteamcouldslashitupwiththeirskates.
Yup.Sothat’swhereI’matrightnow
“JesusChrist,G,what’sgoingon?”
IfindLogan’sJackDaniel’sbottleunderneathanoldhockeyhelmetandcurlmyfingersaroundit.“Hannahdumpedme,”Imumble.
IhearLogan’sshockedbreath.Abitter,spitefulpartofmewondersifhe’shappybythenews.Ifhethinksthismightbehisgoldenopportunitytomoveinonmygirlfriend.
Sorry.Myex-girlfriend.
ButwhenIturnaround,Ifindnothingbutsympathyflashinginhiseyes.“Shit,man.I’msorry.”
“Yeah,”Imutter.“Metoo.”
“Whathappened?”
Itwistoffthebottlecap.“AskmeagainwhenI’mshit-faced.MaybeI’llbedrunkenoughtotellyou.”
Iswallowadeepswigofwhiskey.Normallythealcoholwouldburnitswaydowntomygut.TonightI’mtoonumbtofeelit.
Loganstopsaskingmequestions.Hewandersoverandsnatchesthewhiskeyfrommyhand.“Well.”Hesighsbeforeraisingthebottletohislipsandtippinghisheadback.“ThenIguesswe’regettingshit-faced.”41
HANNAH
IknewIwouldbeabasketcasefortherestofthesemester,butIdidn’texpectittobebecauseofthehollowcaverninmychestthatusedtoholdmyheart.
Ihaven’tseenorspokentoGarrettinaweek.Aweekisnotalongtime.I’venoticedthatasIgetolder,timeseemstoflybyinhyper-speed.Youblink,andaweekhaspassed.Blinkagain,andayearhasgoneby.
ButeversinceIbrokeupwithGarrett,timehasrevertedbacktothewayitwaswhenIwaslittle.Whenaschoolyearfeltlikeforever,andasummerneverseemedtoend.Timehassloweddown,andit’sexcruciating.Thesepastsevendaysmayaswellbesevenyears.Sevendecades
Imissmyboyfriend.
AndIhatemyboyfriend’sfatherforputtingmeinthisimpossiblesituation.IhatehimformakingmebreakGarrett’sheart.
Youwanttoexplore,justontheoffchancethatyoumeetsomeonewhoisbetterthanme.
Garrett’sbleakrecapofmylying-through-my-teethbreakupspeechcontinuestobuzzinmybrainlikeaswarmoflocusts.
Someonebetterthanhim?
God,itkilledmetosaythat.Tohurthimlikethat.Thebittertasteofthosewordsstillburnsmytongue,becausedamnit,someonebetterthanhim?
There’snoonebetterthanhim.GarrettisthebestmanI’veeverknown.Andnotjustbecausehe’ssmartandsexyandfunnyandsomuchsweeterthanIevergavehimcreditfor.Hemakesmefeelalive.Yeah,webicker,andsure,hiscockinessdrivesmecrazysometimes,butwhenI’mwithhim,Ifeelwhole.IfeellikeIcandropmyguardcompletelyandnothavetoworryaboutgettinghurtortakenadvantageoforbeingafraid,becauseGarrettGrahamwillalwaysbetheretoloveandprotectme.
Theonlysilverliningtothisawfulmessisthattheteamiswinningagain.TheylostthegamethatGarrettmissedthankstohissuspension,butthey’veplayedtwomoresincethen,includingoneagainstEastwood,theirconferencerival,andtheywonboth.Iftheykeepgoingthewaythey’regoing,Garrettwillgetwhathewants—he’llleadBriartothechampionshipsinhisfirstyearascaptain.
“OhGod.Pleasedon’ttellmethat’swhatyou’rewearingtonight.”Alliemarchesintomybedroomandfrownsatmyoutfit.“No.Iforbidit.”
Iglancedownatmyrattyplaidpantsandsweatshirtwiththecollarcutoff.“What?No.”Ipointtothegarmentbagdanglingfromthehookbehindmydoor.“I’mwearingthat.”
“Ooooh.Letmesee.”
Allieunzipsthebagandproceedstoooohandaaahoverthestraplesssilverdressinsideit.HeranimatedreactionisatestamenttohowoutofitI’vebeenthisweek.IwasprettymuchinatrancewhenIdrovetoHastingstobuythisdressfortheshowcase,andalthoughit’sbeenhangingonmydoorforfourdays,IneverbotheredshowingitofftoAllie.
Idon’twanttoshowitoff.Hell,Idon’tevenwanttowearit.ThewintershowcasestartsintwohoursandIcouldnotcareless.Theentiresemesterhasbeenbuildinguptothisonestupidperformance.
AndIcouldnot.Care.Less.
WhenAllienoticesmydisinterestedface,herexpressionsoftens.“Aw,Han-Han,whydon’tyoujustcallhim?”
“Becausewebrokeup,”Imumble.
Shenodsslowly.“Andwhyisthatagain?”
I’mtoodepressedtogiveherthesamebullshitexcuseIdishedoutaweekago.Ihaven’tconfessedtoAllieormyfriendstherealreasonIendedthingswithGarrett.Idon’twantthemknowingabouthisassholefather.Idon’twanttothinkabouthisassholefather
SoItoldthem,andIquote,“Itdidn’tworkout.”Fourmeaslywords,andtheyhaven’tmanagedtopryasingledetailoutofmesince.
MystonysilencedragsonlongenoughforAllietoshiftindiscomfort.Thenshesighsandsays,“Doyoustillwantmetodoyourhair?”
“Sure.Ifyouwant.”Thereiszeroenthusiasminmyvoice.
Wespendthenextthirtyminutesgettingready,thoughIdon’tknowwhyAlliebothersdressingup.She’snottheonewhohastogetuponstageandsinginfrontofhundredsofstrangers.
Though,outofcuriosity,howexactlydoesonesingaheartfeltballadwhentheirhearthasbeencrushedtodust?
IguessI’mabouttofindout.
ThebackstageareaofthemainauditoriumischaoticwhenIwanderin.Studentsrushpastme,somecarryinginstruments,alldressedtoimpress.Panickyvoicesandbriskordersechoallaroundme,butIbarelyregisterthem.
ThefirstfaceIseebelongstoCass.Ourgazesholdforabeatandthenhewalksover,lookinglikeamillionbucksinablacksuitjacketandasalmon-coloreddressshirtwiththecollarproppedup.Hisdarkhairisstyledtoperfection.Hisblueeyesoffernotraceofremorseorapology.
“Greatdress,”heremarks.
Ishrug.“Thanks.”
“Nervous?”
Anothershrug.“Nope.”
I’mnotnervousbecauseIdon’tcare.IneverthoughtIwasoneofthosewimpygirlswhowalksaroundlikeazombieafterabreakupandburstsintotearsateventhesmallestreminderofhertruelove,butdepressinglyenough,Itotallyam.
“Well,breakaleg,”CasssaysoncehefiguresoutI’mnotinterestedinmakingconversation.
“Youtoo.”Ipauseand,notundermybreath,mutter,“Literally.”
Hisheadsharplyturnstowardme.“Sorry,Ididn’thearthatlastpart.”
Iraisemyvoice.“Isaid,literally.”
Thoseblueeyesdarken.“You’rearealbitch,youknowthat?”
Alaughfliesout.“Uh-huh.I’mthebitch.”
Cassscowlsatme.“What,youwantmetoapologizefortalkingtomyadvisor?BecauseI’mnotgoingto.Webothknowtheduetwasn’tworkingout.Ijusthadtheballstodosomethingaboutit.”
“You’reright,”Iagree.“Ishouldbethankingyou.Youactuallydidmeahugefavor.”Andno,I’mnotbeingsarcastic.Imeaneveryword.
Hisself-righteousexpressionwavers.“Idid?”Thenheclearshisthroat.“Yes,Idid.Ididbothofusafavor.I’mgladyou’reabletorecognizethat.”Histrademarksmirkresettlesonhislips.“Anyway,IneedtofindMJbeforetheperformance.”
Hesauntersoff,andIheadintheoppositedirectioninsearchofJae.Allthesoundchecksweredonethismorning,soeverything’sprettymuchgoodtogo.SinceI’mthelastjuniortoperform,Igettowaitaroundwithmythumbupmyassuntiltheycallmyname.Cass,ofcourse,isopeningthejuniorshowcase.Hemust’vesuckedsomeone’sdicktogetthatslot,becauseit’sthebestoneintheline-up.That’swhenthejudgesarestillbushy-eyedandexcited,eagertostartjudgingaftersittingthroughthesophomoreandfreshmanperformances,whichdon’tqualifyforscholarships.Bythetimethelastjuniorhitsthestage—gome!—everyoneistired,anxioustostretchtheirlegsorgrabasmokebeforetheseniorperformancesbegin.
IpopmyheadintoafewdressingroomslookingforJae,buthe’snowheretobefound.Ihopemycellisthasn’tdesertedme,butifhedid…well…Idon’tcare.
