The Apocalypse (10 page)

With a cocky laugh, Ethan shrugged. "Well, you know. All I had to do was show him the guns." Ethan promptly raised his right arm and flexed his bicep. "We can't have reckless drivers hanging around to terrorize their victims."

It seemed as though Hannah was about to respond, but she must have changed her mind, for she focused her blue eyes ahead, watching where she was going. Since she wasn't looking, Ethan tried to get Jake's attention, but Jake just shook his head. He'd wait until after school to complain about Hannah's state of mind. Finally, they reached the cafeteria, and Ethan and Jake, with Hannah still in tow, walked toward the guys' normal table. Jake had to suppress a scowl over Hannah seeming to believe she could sit with the guys. She had her own friends to sit with, and he was going to make sure she knew that she was sitting with the girls.

Jake's thoughts were in vain, however. After going through the lunch line, Hannah followed Jake—or, really, Ethan, since he was the one talking to her—back to the guys' regular table. Frowning, Jake sat as far away as possible from Hannah, but she still ended up only one seat away from him, with Ethan separating them.

"So how were your classes, Hannah?" Brent asked her as he bit into his ham and cheese hoagie. He'd apparently missed Jake's signal not to talk to her, which should have been unnecessary since Brent wasn't a big fan of Hannah's anyway. "Have any trouble?"

Hannah shrugged and tipped her milk carton back and forth, apparently sloshing the liquid around. "I have no idea what's going on in any of my classes. If that's trouble, then I've got plenty."

"Darling, I'll give you any assistance that you need," Ethan promised, slipping an arm around Hannah's shoulders. As Jake was rolling his eyes, he thought he glimpsed Hannah wince and recalled her wounded shoulder. "You just let me know, and I'll do whatever I can."

Brent's brow furrowed. "Do you guys even have any classes together?"

"No," Ethan answered simply as he crammed a whole Dorito into his mouth. "But I'm great at moral support."

"I'm sure," Jake commented flatly, knowing Ethan just wanted an excuse to spend time with Hannah—something that Jake couldn't fathom wanting. He stared at the pizza on his tray, feeling as though Hannah's presence suffocated his appetite. Suddenly curious, he glanced at a table not too far away and saw that Hannah's friends were all eyeing his table. Of course they were. They liked Hannah. And they could have Hannah as far as Jake was concerned.

"Well, we've got seventh period together," Brent was saying when Jake zoned back into the conversation.
Oh God,
Jake thought, realizing he was still acknowledging Hannah and having a dreadful feeling about where this was going. "So I could try to help you there. And you've got—how many classes do you have with Jake?"

"Three," Hannah answered, nibbling on a French fry. She glanced at Jake and gave him
a
small smile. "Will you study with me, Jake?"

I'd rather be whipped with a cat of nine tails.
Jake's smile was grim, but he couldn't think of a nice way to reject her, so he simply shrugged, vowing mentally to find someone else to dump Hannah on. It was incredible to even believe that Hannah Ayers had the audacity to ask Jake for help.

"So that's most of your classes covered," Brent stated helpfully. Jake knew that Brent wasn't overly fond of Hannah, so it must have been sympathy and pity compelling him to help her out. Jake figured he must be heartless, since he'd have to be forced into helping her.

Ethan cocked his head to the side and grinned at Hannah. "You should let me take you to Winter Formal," he declared with a smile. "You're not still going with Hudson, are you?"

Relatively curious about that himself, Jake actually looked up to see Hannah's brow furrowed. He hadn't heard her say anything negative about her boyfriend or possibly ex-boyfriend, Greg, and, for the old Hannah, that would have meant she didn't have a problem with him. But this new Hannah…she was weird, and she might not declare the rage that she felt.

"I haven't talked to him about it," Hannah answered simply.

Ethan stared at Hannah, clearly expecting her to continue, but when she didn't, he prompted, "You're going to tell him that you won't go with him, right? Hudson doesn't deserve to take you."

"He didn't really do anything wrong," Brent countered, despite the fact that he didn't personally like Greg Hudson either. "I mean, ice is kind of hard to miss, so he can't be hated for that." Brent paused and stole an almost considerate glance at Hannah. "Unless you want to hate him. Hey, if you want to hate him, hate his guts with a passion. I don't care."

Smiling, Hannah made a noise that sounded strangely like a laugh, much to Jake's surprise. Looking up from his pizza, he looked at Hannah with his classic smirk, but it disappeared in wake of his surprise that Hannah was looking directly at him.

"What's your opinion, Jake?" Hannah asked, further taking Jake aback. She glanced around the table, and her smile widened. "I've got one saying I should hate Greg—two, if you count Isaac—and one straddling the fence. Are you going to even it out, Jake? Should I hate Greg?"

Studying Hannah lengthily as he slowly chewed his pizza with a crooked expression, Jake finally shrugged. "I've never liked that jackass. He's weird."

"He's a pansy," Ethan scoffed, slamming his palm against the tabletop. "He's a brainy nerd, and he can't even throw a football."

"I don't think he even knows when football season is." Brent, well-known for being a huge jock, looked disgusted. "He's not a normal male."

Pensively, Hannah tipped her head. "Is it a requirement for guys to like football or something? Why is that so important?"

Brent shrugged. "He doesn't like any sport."

"And you're the only girl that's ever dated him," Jake smirked. Had Hannah been herself, Jake would have added something insulting about how Greg Hudson couldn't even pick a decent girlfriend, but he opted not to.

