This Book Will Change Your Life

by Amanda Weaver

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hannah

  My dad lingers forever when he’s dropping me off at the dorm Sunday afternoon. Thanksgiving break was rough. Not Dad— Dad’s always great. The hard part was keeping up this front that everything is fine.

  There’s a chance that things are still fine. A slim one. Right now, I’m failing chem. Failing. Technically, if I ace the final, I can pull out a passing grade, but I haven’t aced anything so far, so I’m not holding my breath.

  All that hard work and potential and I’m falling apart. Even if I manage to pass the class, I’ll be out of the Honors Program. And the worst thing is the possibility of leaving the program doesn’t upset me like it should. If anything, it’d be a relief. The choice I’m terrified to make would make itself.

  For the whole long weekend, I tried to tell Dad, but the words lodged in my throat. So I didn’t tell him, and now I’m back at school, still pretending everything is okay.

  Is this what it’s like for Ben? At least my dad isn’t an asshole about it, which kind of makes me feel even worse. If he were mean, it’d be so much easier to forget about how disappointed he’ll be in me. Hey, Dad, remember all that work and all those years you poured into me, preparing me for my amazing future as a scientist? Never mind.

  Ugh. My heart hurts just imagining that conversation.

  I’m desperate for Dad to leave so I can escape this guilt and anxiety and so I can see Ben. Maybe I’m being irresponsible, running to Ben so I don’t have to deal with this big, unpleasant reality, but I don’t care. Ever since he called me on Thanksgiving, I’ve been practically crawling out of my skin waiting to see him again.

  “Did you get everything out of the trunk?” Dad runs a hand through his hair, which he’s always worn a little long and shaggy, both for a chemist and a dad.

  “Yeah, Dad.”

  “And the backseat?”

  “Yep.”

  “Your coat, too? It was back there—”

  “Dad. I got it.”

  He gives me a sheepish smile. “You’re ready for me to clear out now, aren’t you?”

  “No! It’s not that. I just kinda want to go see my friends.”

  “Friends? Any particular friend? Maybe the friend you’ve been electronically connected to all weekend?” He’s teasing me. There’s a smile dancing around the corners of his mouth.

  I roll my eyes. “Maybe.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m going.” He pats his pockets for his keys and turns slowly in a circle, looking for anything he might be forgetting. My dad is brilliant but so absent-minded he’s practically a hazard to himself. Without Mom, I had to step up early to keep the two of us and our house on track. I worry about him sometimes, now that I’ve left for college.

  He finds his keys, a flicker of triumph crossing his face, and then he turns serious. “Be safe, okay? Call me if you need anything.”

  My smile fades as heat crawls up the back of my neck. “I will. Don’t worry.”

  “A parent’s default setting is worry, Hannah. But I trust you. I know you’ll be just fine.”

  I have to tell him. And I will, just not today, not when Ben is here, a few blocks away. We hug again, he kisses the top of my head, presses a twenty into my hand, and then he’s gone.

  And so am I. The door barely clicks behind him before I tear through my room, brush my hair, slick on a little pink lipstick and a bit of mascara, and chomp on a breath mint—just in case.

  Oh please let there be an in case…

  I shrug back into my coat and fly out of my dorm. Ben said he’d come over after he gets off work, but that’s still four hours away, and I’m going to go out of my mind waiting until then. We texted all weekend, but now I need more than words. I need him.

  Coming into Prometheus feels like coming home. It’s warm and smells of dust and old paper. It’s a scent I associate viscerally with Ben— When I inhale deeply, my body tingles.

  I find Ben behind the register, squinting at his computer screen, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his face bathed in blue light. This weekend and all the things he said still feel like a dream. I’m half expecting him to look up and smile at me like a friend—make out session forgotten—before picking out another book for me to read.

  But when Ben looks up, the smile that explodes across his face reassures me that everything he said this weekend was real. He’s not looking at me like a friend.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey. When did you get back?”