ImissGarrett.Ican’tgofivesecondswithoutthinkingabouthim,andthereminderthathe’snotintheaudiencetonightislikeakaratechoptotheneck.Mywindpipeclosesup,makingitimpossibletobreathe.
“Hannah,”ameekvoicecallsout.
Istifleasigh.Shit.I’msonotinthemoodtotalktoMaryJanerightnow.
ButthelittleblondedashesovertomebeforeIcanmakemyescape,trappingmeinthedoorwayofthedressingroomIwasabouttoenter.“Canwetalk?”sheblurtsout.
Thesighescapes.“Idon’thavetimeforthatrightnow.I’mlookingforJae.”
“Oh,he’sinthegreenroomontheeaststage.Ijustsawhim.”
“Thanks.”Istarttowalkoff,butsheblocksmypath.“Hannah,please.Ireallyneedtotalktoyou.”
Annoyanceclampsaroundmythroat.“Look,ifyou’retryingtoapologize,don’tbother.Apologynotaccepted.”
Hurtflashesinhereyes.“Pleasedon’tsaythat.BecauseIreallyamsorry.I’mso,sosorryforwhatIdid.Ishouldn’thaveletCasstalkmeintoit.”
“Nokidding.”
“I…Ijustcouldn’tsaynotohim.”Ahelplesschordwobbleshervoice.“Ilikedhimsomuch,andhewassoattentiveandencouraging,andheinsistedthatthesongwasmeantforoneperformerandthathewastheonlyonewhocoulddoitjustice.”MaryJane’sentirefacecollapses.“Ishouldn’thavegonebehindyourback.Ishouldn’thavedonethattoyou.I’m…sosorry.”
Itdoesn’tescapemethatshe’susingthepasttenseinregardstoCass.AndalthoughI’majerkfordoingit,Ican’thelpbutlaugh.“Hedumpedyou,didn’the?”
Sheavoidsmyeyes,herteethsinkingintoherlowerlip.“Rightafterhegotthesolo.”
Idon’tpityalotofpeople.Imean,sympathy?Ihandthatoutfreely.PityisreservedforsomeoneItrulyfeelsorryfor.
IpityMaryJane.
“ShouldIbothersayingItoldyouso?”Iask.
Sheshakesherhead.“No.Iknowyouwereright.AndIknowIwasstupid.Iwantedtobelievethatsomeonelikehimwasactuallyinterestedinsomeonelikeme.IwantedittobetruesobadlythatIscrewedupmyfriendshipwithyou.”
“We’renotfriends,MJ.”IknowI’mbeingharsh,butIguessmytactfilterbrokeatthesametimemyheartdidbecauseIdon’tbothersofteningmytoneorcensoringmywords.“Iwouldneverscrewoverafriendlikethat.Especiallyoveraguy.”
“Please…”Shegulps.“Can’twejuststartover?I’msosorry.”
“Iknowyouare.”Iofferasadsmile.“Look,I’msureeventuallyI’llbeabletotalktoyouwithoutthinkingaboutallthisshit,maybeeventrustyouagain,butI’mnotthereyet.”
“Igetit,”shesaysweakly.
“IreallyneedtofindJae.”Iforceanothersmile.“I’msureCasswilldoagreatjobwithyoursong,MJ.Hemightbeanasshole,buthe’sadamngoodvocalist.”
Idartoffbeforeshecanrespond.
ItrackdownJaeandwehangoutbackstageuntiltheshowstarts.Afterweeksofnonstoprehearsing,we’vebecomefriends,thoughJaeisstillasshyaseverandafraidofhisownshadow.Buthe’sonlyafreshman,soI’mhopinghecomesoutofhisshellonceheadaptstocollegelife.
Thefreshmanandsophomoresareupfirst.JaeandIstandinthewings,stageleft,watchingasperformerafterperformertakesthestage,butIhavetroubleconcentratingonwhatI’mhearingandseeing.
I’mnotinthemoodtosingtonight.AllIcanthinkaboutisGarrett,andtheagonyinhiseyeswhenIbrokeupwithhim,theslumpofhisshoulderswhenheleftmydorm.
IhavetoremindmyselfthatIdiditforhim,sothathecanstayatBriarandplaythegameheloveswithouthavingtoworryaboutmoney.IfIhadtoldhimabouthisfather’sthreats,Garrettwouldhavechosenourrelationshipoverhisfuture,butIdon’twanthimtoworkfull-time,damnit.Idon’twanthimtodropout,orquithockey,orstressaboutmakingrentorcarpayments.Iwanthimtogototheprosandshoweveryonehowtalentedheis.Provetotheworldthathe’sontheicebecausehebelongsthere,andnotbecausehisfathergothimthere.
Iwanthimtobehappy.
EvenifthatmeansIhavetobemiserable.
There’sashortintermissionafterthelastsophomoreperforms,andbackstageishitwithpandemoniumagain.JaeandIarenearlyknockedoffourfeetasanever-endingstreamofrobe-cladstudentspourontothestage.Irealizethey’rethemembersofCass’schoir.
“Thatcould’vebeenus.”IgrinatJaeaswewatchthechoirgetinpositiononthedarkstage.“Cass’sarmyofminions.”
Hislipstwitch.“Ithinkwedodgedabullet.”
“Metoo.”
Whentheshowstartsupagain,thistimeI’mgivingitmyfullattention,becausetheprodigythatisCassidyDonovanhasgracedthestage.AsthepianistplaystheopeningchordsofMJ’ssong,Iexperienceatwingeofjealousy.Damn,it’ssuchagreatsong.Ibitemylip,worriedthatmysimplelittleballadfallsshortcomparedtoMaryJane’sbeautifulcomposition.
Ican’tlie.Casssingsthehelloutofthesong.Everynote,everyrun,everyfrickin’pause,isabsoluteperfection.Helooksgreatoutthere,soundsevenbetter,andwhenthechoirjoinsinandgoesallSister-Actontheplace,theperformancekicksintoawholenewgear.
There’sonlyonethingmissing—emotion.WhenMJfirstplayedthesongforme,Ifeltit.Ifeltherconnectiontothelyricsandthepainbehindthem.Tonight,Ifeelnothing,thoughI’mnotsureifthat’sbecauseofafailureonCass’spart,oriflettingGarrettgorobbedmeoftheabilitytofeelemotions.
ButIsureashellamfeelingsomethingwhenIsettlebehindthepianothirtyminuteslater.AsthehauntingstrainsofJae’scellofillthestage,it’slikeadambreaksinsideme.GarrettisthefirstpersonIsangthissongto,backwhenitwasroughandchoppyandnowhereclosetopolished.AndGarrettistheonewholistenedtomerehearseitandhoneitandperfectit.
WhenIopenmymouthandstarttosing,I’msingingitforGarrett.I’mtransportedtothatpeacefulplace,myhappylittlebubblewherenothingbadeverhappens.Wheregirlsdon’tgetrapedandsexisn’thardandpeopledon’tbreakupbecauseabusiveassholesforcethemto.MyfingerstrembleontheivorykeysandmyheartsqueezeswitheverybreathItake,everywordIsing.
WhenI’mdone,silencecrashesovertheauditorium.
AndthenIgetastandingovation.
Irisetomyfeet,andonlybecauseJaewalksoverandforcesmetosowecantakeabow.Thespotlightblindsmeandthecheersdeafenme.IknowAllieandStellaandMegareouttheresomewhere,ontheirfeetandscreamingtheirlungsout,butIcan’tseetheirfaces.Contrarytowhatmoviesandtelevisionshowsleadyoutobelieve,it’simpossibletomakeeyecontactwithafaceinthecrowdwhenablastoflightishittingyouintheeyes.
JaeandIleavethestageandheadforthewings,andsomeoneinstantlyswallowsmeinabearhug.It’sDexter,andhissmiletakesuphisentirefaceashecongratulatesme.
“Thosebetterbehappytears!”hesays.
Itouchmycheek,surprisedtofeelmoisturethere.Ihadn’tevenrealizedIwascrying.
“Thatwasspectacular,”avoiceburstsout,andIturntoseeFionamarchingtowardme.Shesweepsmeintoherarmsandhugsme.“Youwerebreathtaking,Hannah.Bestperformanceofthenight.”
Herwordsdon’teasethetightacheinmychest.Imanageanodandmumble,“Ineedtousetheladies’room.Excuseme.”
IleaveDex,Fiona,andJaestaringaftermeinconfusion,butIdon’tcare,andIdon’tslowdown.Fucktheladies’room.Andfucktherestofthisshowcase.Idon’twanttostandaroundandwatchtheseniorperformances.Idon’twanttowaitforthescholarshipceremony.Ijustwanttogetthehelloutofhereandfindaprivateplacetocry.
Isprinttowardtheexit,mysilverballetflatsslappingthehardwoodfloorinmydesperateneedtoflee.
I’mfivefeetfromthedoorwhenIsmackintoahardmalechest.
Mygazefliesupandlandsonapairofgrayeyes,andittakesasecondtorealizeI’mlookingatGarrett.
