Page 79 of Heart So Hollow

The black tube of Maple Sun with the gold band is standing on end next to two bottles of perfume, like it belonged there all along.

My eyes dart from the dresser, to the hallway, to the bed, and back to the lipstick.

Another split-second decision.

I snatch the lipstick off the dresser and lunge toward the far side of the bed, falling to my hands and knees between the bed and the wall. Collapsing to my stomach, I shimmy under the bed, taking refuge alongside a lone sock that looks as though it hasn’t been missed in months. Making myself as thin as possible, I peer beneath the bed skirt, relieved to have bought some time.

But I’m still trapped under Hannah’s bed. I can’t stay here much longer, lest I be discovered and set off a horrifying chain of events. And besides that, I have to get home. If I can’t escape for a long time, dealing with that explanation will be just as awkward.

Feeling the vibrations of Hannah’s footsteps coming down the hall, I take a breath and freeze. The shadows of her feet appear on the carpet and stop at the edge of the bed as she switches on the bedside lamp, letting the warm glow flood the room. Can she hear my heartbeat? It sounds like someone is pounding on the door. I flinch as I feel the mattress and bed frame shift above me with her body weight.

Are you kidding me?

She can’t be going to bed, at least not this minute. I wait and listen.

“Hey.”

A bolt of terror shoots through my heart and, for an instant, I truly think Hannah’s talking to me, calling me out in the creepiest way possible because she is a total creep. Then I hear her speak again.

“Just got home…”

Thank God, she’s on the phone. I could die of relief right here. But I still need to get out of here—immediately.

“I thought I’d be back earlier, but I stayed for dinner, so I didn’t leave until four…Good, missed talking to you…What are you doing?”

I raise an eyebrow. Maybe she patched up things with her stale boy toy, after all.

“You could stop by…”

No, you could not stop by. Because there’s another creepy woman in this apartment who’s hiding under the bed and needs to get the fuck out of here!

What’s more, if Hannah’s back together with her boyfriend and he comes over and I have to covertly witness anything that follows, I’ll absolutely vomit and then die.

I glare at the box spring creaking above me.

Hannah sighs, “Fine, guess I’ll just see you at Hildy’s…”

Hannah’s silent for a good minute or so. I can hear the deep, muffled, male voice on the other end of the call, but not enough to make out any words. All I know is that he has a lot to say.

“What? I have no idea,” Hannah chuckles. “For real…Yeah, that’s weird…Well, you don’t throw anything away. I should know…”

A moment later, her laughter fades and she goes silent. The distant voice on her phone continues to speak and the box spring creaks as Hannah shifts her weight. My eyes dart to the edge of the bed skirt as her feet appear on the carpet.

“That’s not what I meant,” she scoffs.

The voice keeps going, speaking faster, and even from my cramped hiding place, I can tell the tone of the conversation has changed, and not in a good way.

“But—”

The voice cuts her off.

“I told you, I don’t know. Why are you—”

Whoever she’s talking to isn’t having any of it. Listening intently, all I can pick up are intermittent exhales of frustration, false starts, and uncomfortable shifts on the mattress. A set of tiny feet appear next to Hannah’s as Marco sniffs the carpet and rubs his cheek against her calf.

“I have always been there for you!” Hannah explodes, making me flinch and Marco cower.

“I drop everything to help you,” Hannah’s voice switches from angry to frantic, almost apologetic. “You know I wouldn’t do that. I care about you more than anyone and—”

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