The Apocalypse

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The Apocalypse Page 12

by Jack Parker


  "Hi, Jake!" He looked away from the guys to see one of the cheerleaders waving at him flirtatiously, so Jake gave her a grin and nearly laughed when a group of her friends erupted into giggles. "You look great."

  He gave her a polite nod. "And you look incredible."

  The girl, who he thought was on the dance team, blushed deeply. "Thanks…"

  "Jake!"

  A sudden yelp removed Jake from his basking, and two strong hands gripped his shoulders desperately. "God, Brent, what's your freaking problem, man?" he crudely asked. "Get off!"

  "I'm about to shoot myself in the earlobe," Brent announced somberly, removing his hands to cross his arms. "I swear to you, I'm losing my mind! How many more hours does this stupid thing last?"

  Brent's desperation instantly humored Jake, and he grinned, blatantly feigning sympathy. "Why? What's the problem, buddy?"

  "I've been dancing for the past forty hours!" Brent exaggerated, glaring at Jake as though it was solely his fault, which only amused Jake more. "And the entire time, I've had to listen to all the gossip of who's dating who and whose dress is prettier than whose, and I'm two seconds away from going postal!"

  Calmly, Jake stifled a laugh and slugged Brent's upper arm. He tried to show some genuine sympathy, but it was hard because Brent always seemed to end up with superficial girls. "It'll be okay. Just tell her that you want to sit out for a couple dances."

  "Oh yeah, that'll go over really well," Brent griped, pulling a face of disbelief. He raised his voice an octave, mocking femininely, "'What's the matter? Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?'" He scowled and shook his head. "You know how these girls are. They're psychotic! And they never shut up!"

  "Oh, sure, sure," Jake agreed easily, nodding as his enjoyment continued to grow.

  "Wow! Brent, come dance with me!"

  Jake and Brent both looked over to see Brent's date, Rachael, excitedly looking toward the dance floor. The slow ballads had been replaced with fast paced music, and strobe lights flickered wildly to the pulsating beats. The flashing lights honestly made Jake's head swim at first, until he adjusted to the dizzying effect.

  "Uh, Jake said the punch is great," Brent lied quickly, prompting a snicker from Jake. "Want me to grab you some?"

  "No, I want you to dance with me," Rachael whined impatiently.

  Jake took a step and elbowed the nearest guy to him, who was about three feet away. It just happened to be his baseball teammate from his first period class. "Hey, Rachael, Anthony wants to dance with you. He said so earlier."

  Rachael's face lit up, probably at the prospect of dancing with anybody. "Come on, Anthony!" She tugged on his arm, oblivious to his shock, and pulled him to the dance floor, even though his protests could be heard.

  "Thanks, Jake," Brent muttered, rolling his brown eyes. He rubbed his temples slowly; when it came to girls, Brent really preferred hooking up over hanging out. "Man, she's giving me a headache. Did anybody bring booze? I need a drink or five to get through this mess."

  Jake rolled his eyes also. "I don't know. We can check the punch though."

  Eagerly, Brent followed Jake toward the refreshment tables, and both loaded up on cookies before they reached the punch bowl. They picked up paper cups of fruit punch and then leaned against the cold wall of the gym, looking around in boredom in comfortable silence. Only a few moments had passed before a rather frantic Tisha appeared in front of the guys, with Libby following behind her.

  "You've got to come with me, Jake!" Tisha informed him urgently, nudging him gently. "Hannah's flipping out, and she asked for you. Come on!"

  Jake took a simple glance at Tisha's widened blue-green eyes and drained his cup of punch slowly. "Ayers isn't my problem. You take care of her."

  "But, Jake, she asked for you!" Tisha bit down on her lower lip nervously and glanced at Libby helplessly before snapping her eyes back to Jake's indifferent face. "You don't understand! She was dancing with Ethan, and then she just—I don't know! Now she's, like, hyperventilating practically, and we can't calm her down!"

  Brent smirked. "Then why'd you leave her alone?"

  Grateful that his friend was back to himself and no longer pitying Hannah, at least at the moment, Jake laughed a little. "Good point, Brent."

  Scowling, Tisha regarded Brent coldly. "Ethan's with her," she snapped. "Clearly, he's the only one of you guys that experiences real, human emotions." She then spun on her high heels and headed back across the gym speedily.