Neitheroneofusspeaks.He’swearingblacktrousersandabluebutton-downthatstretchesacrosshisbroadshoulders.Hisexpressionisamixtureofshiningwonderandendlesssorrow.
“Hi,”hesaysgruffly.
Myheartdoesahappysomersault,andIhavetoremindmyselfthatthisisn’tahappyoccasion,thatwe’restillbrokenup.“Hi.”
“Youwere…brilliant.”Thosebeautifuleyesgoabitglassy.“Absolutelybeautiful.”
“Youwereintheaudience?”Iwhisper.
“WherethefuckelsewouldIbe?”Buthedoesn’tsoundangry,justsad.Thenhisvoicethickensandhemurmurs,“Howmany?”
Confusionslidesthroughme.“Howmanywhat?”
“Howmanyguyshaveyoudatedthisweek?”
Ijerkinsurprise.“None,”IblurtoutbeforeIcanstopmyself.
AndIregretitinstantly,becauseaknowingglimmerfillshiseyes.“Yeah,Ididn’tthinkso.”
“Garrett—”
“Here’sthething,Wellsy,”heinterrupts.“I’vehadsevenwholedaystothinkaboutthisbreakup.Thefirstnight?Igotwasted.Seriouslyfuckingtrashed.”
Ajoltofpanichitsme,becauseitsuddenlyoccurstomethathemighthavehookedupwithsomeoneelsewhenhewasdrunk,andthethoughtofGarrettwithanothergirlkillsme.
Butthenhekeepstalkingandmyanxietyeases.“Afterthat,Isoberedupandwisedupanddecidedtomakebetteruseofmytime.So…I’vehadsevenwholedaystoanalyzeandreanalyzewhathappenedbetweenus,todissectwhatwentwrong,toreexamineeverywordyousaidthatnight…”Heslantshishead.“DoyouwanttoknowtheconclusionIreached?”
God,I’mterrifiedtohearit.
WhenIdon’tanswer,hesmiles.“Myconclusionisthatyouliedtome.Idon’tknowwhyyoudidit,buttrustme,Iintendtofindout.”
“Ididn’tlie,”Ilie.“Wereallyweremovingtoofastforme.AndIreallydowanttoseeotherpeople.”
“Uh-huh.Really?”
Iputonmymostinsistenttone.“Really.”
Garrettgoesquietforamoment.Thenhereachesoutandlightlystrokesmycheekbeforepullingbackandsaying,“I’llbelieveitwhenIseeit.”42
HANNAH
Christmasbreakdoesn’tcomesoonenough.IamliterallyamessasIboardtheplanetoPhilly—dressedinsweats,sportingbedhead,andcoveredwithstresszits.Sincetheshowcase,I’verunintoGarrettthreetimes.OnceattheCoffeeHut,onceinthequad,andonceoutsidetheEthicslecturehallwhenIcametopickupmygradedpaper.Allthreetimes,heaskedmehowmanyguysI’vedatedsinceourbreakup.
Allthreetimes,Ipanicked,blurtedoutsomeexcuseaboutbeinglate,andranofflikeacoward.
Here’sthethingaboutbreakingupwithsomeoneunderfalsepretenses.Theydon’tbuyyourbullshitunlessyouactuallyturnaroundanddothethingyousaidyouwantedtodo.Inmycase,Ineedtobedatingawholebunchofrandomsandgettingmyexplorationon,becausethat’swhatItoldGarrettIwanted,andifIdon’tputmymoneywheremymouthis,he’llknowsomething’sup
IsupposeIcouldasksomeoneout.GoonaverypublicdatethatGarrettwillnodoubthearaboutandconvincetheguyIlovethatI’vemovedon.ButthethoughtofbeingwithanyoneotherthanGarrettmakesmewanttothrowup.
Fortunately,Idon’thavetoworryaboutanyofthatrightnow.I’vegottenareprieve,becauseI’llbespendingthenextthreeweekswithmyfamily.
Igetontheplane,andforthefirsttimesinceGarrett’sfatherissuedhispunishingultimatum,I’mfinallyabletobreathe
SeeingmyparentsisjustwhatIneeded.Don’tgetmewrong,IstillthinkaboutGarrettnonstop,butit’saloteasiertodistractmyselffromtheheartachewhenI’mbakingChristmascookieswithmydadorbeingdraggedintothecityforadayofshoppingwithmymomandaunt
OnoursecondnightinPhilly,ItoldmymomaboutGarrett.Orrather,shewrestleditoutofmeaftershecaughtmemopingintheguestroom.SheinformedmethatIlookedlikeahobowho’djustcrawledoutfromundertheboardwalkandproceededtoshovemeintheshowerandforcemetobrushmyhair.Afterthat,Ispilledmyguts,whichpromptedMomtolaunchwhatshe’snowcallingOperationHolidayCheer.Inotherwords,she’scrammedagazillionholidayactivitiesdownmythroat,andIloveherdearlyforit.
I’mnotlookingforwardtogoingbacktoBriarinthreedays,whereGarrettisundoubtedlyplanninghisownnot-so-covertop—OperationGetHannahToAdmitSheWasLying.Ijustknowhe’sgoingtotrytowinmeback.
Ialsoknowitwon’ttakemucheffortonhispart.Allhehastodoislookatmewiththosegorgeousgrayeyes,flashthatcrookedgrinofhis,andI’llbreakdownintears,throwmyarmsaroundhim,andtellhimeverything.
Imisshim.
“Hey,sweetie,areyoucomingdowntowatchtheballdropwithus?”Momappearsinthedoorwayandholdsupabowlofpopcornenticingly,andI’mremindedofthefirsttimeIspentthenightatGarrett’s,whenwestuffedourselvesfullofpopcornandwatchedhoursoftelevision.
“Yeah,I’llbedownsoon,”Ianswer.“Ijustwanttochangeintocomfyclothes.”
Onceshewalksoff,Iclimboffthebedanddigaroundinmysuitcaseforapairofyogapants.Iwiggleoutofmyskinnyjeansandreplacethemwiththesoftcottonpants,thenheaddownstairstothelivingroom,wheremyparents,myauntanduncle,andtheirfriendsBillandSusanareallloungingontheL-shapedcouches.
I’mspendingNewYear’sEvewiththreemiddle-agedcouples.
Par-ty
“So,Hannah,”Susanpipesup,“yourmotherwasjusttellingmethatyouwonaprestigiousscholarshiprecently.”
Ifeelmyselfblushing.“Idon’tknowaboutprestigious.Imean,theygivethemouteveryyearforthewinterandspringshowcases.Butyeah,Ididwin.”
Takethat,CassDonovan,myinnersmugmonstershouts.
Ihadn’tplannedongoingbacktotheauditoriumafterIranintoGarrettattheshowcase,butFionaendedupcatchingmejustasIwastryingtosneakoutanddraggedmebacktothestage.Andyep,Ican’tdenythathearingmynameannouncedatthescholarshipceremonygavemeatotalvictoryhigh.AndI’llneverforgettheoutrageonCass’sfacewhenherealizedtheyhadn’tcalledhisname.
NowI’mfivegrandricher,andmyparentscantakeabreatherbecauseI’llbeabletopaymyresidenceandmealexpensesonmyownforthisupcomingsemester.
Attentomidnight,UncleMarkputsanendtoourchatterbyunmutingthetelevisionsowecanwatchtheTimesSquarecelebration.AuntNicolehandsoutcardboardnoisemakerswithpinkstreamersonthemwhilemymotherpassesaroundhandfulsofconfettitoeveryone.Myfamilyischeesy,butIwouldn’ttradethemforanythingintheworld.
MyeyesaresurprisinglymistyasweallcountdownalongwiththeannouncerontheTV.Thenagain,maybethetearsaren’tsurprising,becausewhentheclockreacheszeroandeveryonescreams“HAPPYNEWYEAR!”Irememberthatthestrikeofmidnightdoesn’tjustindicatethestartofanewyear.
January1stisalsoGarrett’sbirthday.
Iclampmylipstogethertostoptherushoftears,forcingalaughasmyfatherspinsmearoundinhisarmsandkissesmycheek.“HappyNewYear,princess.”
“HappyNewYear,Dad.”
Hisgreeneyessoftenwhenhenoticesmysadexpression.“Aw,kiddo,whydon’tyoupickupthephoneandcallthatpoorboyalready?It’sNewYear’sEve.”
Myjawdrops,andthenIswivelmyheadatmymother.“Youtoldhim?”
Sheatleasthasthedecencytolookguilty.“Heaskedwhyyouweremopey.Icouldn’tnottellhim.”
Mydadchuckles.“Oh,don’tblameyourmom,Han.Ifigureditoutallbymyself.You’vebeensomiserableIknewithadtobeboytrouble.Nowgowishhimahappynewyear.You’llregretitifyoudon’t.”
Isigh.ButIknowhe’sright.
