Yeah right.
There wasn’t another chance to talk to Joel alone until practice was over. After the targets and the balls and the rest of the equipment was put away, I ran ahead to catch up with him before he could vanish into the changing room.
“Joel!” I called out but he acted like he didn’t hear me. “Joel, stop!”
He kept walking.
Was he being serious right now?
I sped up until I was just ahead of him and then I spun around and put my hand on his chest. He stopped, looked down at me.
“Jeez!” I said, bending over a little to catch my breath. “Didn’t you hear me?”
He shook his head to the left once. Not very convincing. “What’s up?”
“I just…” This was harder than I thought it would be and I was flustered. I pushed my sweaty hair back and tried to straighten my stance. “I wanted to know if you’re ignoring me?”
He looked above my head and shrugged.
“Is that a yes?” I asked.
He shrugged again and tried to walk around me but I refused to let him pass.
“But why?” I persisted.
“Because I have nothing else to say.”
I was shocked by the coldness in his voice. “W-what? What did I do?”
He placed his hands on my shoulders and moved me to the side so he could get past me.
“Joel, please,” I cried at his back. I didn’t care that the rest of the squash team was watching us. “This isn’t fair! You can’t just walk away from me like this.”
He stopped walking and haltingly turned around to face me. He crossed his arms and locked his yellow-green eyes onto mine. “I thought it was over between you and your boyfriend?”
Where was this coming from? “My boyfriend?”
He dropped his arms to his sides and shifted his weight in irritation. “Owen? Remember him?”
“Of course I do.”
“I thought you said it was over.” There was a distinctly jealous tone in his voice and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“It is over,” I answered matter-of-factly.
“Not according to Facebook.”
“You’re kidding, right? You can’t possibly care about Facebook,” I said in disbelief. “Neither one of us has gotten around to changing it yet, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It’s not just Facebook,” he scoffed. “There’s more.”
By this point, we’d definitely drawn an audience. I could see Tillie and Ruben standing near the front of the group and, briefly, I wondered what they were thinking, if they even cared that my whole life was falling apart.
“Like what?” I asked, taking a tentative step toward him. I felt like if I could reach out and touch him I could stop this from happening.
“Like on Friday.”
“What about Friday?”
His face crumpled. Now I could see real hurt there and I knew that I was the one who had caused it. “You seemed awfully eager to talk to him.”
“Because he was trying to help me with Caroline,” I explained carefully. “I had just told you that—”
“I heard the way you were on the phone with him,” he accused. “You can talk to him in a way that you can’t talk to me.”
“It’s not like that,” I defended. I didn’t even know what to say or how to tell Joel what was between Owen and me. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore. It’s just—before he was my boyfriend he was one of my best friends.”
Joel pounded his chest just over his heart. “And what am I?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I answered honestly.
“Really Hannah? You aren’t sure?”
I looked around for help but there was none to be found. “I’m just confused.”
“What is there to be confused about? I told you the truth. I told you that I’ve fallen for you,” he said softly. “Don’t you get that? Hannah, I think about you when I wake up in the morning and when I’m falling asleep at night, and almost every second in between. I want to be with you, but you have to choose me.” He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he said it again, this time like a plea. “Choose me.”
“It’s not that simple,” I shot back. “My life was perfect before I decided to come here. And now—and now everything is ruined and that’s my fault. Owen broke up with me. My brother isn’t speaking to me. My sister is still a stranger. My best friend hates me. And my writing is terrible and I’m probably going to fail out of Warriner.” I took a breath. “I came to London looking for inspiration, but I don’t want it anymore. I just want things to be easy. I want to go home!”
His eyes narrowed on my face. “So when things aren’t perfect, your solution is just to run home with your tail between your legs? Go back to your simple but boring life?” He shook his head. “Maybe I was wrong about you. The Hannah I think I want to be with is better than that.”
This time when he walked away from me, I didn’t try to stop him.
To: Cecilia
From: Hannah
Date: October 26
Subject: Home
Mom,
Things aren’t better. They’re worse.
Don’t be mad at me, but I don’t think I can stay here. London isn’t turning out like I expected and I want to come home. Please make it happen?
Love,
Your Lonely and Miserable Daughter
____________
To: Hannah
From: Cecilia
Date: October 27
Subject: Re: Home
Hannah,
I don’t know what to say. I thought this is what you wanted. You put so much work into getting into Warriner. Are you sure you want to back out now?
Mom
____________
To: Cecilia
From: Hannah
Date: October 28
Subject: Re: Re: Home
I know coming here was my idea. And I know I told you and Dad that it was what I wanted but I was wrong. I see that now.