  "Jeez, what's her problem?" Brent made a face at Libby and took a drink from his cup. "It makes a lot more sense for you girls to tend to Hannah."

  Libby's eyes narrowed, but she ignored Brent and instead glared at Jake. "Why are you just standing there? What part of Tisha telling you that Hannah wants you is so hard to understand?"

  Jake returned Libby's stare easily. "Do I look like my neighbor's keeper?"

  "You're such an asshole," Libby spat at him and his smirk furiously. "You said all that bullcrap about being nice to Hannah because of your moms, but, in reality, you don't even care that much. Hannah's depending on you, Jake, and all you can do is stand there? What kind of sick bastard are you? You let her think that you're a nice guy this whole time, and now when she actually needs you, you have to—"

  "Where is she?" Jake interrupted with a deep sigh. Libby glared, refusing to speak. Jake waited patiently for a full ten seconds, but she never made a sound. "Now who's just standing there? Libby, come on. You've got me in submission. Let's go."

  Muttering something under her breath inaudibly, Libby turned and took off in the direction that Tisha had gone. Jake followed behind her, and Brent followed behind him. Although he was annoyed, Jake was also somewhat curious. Mainly, he thought the irony of Hannah asking for him was hilarious, but he tried not to show it.

  He followed Libby to a corridor just outside of the gym, where Ethan was kneeling in front of Hannah, who was perched on a chair, noticeably on the verge of tears. Her erratic breathing, the paleness of her face, and the panic in her eyes made Jake do a double take, and the time it took him to do so gave Hannah just enough time to see him, hop from the chair, and lunge at him.

  "Jake…"

  Taken aback, Jake followed Hannah's lead and slipped his arms around her, enveloping her in a hug that she initiated. Her sobs came out softly as her tears brushed against Jake's neck. "Hannah, calm down," he murmured softly, rubbing small circles against her lower back. "Stop crying."

  She only clung to Jake harder, crying louder. "Th-those lights, Jake!" she wailed softly. "It-it's…"

  "Maybe you should take her home," Ethan said softly, looking very concerned as Hannah's crying drowned out her voice. He watched Jake through intense hazel eyes, and Jake nodded back at him slowly. Clearly relieved, Ethan smiled approvingly.

  After enthusiastic warnings from the girls and Ethan, as well as a muttered goodbye from Brent, Jake led a still crying Hannah to his truck, feeling thoughtful as he listened to her sobs. He knew that he'd never seen her like this before, but instead of finding it a time to mock her, Jake felt uneasy. It was just too weird for him.

  "Pl-please don't take me home," Hannah whimpered, wiping at her cheeks in a futile attempt to erase the tracks of mascara and eyeliner staining her cheeks. "I-I don't want to have to—have to explain to M-Mom why I-I'm home so early."

  Jake considered this and opted for leverage. "I don't know… Are you going to tell me why you're so upset?"

  "Are y-you blackmailing me?"

  Glancing over, Jake almost smiled at the expression of disbelief and disgust on Hannah's face. Apparently, she wasn't going too insane, since she'd busted him quickly. "No. Just sit back and relax. We can hang out at my house for awhile."

  Hannah didn't answer, and the only sounds that filled Jake's truck on the approximately ten-minute drive to his house were Hannah's sniffles as she tried to stop crying. More curious, Jake tried to think of what could have happened. No one had offered any explanation to him at all,
and when he thought of that, he got irritated. If he was going to give up some sanity and comfort Hannah, he deserved an explanation.

  "Th-thanks for getting m-me out of th-there, Jake," Hannah murmured softly.

  He glanced at her as he parked in his driveway. "No problem."

  Jake turned his truck's engine off and got out. By the time he had his house unlocked, Hannah was behind him. Jake didn't bother calling out to announce his arrival; he already knew that the house was empty, as his mom was working another late shift. When he thought about how much his mom worked, Jake became furious, but Diane refused to let her son help with expenses, opting instead to be the sole family provider.

  "Do you think you could l-loan out some clothes so I won't cry on my d-dress?"

