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Hannah sits down on her bed across from me, placing the present beside her without opening it. “You’re drunk,” she says.
“Yeah.” I duck my head. She’s pissed. No point lying to her.
“What happened to your face?”
I sniff. “Joel West.”
“Huh.” Hannah stares at the ground near my feet. “So, why are you here?”
Pushing myself off the floor, I take a step towards her, but she flinches, so I move over to sit at her desk. Needing some time to think about what I’m going to say, my gaze roams around her bedroom. The massive bookshelf, chock full of every book she’s ever owned; the polaroid pictures of Ashley, me and other friends covering her wardrobe door; her pink teddy bear she was given as a baby laying on her rumpled purple and navy bedsheets. I squeeze my eyes shut. I’ve been such an arse to her since my birthday. How do I make this up to her?
The room is completely silent as she waits for me to say something. When I open my eyes, she’s staring at me, her arms crossed.
“Uh, I just wanted…” Sighing, I blurt out, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She blinks back tears. “For kissing me? Freezing me out?” She cocks her head. “Could it be for not believing me when I tried to warn you about Sarah? Or for missing my eighteenth birthday? Have I left anything out?”
Ouch.“I–”
She raises her hand to stop me. “We’ve been friends for thirteen years, Oli, and I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve hurt me in that time. But in the last couple of months you’ve done nothingbuthurt me.” She sniffs and it slices through my heart. “I know you went through a lot with the car accident and… and losing your dad, but I tried to be there for you, only to have you throw it all back in my face.”
“Han, I–”
“The worst thing,” she continues, as if I haven’t spoken, swiping angrily at the stray tears slipping down her cheek. “Is that I was there for you, and you threw it back in my face. What kind of best friend does that?”
Shit. I’m a real asshole. What can I even say to fix it?I squeeze my eyes shut, the pain from my nose is making it hard to concentrate on what I want to say.
Hannah sighs. “I don’t even know…”
I open my eyes in time to see her stand up and make her way over to the door.
“Wait,” I choke out.
She pauses with her hand on the doorknob. “I’m getting a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you up.”
“Oh.”
While she’s gone, I pick up the framed picture of us off her desk. It was taken on a family camping trip last summer – right before we’d gone on a two-hour bike ride around the lake. After stopping for a swim, we were on our way back to the campsite when Hannah’s towel had fallen off her handlebars into the spokes of her bike, and she went flying off. I watched while she skidded along the ground, losing half the skin on the right side of her body. I wet the offending towel, cleaned her up, and we walked the rest of the way back to the campsite. My dad had driven her into the nearest town to get bandaged up, but she was in so much pain we had to end our trip early. She felt so bad she’d convinced our parents to let us camp out in her backyard for the rest of the weekend.
Hannah closes the door behind her quietly, making her way across the room to where I’m sitting. She hesitates before reaching up to softly run the cool wet cloth across my face. Her other hand rests gently on my cheek as she tries not to hurt me. My skin burns up at her touch, and I take a couple of deep breaths.
“Jake drove me here.”
Her hand freezes as she takes in the meaning behind my words. It’s the first time I’ve been in a car since the accident, and she knows it.
“The only thing I thought about on the way here was how much I needed to see you.”
Her hand shakes slightly –or am I just imagining that?– as she wipes the dried blood from my face. I wince as my nose starts to throb. She passes me a glass of water and two Panadol, which I swallow down gratefully.
Reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair behind her ear, I stare into her sad green eyes. “Han, I’ve been an absolute asshole to you, and I have a lot of making up to do. But I want you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me since…” I swallow. “Since my dad… uh… since the accident.”
She tries to move away, but I grab her hand, keeping her in front of me. She needs to hear what I have to say.
“The reason I pushed you away is because I was scared of losing you. After we kissed, I realised just how much you mean to me, and it confused me. You’ve been my best friend for so long, and I didn’t wanna ruin that.”
“But you did,” she mutters, staring at the floor.
I groan. “Yeah, I did.”
