The Apocalypse (23 page)

"Nah, I'm not too hungry just yet," Jake answered, sitting at the table. "But I'll take some brandy if you can spare some."

Shirley rolled her eyes at Jake's light coughing and poured some orange juice into a glass. "You're a little underage. And you shouldn't
drink
on an empty stomach." She passed the glass to him and smiled at his thanks. "Hannah's not much of a drinker, is she?"

Jake shrugged, sipping from his juice. "I wouldn't know. We don't hang out too much."

"Exactly." Shirley sat down beside Jake, and the inquisitive look on her face made Jake want to fidget. Uh-oh. Something was up. "You two never did get along that well. That's why it's interesting that you're so…friendly now."

While he probably should have been embarrassed or something, Jake just shrugged again, at least making him
look
carefree. He'd expected this conversation from the very beginning, ever since Tisha and Libby had cornered him about his treatment of Hannah, but no one had seemed to care that he wasn't expressing his hatred for Hannah anymore. If Jake had witnessed someone have a change of conduct around an enemy, he would have been suspicious, but, apparently, he was the only one that sensed peculiarity. Or he had been till now.

"So." Shirley raised her eyebrows and gripped her mug of coffee. "Feel like letting me in on whatever you're planning? Hannah's my granddaughter, and it worries me when you guys aren't yelling at each other."

"I'm not planning anything," Jake said genuinely, resisting the urge to smile. He leaned back in his chair easily, amused by such blunt honesty; the world needed more of it. "It just doesn't seem fair to insult her when she doesn't have anything to throw up in my face, you know? It'd be like kicking a kitten."

"It's always nice to hear you compare my Hannah to an animal." Shirley rolled her eyes and smiled. "It's actually comforting. But you do have a plan, obviously. To make her more comfortable or to be nice to her or…or what?"

Jake blinked. "I usually just try to avoid her as much as possible."

"Jake." Shirley shook her head, and Jake suspected that she was amused, no matter how much she seemed to be trying to deny it to herself. "You can't straddle the fence," she said finally, firmly. "Either you're on Hannah's side, or you're not. Now I've seen you be nice to her—you slept on her for God's sake—but you say you avoid her. Now if—"

"What do you think Dr. Phil would say about it? Maybe he'll do a television special if we call him."

"I hate that man," Shirley declared through gritted teeth. "Stop trying to get me sidetracked. It's too easy." She sighed and studied Jake, making him shift more.

He reached down casually to massage his left calf muscle; it'd felt a little off since yesterday, after Brent called him about the dog—that stupid mutt that Brent and his siblings had bought their mom for Christmas that had escaped; Jake and his friends had chased that dumb dog around the block at least nine times, and it'd made him late for Christmas Eve dinner. Maybe he'd strained the muscle.

"I think it's obvious to everyone but you."

Jake's forehead wrinkled when he looked up from his leg and at Shirley. "Excuse me?" He took a drink from his juice, not sure what else to do. "I think you're still drunk. What are you talking about?"

"I do
not
get drunk!" Shirley wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I'm talking about Hannah. You're the only one who doesn't see how much she admires you, how much she looks to you for guidance. I think she's absolutely crazy about you. Regardless though, you have more influence on her than you realize."

"Do people hallucinate when they're in severely drunken states?"

Shirley scowled and swatted at Jake in annoyance. "You be serious, or I'll ship you back across the street to your nitwit grandparents." Jake straightened in his chair agreeably, since he didn't doubt the seriousness of her threat. Shirley studied him lengthily. "How much bribery would one have to do to help you notice how Hannah acts around you?"

"Now you sound like Isaac." Jake rolled his shoulders, working the kinks out of them from sleeping on them oddly. "He says—"

"He's a smart kid." Shirley took a sip from her coffee cup and frowned. "I'm serious, Jake. Hannah admires you. I'd be willing to bet that whatever you say to her…she considers it greatly."

Jake almost smiled. "Would you bet your brandy on it?"

"You couldn't prove me wrong if I did." Shirley laughed for just a second and then leaned toward Jake seriously. "Hannah needs you. And I need you to help Hannah. At least think about it. If you really tried to help her, I know that she could remember. You could help her find herself again."

Highly uncomfortable, Jake picked up his orange juice glass and drank from it slowly, wasting as much time as he could. It was way too early for a lecture, which was one of the reasons that he wasn't going home where his grandparents were. But Hannah's grandmother wasn't giving him the break he'd expected. In fact, he had half the mind to tell her off for suggesting that he—that he what? Hadn't he already tolerated Hannah as graciously as he could? He'd been nicer to her than he ever had been in his entire life. What more could he do?

"So…what you're saying is… What the heck
are
you saying?" Jake frowned in his bemusement. "How am I supposed to help her out? I don't know all that much about her. Like you said, we didn't get along."

Shirley smiled. "Just…talk to her friends. Find out everything you can about Hannah. Then help her find it out too." She paused then and seemed to be reconsidering. "Just don't…mold her to your will. Don't make her who you'd want her to be."

Newly pensive, Jake's eyes went to the kitchen tabletop. He wasn't too sure that Shirley was correct, but if she was…and if Hannah got her memory back…Jake could have his life back. There would be no more babysitting Hannah or even putting up with her outside of family functions. That was enough motivation right there for Jake to collect funds for experimentation on amnesia recovery.

"Hannah!"