____________
To: Hannah
From: Cecilia
Date: October 31
Subject: Happy Halloween
I hope you’re having a fun day, sweetie! Stay away from ghouls and ghosties!
Mom
____________
To: Cecilia
From: Hannah
Date: October 31
Subject: Re: Happy Halloween
Mom,
Are you trying to make me feel bad?? It’s not a happy Halloween. I’m sitting in my bedroom wishing I was anywhere but here. I wasn’t joking before. I want to leave.
I’m losing myself here. Please bring me home before there’s nothing left to come home.
____________
To: Hannah Vaughn
From: Cecilia Vaughn
Date: November 1
Subject: Re: Re: Happy Halloween
I’ll talk to Dad and see what I can do.
____________
I heard a knock and pulled the covers off my head to look at my bedroom door. “Yeah?”
Felicity opened it halfway and peeked inside. “Are you okay? Grace just came downstairs and said you weren’t feeling well and wanted to stay home from school.”
I sat up against the bed pillow and tried to smooth down my hair, which was pretty useless. I hadn’t showered in two days and my hair was a mess of greasy tangles. “I’m fine. I mean—I don’t actually feel well enough for school. My stomach is hurting.”
She came all the way into the room, and I saw that she was dressed for work in a slim-fitting dark blue pantsuit. Her hair was slicked back and twisted into a tight chignon. When she registered my face, she stopped w
alking toward me and asked, “What’s wrong, Hannah?”
“I told you. My stomach… It might be cramps or maybe I ate something bad.”
“I doubt that. You’ve barely eaten anything for more than a week,” she said, sitting on the edge of my bed.
I couldn’t believe that she’d noticed my eating habits. “I’m fine. Okay?”
Felicity pressed her hand against my forehead. “You’re not hot.”
“I know that.” I rolled to my side so that I was half turned away from her.
“Listen,” she said gently, “I know we haven’t spent much time together since you’ve been here. But I’m here if you want to talk.”
“I’m fine.”
Her sigh was loud and disappointed. “I know that’s not true, Hannah. I talked to your mom.”
“Oh,” I mumbled against the sheets.
“She told me that you want to go home. Back to Oklahoma.”
I tilted my head so that I was looking at her. “I was going to tell you.”
Her lips puckered. “I’m not mad. I just want to make sure you’re okay and that you know I want you to stay here. But only if you’re happy.”
That was it. That was when the floodgates broke from their hinges.
“I’m not!” I sobbed.
“Oh, Hannah,” she said, bending to me and putting her arms over my back.
I wasn’t even sure what I was most upset about. Joel? Caroline? School? Did it even matter?
I curled into my sister’s lap and I cried and I cried until there was nothing left inside of me. And when I could breathe again, I pulled away and wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand.
“I’m sorry,” I said through my hiccups.
“Don’t be.”
“But your suit.” I pointed to the wet splotches my tears and snot had left on the front of her jacket.
“It doesn’t matter,” she told me. “I’m calling in today. I think that we both need a mental health day.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, sniffing through my clogged nose.
“I mean that I’m going to have Michael drop the girls off and I’m going to change and you and I are going to get out of here.”
“And do what?”
Felicity pushed my hair back. “Anything that’s not moping,” she said. “But first, you need to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
She squinted her eyes and wrinkled her nose. “Take a shower, Hannah. You’re starting to stink.”
****
“Are you hungry? Felicity asked. “I know a place nearby.”
I stopped, adjusted the plastic shopping bag in my hand and looked down the sidewalk in the direction she was indicating. “Kind of.”
Truthfully, I was starving and glad that she’d finally brought up food. It was late afternoon and with all the walking we’d done, the hamburgers we’d gotten at a tiny restaurant down near the Thames for lunch had burned off a while ago.
This morning, Felicity had decided that if I was going to go back to Oklahoma, I needed to leave London with a bang. She wanted to make sure I caught all of the tourist spots, which meant that we’d been on our feet all day, moving from attraction to attraction.
We’d done The National Gallery and taken a silly amount of selfies in front of Big Ben. Then we’d taken a double-decker bus to Madame Tussauds and laughed at the waxy celebrities.
My favorite sight of the day was the Tower of London, with its sandy stone walls and dark hidden passages. I’d stopped at the gift shop and bought a shirt for Henry, a small snow globe of the Tower for Caroline, and a salt and pepper set for my parents.
“This is a pub I used to frequent during my university days,” Felicity was saying as we walked under a pedestrian bridge and cut across a busy line of traffic.
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “But let’s not order any sausages.”
“What’s that?” she asked over her shoulder.
I shook my head and smiled to myself. “Never mind.”
