by Jack Parker
His words sounded weak even to himself. With Morgan being an intelligent girl, Jake expected her to laugh at him and start mocking him. That's why he was mildly stunned when Morgan offered him a slight smile. What was that about? Although it did make sense for crazy, psycho Hannah to have crazy, psycho friends, Jake hadn't previously believed that Morgan could be borderline bipolar. But hey, you learned new things every day, right?
Morgan's eyes drilled into Jake's intensely, that almost smile still plastered on her face. "You have completely lost your mind, Jake Allen."
Before he could reply, Morgan stood and departed from the kitchen. Jake's scowl deepened as Morgan's words echoed in his mind. Now, he'd never been to an insane asylum (though he had called one once and inquired about having Hannah admitted), but Jake imagined that the residents would look something like Morgan had just then—a little bit sneaky and suspicious, yet slightly intimidating and very crazed.
"I thought you were kidding, Morgan."
"I did too. He's really here?"
"What's he doing here? That's so random."
The sound of Libby's and Tisha's voices snapped Jake out of his pissy thoughts. He looked toward the doorway and saw the three girls approaching the kitchen. Morgan still appeared psychotic, while Tisha seemed curious. Libby, on the other hand, had brightness in her eyes and a flirty curve in her smile.
"Hey there, Jake," Libby greeted, plopping onto his lap. Her arms slid around his neck, and she smiled brightly at him. "How's it going?"
Tisha sat down beside Jake and offered him a smile, though hers wasn't as bright as Libby's. "Yeah, how are you? It seems like I haven't seen you in ages."
"And that's definitely depressing to my eyes," Libby cooed, softly stroking her fingertips against Jake's cheek.
"Libby? Get yourself off him." Morgan was scowling when Jake looked at her. "I doubt he came over here just so you could rub all over him."
"I didn't hear any complaints," Libby muttered under her breath, though did as she was told, albeit reluctantly. Before she removed herself from Jake completely, Libby adjusted the collar of his shirt, letting her hands linger a few moments longer than necessary.
Jake inhaled loudly, not entirely sure what to make of the situation. Libby was a slut, yes, but she didn't usually fawn over him—at least not in Hannah's presence, since Hannah probably would have screamed over it. She'd flirted with him a few times, but that had never happened in front of Hannah's friends either. Quite frankly, Libby's displays of affection caught Jake off guard and threw him way off track.
"So…gonna talk to me?" Tisha asked Jake, her smile still remaining. "How are you? How's Hannah? What brings you here?" She giggled at her rush of questions. "Take your time."
Jake's spirits were definitely going downhill. This was precisely why he didn't like Hannah's friends—Tisha was an airhead, Libby was a skank, and Morgan was bossy. He'd definitely had a lapse of good sense when he called Morgan earlier. However, if he ran away now…well, Jake wasn't a runner. So he shrugged and decided to try his case anyway.
"I'm pretty good," he answered slowly, trying—with limited success—to keep his eyes on all three girls, looking for reactions. "And Hannah's kind of the reason I'm here." Quickly, he explained his purpose for being there, how he believed that learning about Hannah would help her get back to normal, how they'd have to help him…
Finally, when Jake had finished talking, he was met with silence. He saw a bigger smile on Morgan's face (which helped her look less demented but more mentally ill), which was oddly inspiring. Libby's sultry expression had been replaced by deep concentration, and when Jake looked at Tisha, he nearly went deaf.
"Awwwww!" Tisha shrieked, making Jake cringe. "That's absolutely precious, Jake!" Tisha positively beamed and reached over to give Jake's arm an encouraging brush. "Jake, you're gonna be friends with Hannah—just wait and see."
Not on your life, Jake's mind screamed, but he figured saying it would lose the support he'd just gained. He momentarily froze, wondering why said support was so important to him.
"That's…actually a pretty good idea," Libby decided after some more thought. Her blue eyes flickered over to Morgan. "Don't you think? Hannah's been spending more time with Jake than us, right? So…he's the bigger influence." She paused, narrowed her eyes, and sent the evil look back to Jake—quite the opposite from her flirty expression moments ago. They were all bipolar. "Unless you take advantage of her somehow—fill her head with lies, use her, make her into—"
"Lib!" Tisha interrupted, sounding scandalized. "Stop it. If Jake was going to do something mean, why would he come to us for suggestions first? He wouldn't tell us his plans or anything!"
