The Apocalypse (12 page)

"Uh-uh!" Tisha's blue-green eyes were even bigger as she placed her books on the table that she and her friends always sat at in the cafeteria. Then she relaxed as the two girls walked toward the lunch line. "Well, I don't know why that surprises me. Ethan's been crazy about you for awhile. I guess I just thought he'd understand by now that you have Greg."

Greg. That's right, Hannah had Greg. Even though she really didn't. "Mm," she murmured gently, scanning the cafeteria thoughtfully. Maybe she could ask the guys to sit with the other girls; that would take some pressure off. "Have you seen—"

"So what did you tell him?" Tisha interjected, picking up a tray when the girls moved forward in the line. "I don't remember hearing any of your screaming…"

"I said I'd think about it," Hannah muttered. She hoped that Tisha hadn't really heard her, since she expected the girl to have something irritating to say.

Tisha's mouth dropped open. "What? No way! Why?"

Hannah placed a ham and cheese hoagie on her tray, stalling to think about Tisha's reaction. Was something wrong with Ethan? She plucked a banana from a bowl and placed that on her tray also. "Greg and I hadn't talked. Ethan seemed interested, so…why not?"

That seemed to be enough of an explanation for Tisha, and Hannah was grateful because that meant that Tisha kept her mouth shut for a few minutes. But as soon as the girls had sat down at their table, where Morgan and Libby were already eating, Tisha blurted the news that Hannah had been asked to Winter Formal by Ethan and hadn't responded rudely.

Libby blinked, appearing at a total loss for words, and Hannah knew that, for such an aggressive arguer, was
a
huge feat. "Huh," she said finally, taking a drink from her bottled water.

Tisha stared at Libby and then at Morgan, making Hannah believe that she wanted more of a reaction than that. "That's all you can say? Hannah and
Ethan
! Not Hannah and Greg!"

"Honestly?" Libby shrugged and tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. "I'm more concerned with that banana on Hannah's tray than who she's going to Formal with."

"Libby, don't start again today," Morgan spoke up softly, keeping her eyes down. "Just let it go."

Hannah felt extremely uncomfortable. Although she hadn't spent too much time with the girls, they weren't at all acting the way she expected them to. True, Tisha was dramatic like Hannah expected, and Morgan was giving orders that she could have predicted, but Libby's quietness was enough to shake Hannah. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she felt tension among the girls.

"Hello, my darling!"

A bag full of crispy tater tots dangled before Hannah's eyes, and she followed the arm holding them to Ethan's smiling face. He dropped the bag onto Hannah's tray and placed a small, white paper container of ketchup beside it, pulling a chair up beside Hannah's as he did so. Although Hannah was confused, since she hadn't asked for tater tots, she was relieved because the other guys were following, though Jake looked unhappy. Hannah made a mental note to ask him what was wrong.

Holding the bag of tater tots up blankly, Hannah asked, "What are these for?"

Ethan blinked, appearing surprised, but he relaxed after
a
second and opened the bag for her. "Try one. They're good." He nudged the container of ketchup at her until Hannah obeyed. After swallowing, Hannah grinned. "Incredible, right?"

"Incredible," Hannah agreed with a nod that bounced her strawberry blonde locks. She proceeded to eat the tater tots, smiling appreciatively. "Thanks, Ethan."

"No problem, dearest," he beamed. She ignored the term of endearment.

As Hannah ate, she became aware of Tisha and Morgan whispering around Jake's head; he looked annoyed and continuously gave them glances that she believed were meant to shut them up. Every now and then, she thought she heard Tisha and Morgan saying her name, but she couldn't be sure. Hannah also noticed that Libby had leaned in close to Brent, giggling at everything he said.

"Are you going to the game tomorrow?" Ethan asked after he'd swallowed a bite of his chicken sandwich. "We're playing Miamisburg." He grinned. "We usually beat them, which is a big deal since our basketball team isn't that great."

Hannah almost laughed, but Jake cut in, saying, "No, wait, Sharpe. Our team
hasn't
been that great in the past." Jake shrugged, his eyes lit up in a way that Hannah hadn't seen them before. "But this year—we've already won three games. We're going to kick some major ass."

"I sure hope so," Brent commented suddenly, snapping out of his conversation with Libby. Hannah saw that she looked disappointed because of that fact. "But we'll still get killed by Trotwood."

"They're pretty amazing," Jake allowed, taking a drink from his Coca-Cola. Apparently, that was all he had to say about the matter, and Hannah suspected that Brent had hit a soft spot.

Ethan turned back to Hannah. "So you'll come, right?"

"I'll be there," Libby informed Brent flirtatiously, making him grin. She stroked his bicep slowly and affectionately, and his grin widened immediately. "I can't wait to see you play again."

"You're a cheerleader," Jake said flatly, appearing almost disgusted. "You kind of have to be there, Wilson."

It was with absolute delight that Hannah saw Libby grow flustered and maybe even embarrassed. It seemed as though Libby couldn't argue, and it brightened Hannah's day immensely. "I'll come," she promised Ethan, though her eyes skimmed Jake's. "It sounds like fun."

Tisha's mouth fell open. "You've never been to a basketball game, Hannah! You came to Homecoming last year for the crowning ceremony, but you—"

"Maybe I was missing out," Hannah interrupted, offering Ethan a small smile, which he returned enthusiastically. "You guys better win," she teased lightly, giving glances to all three boys. "I won't go to another game if you don't."