MypulsespeedsupasIhurryupstairs.Ifishmycellphoneoutofmypurse,thenhesitate,becausereally,thisisnotagoodidea.Ibrokeupwithhim.I’msupposedtobemovingonandseeingotherpeopleandblahfuckingblah.
Butit’shisbirthday
Iexhaleashakybreathandmakethecall.
Garrettanswersonthefirstring.Iexpecttohearnoiseinthebackground.Chatter,laughter,drunkenyells.Butwhereverheis,it’sasquietasachurch.
Hishuskyvoiceticklesmyear.“HappyNewYear,Hannah.”
“Happybirthday,Garrett.”
There’saslightpause.“Youremembered.”
Iblinkthroughmytears.“OfcourseIdid.”
TherearesomanyotherthingsIwanttosaytohim.Iloveyou.Imissyou.Ihateyourfather.ButItampdowntheurgeandsaynothingatall.
“How’sthedatinggoing?”heaskscheerfully.
Mystomachgoesrigid.“Uh…it’sgreat.”
“Yeah?Doinglotsofexploring?Conductingathoroughsearchforthemeaningoflove?”
There’samockingnotethere,butmorethananything,hesoundsamused.Smug,even.
“Yep,”Isaylightly.
“Howmanyguyshaveyoudated?”
“Afew.”
“Awesome.Ihopethey’retreatingyouright.Youknow,openingdoorsforyou,layingtheirjacketsonthegroundsoyoucanwalkoverpuddles,thatkindofstuff.”
God,he’ssuchajackass.Ilovehim.
“Don’tworry,they’reallverychivalrous,”Iassurehim.“I’mhavingablast.”
“Goodtohear.”Hepauses.“I’llseeyouinafewdays.Youcantellmeallaboutit.”
Hehangsup,andIcurseundermybreath.
Damnit.Whyishepushingthis?Whycan’thejustacceptthatit’soverbetweenusandfocusonhisstupidhockeyteam?
AndhowthehellamIgoingtoconvincehimIdon’twanttobewithhimwhenIcan’tevenconvincemyself?43
HANNAH
Myseconddaybackoncampus,Iembarkonmyownmission:OperationBelieveItWhenYouSeeIt.BecauseclearlytheonlywayIcanconvinceGarretttobackoffistoprovetohimthatI’mintheprocessofmovingon,whichmeansIneedtofindaguytogooutonadatewith.Stat.
ThefirstopportunityariseswhenIpopintotheCoffeeHuttograbahotchocolate.It’ssnowinglikeabitchoutside,andIstompthesnowoffmybootsonthematbythedoorbeforeheadingforthebackoftheline.That’swhenInoticethattheguyinfrontofmelooksfamiliar.Whenheplaceshisorderandmovestothepick-upcounter,Igetaflashofhisprofileandrealizeit’sJimmy.Jimmy…what’shislastnameagain?Pauley?No,Paulson.JimmyPaulsonfromBritishLitandtheSigmaparty.Perfect.We’vegothistory.We’repracticallyinarelationship.
“Jimmy,hey,”IgreethimafterIordermydrinkandjoinhimatthecounter.
Hevisiblystiffensatthesoundofmyvoice.“Oh.Hey.”Hisgazedartsaroundthecoffeeshop,asifhedoesn’twantanyonetoseeustalking.
“So,listen,”Istart,“Iwasjustthinking,wehaven’treallytalkedsincethatpartybackinOctober…”
ThebaristaplopsafoamcupinfrontofJimmy,whosnatchesitupsofastIdon’tevenseehishandmove.
Ihurryon.“Ithoughtitwouldbenicetocatchupand…”
He’salreadyedgingawayfromme.Jesus,whydoeshelooksoterrified?DoeshethinkI’mgoingtoshivhimorsomething?
“…Iwaswonderingifmaybeyouwanttograbacoffeesometime,”Ifinish
“Oh.”Heinchesfartheraway.“Uh.Thanksfortheoffer,but…uh,yeah,Idon’tdrinkcoffee.”
Istareatthecoffeecupinhishand.
Hefollowsmygazeandgulps.“I’msorry,Ihavetogo.I’m…meetingsomeone…allthewayontheothersideofthecampusandit’s…uh,far,soI’mkindofinahurry.”
Well,atleasthe’snotlyingaboutbeinginahurry—becausehefliesoutthedoorlikeanOlympicsprinter.
Okay,thatwas…weird.
Frowning,Igetmyhotchocolateandgooutside,headinginthedirectionofBristolHouse.It’sslowgoingbecausethesnowisfallingfasterthanthecampusmaintenancecrewscanshovelit,andmybootssinkintotwofeetofiteverytimeItakeastep.Buttheforcedleisurelypaceallowsmetoencounteranotherelementofweirdness.WhenIwasdatingGarrett,peoplesaidhelloandwavedtomeallthetime.Today,everyoneIpassseemstobegoingoutoftheirwaytoavoidme,particularlytheguys.
IsthiswhatdisgracedAmishpeoplefeellikewhenthey’vebeenshunned?Becauseeveryoneislookingrightthroughme,andIdon’tlikeit.
Ialsodon’tunderstandit.
AsImakemywaytothedorms,IdecidetogiveDexteracallandseeifhewantstogoouttonight.MaybetoMalone’s—no,wait,Garrettmightbethere.Anotherbarintown,then.Orthecollegerechall.AnywhereImightbeabletomeetaguy.
IapproachBristoljustasopportunitynumbertwoexitsthebuildingnextdoor.It’sJustin,andunliketherestoftheworld,heactuallyliftshishandinawave.
Iwaveback,mostlyoutofreliefthatsomeonelookshappytoseeme.
“Hey,stranger,”hecalls,makinghiswayovertome.
He’ssportingthatrumpled,rolled-out-of-bedhair,andyetIdon’tfinditsoadorableanymore.Itjustmakeshimlooklikeaslob.Ormaybeaphony,becauseI’mprettysureIcanseegelinhishair,whichmeanshemust’vetakenthetimetocreatetheI-don’t-carestyle.Whichmakeshimafuckingliar
Imeethimhalfway.“Hey.Howwasyourbreak?”
“Good.NotmuchraininSeattlethistimeofyear,soIhadtosettleforashittonofsnowinstead.Wentsnowboarding,skiing,hot-tubbing.Funtimes.”Justin’sdimplespopout,andtheydonothingforme.
But…hell,he’stheonlyguywho’ssomuchaslookedmywaytoday.Beggarscan’tbechoosers,right?
“Soundsfun.Um,so—”
Nope.
Nope,nope,nope.Just…nope.
Ican’tgothere.Notwiththisguy.GarretthelpedmemakeJustinjealousbackinOctober.IcanceledadatewithhimwhenIrealizedIwantedtobewithGarrett.AndIknowhowmuchGarrettdislikesJustin.
There’snowayIcanopenthisJustindoor,notjustbecausemyfeelingsforhimarenonexistent,butbecauseitwouldbelikestickingaknifeinGarrett’schest.
“Sohi,”Ifinish.“Yeah…Ijustcameovertosayhi.”Iholdupmyhotchocolatecupasifit’ssomehowapartofthisconversation.“I’mgoinginsidetodrinkthis.Goodtoseeyou.”
Hisannoyedvoicechillsmyback.“Whatthefuckjusthappened?”heasks.
Theguiltprickingatmystomachspursmetoturnaround.“I’msorry,”Isaywithasigh.“I’msuchanasshole.”
Awrysmileplaysonhislips.“Well,Ididn’twanttosayit,but…”
Iwalkbacktohim,myglovedhandsstillwrappedaroundmycup.“Inevermeanttoleadyouon,”Iadmit.“WhenIsaidI’dgooutwithyou,Ireallywantedtoatthetime.Imeanit.”Painlodgesinmythroat.“Ididn’texpecttofallforhim,Justin.”
Nowhejustlooksresigned.“Dopeopleeverexpecttofallforsomeone?Ithinkitjustkindahappens.”
“Yeah,Iguessso.He…snuckuponme.”Imeethiseyes,hopinghecanseethegenuineregretI’mfeeling.“ButIwasinterestedinyou.Ineverliedaboutthat.”
“Was,huh?”Hesoundssad.
“I’msorry,”Isayagain.“I’m…damnit,I’mamess,andI’mstillinlovewithGarrett,butifyoueverwanttostartover,asfriends,I’monehundredpercentonboard.WecantalkHemingwaysometimes.”
Justin’slipstwitch.“HowdoyouknowIlikeHemingway?”
Igivehimafaintsmile.“Um.Well,ImayhavedonesomereconbackwhenIhadacrushonyou.See?Iwasn’tlyingaboutthat.”
RatherthanmakeacrosswithhishandsandshoutStalker!,hechucklessoftly.“Huh.Iguessnot.That’sgoodtoknow,atleast.”
Afteranawkwardsilence,Justinshoveshishandsinhisjacketpockets.“Allright.I’mupforgivingthisfriendthingashot.Textmeifyoueverwanttograbcoffeesometime.”
Hewandersoff,andaweightliftsoffmychest.
