The Apocalypse (33 page)

Jake hadn't been able to think of a single thing that could convince Mercedes that he liked Hannah then; he'd despised Hannah with every breath in his body. But now…Jake had kissed Hannah back, and when she was nearby, it was all that Jake could think about. Now he had to wonder why Mercedes had been so sure that he'd liked anything about Hannah, let alone liked Hannah.

He thought back to the other night when he and Hannah had gone to Fricker's. The food, as usual, was awesome, and he had to admit that he'd enjoyed teasing Hannah on the way there. Jake could even admit to himself that the teasing came naturally, flirtatiously, and not at all hatefully. Over cheeseburgers, he and Hannah had talked about their shared dread of returning to school, their upcoming shared birthday party, and their nervousness over going to college in the following fall. Remembering it now…Jake decided that there were altogether too many 'theirs' in that list of conversations, and it almost made it seem like he and Hannah had things in common—a sure basis for a friendship. That couldn't be true though, right?

"Jake? Are you okay?"

Hannah's fingertips brushed Jake's forearm, and a tingling sensation rocketed through his body. Somewhat dazed, Jake stared at Hannah lengthily. "Yeah…why?"

"You seem distracted." Hannah nibbled her lower lip briefly, very openly studying Jake. He turned his head quickly, his paranoia returning; what if she somehow could read his thoughts? He didn't even know what his thoughts were! But he knew they were bad—very bad and very un-Jake-like. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Positive."

"I kind of feel left out," Hannah stated. Jake glanced at her, suddenly aware of the color of her hair. He'd never really noticed the brightness of it before. Quickly, Jake glanced up, trying to decide if the lighting was influencing his perception of her appearance. "I mean, Libby and Tisha are busy flirting, and Morgan's in some deep conversation about time or something with somebody who apparently thinks philosophically, and I'm bored."

Jake slowly rubbed his hand over his hair. He wasn't positive that he'd been listening to Hannah; his brain felt all fuzzy. "Yeah," he heard himself say. "My guys are busy too."

Hannah shrugged and polished off a chocolate chip cookie that Jake previously hadn't noticed her nibbling on. He shook his head, trying to clear the inner haze. Maybe someone had given him more to drink than he'd thought. "Oh well. At least you're here. How have you been today?"

"Okay," Jake replied. He was acutely aware of how close Hannah seemed to be sitting to him. It was mildly uncomfortable. "What about you?"

"Oh, pretty good," Hannah answered, a faint smile brushing her lips. "I didn't really do—"

"Jake!"

A distraction! Jake couldn't have been more grateful.

Head snapping up in the direction of the voice, Jake saw Mercedes rapidly approaching him. Her normal smile wasn't on her face; instead, she seemed almost distracted as she slid onto the couch, trapping Jake between her and Hannah. "Hey, Mercedes," Jake greeted casually. "How's it going?"

"Have you seen Kirk?" she demanded to know, tossing her hair over one shoulder. Mercedes frowned and glanced at her watch. "He should've been here by now, and I'm worried."

Jake thought of everyone he'd seen that night. "Nope. Call him."

"I already have!" Mercedes answered, her already large eyes wide. "Twice. He hasn't answered, and I don't know what to do."

"You could wait on him to get here," Hannah suggested helpfully, and Jake honestly had been about to say the same thing. He turned his head to Hannah, ready to grant her a smile at their shared thought and let her know that's what he'd been thinking as well.

"No offense, but I'd rather get advice from Jake right now, Hannah," Mercedes replied. Jake froze and slowly turned to look at his ex-girlfriend. He'd never heard her respond to anyone in that way before. "I mean, Kirk is, after all, one of Jake's good friends."

"Of course," Hannah murmured, resignation in her tone. Jake almost felt bad for her. She'd just been trying to help, and Mercedes really hadn't had any right at all to speak to her like that. "Sorry."

"It's all right." Mercedes was all smiles now, Jake noticed, and the foreign Mercedes of just seconds ago had completely disappeared. "What do you think I should do, Jake? Will it annoy him if I call again?"

Jake glanced at the clock on the mantle. "It's just nine-thirty. Call him again around ten if he's not here." He shrugged easily. "I wouldn't worry though. Kirk loses track of time sometimes."

Mercedes sighed and leaned back against the couch in exasperation. "Okay," she said, sounding as though she was giving in to a huge temptation. "I'll wait. Distract me though so I don't notice how freaking slow time is going to go."

Half laughing, Jake shook his head gently. He'd wanted a distraction for himself, and Mercedes appeared. How fortunate was that? They, as exes, could distract each other from their new love interests. Wait, had Jake just considered Hannah a love interest? Hell just froze over. "How's your break going?" Jake asked Mercedes, abruptly aware of how few topics came to mind even when he needed one badly to save himself from his thoughts.

"Awesome!" Mercedes showed him a bubbly grin. "I've been shopping almost every day since after Christmas, of course. I actually spent a couple days at the YMCA too, helping them serve food to the homeless."

"I'm impressed but not surprised," Jake commented honestly.

Beaming, Mercedes giggled. "Thanks."

"Hey! There's no room on the couch!"

Jake glanced up and noticed Mollie, his hostess for the evening. She was a short girl with insanely curly blonde hair, known most for being way over-the-top and incredibly outgoing. He wasn't extremely fond of her, but Jake knew other girls that got on his nerves worse than she did—namely Hannah.