  “Just now.”

  He grins and slides from behind the register. I cross the front of the store, and we stop awkwardly, a foot apart. What should we do? Where should we touch? Can we even do anything here, in the middle of the store?

  “Is Adele here?” I whisper.

  “Upstairs, organizing the kids’ books,” he whispers back.

  “Oh.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

  He shouts back over his shoulder and in the general direction of the upstairs loft. “I’ll be in the back, Adele. Keep an eye on the register?”

  “Okay.” Her voice floats down, faint and far away. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

  And here we thought we were going to get away with it.

  Ben chuckles and grabs my hand before pulling me to the back of the store, down the aisle with ethics and philosophy. Nobody ever comes down this aisle. He stops and faces me, just inches away. It’s kind of dim back here, since there’s been a bulb burned out for ages and no one’s bothered to replace it.

  “Hey,” Ben says again, but this time his voice is different. Low and private. He takes my other hand in his and laces our fingers together, palm-to-palm.

  Something ignites in me, and I take a step closer. “Hey,” I whisper.

  “I missed you,” he says. It makes my heart light up like a candle.

  “I missed you, too.”

  “Hannah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you want to go out sometime?”

  And it’s so ridiculous that he’s asking me out on a date after everything—all the time we’ve spent together, the phone call this weekend, everything he said, and the intense make out session we already had. I giggle. “Really? A date?”

  “Hey,” he protests. “I’m trying to do this right. You have a better idea?”

  I release his fingers and wrap my hands around his wrists. God, I love his wrists. Then I slide my hands up his arms to his surprisingly solid shoulders. His hoodie, my favorite worn navy blue one, is soft under my fingers, and he smells so good, like hot chocolate and old books, which has to be the best smell to ever exist. “How about you just kiss me?”

  He cradles my face in his hands. “That works, too, I guess.”

  His lips touch mine, a soft, gentle exploration. He’s kissing me like this is our first kiss. Because it should have happened just like this, in this dark aisle in this magic bookstore, with this boy I’m pretty sure I’m already in love with.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ben

  After Hannah leaves, the rest of the day drags by. It seems like forever before I close up the store and head to campus to meet her. My stomach churns with excitement and nerves. My hands are clammy, and my heart races every time I think of seeing her again. Our phone call on Thanksgiving and the texting for the rest of the weekend was great, but it almost didn’t feel real. Then she showed up in the store like a miracle, and I touched her. I kissed her. And it’s real and even better than I imagined.

  A girl walks out as I reach Hannah’s residential building, and she holds the door for me. In front of Hannah’s dorm, I rub my palms down my jeans, because I’m sweating, despite the cold. I knock, and within seconds, it flies open under my hand.

  It’s not Hannah or even Jasmine. It’s Sean, Jasmine’s Berlin Wall of a boyfriend. He’s huge in a way humans aren’t supposed to be. And he’s scowling at me like I’m something he just scraped off his shoe.

  “What do you want?”

/>   “Uh… Is Hannah here?”

  Sean glares. “What do you want with her? You gonna lead her on and ditch her again?”

  “What? No. That’s not—”

  “Hold on, hold on.” Jasmine inserts herself between Sean and me, laying a hand on his chest. “It’s cool. I didn’t get a chance to tell you yet, but it’s all sorted out. Ben and Hannah are cool.”

  Sean grunts, and I’m not sure what it means. It doesn’t sound like he believes it, or if he does, he isn’t very pleased about it. He still looks ready to snap me in half.

  “You make her cry again and you’ll be sorry.”

  I wince. “I promise I won’t do that again.”

  “We’ll see,” he mutters.

  “Sean!” Jasmine pushes on his massive chest, backing him into their room. “Relax, okay?”

  “Hey, you’re here!” I start at Hannah’s voice beside me. She’s carrying an armload of mail. “Sorry, just checking the mailbox.”

  “You ready to go?” Because I’m more than ready to get out of Sean’s glowering, Hulk-like presence.