Upstairsinmydorm,Icongratulatemyselfonapotentialdisasteravertedandreturntomullingovermymission.Alliedoesn’tgetbackfromNewYorkuntiltomorrow.Stellaisoutoftown,too.WhenItextDex,hevetoesahangoutsessionbecausehe’scrammingforhislastexam.WhenImessageMeg,shesaysshehasplanswithJeremy.
Sighing,Iscrollthroughmyphonecontactsuntilanamesparksmyinterest.Actually,themoreIthinkaboutit,themoreIliketheideaofmakingthiscall.
Allie’sboyfriendpicksupafterseveralrings.“Hey,what’sup?”
“Hey.It’sHannah.”
“Nokidding,”Seancracks.“Yournumberisinmyphone.”
“Oh,right.”Ihesitate.“Solisten,IknowAllieisn’tbackfromherdad’syet,butIwaswonderingif…”Itrailoff,thenblurtout,“Whatareyoudoingtonight?Doyouwanttohangout?”
Mybestfriend’sboyfriendfallssilent.Idon’tblamehim.I’venevercalledhimtohangoutwithoutAlliebefore.Forthatmatter,I’venevercalledhim,period.
“Yourealizethisisweird,right?”Seansaysfrankly.
Isigh.“Yes.”
“What’sgoingon?Areyoujustboredorsomething?Oristhisafuckeduphit-on-your-friend’s-boyfriendkindathing?Wait—isAllielisteningin?”Seanraiseshisvoice.“Allie,ifyou’rethere,Iloveyou.Iwouldnever,evercheatonyouwithyourbestfriend.”
Isnortintothephone.“She’snotontheline,dumbass,butthat’sgoodtoknow.Andtrustme,I’mnothittingonyou.I…well…Iwashopingwecouldhangoutwithsomeofyourfratbrotherstonight.Maybeyoucould,youknow,setmeupwithoneofthem.”
“Areyouserious?”heexclaims.“Nofuckingway.You’retoogoodforanyofthoseidiots,andI’mprettysureAlliewouldkillmeifIhookedyouupwithoneofthem.Besides…”Heclamsupabruptly.
“Besideswhat?”Idemand.
Hedoesn’tanswer.
“Finishthatsentence,Sean.”
“I’drathernot.”
“I’dratheryoudid.”Mysuspicionsnapsintooverdrive.“OhmyGod.”Igasp.“DoyouknowwhyeveryguyoncampusissuddenlytreatingmelikeIhaveanSTD?”
“Maybe?”hesays.
“Maybe?”Whenhedoesn’tanswer,Igroaninfrustration.“IsweartoGod,ifyoudon’ttellmewhatyouknow,I’ll—”
“Okay,okay,”heinterrupts.“I’lltellyou.”
Andthenhedoes.
Andmyresponseisaloudshriekofoutrage.
“Hedidwhat?”
Twentyminuteslater,IburstthroughthedoorsofBriar’shockeyarena.Coldairimmediatelyslapsmycheeks,butitdoesn’tsucceedincoolingthefireburninginsideme.It’sfivethirty,whichmeansGarrettandtheteamhavejustfinishedpractice,soIbypasstherinkdoorsandmarchrighttothelockerroomsinthebackofthebuilding.I’msopissedoffthatmywholebodyistremblingfromtheforceofmyanger.
Garretthasofficiallysteppedovertheline.No,he’ssofarpastthelinethatIcan’tevenseethestupidline.Andthere’snowayI’mlettinghimgetawaywiththisludicrous,juvenilebullshit.
Ireachthelockerroomdoorasoneoftheplayerswalksoutofit.
“IsGarrettinthere?”Ibark.
Helooksstartledtoseeme.“Yeah,but—”
Ibulldozepasthimandgrabthedoorhandle.
Theguyprotestsfrombehind.“Idon’tthinkyoushouldgointh—”
Iburstintothelockerroomand—
Penises!
SweetJesus.
Peniseseverywhere
HorrorslamsintomeasIregisterwhatI’mseeing.OhGod.I’vestumbledontoapenisconvention.Bigpenisesandsmallpenisesandfatpenisesandpenis-shapedpenises.Itdoesn’tmatterwhichdirectionImovemyheadbecauseeverywhereIlookIseepenises
Mymortifiedgaspdrawstheattentionofeverypenis—er,guy,intheroom.Inaheartbeat,towelssnapupandhandscoverjunkandbodiesshufflearound,whileIstandinthefrontoftheroomblushinglikeatomato.
“Wellsy?”Abare-chestedLogangrinsatme,oneshoulderproppedupagainsthislocker.Itlookslikehe’stryingveryhardnottolaugh.
“Penis—Logan,”Iblurtout.“Hi.”Idomybesttoavoidmakingvisualcontactwiththehalf-nakedmenmillingintheroom,allofwhomareeithergrinninginamusementorblanchinginalarm.“I’mlookingforGarrett.”
Withabarelyrestrainedsmirk,Loganhookshisthumbatadoorwayintheback,whichIassumeleadstotheshowersbecausesteamisrollingoutofit.
“Thanks.”Ishoothimagratefullookandheadinthatdirection,justassomeoneemergesfromthesteamyspace.
DeanappearsandIseehispenis.
“Hey,Wellsy,”hedrawls.Completelyunfazedbymypresence,hestrollsnakedtowardhislockerasiffindingmeinhereisadailyoccurrenceforhim.
Ichargeforward,debatingwhetherIshouldclosemyeyes,butluckilyalltheshowershavesaloon-typedoorsandaredividedbypartitions.AsImarchdownthetiledfloor,headsswivelmyway.OneoftheheadsbelongstoBirdie,whoseeyeswidenwhenIwalkpasthim.
“Hannah?”hesqueaks.
IignorehimandkeepwalkinguntilIspotafamiliarback.Mygazeconductsaquickdouble-check,andyep,goldenskin,tattoo,darkhair.It’sGarrett,allright.
Atthesoundofmyfootsteps,hetwistsaroundandgapesatthesightofme.“Wellsy?”
Istalkuptothehalf-door,levelhimwithmymeanestscowl,andshout,“Whatisthematterwithyou?”44
GARRETT
I’mgrinninglikethetownidiot.Andnowisnotthetimetobegrinninglikethetownidiot,notwhenI’mbucknakedinaroomfullofshoweringdudesandmygirlfriendisglaringdaggersatme.ButI’msohappytoseeherthatIcan’tcontrolmyfacialmuscles.
Myeyeseatupthesightofher.Hergorgeousface.Darkhairpulledbackinaponytailwithapinkhairthingie.Infuriatedgreeneyes.
She’ssodamnhotwhenshe’smadatme.
“It’snicetoseeyoutoo,baby,”Ianswercheerfully.“Howwasyourbreak?”
“Don’tyoubabyme.Anddon’taskaboutmybreakbecauseyoudon’tdeservetoknowaboutit!”Hannahglowersatme,thenshiftsherattentiontothethreehockeyplayersintheneighboringstalls.“FortheloveofPete,wouldyouguysjustrinseoffandskedaddlealready?I’mtryingtoyellatyourcaptain.”
Ichokebackalaugh,whichendsupspillingoutwhenmyteammatessnaptoattentionlikethey’vebeenissuedacommandbyadrillsergeant.Showersturnoffandtowelscomeout,andamomentlater,HannahandIarealone.
Ishutoffthefaucetandturnaround.Theshowerdoordoesagoodjobofhidingmydownstairsarea,butallHannahhastodoispeekoverandshe’llgetaneyefulofmyquicklyhardeningdick,whoisunbelievablyhappytoseeher
Butshedoesn’tsneakapeek.Shesimplykeepsglaringatme.“Youinvokedacampus-widehands-offlaw?Areyoukiddingme?”
I’mnotatallremorsefulasImeethereyes.“OfcourseIdid.”
“OhmyGod.Youareunbelievable.”Sheshakesherheadindisbelief.“Whodoesthat,Garrett?Youcan’tjustgoaroundandtellalltheguysatthisschoolthatthey’renotallowedtotouchmeoryou’llkicktheirasses!”
“Ididn’ttellalltheguys.DoIlooklikeIhavethatkindoftime?”Iflashagrin.“Itoldafewkeypeopleandmadesuretheyspreadtheword.”
“What,ifyoucan’thavemenooneelsecan?”shesaysdarkly.
Isnicker.“Well,that’sjustinsane.I’mnotapsycho,babe.Iwasdoingitforyoursake.”
Herjawdrops.“Howthehelldoyoufigurethat?”
“Becauseyou’reinlovewithme,andyoudon’twanttodateanyoneelse.Butsee,Iwasafraidyourstubbornselfwouldtrytodoitjusttobackupyourcoverstory,soIhadtotakesomepreventativemeasures.”Ipropmyforearmsonthestalldoor.“Iknewifyouwentoutwithanyoneelseyou’dendupregrettingit,andthenyou’dfeellikeanasswhenyoufinallycametoyoursenses,and,well,Iwantedtospareyouallthatpainandsuffering.You’rewelcome.”