  Jake looked at Hannah oddly. "Uh, okay." He motioned for her to follow him, and he walked up the stairs and then to his bedroom. It was beyond awkward having his enemy where he slept, but Jake ignored that and retrieved his baseball sweatpants from his drawer, already thinking about how strange it'd be to see Hannah wearing pants with his last name and baseball number of '9' on the leg. He tossed the sweatpants and a Fricker's t-shirt at her, and then tipped his head, wondering what he was supposed to do.

  Hannah shifted her weight. "Wh-where's your bathroom?"

  After directing her, Jake changed into some basketball shorts and a plain t-shirt—if Hannah got to lounge in comfort, he was taking advantage of that opportunity too—and bounded down the stairs to the living room, where he flipped the television on. Jake wasn't sure what he was watching or why, but it at least got his mind off of Hannah. Well, it did for a few minutes, before Hannah reappeared downstairs in his clothes, which were certainly too big for her; she'd apparently tried cleaning up in the bathroom, since her cheeks had been cleared of any makeup.

  "Feeling better?" Jake asked tentatively.

  Hannah sat down on the couch next to Jake and looked at him miserably. "I re-remember the wreck." Her voice was quiet but firm, and tears again brimmed her eyes. "At least…I think I do." Biting her lower lip, Hannah fidgeted. "You know the strobe lights in the gym? Well, um…I don't know, but I remember that. Lights flashing and moving fast and then…not moving at all."

  Uncertain, Jake studied Hannah, his forehead wrinkling. "That's…good, right? Your memory's coming back, Hannah. That's good."

  "No, it's not!" Hannah insisted, shaking her head furiously. "You don't know how scary it is to remember what must have been the most traumatizing moment of my life!" She sniffled softly and sighed. "I can't stop picturing it. Spinning an-and those stupid lights! Then nothing but black."

  Jake tenderly reached out his hand and settled it over Hannah's, which rested on her lap. It was a gesture that he thought would be comforting, but Hannah appeared briefly surprised. "Maybe…you're not remembering it," he said gently. "Maybe it's just a fluke or something."

  "You think so?" Hannah asked hopefully.

  Nodding despite not having a clue, Jake went on, "But if it's not…maybe the rest of your memory is coming too." Oh, he could only hope. And oh, how he would hope. "Don't let it scare you, Hannah. That would be a good thing."

  Hannah's blue eyes watched Jake seriously, and she attempted a little smile. "You might be right," she spoke quietly. "But I still don't like it. It's creepy."

  "You can't stop it though."

  "Obviously." Hannah sniffled again and frowned. "I don't think all the fake snowflakes in the gym helped either. Snow really freaks me out."

  Jake could understand that. In fact, he should have thought of that. When Tisha had told him that Hannah was freaking out, he should have assumed it was the winter theme, but his mind hadn't comprehended that Hannah might have a flashback. Was it even a flashback, or could it be some kind of false memories? Wouldn't her memory just all come back at once? Was it supposed to come back in pieces? Would recreating scenes bring it back faster?

  "Have you remembered anything else?" Jake asked softly, lightly rubbing his thumb against the back of Hannah's hand. "Is there anything you think you remember anyway?"

  Hannah swallowed audibly. "Uh-uh." She looked down, and Jake thought he was watching his hand; the idea of that made him nervous, so he stilled his thumb. "But things feel more natural. The girls didn't even get on my nerves tonight." She looked up and raised her eyebrows at Jake significantly. "That's good, right?"

  "Definitely." Jake couldn't help but smile. If the girls were getting back on Hannah's good side, maybe she'd hang out more with them instead of him and his friends. The thought brightened Jake's day, until he realized that he was the one comforting Hannah after she'd broken down, not her friends. That realization killed the smile that had covered Jake's face. Maybe Hannah's friends weren't taking her off Jake's hands yet, but it was a start.

  "I bought your Christmas present, by the way."

  Surprised, Jake blinked his green eyes slowly. Then his smile returned against his will. "Did it come from the pet store?"

  "Nope." Hannah inched closer to Jake and returned his smile. "I couldn't find a muzzle big enough for that mouth of yours, so…that idea didn't work out."

  Jake smirked and angled his head playfully. "Right, right. So did you get me some strong disinfectant instead? Because I'm really going to need it for when you give me my clothes back."