  “Sure, just let me dump this and grab my coat.” She slips past me into her room. I stay out in the hall, where it seems safer. A minute later, she’s back, bundled up in a red wool coat with a cream knit beanie on. She looks soft and touchable and really, really cute. I gently tug on a lock of hair. She smiles. “Ready?”

  I exhale and cast one last look into her room. “Absolutely.”

  “Bye, Jasmine. Sean,” Hannah calls over her shoulder.

  “Have fun!”

  “I’m watching you, Bookstore Boy!” Sean shouts as we turn to go.

  I frown. “Bookstore Boy?”

  “Forget it,” Hannah mutters, stabbing at the elevator button.

  “Is that me?” I grin. “Is that what you call me behind my back?”

  The elevator doors open and she sighs. “Shut up. What was that about with Sean?”

  “Oh, nothing.” We step out of the elevator and start down the hall. “Sean’s just letting me know that he’ll end me if I screw this up.”

  Hannah rolls her eyes and laughs. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  I hold the door open and usher her outside. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure I had that coming. And I’m really sorry for hurting you like that, Hannah.”

  She shrugs. “It’s not your fault. You just didn’t see me the way I saw you.”

  I shake my head and reach for her hand, then twine our fingers together. “I’m an idiot. Things were happening between us, and I was just too blind and deluded to admit it. You were right to call me out on it.”

  Hannah hesitates. “So what happened with Alex?” She clears her throat awkwardly, then adds, “Because you’ve liked her a long time, and you seemed pretty sure—”

  “I wasn’t. Not really. She seemed like the right choice, but when I met you, I figured out what ‘right’ really feels like. And it wasn’t the same thing at all.”

  She ducks her chin and smiles, blushing slightly. “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner. I was confused. Conflicted. Whatever. Anyway, I was a total dick to you about her, and I’m really sorry.”

  “Maybe a little.” She smiles. “I was really mad at you that night of the party.”

  I close my eyes and groan. “As you should have been. Frankly, I’m kinda mad at myself.”

  She smirks and nudges my shoulder with hers. “Good. Then you can kick your own ass and save me the trouble.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Deal. For what it’s worth, there’s nobody in my head but you now.”

  She smiles, and her whole face lights up. “Then I guess that’s all that matters, right?”

  “You and me.” And right now, that’s everything. All the bullshit I left behind at home fades away because I’ve got Hannah, and she’s giving me a chance to do this right.

  We cross the bridge over the Tenumbrah River and enter downtown Arlington. Over the weekend, they put up the Christmas decorations. Strings of tiny white lights crisscross over Main Street, and the street lamps are wrapped in evergreen branches. Vendors have set up stalls all along the street, selling candles and jewelry and a bunch of other Christmas gift stuff.

  Hannah gasps when she sees it. “It’s so pretty.”

  “Yeah, they set up out here every year. I forgot this is your first year.” She tips her head back to look at the lights overhead. They play off her pale skin and make her eyes sparkle. My stomach flips and my heart pounds. How did I ignore what I felt about her for so long?

  “Hey, Hannah?”

  She turns to look at me, eyes still shining. I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger on her neck. “I like you.”

  That blush I love so much makes an appearance. She laughs softly. “I like you, too.”

  I step forward until our toes are touching and turn her hand over, until we’re palm to palm. “No, I really like you. Actually, I’m pretty crazy about you.”

  “Well, you already know I’m crazy about you. I was shamelessly transparent about it.”

  “I’m glad you were. If you hadn’t told me how you felt, I might have missed this. Thanks for being so brave.”

  She frowns and shakes her head. “I’m not brave.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re the bravest person I know.”

  “So are you.”

  I snort. “Me? Why?”

  “It takes guts to stand up to your family. You’re following your own path even though they don’t approve.”