Shelooksstunnedforamoment.
Thenshestartstolaugh.
Jesus,I’vemissedthesoundofherlaughter.I’mtemptedtohopoverthelittledoorandkissthecrapoutofher,butIdon’tgetthechance.
“Whatthehellisgoingoninhere?”
HannahjumpsinsurprisewhenCoachJensenappearsintheshowerarea.
“Oh,hey,Coach,”Icallout.“Notwhatitlookslike.”
Hisdarkbrowsknitinadispleasedfrown.“Itlookslikeyou’retakingashowerinfrontofyourgirlfriend.Inmylockerroom.”
“Okay,thenyeah,it’swhatitlookslike.ButIpromise,it’sallveryPG.Well,exceptforthefactthatI’mnaked.Butdon’tworry,nokinkyshitisgoingtohappen.”Igrinathim.“I’mtryingtowinherback.”
Coach’smouthopens,thencloses,thenopensagain.Ican’ttellifhe’samusedorpissedorreadytowashhishandsofthiswholething.Finally,henodsandoptsforoptionnumberthree.“Carryon.”
Coachshakeshisheadtohimselfasheamblesoff,andIturnbacktoHannahintimetoseehertryingtosneakaway.
“Oh,hellno,”Iannounce.“Noway,Wellsy.”IsnatchmytowelandwrapitaroundmywaistasIstumbleoutofthestall.“You’renotrunningoffonme.”
“Icameheretoyellatyou,”shestammers,hergazedippingtoherfeet.“AndnowI’mdoneyellingatyou,so…”
Sheyelpswhenmywethandscuphercheekstoforcehertolookatme.“Great,you’redoneyelling.NowIwantyoutotalktome,andyou’renotleavinguntilyoudo.”
“Idon’twanttotalk.”
“Toughcookies.”Isearchheragonizedexpression.“Whydidyoubreakupwithme?”
“Ialreadytoldyou—”
“Iknowwhatyoutoldme.Ididn’tbelieveyouthenandIdon’tbelieveyounow.”Isetmyjaw.“Whydidyoubreakupwithme?”
Ashakybreathleaveshermouth.“Becauseweweremovingtoofast.”
“Bullshit.Whydidyoubreakupwithme?”
“BecauseIwantedtoseeotherpeople.”
“Tryagain.Whydidyoubreakupwithme?”
Whenshedoesn’tanswer,frustrationblaststhroughme,andIreactbycrashingmymouthdownonhers.Ikissherroughly,desperately,thedaysandweeksofmissinghercatchinguptomeandpouringoutintheformofdeep,hungrykissesthatleaveusbothbreathless.Shedoesn’tpullaway.Shejustkissesmebackwiththesameuncheckedpassion,herhandsclingingtomywetshoulderslikeshe’slostatseaandI’mherlifepreserver.
That’showIknowshestilllovesme.That’showIknowshemissedmeasmuchasImissedher.Andthat’swhyIwrenchmymouthawayandwhisper,“Whydidyoubreakupwithme?”
Heranguishedgazelockswithmine.Herbottomlipquivers,andasseveralsecondstickby,Iwonderifshe’sgoingtoanswerme.Iwonderif—
“Becauseyourfathertoldmeto.”
Theshockalmostknocksmeoffmyfeet.Asmyequilibriumturnsintoaseesaw,Idropmyhandstomysidesandstareather,unabletocomprehendwhatIjustheard.
Iswallow.ThenIswallowagain.“What?”
“Yourfathertoldmetoendit,”sheadmits.“HesaidthatifIdidn’t,he’d—”
Iholdupmyhandtosilenceher.I’mtoostunnedtolisten.Tooenragedtomove.Iforcemyselftobreathe.Long,calmingbreathsthathelpsteadymywonkybalanceandclearmyfoggyhead.ThenIexhaleinaslowrushandrunahandthroughmydamphair.
“Here’swhat’sgoingtohappen,”Isayquietly.“You’regoingtowaitoutsideformewhileIgetdressed,andthenyouandIaregoingto—Idon’tcarewherewego.Yourdorm,mycar,anywhere.We’regoingtogosomewhere,andyou’regoingtotellmeeverywordthatsonofabitchsaidtoyou.”Itakeanotherbreath.“You’regoingtotellmeeverything.”
HANNAH
Garrettdoesn’tsayawordasIrecounteverythingthathappenedbetweenhisfatherandme.We’reinmyroombecausethearenaisclosertothedormsthanitistoGarrett’shouse,andhewasintoomuchofahurrytohavethisconversation.Butallhe’sdonesofarisloomovermewithhisarmscrossedandhisbrowfurrowed,listeningintentlyasmyconfessionspillsoutofmymouthlikeconfetti.
Ican’tstoptalking.Irecitehisdad’sthreatsverbatim.IexplainwhyIwentalongwiththem.IbeghimtounderstandthatIdiditbecauseIlovehimandwanthimtobesuccessful.
Andthroughitall,Garrettsaysnothing.Hedoesn’tevenblink.
“Willyoupleasesaysomething?”ImumblewhenI’vefinishedtalkingandhestillhasn’tsaidaword.
Hisgrayeyesfixonmyface.Ican’ttellifhe’sangryorannoyed,ifhe’sdisappointedorupset.Allthoseemotionswouldmakesensetome
ButtheresponseIget?
Makesnosenseatall.
Garrettstartstolaugh.Deep,huskyrumblesthatbringafrowntomylips.Hisbrowrelaxesandhisarmsfalltohissidesashesinksdownonthebedbesideme,hisbroadshoulderstremblingwithmirth.
“Youthinkthisisfunny?”Idemand,genuinelyoffended.I’vebeenatotalmiseryzombiethispastmonth,andhefindsitamusing?
“No,Ithinkit’sadamnshame,”hesaysbetweenchuckles.
“What’sashame?”
“This.”Hegesturesbetweenus.“Youandme.Thewholefuckingmonthwemissedouton.”Heletsoutaheavysigh.“Whydidn’tyoujusttellme?”
Mythroatclosesup.“BecauseIknewwhatyouwouldsay.”
Anotherchucklepopsoutofhismouth.“Ihighlydoubtthat,butokay,humorme.WhatwouldIhavesaid?”
Idon’tunderstandhisweird-assreaction,andit’smakingmeuneasy.“Youwouldhavetoldmethatyoudidn’tcareifyourfathercutyouoff,becauseyou’renotgoingtolethimcontrolyou,orus.”
Garrettnods.“Yup,you’reontracksofar.Whatelse?”
“Thenyouwouldhavesaidyoucareaboutmemorethanyoucareabouthisstupidmoney.”
“Yup.”
“Andyouwouldhavelethimcutyouoff.”
“Rightagain.”
Mystomachlurches.“Hesaidyouaren’teligibleforfinancialaid,andthatyouwouldn’tbeabletogetabankloan.”
Garrettnodsagain.“Bothtrue.”
“Youwouldhavehadtocleanoutyoursavingsaccounttopayfornextterm’stuition,and…andthenwhat?Webothknowyoucan’taffordrentandexpensesandcarpaymentswhenyou’renotworking,sothatmeansyouwouldneedtogetajoband—”
“I’mgonnastopyouthere,baby.”Thesmilehegivesmeisinfinitelytender.“So…let’sbackup.Iletmyfathercutmeoff.AskmewhatIwould’vesaidnext.”
Ibitetheinsideofmycheek.Alittletoohard,soIsoothethestingwithmytongue.“What?”
Garrettleanscloserandsweepshisfingertipsovermycheek.“Iwould’vesaid,Don’tworry,babe,I’mturningtwenty-oneinafewweeks,andmygrandparentsleftmeatrustfundthatIcanaccessonJanuary2nd.”
Isuckinashockedbreath.“Wait—what?”
Helightlypinchesmybottomlip,shakinghisheadinfrustration.“Mygrandparentsleftmeaninheritance,Hannah.Mydaddidn’tknowaboutitbecausemymomsignedallthepapersbehindhisback.GranandGrampshatedtheoldbastard—theyreallyfuckinghatedhim—andtheysawhowcontrollinghewaswhenitcametomeandhockey.Theywereafraidhemighttrytoaccessthetrustanddowhateverhewantedwiththefunds,sotheymadesureIwastakencareof.Theyleftmeenoughmoneytopaymyfatherbackforeverythinghe’severpaidfor.Enoughtopayfortherestofmyeducation,andallmyexpenses,andprobablyenoughtosustainmeforafewyearsonceIgraduate.”
Mymindreels.I’mhavingtroubleprocessingtheinformation.“Really?”
“Really,”heconfirms.
Asthesignificanceofwhathe’sjusttoldmesinksin,Iexperienceafloodofpurehorror.SweetbabyJesus.IshetellingmeIbrokeupwithhimfornoreason?
Garrettseesmyexpressionandchuckles.“Ibetyoufeelprettystupid,huh?”
Mymouthfallsopen,butIcan’tformulateanywords.Ican’tbelieve…I’mso…God,he’sright.I’msofuckingstupid.