That seemed to disappoint Libby and her conspiracy theories. Still, she muttered darkly, "That's what he wants you to think."
Jake rolled his eyes. "Oh come on. Listen to Tisha. She's making a whole lot more sense than you are."
"I think so too, Lib," Morgan admitted, sounding somewhat careful in Jake's opinion, but when he looked at her, she was still smiling that creepy smile. "You are right about Jake being the bigger influence though."
When Libby had nothing to say to that, Jake grinned. "So let's get cracking."
"You should play Hannah's favorite music," Tisha suggested excitedly. Her entire face was lit up at the prospect of helping Hannah, and Jake actually found himself almost liking her. For the moment, anyway. "She likes a lot of classical junk, but Han's really been into the Rascal Flatts these days."
"And lots of early nineties stuff," Morgan added. "I think her favorite song of all time is 'Hey Jealousy' by the Gin Blossoms."
Tisha's light brown hair bounced as her head nodded. "Yeah, and she hates rap and hip-hop and all that stuff. But if you play it around her, she usually gives a funny reaction." Looking more than a little nostalgic, Tisha swallowed and went on softer, "She can complain forever about it."
Coming to life suddenly, Libby reached around and rubbed Tisha's back sympathetically, simultaneously snapping at Jake, "Shouldn't you be taking notes or something?"
Resisting the urge to snap back, Jake shrugged. "Couldn't hurt. But that'd be evidence for Hannah to realize we're planning things behind her back." All of the girls looked stricken for a moment, and Jake replayed what had just come out of his mouth. Quickly, Jake covered himself, "But it's not like it's bad planning. She'd probably appreciate it."
The girls relaxed, and Tisha agreed, "Of course. We're doing this for her, not against her."
"Yeah. I'll go get some paper," Morgan offered, disappearing into her house somewhere.
Watching her go, Jake felt a flash of guilt. Hadn't Hannah been hesitant about remembering stuff when Jake talked to her after Formal? But Hannah had to have her memory restored; she couldn't go her whole life not remembering things. But she's doing a good job of it right now. Freezing again, Jake shook his head gently, confused by his sudden mixed emotions. Apparently he was now suffering from multiple personality disorder. Because Jake was more familiar with the self that disliked Hannah, he forced the goal of getting rid of Hannah by the return of her memory into his head.
"You okay?" Tisha asked suddenly, looking at Jake through concerned blue-green eyes. She bit her lower lip gently and leaned toward Jake.
Surprised, he nodded. "Yeah, sure. So tell me more about Hannah."
Morgan reappeared and placed a pen and some paper in front of Jake. "Piano is Han's life," she reminded him. "Make her play it."
"And make her watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days," Libby commanded sternly. "It's her favorite movie of all time."
"Oh, and throw in My Best Friend's Wedding for good measure," Tisha giggled. "She loves that one too."
"You should watch them with her," Morgan added coyly. When Jake started to question her tone, she went on quickly, saying, "And give her tater tots. Seriously, Jake, I don't know why you didn't think of that before. Tater tots and Hershey's chocolate."
For the next almost hour, Jake listened
to Hannah's friends more than he had in his entire life. It was actually probably the longest he'd kept his own mouth shut as well. Unbelievably, he found himself smiling a little when the girls would fuss over the status of Hannah's number one favorite whatever versus her number two favorite whatever. But what was even more unbelievable to Jake was that he realized that he already knew quite a lot of what the girls told him.
Finally, the time came for him to leave. Back in his truck, Jake backed out of the driveway and took off down the road, remembering his plans to meet up with his friends to play basketball. Halfway across town, his phone vibrated, and Jake snatched it up in his hand, flipped it open, and read a text message.
Morgan Owens: its ok to admit u like hannah
Taken aback, Jake could only stare at his phone, but nearly ditching his truck made him focus his attention back on the road. After thinking about it for a couple minutes, Jake broke his rule about texting while driving and texted back, asking Morgan what she was talking about. Mere seconds passed before Morgan's answer came.