"Well, if I dated him, I obviously liked him," Hannah reasoned slowly.

"No, you didn't, babe." Ethan patted Hannah's forearm reassuringly, smiling at her sweetly. "You've always had a thing for me. Let me take you to Winter Formal. I promise you'll love me even more by the end of it."

The bell signaling the end of lunch sounded as Ethan was talking, and the masses of the cafeteria immediately started fanning out to get to their next classes. "I'll think about it, okay?" Hannah promised as she returned Ethan's smile.

Jake and Brent exchanged incredulous expressions, and even Ethan looked pleasantly surprised. Hannah had never given Ethan the time of day. "Seriously?" Ethan questioned, getting to his feet along with the others. "Man, Hannah, you've made my day."

Collecting his stuff, Jake watched as Ethan impulsively planted a kiss on Hannah's cheek. Jake rolled his eyes and nudged Hannah gently. "Come on. We've got fifth period together, and I'm not being late just so you can flirt with Romeo."

During fifth period, Jake had nearly come unglued with his Calculus teacher suggested that he tutor Hannah. Mr. Hayes had done it in private, so Jake had been able to outright refuse, citing his long-lasting war with Hannah. Although Mr. Hayes had understood that, he seemed disappointed by Jake's answer and had proceeded to give him a lecture, which had just angered Jake more. In fact, his anger remained for the duration of his last two classes.

Just when it seemed like Jake's day couldn't get any worse, he saw two of Hannah's best friends approaching after his final class of the day, and boy, did they look pissed. Tisha Wilson and Libby Heatherly were both glaring at him as they stopped at his locker, their arms folded over their chests. From experience, Jake knew that the only way to deal with these two girls was to piss them off more; if he tried to reason with them, they'd stay longer, but if he could infuriate Tisha and Libby, they'd leave him alone. And alone was what he wanted.

"What the hell are you trying to pull with Hannah?" Libby demanded, her blue eyes glowering. "You two
hate
each other. Why are you pretending to be Mr. Nice Guy all of a sudden?"

Sighing, Jake leaned down and picked up a book from the bottom of his locker. "I'm not trying to be Mr. Nice Guy, and I'm not pulling anything, okay?" He straightened and met Libby's eyes. "Hannah's got issues, and since I've known her forever, it feels a little cold to shun her."

"It never stopped you before," Tisha pointed out. She ran a hand through her light brown hair, looking confused. "Haven't you told her that she's supposed to hate you, Jake? You can't let her
not
hate you."

Jake shrugged. "I'm not letting her do anything. Hannah does what she wants."

Libby's eyes narrowed. "But if she knew how you treated her, she wouldn't want anything to do with you. You better tell her."

"Yeah," Tisha agreed with a frown. "How do we know you aren't trying to get in her pants or something?"

Tipping his head back, Jake laughed. "Me, in Ayers's pants? Are you kidding me?" He laughed more, shaking his head lightly. The thought had never and would never cross his mind, especially considering the friendship between his mother and Hannah's. "Girls, come on. Hannah may not know it, but I'm still the coldhearted bastard who can't
stand
her. So if you'll excuse me—"

"No," Libby snapped. "Promise us that you'll tell her the truth."

Tisha nodded eagerly. "Yeah, Jake. Hannah deserves that."

Silently, Jake studied the two girls for several seconds. No wonder Hannah was annoyed with them; they were persistent. "Look," he began finally, "I can't just tell Hannah that I hate her, all right? It'll confuse her or something, and even though I don't give a damn about her, it'd hurt her mother, and then my mom would kill me." Jake closed his locker easily and shook his head. "So out of the goodness of my heart, I'm going to tolerate Hannah, whether you two like it or not. If you want her to know, you can tell her yourselves."

Tisha and Libby exchanged glances, and when Jake thought they were finally going to drop the subject, Tisha threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "Aww, Jake, I didn't know you were so sweet!" she gushed. "You're looking out for Hannah for real!"

Libby rolled her eyes. "No, he's not. He's looking out for his own hide but whatever." She pulled Tisha away from Jake, who was grateful, and gave him
a
stern nod. "We won't
tell
Han, but I swear to God, Jake, if you hurt her, you'll be dealing with us."

"Yeah," Tisha said challengingly, even though Jake thought the expression on her face was sappy. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. You'll have us all on your case."

"Great," Jake said dismissively, smirk in place. "Can I get to basketball practice now?"

Since it was a rhetorical question, Jake stepped around the two girls and started down the hall. He started to stop and tell them to drive Hannah home so that she wouldn't have to wait for practice to end, but, if he did that, it would start a negotiation. Then Jake would have to listen to them, and he didn't have time for that. A scorned woman may be rough to deal with, but so was his coach if he was late for practice.

Hannah padded around her bedroom in her white cotton socks, moving from her desk to her bed. She flung herself down onto her stomach and scowled at her numerous textbooks. Of course being in advance placement classes meant that Hannah had a heavy workload, and with a heavy workload came a hefty amount of homework. Homework that Hannah didn't understand, which just made matters worse. She had just begun to contemplate a strategy for studying when there was a knock on her door. Almost grateful for a distraction, Hannah called, "It's open."

The door swung open slightly, and Patricia Ayers stuck her head in, wearing a soft smile. "Hi, honey. How was your first day back at school?"

A barely audible sigh passed between Hannah's lips as she shrugged her shoulders carefully. "It was okay, I guess."