“Iwastryingtodotherightthing.”Imoanmiserably.“Iknowhowimportanthockeyistoyou.Ididn’twantyoutolosethat.”
Hesighsagain.“Iknow,andtrustme,that’stheonlyreasonI’mnotpissedoffatyourightnow.Imean,I’mannoyedtoshitthatyoudidn’tjusttalktomeaboutit,butIunderstandwhyyoudidn’t.”Hiseyesflash.“Thatassholehadnorighttodothat.Iswear,I’mgoingto—”Hestopsandpuffsoutabreath.“Actually,I’mgoingtodoabsolutelynothing.Notworthmytimeandenergy,remember?”
“Doesheknowaboutthetrustfundnow?”
Atriumphantgleamentershiseyes.“Oh,heknows.Mygrandparents’executorcourieredhimacheckyesterday.IestimatedwhatIowedhimandthrewsomeextracashontopofit,andhecalledlastnightandyelledatmeforabouttwentyminutesbeforeIhunguponhim.”Garrett’stonegoesserious.“Oh,andthere’ssomethingelseyoushouldknow—Cindydumpedhisass.”
Shockandreliefwarinsideme.“Really?”
“Yup.ApparentlyshepackedherbagsaweekafterThanksgivingandneverlookedback.Thatwasanotherreasonhewassopissedoffonthephone.Hethinkswesaidsomethingtomakeherleave.”Garrett’scheekshollowinanger.“Sonofabitchstillcan’ttakeresponsibilityforanythinghedoes.Hecan’tfathomhowitmightbehisfaultthatsheleft.”
Myheadcontinuestospin.I’mhappyCindyextricatedherselffromthatabusiverelationship,butI’mnothappyaboutthemonthGarrettandIwereapart.I’mnothappythatIallowedPhilGrahamtoscaremeintogivinguptheguyIlove.
“I’msorry,”Isaysoftly.“I’msosorry,Garrett.Foreverything.”
Hereachesformyhand.“Yeah,metoo.”
“Don’tyoudareapologize.Youhavenothingtobesorryabout.I’mtheonewhotriedtobeallheroicandbrokeupwithyouforyourowngood.”Igroan.“God,Ican’tevenbeselflesswithoutscrewingitup.”
Hesnickers.“It’sokay.Atleastyou’rehot.Anddon’tgetmestartedonyourstrippertits.”
Isqueakwhenhesuddenlycupsmybreastsovermysweaterandgivesthemaheartysqueeze.
Hemakesacontentedlittlenoiseasherubshispalmsovermyquicklyhardeningnipples.“Oh,I’vemissedthese.Youdon’tknowhowfuckingmuch.”
Alaughfliesout.“Seriously?You’regoingstraighttosecondbasewhenwehaven’tevenofficiallygottenbacktogether?”
Hislipslatchontomyneck,andhistonguedartsoutforateasinglick.“AsfarasI’mconcerned,wewereneverbrokenup.”Thenhenibblesonmyearlobe,elicitingaflurryofshivers.“SothewayIseeit,wecouldhugandkissandcry,whichwilltakeabout,what,twentyminutes?AndthentwentymoreminuteswhereIforgiveyouandyouvowyourundyinglovetome.Maybetenminutesofyougivingmeheadtomakeupforallthetimewe’velost—”
Ipunchhiminthearm.
“Butwhat’sthepointofwastingmoretimewhenwecangetrighttothegoodpart?”
Mylipsquiverinamusement.“Andwhatexactlyisthegoodpart?”
BeforeIcanblink,I’monmybackwiththedeliciouslyheavyweightofGarrett’sbodyontopofme.Heflasheshistrademarkgrin,thatsexycrookedsmilethatneverfailstomakemyheartpound,andthenhismouthcoversmineinahungrykiss.
“This—”Hesucksonmylowerlipandrotateshishipsseductively“—isthegoodpart.”
Iwrapmyarmsaroundhimandholdhimtightagainstme,andit’ssofamiliar,sowonderfullyperfect,thattheloveinmyheartoverflowsandstingsmyeyes.“Iloveyou,Garrett,”Ichokeout.
Hishuskyvoiceticklesmylips.“Iloveyou,Hannah.”
Thenhekissesme,andeverythinginmyworldisrightagain.45
HANNAH
March
“Whyisyourex-crushinmylivingroom?”Garrettdropsthewhisperedaccusationinmyearashecomesupbesideme.
MygazeshiftstoJustin,whoisonthecouchplayingacomplicated-lookingshootingvideogamewithTucker.ThenIturnbacktoGarrett,wholooksmoreamusedthanpissed.“Becausehe’smyfriend,andIinvitedhim.Dealwithit.”
“Youdon’tthinkit’skindofadickmovetoinvitehim?Imean,thefootballteamdidshitallthisseason,andnowhehastocomecelebratewiththehockeycrowdformakingittothesemi-finals?Andhehastobearoundtheperfectspecimenofmanhoodwhostoleyouaway?”Garrett’sgrayeyestwinkle.“You’reaterribleperson.”
“Oh,shutit.He’shappythatyouguysaregoingtotheFrozenFour.”Ibringmylipsclosetohisear.“Anddon’ttellanyonethisorI’llkillyou,buthe’sbeenhookingupwithStellathispastmonth.”
“Forreal?”Garrett’sjawdropsasheglancesacrosstheroom,whereStella,Dex,andAllieareinthemiddleofananimatedconversationwithLoganandSimms.It’sstillkindofbizarreseeingmyfriendsinteractingwithGarrett’sfriends,butwe’veallhungoutdozensoftimesoverthepastthreemonths,soI’mstartingtogetusedtoit
FromhisspotnexttoDex,Logansensesmewatchingthemandliftshishead,and…well,that’ssomethingIhaven’tgottenusedto.Thelookhegivesmeburnswithunmistakablelonging,andit’snotthefirsttimehe’slookedatmelikethat.WhenIbroughtituptoGarrett—justonce,inthemostawkwardconversationever—hesimplysighedandsaid,“He’llgetoverit.”NoangeronGarrett’spart,noresentment,justthatonemeaslysentence,whichhasn’tdonemuchtosoothemyworries.
Idon’tliketheideathatGarrett’sbestfriendmighthavefeelingsforme,butLoganhasn’ttriedtomakeamoveonme,andhesureashellhasn’ttalkedtomeaboutit,sothat’sarelief,Iguess.ButIreallydohopehegetsoverwhateverhe’sfeeling,becauseasmuchasIliketheguy,I’mtotallyandunequivocallyinlovewithhisbestfriend,andthat’snevergoingtochange.
Thissemesterhasbeenabusyoneforus.I’myetagainrehearsing,thistimeforthespringshowcase,andthistimeitisaduet—withDexter,andthetwoofusarehavingablastworkingtogether.Garrettandtheteamhavebeenkillingitinthepostseason.Thechampionshipisnextweek,andthevenueforitjusthappenstobetheWellsFargoCenter,homeofthePhiladelphiaFlyers,whichmeansthat,yep,I’mgoingtobewatchingthefinalgamelive,andstayingatAuntNicole’sforthethreedaystheteamisinPhilly.
There’snodoubtinmymindthattheteamwillcrushit.Garrettandtheguyshaveworkedhardthisseason,andiftheydon’twinthisfinalgame,I’lleatmyhat.Eitherthat,orgivemymanlotsandlotsofconsolationsex.Suchachore.
“Lookwhatthecatdraggedin,”Garrettsayssuddenly,andIturnaroundtoseeBirdieandNatalieappearinthedoorwaywhereGarrettandIarelurking.
Theirfacesareflushedandtheirexpressionsaresecretive,leavingnodoubtastowhythey’relatefortheparty.IgiveNatahugofgreeting,thensmileatBirdie,whorespondstoGarrett’stauntwithadefensivelook.
“Hey,IalreadytoldyouI’magainstthisparty.It’sbadlucktocelebratebeforeyou’veevenwon.”
“Naah,we’vegotthisinthebag,man.”Garrettgrinsandleansintosmackakissonmycheek.“Besides,I’vealreadywonthemostimportantprizeofall.”
I’mprettysuremycheeksturnintoapairoftomatoes.
Nataliegroansgood-naturedly,butBirdie,tomysurprise,justnodsinapproval
“See,”Garrettinformsusasheslingsanarmaroundmyshoulder,“I’mallowedtosaystufflikethattoBirdiebecauseIknowhewon’tmakefunofme.”
“Well,heshould,”Igrumble,“becausethatlinewascheesyashell.”
“Oh,shutit,”hemimics.“YoulikeitwhenI’mromantic.”
Yep.Ireallydo.
BirdieandNatwanderofftosayhitoeveryone,butGarrettandIstayinourlittlecorner.Hetugsmetowardhimandkissesme,andeventhoughI’manti-PDA,it’simpossibletothinkaboutsocialetiquettewhenGarrettGrahamiskissingme.