"Aw, we can make room for you, Mollie," Mercedes offered brightly. She moved to scoot over, but Mollie plopped into Jake's lap and cracked up. "Or that works too, I guess."

"Uh, hey, Mollie," Jake greeted, understandably awkwardly. Mollie threw her arms around his neck playfully and kissed both his cheeks. "Uh, thanks…"

"Jake, have I told you lately how hot you are?" Mollie purred at him. The alcohol on her breath was impossible not to smell. "You. Are. Hot."

"He's sexy," one of Mollie's friends chimed in. Jake was pretty sure her name was Summer. "Too, too sexy."

Looking back, Jake would have to conclude that Mollie was the life of her own party, for in the next few seconds, his couch and the surrounding area of seclusion filled with various people, all in varying stages of drunk. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket just then, but Jake ignored it, since there was no way he could reach into his pocket with Mollie spread across his lap.

"So Katelynn and David hooked up?"

"No, they
are
hooking up. In Mollie's room, I think."

"I thought he was dating Crystal."

"No, he just hooked up with her at Alana's."

"Is Adam Finch here yet? That boy always knows where to find extra alcohol."

"Is there really already a shortage? It's nowhere near midnight yet!"

The conversations surrounding Jake almost made his head spin, for it seemed like a thousand conversations were going on at once, and he wasn't part of any of them, yet he was trapped in the center of all of them. As if he had any doubts before, Jake knew that he wasn't a big partier—at least not with people that he didn't know really well, like the majority of the people around him. Mercedes, whose elbow was now forever lodged into Jake's side, was immersed in conversation, so she could no longer offer any relief. No one that Jake knew very well could be spotted now.

"Hey, have you seen Brent around?" he asked the girl who had wedged against his other side.

She smiled sweetly at him, obviously drunk and not quite comprehending. "I love your eyes," she slurred at him. "Wanna make out?"

Jake sighed deeply and wished that he'd just stayed at home for the night. He'd feel much more comfortable sitting at home, eating pizza with the guys, and watching the ball drop on television. Yes, he could admit that he was slightly lame, but as long as he was happy, Jake just didn't care.

"Hey, Mollie?" Jake interrupted firmly but politely after about twenty minutes of sitting still and patiently listening to pieces of different conversations. The blonde turned to look at him in surprise. "Can you let me up?"

"Oh, of course, doll," she cooed, caressing his cheek briefly. She slid onto the lap of the girl who'd asked Jake to make out, and Jake made a quick escape from the couch, thoughts of survival pushing him to move faster through the throng of people that had migrated to his area.

He pushed through the people and found a calm spot close to the basement stairs. Jake plopped onto one of the lower stairs and took out his cell phone. An alert for new text messages lit up the phone's screen.

Libby Heatherly: knock that skank's ass off your lap!

Morgan Owens: what r u doing?
we
need to talk asap

Tisha Wilson: Jake…we gotta problem.

Isaac: hey how's the party?

Jake scanned the texts easily but didn't reply to any of them. Instead, he looked around, searching for one of the girls to go talk to in person. He spotted Libby pretty easily, but she was too busy dancing; apparently she wasn't too concerned with whatever issue she had with him now. Tisha—the nicest of the girls—was the next one that Jake looked for, but he had no luck finding her. Morgan didn't immediately fall into his view either, but he soon spotted her near the table full of drinks.

Walking in that direction, Jake found himself questioning why he was letting these girls get to him, but the question was so fleeting that Jake dismissed it without giving it much focus. He approached Morgan almost hesitantly, though he wasn't sure why he was filled with such dread.

"Hey."

Morgan's head snapped in Jake's direction, her eyes showing that she was tired also. Jake didn't feel like as much of a loser then. "Are you aware that Hannah left?" Morgan asked flatly. "Just got up and left."

Surprise hit Jake then. "What? When? Who'd she leave with?" Fury suddenly washed through him; Hannah had already been in one bad wreck—what if she ended up in another one with some crazy or drunk driver? "God, that girl…"

Not waiting on a response from Morgan, Jake stalked away. He shouldn't care so much about her getting into another wreck, but he didn't even know who she'd left with or why, and it was frustrating. What was more frustrating was that he didn't want to care, but he did, and he didn't know how to handle that. He shouldn't have to handle that! It was his damn split personalities, and they were pissing Jake off!

Almost stomping, Jake made his way up the stairs and through Mollie's house, more than ready to be outside so he could leave. He'd driven Brent and Ethan to the party, but he knew they'd get rides; if not, they could call, and he'd be more than happy to come get them, which was information that he'd text to them just as soon as his temper cooled.

Once outside, Jake sat on Mollie's front porch. The cold night air was
a
welcome change from the stifling heat of the basement, and it soothed his flesh, hot from rage. Immediately after sitting, Jake took out of his cell phone and called Hannah. If she took more than two rings to answer, he'd burst with impatience.

Three rings.

"Hello?"

"Where the hell are you?"

There was a pause, and it nearly killed the little ounce of patience that Jake had left. Still, he managed to control himself. "I'm at home," Hannah replied finally, quietly. She didn't sound tired, just…quiet. Abnormal. "Where are you?"

"Why are you at home? How'd you get there?" The questions fell from Jake's mouth faster than his head could process what he was asking. "Why didn't you ask me to take you home? What's going on?"