Jake scoffed and muttered something under his breath, but Hannah couldn't hear it. She did, however, see Morgan elbow him sharply, prompting him to roll his eyes. Curious, Hannah tipped her head. She was beginning to believe that Jake had problems with mood swings. He was up, he was down, he was talkative, he was silent—something was up with him. And it was driving her crazy.

It seemed like it had taken
a
lifetime for Hannah to have the stitches removed from her forehead. After she and her mom had drove to the doctor's office, waited for her name to be called, waited for the doctor to come in, waited for him to remove her stitches, and waited for him to ask about her recovery, it was nearing five o'clock. Patricia had decided to pass on cooking dinner and had instead made the trip to the closest Marion's Piazza, one in a local chain of pizza restaurants that was famous in the Dayton area for thin crust pizzas and for having regularly rude workers. Nevertheless, the aroma that filled Patricia's SUV made Hannah hungry, and she counted four rumbles of her stomach on the way home.

As soon as Hannah's mom had parked in the driveway, she'd taken off to her bedroom, eager to get a good look at her forehead. Her doctor had assured her that the wound had healed remarkably well but that she could have laser work performed to minimize the scarring if she wanted. Studying herself closely in her mirror, Hannah tipped her head, trying to get as much light on the mark as she could. For the most part, the scar was just
a
very thin line, and it would probably begin to fade a little with time. It wasn't grotesque, so Hannah exchanged her blue jeans for navy sweatpants and then made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

"Mmm, this pizza is amazing," Isaac was saying when Hannah entered the room. He held
a
small square of pizza in his hand and finished it off in a second bite. "Hannah, you've got to try some."

Doing as she was told, Hannah took the seat by her brother and across from Jake and reached into the pizza box. Within fifteen seconds, Hannah was mentally proclaiming love for the food as she fought with the guys for the 'corner' slices—as the circular pizza was divided into many squares—which were crispy and delicious.

"How was practice?" Patricia asked the two boys as she sat down at the table and reached for a square of pizza.

"Exhausting," Isaac complained with his mouth full. "I had to run
four
laps because I was late."

Jake laughed. "Tell her why you were late, Isaac."

The younger boy scowled and reached across the table for a napkin. "It was so stupid, Mom! I stayed behind in my last class because—get this. Mrs. Davis gave our history tests back today, and she marked one of my essay questions wrong." He raised his eyebrows challengingly, showing how passionate he was about his grades. "But Lincoln's wife really
did
have séances in the White House! And she
was
put into a mental institution. She was a quack!"

Patricia smiled and shook her head gently. "Isaac…"

"But I finally argued enough to make her correct the score," Isaac declared, smirking at his accomplishment.

"And then had to run laps," Jake added teasingly, making Hannah think he was only saying it to get a reaction from Isaac. He did get one, as Isaac scowled and chomped on his dinner bitterly.

"All because of that stupid Mary Todd," Isaac muttered, his scowl deepening. "You know, she had real problems with overspending, and it if wasn't for her—"

"We don't care," Jake interrupted flatly.

Although Hannah had been listening to her brother in amusement, she was impressed by Jake's leadership. Whereas Morgan's bossiness annoyed her, Hannah suspected that Jake's was a source of entertainment, particularly given that Patricia had laughed at his comment.

Isaac made a face. "Whatever. I wish John Wilkes Booth had missed Lincoln and shot her instead."

"Isaac!" Patricia scolded, her eyes wide. "Don't stay stuff like that."

But Jake was laughing. "Aw, he's entitled to his opinion."

Hannah remained silent throughout the dinner, and, when the boys retreated into the living room, she stayed behind and helped her mother clean up. She was oblivious to her mother's surprised stare as Hannah carried glasses from the table to the kitchen sink. It was the least she could do after skipping out on cleaning for the past two nights.

"How'd you like the pizza, sweetie?" Patricia asked while she wiped the kitchen table off with
a
sponge. "You were so quiet."

"It was good," Hannah replied, nodding emphatically. She smiled and leaned against the counter. "Delicious, actually."

Hannah lingered in the kitchen for a few more minutes, but when she realized that her mom wasn't going to assign her a task to complete, Hannah escaped the room, or at least she felt like she had. Curious, she peered into the living room, where Isaac and Jake were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, flipping through channels on the television. It only took Hannah a few seconds to decide to join them, plopping down on the middle couch cushion between them.

Jake looked over, seemingly in surprise, and Isaac proceeded to turn his body, resting his back against the arm of the couch and his feet over Hannah's lap. When she looked at him, he grinned cheekily. "You don't mind, do you?" Isaac asked.

"I do," Jake replied, leaning past Hannah so he could Isaac plainly. "Dude, your feet stink."

Isaac just laughed and made no move to remove his feet, so Hannah just shrugged. He wasn't bothering her.

"What are we watching?" Hannah asked suddenly, tipping her head at the television's screen.

"Nothing so far," Isaac replied. Then he shot Jake a warning glance. "But, by God, at eight o'clock, we better be watching
Smallville
." Jake merely grinned, so he went on, "Right, Jake? Okay?"

His answer was simple. "Mmhmm."

"Were you upset earlier?" Hannah asked suddenly, looking at Jake. When he turned his head, she thought he looked shocked, but she persisted. "You seemed sort of weird at lunch."