Following Shirley's gaze lazily, Jake glanced behind him, where Hannah was squinting in the light and rubbing at her neck. "Hi," she murmured sleepily. "Merry Christmas." Without hesitation, Hannah sat beside Jake as Shirley got her a glass of orange juice as well. "What time is it?"

"Apparently late enough for the dead to wake, from the looks of you," Jake quipped, smirk in place. Though doubtful that his usual meanness would help Hannah out much, he couldn't resist. Who could be for sure that some cruelty wouldn't trigger her memory? As a wise person once said…don't knock it until you try it. That said, Jake could at least test it out.

Hannah returned his smirk tiredly. "I appreciate that."

"No problem." Jake stole
a
glance at Hannah and watched her take a long drink of juice. Eyeliner from the previous day was smudged on her left eyelid, while her right eye was lacking almost all of the previous day's makeup; it was nearly comical. In fact, if Shirley hadn't been in the room, Jake would have let the insults fly from the tip of his tongue. Instead, he questioned as politely as he knew how, "Where's that Christmas present you promised me?"

"I gave it away. To someone more deserving."

"More deserving? Than
me
?" Scoffing, Jake rolled his eyes. "I take that to mean that you're talking about Hudson. Let me guess—you've lost your senses and think he's better than me. Unless you finally fell for Ethan after Formal. I guess you found a muzzle after all? He's the only one who could need it more than me."

Hannah didn't respond, and when Jake looked over, he saw that she was staring at him, looking positively stricken. Forehead wrinkling, Jake inclined his head ever so slightly, further showing his puzzlement. Normally, that would have prompted an explanation from even the least intelligent beings, but—though Jake figured he probably should have expected as much—Hannah didn't take the hint to speak; she just kept looking at him like a deer in headlights.

Finally, Jake couldn't take it anymore. "What?" he asked, none too nicely. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing," Hannah answered, tossing her head pointedly. She avoided his gaze. "I didn't give your present to Greg or to Ethan." Jake raised his eyebrows at her, and Hannah shrugged. "It's in my room. Come on."

Though he'd let Hannah pull him to his feet with an icy hand, Jake scowled all the way to the stairs in the living room. "Can't you just bring it down here? I don't want to go up there."

"Don't be a lazy ass."

Jake laughed on impulse and continued following behind Hannah. Her crabby response was too classic for her, and he'd almost…
missed
…her hatefulness, as weird as that was to think. Jake could easily reason that Hannah's meanness made him grateful that she might be returning to herself, even though he couldn't exactly pinpoint why she'd really amused him.

Hannah opened her bedroom door and went in, leaving Jake to hesitate for a second in the hallway. If he knew anything at all about the old Hannah, it was that she didn't like him in her bedroom, and if he was truly going to help Hannah find herself, then he should probably be upfront about that.

"Come on, Jake!"

Brow furrowing, Jake thought about how telling her that he was a persona non grata would mean confessing about their hatred for each other. Shirley hadn't mentioned blabbing about that, and Jake suspected that if he told Hannah that they hated each other, she would be less interested in listening to what he had to say. So lying it was.

"I'm coming. God." Jake stomped into Hannah's bedroom, closing the door behind him, and glimpsed her pulling her strawberry blonde hair into a messy ponytail. Messy was about the only thing she could pull off well, in Jake's opinion.

"Okay, so it's kind of cheesy," Hannah declared, smiling rather excitedly as she turned around to face Jake. He noticed that her eyeliner smudges had been wiped away. "But you should just be proud that I listened to you so much. Okay?"

Jake flinched obviously. Talk about mind reading. "Uh-huh…"

With flair, Hannah jerked a box, wrapped with red and silver striped paper, from beneath her bed. Grinning, she laid the gift on her bed, clumsily sat beside it, and looked at Jake expectantly. After
a
moment passed without a reaction, she sighed impatiently. "Well. Go on. It's yours."

"I know. I'm just adjusting to the fact that you really bought me
a
present."

As she rolled her blue eyes, Hannah lifted the top of the box off, revealing white tissue paper. "Can you adjust a little faster?" She flipped her hair saucily over her shoulder with a coy smile. "Or should I just do it for you?"

Sighing, Jake sat down on Hannah's bed and picked up the box. "Cheesy…as in rotten, moldy cheese?" Hannah just looked at him, so Jake placed the box on his lap and pulled away the tissue paper. Speechless, he stared down into the box's depths.

"Tada!" Hannah laughed. "Now, the next time you decide to pretend you're in Jurassic Park or whatever exactly it was that you pretended, you won't have to have imaginary lava boots!"

It was true. Beneath the tissue paper rested a pair of ridiculously tacky, gray rain boots that would probably come up to Jake's knees. Uncertainly, Jake rubbed behind his ear and offered Hannah a smile. "Uh, thanks."

Hannah watched Jake in apparent amusement. "You're welcome." She paused and was silent just long enough for Jake to look up at her. "Did you really not get me anything for Christmas?"

"Aren't you supposed to give without anticipating what the other person will get you in return?" Jake asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Sure, and I did. I'm just asking."

"Then I'll just answer." Jake put the tissue paper back over his new boots and settled the box's top back on it. "No. I didn't get you anything."

Hannah's mouth dropped open, surely in an attempt to make Jake feel guilty. "Hey!"

"Don't you 'hey' me," Jake groaned, making a face at her. "I
told
you that I wasn't getting you anything, and I
meant
it."