Morgan Owens: u wouldnt go thru so much trouble if u didnt care about her
"Man, this is sad," Ethan panted, dribbling a basketball up the court of the high school's gym. "We had a break from practice during Christmas break, and yet here we are—playing basketball."
Ethan shot the ball, but it bounced off the rim and into Kirk Godfrey's hands. Kirk took off running with it to the opposite side of the court. "At least you play better at a real practice," he called over his shoulder.
Jake caught the ball when Kirk passed it to him, but Brent easily stole it from him, passed it back to Ethan, and the four boys went running again. "Jake clearly does too," Brent smirked just as Ethan passed the ball back to him.
Brent shot the ball into the basket, and Ethan made a face, despite that he and Brent were playing on the same team. "Too bad you play better at an unofficial practice, Brent."
"Shut up, man." Brent flipped his friend off and watched Kirk race to the other end of the court and go for a successful lay-up. Sighing, Brent stretched out on the hard floor. "I'm too tired for this."
Drinking from a bottle of blue Powerade, Jake plopped onto a bottom bleacher. "You're a pansy."
"We're all pansies," Ethan declared, looking very pissy about it. "Kirk's keys got us into the school, dude. Why are we not wrecking havoc? Senior prank time, guys. Seriously."
Since Kirk had returned to the side of the court where the others were gathered, all three guys murmured unintelligible responses to Ethan's proposal. "Too early in the year," Kirk said reasonably, starting to shoot foul shots. "We'd get benched from games and probably get freaking suspended."
"It's true," Jake agreed, stretching out on the bleachers. "Wait until April or May. Then I say we hire a stripper for the principal. Have her show up at graduation or something."
"Heck yeah!" Brent grinned. "Or hire strippers for all the graduating class."
Ethan tilted his head in thought. "Eh, maybe. But I've been waiting years to vandalize this place."
Laughing lightly, Kirk ran after the basketball and continued practicing, like the captain he was. "As if writing profanity on desks and lockers hasn't been your thing since freshman year…" Kirk paused and glared at Ethan suddenly. "Vandalize my gym, and I'll kick your ass."
Ethan waved his hand carelessly, and Kirk returned to shooting. As the ball swished through the net, something else caught Jake's attention—vibration from the cell phone where Kirk's car keys were laying on the bleachers. "You're vibrating, Godfrey," Jake announced, squinting to see the name on the caller id while Ethan muttered something perverted. "It's Mercedes."
Kirk tossed the ball at Ethan's head—narrowly missing contact—and moved to his phone. Smiling a little, he answered and walked across the gym to talk to her. Jake couldn't help watching curiously.
"Didn't they get together at Formal?" Ethan asked lazily.
Jake shrugged. "Something like that, maybe."
"I need a girlfriend," Brent groaned from the floor. "I'm bored. Who's available?"
Ignoring that, Ethan declared decidedly, "I need Hannah. She'd make a good girlfriend."
Jake's eyes snapped to his friend. "Not right now, dude. She's got a lot on her mind." There went his multiple personalities again. Normally, Jake would have said something negative about Hannah and about how Ethan deserved better, but… "What about Tisha, Ethan? She's almost all right."
Ethan wrinkled his nose. "Nah."
Kirk returned then and tossed his phone back on the bleachers. "Cedes says hey to you guys," he informed them as he went after the basketball again. He glanced at Jake. "She also said not to forget to go to something about student council, Jake. But I already forgot what."
Yawning, Jake answered, "Probably a meeting of some sort."
Suddenly releasing the ball into nothing but air, Kirk angled himself toward Jake again. "Why'd you and Mercedes break up, anyway? Weren't you together for like…how long?"
"A billion months," Ethan supplied helpfully.
Jake was quickly growing uncomfortable because of the subject, but he tried to hide it. "Almost a year." Jake shrugged and lied, "I guess we just got tired of each other or something."
Ethan laughed. "Who wouldn't after all that time?"
"She's a nice girl," Kirk stated cautiously, watching Jake. "I mean, I've only hung out with her a few times, but she's cool. You over her, Jake?"
"Uh-huh. We're just friends." Jake took a drink of his Powerade and assumed that Kirk was asking permission to go for Mercedes. So he granted it. "You guys would probably get along great."
