Page 64 of Hannah.

“Of course,” I reply, my voice smooth but hollow, masking the dissonance within.

She leans in and kisses me, a gesture fraught with longing and despair. I let her, returning the kiss, my own movements stiff and awkward.

This is just temporary, I remind myself.On Monday, we are ending this.

Astrid pulls away first, offering a faint, strained smile. “Okay. See you Monday.” Her voice is a whisper, almost lost amidst the sounds of the night.

She hops out of the car, and I watch her unlock the door and slip inside, her figure a shadow retreating from the light. Once she’s safely behind closed doors, I rest my head on the steering wheel, the cool leather a minor relief against the fever pitch of my thoughts.

Monday is going to suck.

But this weekend...oh, this weekend will be magic.

As I drive away, the promise of what’s to come battles with the guilt of what I’m leaving behind. Each mile takes me further from Astrid and closer to Hannah, leaving me tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

18

Hannah

The knockon my door isn’t loud but makes enough noise to startle me out of my reading. I’ve been lying in bed reviewing some study material for class, and it's getting late.

“Hey, it's me.”

Since I was expecting her after her call a few minutes ago, I climb out of bed and walk to the door, pulling it open. On the other side is Astrid, dressed like she's been out somewhere nice but with her face red like she's been crying.

Oh no. What could this be about?

Her bottom lip quivers, and before I can react, she wraps her arms around me and sniffles into my shoulder. I instinctively reach up to pat her back. “Astrid, what's wrong?”

“It’s Johan,” she tells me, her voice muffled by my sweatshirt. My stomach sinks, but somehow, I already knew this was what it must be about. There's nothing else I can think of that would upset her so much.

I usher her inside, shutting the door behind her and guiding her to sit on the bed. After retrieving some tissues for her, I sinkinto the computer chair across from her and wait for her to dab at her eyes.

“What happened?”

“He…” She blots at her nose with the tissue. “Well, let me start from the beginning. We went to have dinner at his parents’ home this evening.”

“At his parents’ home?” I ask, shock evident in my tone. “On a weekday?”

“Yeah, their home is just an hour’s drive from here, so sometimes we go there and have dinner. My parents were there, too. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Everything was fine, but after we ate, Johan went out and talked to his dad forever. And then when he came back, he seemed...off somehow? Reserved?”

Confused, I ask, “Is that all?”

She shakes her head, blond hair flying. “Oh, no. We drive home, and since it's a long drive, we talk like normal. But then I stupidly…God, I’m so stupid! Of course, I maneuvered us to the subject of getting more serious, taking our relationship to the next level...and as you can expect, he wasn't thrilled with that topic.”

I feel like I might be sick. The memory of being alone with Johan in his bed, his lips on mine, collides with the images from Astrid’s story, blurring together in a confusing mess. The fact that Johan took Astrid to dinner the same day he sent me roses was unsettling enough, but now he’s hurt her so badly that she’s come to me in tears. What on earth was he thinking? Why couldn’t he just keep a low profile until after the weekend?

I fumble for the right questions, trying to find the space between what I want from Johan and what he has done to her. “I thought the two of you decided you were okay being casual?”

Astrid is plucking at the threads of my comforter, looking distraught. “I know I did. I should’ve left it at that, but dinner went so nicely, and having both our parents there made it feelspecial. They are such good friends, and they clearly expect something to come from the two of us. It just feels right. Our lives fit together so well. So I just...threw caution to the wind and asked him. It was a mistake.”

“What did he say?” My heart is in my throat, waiting for her answer. What if he told her there was a chance or to wait longer? Surely, he wouldn't tell her about the two of us, or she'd already be screaming at me. But there might be no better time for him to let her down gently.

“He...he basically told me that we're never going to be serious and that I just have to get over it, and he even tried to put an end to everything going on between us.” Her voice rises the more upset she becomes. “If he doesn’t see any future between us, why did he invite me to dinner? Why does he keep spending time with me?”

I wish I could tell her the truth, that I pushed him into her arms when he wanted to break up with her because of how guilty I felt. But it's not like I can tell her that Johan and I were minutes from hooking up or that we've both admitted to having some feelings for each other. Astrid is my friend, and she came to me for help! I’ve never felt lower in my entire life.

“I’m sorry, Astrid. You didn't deserve that.”

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