The Apocalypse

by Jack Parker

  Jake was suddenly aware of the tension in his shoulders and of the defensiveness he felt. Oh no, his multiple personalities were kicking in again. He inhaled slowly and let his shoulders relax as he exhaled. It was unbelievable that he'd gotten an attitude over someone insulting Hannah Ayers. What was this, the twilight zone?

  "I think I'll go say hi to Hannah," Ethan commented slowly, oozing with awkwardness. "She'll dance with me." He stood and shifted his weight somewhat nervously. "Uh, I'll catch up with you guys later."

  Neither Jake nor Brent answered. Instead, Brent continued staring at Jake, while Jake avoided looking over at him. If there was anyone who knew Jake very well, it was Brent, and if Brent suspected something about Jake's defensiveness, a glance from Jake would confirm or deny anything that Brent thought. Unless, of course, Jake was just being paranoid.

  Great. Multiple personalities and paranoia. It was time to call Dr. Phil.

  "You gonna go with Ethan and see Hannah too?"

  Jake gritted his teeth and focused his gaze on the throng of people dancing. "Why would I do that? This is the one time she's not smothering me. I'd like to keep it that way, man."

  "Uh-huh…" Surged with immediate annoyance, Jake jerked his head in Brent's direction, ready to glare at him, but he forced himself to look natural, given that Brent would otherwise sense that something was up. "Well, she looks good tonight. I'll definitely say that for her."

  Jake scoffed. "Hannah? Looks good? Sure."

  "Check her out for yourself. She's on her way over here."

  Against his will, Jake felt his eyes widen in a panic, but he quickly calmed himself. Hannah was on her way over? To him? It took all of his might to refrain from gulping—and running far, far away. But then just as quickly as his panic set in, Jake's body eased into comfort. Why get uptight over Hannah? He was losing the last fragments of his fragile mind.

  Hannah suddenly appeared in front of the couch that Jake and Brent were occupying, and a bright smile lit up her face. "Hey, Jake. Brent."

  "Hey, Hannah," Brent muttered back. Jake barely grunted, preferring instead to ice her out. And yet he couldn't figure out why. He figured he should probably add mood stabilizers to the list of things that he needed because mood swings were becoming all too frequent for him.

  From the corner of his eye, Jake saw Hannah tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you guys having fun?"

  "No, but I'm about to be," Brent answered, standing up suddenly. Jake snapped his head up, determined to find out why his friend was bailing on him. It wasn't hard to see, since half of the cheerleading squad had just walked in the door: hormones. Jake almost chuckled to himself at how predictable Brent was.

  "What about you?"

  Jake almost jumped. Without him knowing it, Hannah had moved into the space that Brent had just deserted. "Not really," he answered, though his voice sounded foreign and far away to him. "I'm tired."

  Hannah leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. Oh God, Jake thought; that meant she was planning on staying there with him. His interest in spending time with her had depreciated greatly since she'd kissed him. Yeah, so he'd made Hannah go out to eat with him the day after the kiss, but he'd only done that because he knew that if he'd avoided her, it would be impossible to face her. The easiest way to get on with everything was to get it over with and suck it up. But he hadn't seen her in a couple days…and now, since remembering the kiss, the awkwardness was settling in.

  Now Jake would have had to admit that it was a good kiss, if those lips had belonged to anyone else. But he was unquestionably biased since they had been Hannah's. Still, he could have brushed off being kissed by even her if he hadn't kissed her back. The fact that he'd returned her kiss scared Jake. The fact that he'd returned her kiss made Jake feel uncomfortable and uncertain every time that he was around her now. The fact that he'd returned her kiss…well, it had to mean that something was wrong with him, right? Something else in addition to his multiple personalities and paranoia. Or did that just make him more paranoid?

  If Jake had needed any more reason to question his sanity—and he doubted that he did—he received it at that very moment, when his mind went spiraling back to August, just before school started.

  "I love you."

  The words had rolled so smoothly off of Jake's tongue that late summer night. He and Mercedes had been at a bonfire party, but they'd taken a walk for some alone time. Mercedes had been more beautiful than ever that night, and when Jake had kissed her, the words flowed out so genuinely that he knew they were true.

  The reaction from his girlfriend was nothing less than disappointing. Mercedes had argued with him, denied that there was any truth in the statement, and Jake had been left thoroughly confused. No, Mercedes had insisted that Jake was crazy about Hannah Ayers, and the idea had been so absurd to him that they'd ended up fighting and going home separately not long afterwards.

  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. M
ercedes 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?"

  Another pause came, this one longer. "I think you should calm down," Hannah said slowly. Her voice was still quiet, and it bothered Jake more than he wanted to admit. "I'm fine."

  Jake sighed deeply, trying hard to calm himself. It worked surprisingly well, and he hoped it wasn't because he'd been assured that she was okay. "Why'd you leave?" he questioned, his voice softer this time. "I would've gladly left too."

  It seemed like Jake could hear Hannah swallow. "I just got really bored. And it looked like you were enjoying yourself, so I didn't want to bother you."

  "Nah…" Jake fell silent then, as did Hannah, but it was a peaceful silence, or at least that's how Jake would have described it. "I'm about to head out now, actually. It's getting wild."

  "Have you been drinking, Jake? I'll come get you if you have."

  Jake thought about it. He had drunk a little earlier but not nearly enough to even give himself a buzz. "I'm good. Thanks though." He yawned and then frowned. "How'd you say you got home?"

  "I didn't."

  His frown deepened. "You didn't get home or you didn't say?"

  "I didn't say," Hannah clarified. "Don't ask me again."

  Jake groaned. "Aw man, you had that dumbass take you home, didn't you? God, Hannah… Hudson?"

  "Greg?" Hannah asked, shocked. "No. Why would you think that?"

  "Well, you don't want to tell me, and you know I can't stand him," Jake reasoned, baffled by the ease at which his words came out of his mouth. "Of course I'd be pissed if he took you home."