"Oh yeah," Ethan agreed, taking out his cell phone and texting. "Mercedes is a great girl. She hasn't dated much since Jake either, has she?"
Nearly wincing, Jake resisted the urge of giving Ethan a dirty look but only because Kirk would probably question its significance. Ethan had the biggest mouth; he could make any awkward conversation ten times more awkward. But Jake supposed that Ethan really didn't know that he was making things bad.
"She hasn't." Kirk shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "That's why I figured I'd ask, Jake. You're really over each other?"
Jake sighed. "I can't answer for her, but yeah, I'm over it. That was back in the summer." He stood up and went after the forgotten basketball, eager to get away from Kirk's intense gaze and questioning.
Kirk glanced over at Brent, seeming suspicious of his silence. But then he apparently decided to drop the subject, for which Jake was grateful. He really hadn't expected the topic to bother him so much.
"You guys hungry?" Kirk asked. "I'm starving."
"Oh God, me too," Ethan answered instantly. "Anyone wanna hit Marion's? I'd kill for some pizza right now."
Kirk grinned. "That sounds great. How about you, Brent? Jake?"
Jake shook his head, lying to get away from Kirk for awhile. "Can't. I've got some other stuff to do."
"Brent?"
"Nah, I've got to get home and make sure that beastly mutt didn't tear up any more furniture before my mom gets home," Brent replied, speaking of that dreaded Christmas present. "If there's another pee spot on the rug in the dining room, I'm taking the dog to the pound."
Ethan cracked up. "Dude, Brent, I don't know why you got your mom a dog for Christmas. Especially a puppy. They're reckless!"
"If you kill that dog after we chased it for so long, I'll kill you," Jake threatened with a laugh.
"Whatever." Brent got up off the floor and started for the door. The other guys made to follow him out into the parking lot, where the sun was beginning to set. Kirk locked the gym's doors behind them.
"Oh man, I'm so hungry." Ethan all but ran to his car, which was parked by Kirk's on the curb. "Come on, Kirk! See you losers later."
Kirk said goodbye to Jake and Brent, and the two remaining guys stalked off to the middle of the parking lot, where they'd parked in their designated parking spots. Call it habit—or stupid, whichever is preferred. Jake fumbled w
ith his cell phone as he walked, texting a reply to Isaac's request to play video games. Since his mood was suffering a little, Jake told him that they'd play tomorrow instead.
"Do you want me to hit Godfrey?"
Taken aback, Jake stared at Brent's sudden question. That had sprung from nowhere. "What? No. Why?"
"For Cedes," Brent answered as though it should have been completely obvious. "Everybody knows that subject is off limits. At least I thought everybody did. I'll deflate his tires or something, dude. Yeah?"
"No."
Brent sighed. "What if he starts dating her? Then I can hit him? Oh, do you want the honor? I'll lie and say I didn't see you do it. I'll say he ran into a locker door or a cactus or something, and you had nothing to do with it."
Jake couldn't resist laughing a little at that. Brent was loyal to a fault, which Jake forgot sometimes. Maybe he could talk to Brent about his newfound split personalities. Or…maybe not. "No, man, seriously. If he makes Mercedes happy, then it's cool. I really am over her."
"Bullshit. And she's not over you either. Neither of you guys have dated since then, and that's proof that—"
"She asked me to hook her up with Kirk, Brent." Jake shrugged and stopped when he reached his truck's parking space. "And I don't care. Really. We're better off as friends."
"Then I'm finding you a girlfriend." Brent paused and grinned. "Right after I find myself one. Or hey, Mollie's New Year's party is in a few days. We'll both find new chicks then. Okay?"
"Like who?" Jake asked, but only because he didn't want to admit that he still didn't feel like dating. "We know all the girls around here. All the girls we know will be at that party. That's not really new."
"You wanna drive down to the ghetto? We'll find new girls there."
Laughing, Jake shook his head and unlocked his truck's door. "No, I think I'm good. But I do think that you should talk to Tisha at Mollie's party. You or Ethan, I don't care. She's pretty nice."
Brent looked confused. "What's with your Tisha-kick? I didn't think you liked her. Don't we hate Hannah Ayers and all that surrounds Hannah Ayers?"
Jake raised a shoulder in response. "I dunno, Brent…I really don't."