Felicity found us a table near the door and we both took our jackets off and hung them on the back of our chairs. I stuffed the bag containing my gifts for Henry and Caroline and my mom and dad in the cramped space beneath my legs.
A waitress stopped by our table and Felicity ordered us a cheese plate and a roast to split. She insisted that I had to try a Yorkshire pudding, which turned out to be like a little puff pastry.
As we ate, Felicity opened up and I discovered who my sister was.
She talked about the girls and she told me how she’d met Michael. Somehow this topic led into her job at an accounting firm, which she confessed she hated.
“I always wanted to open up my own clothing store,” she said quietly as she wiped the side of her mouth with a napkin.
“Then why don’t you?”
She averted her eyes and shook her head. “It’s too risky. I would fail.”
“You don’t know that,” I said. “And anyway, usually it’s the things that scare us that are worth it in the end. What you’re talking about sounds like an adventure to me. And if the choice is between an adventure or playing it safe.” I shrugged. “Well, I think you should choose the adventure.”
Felicity gave me a pointed look. “Like you chose London?”
“That’s not…” I was going to say that it wasn’t the same thing, but it was the same and I knew it. How could I encourage my sister to take a giant leap when I wasn’t willing to follow through and see my own adventure to the end?
After that our conversation glided back toward more neutral territory. We talked about our favorite movies and books. When we were finished and the check was paid, I turned around to gather my things. That’s when I noticed a small orange flyer tacked to the wall of the pub.
“What’s this?” I asked pointing to the flyer. “A ghost tour?”
“Ooooh,” Felicity said, stepping up behind me so that she could see. “I’ve heard of those but I could never convince Michael to go with me. He frightens as easily as a newborn colt.”
I laughed before reading out loud, “Old Barley’s Ghostly Experience: A theatrical sightseeing tour through the darker side of London, including Highgate Cemetery.”
“It sounds like it might be a bit of adventure,” she observed. “The pick-up point is not far from here. Do you want to try it?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“Please try to post these around and hand them out to your friends and family,” Mrs. Cobb was saying as she circulated the stage with a bunch of papers.
When she handed some to me, I realized that they were flyers for the play. Opening night was less than a week away.
“I’ll take a few,” Henry said, stepping from behind the black curtain that separated the backstage area.
On Monday after the dance, Henry had reappeared in the auditorium after school to work on the play again. I couldn’t say that things were back to how they were pre-fight—we still weren’t riding to school together—but they were getting there.
He’d even started joking with me again on a regular basis. And that was better than all the Pumpkin Spice Lattes in the world.
When Mrs. Cobb finished handing us flyers, rehearsal dispersed. I walked down the steps attached to the side of the stage and found my backpack where I’d left it in the fourth row of seats.
I was bent over wedging some flyers between my textbooks when I heard a throat being cleared behind me.
“Hey Caroline?” It was Miles.
I stood up. “Yeah?”
“So, I was wondering…?”
“Is this about the final scene?” I’d missed a few steps today and was planning on practicing when I got home. “I’m going to work on—”
“No,” he said, shaking his head forcefully. “I was going to see if you wanted to have lunch with me tomorrow?”
“Oh. Um—” I looked around the auditorium. Several students were close enough that they could hear us. One of them was Hen
ry. My heart clenched and my stomach turned over. Something felt innately wrong about accepting Miles' invitation, especially with Henry as a witness.
“It’ll be Friday so I figured we could go off-campus.”
“Right. I… just…” I locked eyes with Henry and something inside of me fell away. I don’t know what I thought I’d see there—Anger? Jealousy?—but he just offered me a small smile of encouragement. It was a stark and painful reminder that the feelings I had for him were unrequited. Maybe we could be friends again, but that was all. I knew the best thing for me to do would be to give Miles—the guy who was actually interested in me—a real chance.
“If you can’t…” Miles was saying awkwardly.
“No! I’d love to have lunch with you,” I said with a forced cheerfulness that sounded pretty legit to my ears. Maybe I was getting the hang of this acting thing after all.
Miles looked relieved. “Great. There’s this new place that just opened on Main that I’ve been wanting to check out.”
“Okay,” I nodded with feigned enthusiasm.
“Do you like Thai?”
“Love it!” I lied. In the ninth grade I’d gotten food poisoning after eating Kuay Tiew while on vacation with Hannah’s family and I’d hadn’t been able to look at Thai food without feeling nauseous since.
But Miles was a nice guy, and if there was a possibility I could like him as something more than a friend, shouldn’t I go for it?
“Great,” he said again. “Then I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” This time, my voice came out all wrong and my face muscles felt tense.
Luckily, I didn’t think Miles caught it. He flashed me a genuine smile and waved as he walked back toward the stage.
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