  Making a face, Hannah flung Jake's hand off of hers. "Believe it or not, some of us have excellent personal hygiene, and I'm one of those people."

  "And if I wasn't also, I doubt you'd be in my clothes." Jake waited for Hannah to retort, but apparently she had no answer for that, so he congratulated himself on his victory as he picked up the television's remote and flipped through channels. "So did you have a good time at Formal, other than the strobe light thing?"

  "Are you kidding me? You ignored me the whole time."

  Taken aback, Jake forgot about the television and stared at Hannah. "I beg your pardon? You went to Formal with Ethan, not me. Therefore, he was supposed to pay you attention, not me."

  "And he did." Hannah shrugged and started pulling her strawberry blonde hair out of its complex up-do. Jake watched her locks fall to her shoulders in soft waves, though her hair was naturally straight. "But it just wasn't the same without you."

  Jake shifted his position on the couch awkwardly, not sure how he liked hearing that. He knew that, according to Isaac, Hannah had a crush on him, but the thought of her acting on it sent waves of repulsion through his veins. Some lighthearted flirting was about as much as Jake could handle with Hannah. When she started throwing in emotional boohoos and professing feelings, he was going to move to Congo or wherever it was that headhunters lived these days. He was pretty sure he'd fare better with them than with Hannah.

  "My ego didn't know how to handle not getting crushed at every minute," Hannah added, placing the pins from her hair on Jake's lap. Jake made a face at that but didn't make an attempt to remove them. "It was a huge change."

  "Whatever. It wasn't the same without me because you want me so bad."

  "Want you what? Dead?"

  Jake smirked. "If I were you, I wouldn't talk about me being dead. You'll start crying again at the mere thought of losing me."

  "Are you always so proud of yourself?" Hannah asked, wrinkling her nose. "It's starting to get old."

  Ignoring that completely, Jake swept his hand across his lap and sent all of Hannah's hair pins to the floor in a swift motion. That insult hit too close to the one she'd given him on the day of the wreck, when she'd declared that he always acted proud of himself. "So anyway," Jake began, obviously engaging in a new topic, since he didn't like reliving the previous one, "what'd you get me for Christmas?"

  "Nice avoidance skills." Hannah yawned and leaned back against the couch comfortably. She snatched the television's remote from Jake and took over flicking through the channels. "I'm not telling you. It's a secret."

  Incredulous over the fact that Hannah had taken his remote, Jake stared at her, not sure what to say for severa
l moments. "Fine. Keep your secret. But I'm not getting you anything for Christmas."

  Hannah's mouth dropped open, but she closed it quickly, keeping her eyes straight ahead on the screen of the television. "Fine. I wouldn't want something you got me anyway. It'd probably be as gross as you are."

  "Gross? I'm gross?" Jake rolled his eyes and jerked the remote from Hannah's hand, tossing it across the room to prevent her from distracting herself with the television. She nodded back at him. "See how mean you are to me? That's why I won't get you anything. If I did though, it'd be wonderful."

  "Liar." Hannah was visibly trying not to smile as she watched Jake's face eagerly. "You're incapable of wonderful."

  Jake smirked. "You're trying to challenge me into buying you something, aren't you? It's not going to work. I already made up my mind that you're getting absolutely nothing from me."

  "That's okay," Hannah promised, patting Jake's hand sarcastically. "I'm such a lovely girl that I'll still give you your present, even though you have gross manners."

  "And just think…you get the pleasure of putting up with my gross manners for the whole day of Christmas." Jake flipped over the hand that Hannah had patted quickly, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed her hand tenderly and gave her a sweet smile. "That's the closest thing to a gift you'll get from me."

  "A-and like I said, it's a gross present," Hannah declared, making a face. Jake watched her carefully as she glanced at the clock. "Think my mom would have gone to sleep by now? Maybe I can sneak in and avoid any questions."

  Jake reached over and parted the blinds that covered the window. "All the lights are out at your house," he informed her. Then he smiled teasingly and slipped his arm around Hannah's shoulders. "Getting scared of me or something?"

  Rolling her eyes, Hannah stood up immediately and peered out the window, plainly showing that she'd check out her house herself. "Not a bit," she answered easily. "You're right though. Lights out."

 

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