  I swallow thickly and look at our joined hands. Right. That. Technically, I never said I’d stood up to them, but it feels like lying. Still, nothing’s settled yet. I’ll figure something out and never have to tell Hannah about the stupid law school application smoldering on my laptop, demanding a decision.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I start walking again. “So, what are you hungry for?”

  If Hannah caught that obvious subject change, she doesn’t say so. She falls into step beside me and leans onto my shoulder. It’s a perfect night, clear and cold, with the twinkling net of lights overhead and Hannah holding my hand. I want to stop time and live in this moment. The future can stay out there, unlived as far as I’m concerned, because this right here is all I want or need.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hannah

  “Your roommate is really dating Sean Jackson?” Dad asks yet again. It’s the beginning of winter break. Dad has come to pick me up. Jasmine and Sean left five minutes ago to drive back to Akron, but Dad is still starstruck.

  “Yep, since the tenth grade.”

  “I just wasn’t expecting to meet a top NFL prospect in my daughter’s dorm room.”

  “Trust me, when he’s with Jasmine, he’s just Sean from Akron. I think that’s what he likes about her.”

  “She seems nice.”

  “She is. We’re good friends.” I’m going to miss Jasmine over break. And Ben. God, I don’t know how I’ll manage to go three weeks, even though he’s promised to drive to Cleveland at least once to visit. It’s not fair. We just got together at the end of Thanksgiving break, three short weeks ago, but we’ve barely seen each other. He’s been buried in the Christmas rush at work and two massive papers due for his classes. I’ve been studying non-stop for finals, trying to salvage my grades. So far, we’ve had all of one date, a lot of texts, a few quick cups of coffee between classes, and two make out sessions in the stacks at the library. I think I saw more of him when we were just friends.

  And now I’m leaving for break while he stays in Arlington to work. I can’t believe it, but I really, really don’t want to leave.

  Of course, that’s not only about Ben. I’m terrified to go home.

  Finals are over. My chem final went better than I expected, and there’s a tiny chance I passed the class. Not that it matters. I’ll be out of the Honors Program, and sooner or later, I’ll need to stop hiding behind my lies. I’m going to have to tell Dad, and imagining it makes
me nauseous. But the hardest thing to tell him will be this: I don’t care about the Honors Program anymore.

  I’m still toeing the line of expectations and reality. I signed up for half of the recommended chemistry curriculum next semester, the ones I could take even if I get booted from the Honors Program. But on a whim, I added Intro to American Lit and Contemporary Social Justice just because the descriptions in the catalogue sounded amazing. And last week I signed up to volunteer with the Arlington World Outreach Club because some guy handed me a flyer on campus and I got sucked in by the work they do for overseas aid organizations. This is probably not how I should be spending my free time when I’m failing my major.

  I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. My academic career is a mess, and I’m watching it roll toward the cliff without lifting a finger to stop it. I’m dancing around all these random classes that shouldn’t even be on my radar. I’m ignoring the thing I’m supposed to be passionate about because all I really want to do is read.

  Telling my dad would be so much easier if I was just shifting focus to another field in science. If I decided I wanted to go to medical school, or work as an immunologist at the CDC. Announcing that my major is going to be “undeclared” feels selfish and like a waste of all my potential.

  But I can’t stay on the path I started down when I came to Arlington— It feels wrong. I just don’t know how to find my way to what feels right.

  After securing my dirty laundry basket to the top of my rolling suitcase, Dad looks up and flashes me a warm smile. “Well, your first semester at college is successfully in the bag. Ready to indulge in some holiday merry-making?”

  I suppress a grimace. When I turn up with a D in Honors Chem, he won’t think this semester was so successful. “Sure,” I say, with a brightness I don’t feel.

  He smiles again, this time soft and wistful. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo. Your mom would be, too.”

  Oh, Jesus, if we don’t leave right now, I’m going to start crying. “Thanks, Dad. But we’d better hit the road or else traffic will be a nightmare.”

  If he notices my red, glassy eyes or the strain in my voice, he never says so.