Hislipsarewarmandfirm,histonguehotandwetasheslidesitintomymouthforafleetingtaste.Ipartmylipseagerly,wantingmore,buthechucklesandtweaksastrandofmyhair.
“Stopbeinginappropriate,Hannah.We’reinpublic.”
“Ha.LikeIcan’tseeyourboner.”
Hisgazedropstohiscrotch,andhesighswhenhenoticesthebulgestrainingagainsthisjeans.“Forfuck’ssake,Wellsy,yougetmehardwithoutmeevennoticing.”Hefrowns.“Damnit,nowI’mgonnahavetoleavemyownpartysowecangoupstairsandtakecareofthis.Thanksalot.”
Isnort.“Dreamon.There’snowayI’mdoingthewalkofshameafterwardinfrontofallourfriends.”
Hisfacecollapses.“You’reashamedofme?”
“Don’tgivemethatlittleboytrickery.”Ipokehiminthechest.“Itdoesn’tworkonmeanymore.”
“Littleboy?”heechoes.Awickedsmilecurveshismouthasheangleshisbodysothathe’sfacingawayfromtheroom.Thenhetakesmyhandandplantsitdirectlyoverhishard-on.“Doesthisfeellittleorboyishtoyou?”
Shiversflyupmyspine.Ohno.NowI’mturnedon.
Asmyheartpoundsandmybodytingles,Iletoutanannoyedgroanandgrabhishand.“Fine.Let’sgoupstairs.”
“Nope.Ichangedmymindaboutthat.We’regoingtostaydownhereandenjoytheparty.”
Idrophishandlikeahotpotatoandscowldeeply.“You’resuchavagina-tease.”
Garrettlaughs.“Yeah,butyoustillloveme.”
Tinybutterfliesofhappinesstakeflightinmystomachanddancearoundmyheart.Itakehishandagainandlaceourfingerstogether.“Yeah,”Imurmurwithasmile.“Istillloveyou.”Epilogue
GARRETT
Myfatherwaitsoutsidethearenawhentheteamburstsoutthebackdoors.Deanhadsomehowgottenhishandsonanold-schoolboombox,andhehasitproppeduponhisshoulderasQueen’s“WeAretheChampions”blastsoutofthespeakers.There’snobodyaroundtohearthevictorysongbutus,andthefamilyandfriendswhomadeitouttoPhillytowatchusplay.Applausebreaksoutaswestrolluplikethechampionsweare,andseveralofmyboneheadteammatestakeexaggeratedbowsbeforeheadingovertosayhellotothepeoplewhocameouttoseeus.
Ifuckingdidit.Imean,itwasateameffort—no,ateamdomination,becauseforthefirsttimeinyears,theFrozenFourchampionshipgamewasashutout.Simmsdidn’tletouropponentsscore.Notevenonce.Anditseemsfittingthatthethreelamplightersonoursidecamefromme,Tuck,andBirdie,respectively.
I’mproudofmyteam.I’mproudofmyselfforleadingushere.It’stheperfectendtotheperfectseason,anditgetsalittlemoreperfectwhenHannahrushesoverandhurlsherselfintomyarms.
“OhmyGod!Thatwasthebestgameever!”shedeclaresbeforekissingmesohardmylipsfeelbruised.
Igrinatherenthusiasm.“Didyoulikethelittlegun-fingerIflashedyouafterthatgoal?Allforyou,baby.”
Shegrinsback.“Sorrytoburstyourbubble,butyouwereactuallypointingattheoldguyafewseatsover.Hetotallyfreakedoutandstartedshoutingtoeveryonethatyouscoredthatgoalforhim,andthenIheardhimaskhiswifeifmaybeyouknewthathewasjustdiagnosedwithdiabetes,soIdidn’thavethehearttotellhimwhothegoalwasreallyfor.”
Ibreakdowninlaughter.“Whyisnothingeversimplewithus?”
“Hey,”sheprotests.“We’remoreinterestingthisway.”
Ican’targuewiththat.
Fromthecornerofmyeye,Iseemyfatherlurkingnearthebus,butIdon’tmakeeyecontactwithhim.Infact,Inoticethatnobodyislookingathim.Notme,notHannah,notanyofmyteammates.Afewmonthsago,Itoldtheguysthetruthaboutmydad,becausetheconversationIhadwithHannahaboutlifenotbeingfairandmyfatherstillbeingreveredhadstuckwithme.SoaftertheNewYear,whenoneofoursophomoreD-menaskedmeifIcouldgethimaPhilGrahamautograph,Icouldnolongerholditin.Isattheboysdown—evenCoachwasthere—andtoldthemeverything.
Needlesstosay,itwasdamnuncomfortableandprettyfuckingintense,butwhenallwassaidanddone,myteammatesprovedtomethatI’mnotjusttheircaptain,buttheirbrother.Andnow,asweallheadforthebus,notasinglepairofeyestravelsinmysuperstarfather’sdirection.
“I’llseeyoubackatcampus?”IsaytoHannah.
Shenods.“Yep.UncleMarkisdrivingmebacknow,soIshouldbetherearoundthesametimeyouguysgetin.”
“Callmewhenyou’rehome.Loveyou,babe.”
“Loveyou,too.”
Iplantonelastkissonherlips,thenclimbontothebusandsettleinmyusualseatnexttoLogan.Asthedoorshutsandthedriverpullsaway,Idon’tglanceoutthewindowtolookatthetall,surlymanwho’sstillstandingintheparkinglot.
Idon’tlookbackthesedays.
Ionlylookforward
THEEND
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OtherTitlesbyElleKennedy
IfyouenjoyedGarrett’sstory,makesuretocheckouttheothertitlesintheOff-Campusseries:
TheDeal(Garrett’sbook)
TheMistake(Logan’sbook)
TheScore(Dean’sbook)
TheGoal(Tucker’sbook)
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Readtheentireseriestoday!
TheChase(SummerandFitz’sbook)
TheRisk(BrennaandJake’sbook)
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TheDare(ConorandTaylor’sbook)
**Don’tmissoutontheextendedbonusepilogueofThePlay!
Forotherretailerlinksandinformationaboutprintoraudioversionsofthesetitles,visittheseriespagesonmywebsite.
Anddon’tforgettosignupformynewslettertoreceiveupdatesandexclusiveexcerptswhentheybecomeavailable.
Forallthem/mfansoutthere,checkoutHIMandUS,myNewAdulthockeyromancesco-writtenwiththefabulousSarinaBowen
Ifyou’reinterestedinmyeroticromanceand/orromanticsuspensetitles,checkoutthesebestsellingseries:
KillerInstincts
Outlaws
OutofUniform
AfterHours
MoretitlesalsoavailableonmywebsiteAuthor’sNote
Ilovedeverysecondofwritingthisbook,butjustlikewitheveryprojectIundertake,Icouldn’thavedoneitwithoutthehelpofsomeprettyamazingpeople:
Jen,forbetareadingthissecret,just-for-funproject,convincingmetoshareitwithotherreaders,andthenholdingmyhandduringmyveryfirstself-publishingendeavor.
Viv,forsteppingoutofhercomfortzoneandreadingaNewAdultbook!Andforjustbeingplainawesome.
KristenCallihan,forherinvaluableadviceandendlesscheerleadingforthisproject.
GwenHayes,thesweetest,smartestandfunniesteditorI’veeverworkedwith.
SharonMuha,forhereagleeyes(andfornotcomplainingeverytimeIsendheragazillionpagemanuscriptandaskforaproofreadingrushjob).
NinaBocci,mypublicistAKAlifesaver,forlovingthisbookasmuchasIdoandmakingsureeverybodyheardaboutit!
Andtoeveryonewhoread/loved/reviewed/talkedaboutthebook—youguysrock.Yourockhard.AbouttheAuthor
ANewYorkTimes,USATodayandWallStreetJournalbestsellingauthor,ElleKennedygrewupinthesuburbsofToronto,Ontario,andholdsaBAinEnglishfromYorkUniversity.Fromanearlyage,sheknewshewantedtobeawriterandactivelybeganpursuingthatdreamwhenshewasateenager.Shelovesstrongheroinesandsexyalphaheroes,andjustenoughheatanddangertokeepthingsinteresting!
Ellelovestohearfromherreaders.Visitherwebsitewww.ellekennedy.comorsignupforhernewslettertoreceiveupdatesaboutupcomingbooksandexclusiveexcerpts.YoucanalsofindheronFacebook(ElleKennedyAuthor),Twitter(@ElleKennedy),Instagram(@ElleKennedy33),orTikTok(@ElleKennedyAuthor).Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetopersons,livingordead,businessestablishments,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.
TheDeal:AnOff-CampusNovel
Copyright?2015,2021byElleKennedy
EditedbyGwenHayes
ProofedbySharonMuha
CoverArt?MeljeanBrook
Originallypublishedin2015.Thisisanupdated,editedversion.
Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthisbookmayreproduced,scannedordistributedinanymannerwhatsoeverwithoutwrittenpermissionfromtheauthorexceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsembodiedinarticlesorreviews.

The Deal

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