AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shorty approaches, and when I hand the beer to her, she suspiciously sniffs the contents. A thought dawns on me.
“You’ve really never drank before?”
Only when the words are out, do I realize how condescending they sound.
“Nope. Never got the urge. Don’t really have it now either, but”—she shrugs—“it’s here. I’ll try it.” With that unenthusiastic declaration, she takes a swig.
Then, she immediately spits it out.
In my face.
“Ugh! What the—oh my God! Nathan, I’m so sorry!”
Stunned, I haven’t moved. Instead, I just let the mixture of beer and spit drip from my cheeks. I don’t even know what to do.
The caress of something soft and dry wiping over my face brings me back to life, and I reach up to find Hannah grabbed a kitchen towel to clean me off.
“I swear, I didn’t plan that. Only, if you’re going to try to make me do something illegal, you could’ve at least made it taste good.”
That does it. I snatch the towel out of her hand and bury my face in it. The noise I make is only slightly muffled by the fabric.
“Are you …” She hesitates over her question. “Are you crying?”
Hannah’s worried tone only makes me howl all the more. It’s too much. I collapse against the wall, letting the towel fall away so she can see that I’m barely breathing from laughter.
Through my tears, I watch her eyes narrow and the corners of her mouth twitch.
“You are”—I don’t think I’ll be able to finish the thought as I choke on my own breath, but I force the last word out—“amazing.”
That gets her full grin and a nonchalant shrug. “Well, yeah. Duh.”
I have to leave the room, partly because that’s the only way I’ll recover from my hysterics, but also because I need to put on a clean shirt. When I come back, my breath is under control, and Hannah is sitting on the couch while she unties her sneakers.
“Okay. So, what do you actually want to drink? I think we’ve got some soda, and there’s always water.” When I grab the fridge handle, I realize she’s followed me into the kitchen, her bare feet not making any noise on our creaky, old floor.
“Do you have any milk?”
“Milk? Um, yeah. Whole okay?”
Bobby, my roommate, drinks it for the protein content, apparently.
“Perfect. My mom just sent me a fresh bag of hot chocolate mix.”
I expect her to be holding one of those individual Swiss Miss servings from a box. Instead, Hannah clutches a gallon-sized ziplock full of an unlabeled brown powder.
“Your mom sent you that?”
She nods while pulling open cabinets like she lives here. I realize I don’t mind her heavy-handed ways.
“Need help finding something?”
“Yeah, I—never mind! Here we go.” From one of the shelves, Hannah pulls down a saucepan I’m not sure Bobby or I have ever used. Probably realizing this, she rinses the thing off before placing the pan on the stovetop. Reaching over to grab the milk out of my hand, she raises a single eyebrow. “You want some too? There’s plenty.”
“Sure.” Fascinated, I watch her bring the milk to a boil before using a spoon to scoop a generous amount of the brown powder into the pot. The mixture becomes a thick, dark chocolate color that clings to the spoon as she stirs it.
“Mugs?” Her question pulls me out of my hypnotized state.
Once everything is poured, Hannah holds hers up to her nose, drawing in a deep sniff of the cocoa. I blow on mine once before taking a sip.
