24. Hadley
Hadley
“S hould we eat before we go?” Hannah asks.
It’s been a week since Halloween, yet Halloween-themed parties are still in demand. “I think so, don’t you? I’m sure all they’ll have is warm beer.”
“It might be stale, too,” Hannah teases.
“Yum,” I say sarcastically. “Did you hear back from Katie? Are she and Carsen coming?”
Hannah shakes her head. “She asked for a raincheck, though.”
“I think I’m going to have to tell her soon.”
“About Nolan?”
I nod. “I feel like I’m lying to her by keeping this from her.”
“You’re not lying, you’re just avoiding confrontation.”
“Don’t give me more reasons to avoid telling her. I’m already dreading the conversation.”
“Katie won’t be mad.”
I stare at her. We both know that’s a lie.
“She won’t be that mad,” Hannah corrects herself. “She likes you. She’ll probably think you’re a good influence on Nolan.”
“Why do you think she said he was impulsive and reckless? Am I being willfully ignorant and ignoring red flags?”
Hannah shakes her head. “I was thinking about this just last week. I have no idea. I mean, aside from the pranks you guys pull on each other, Nolan’s a stand-up guy.
Every time we’re out, he’s the first to hold open doors, he’s super quiet in the morning to prevent waking us up, he knows my favorite energy drinks and buys them when he goes to the store…
” She shrugs. “Maybe he used to be more impulsive and grew out of it? I don’t know. ”
I try imagining Nolan being careless or selfish, and it seems next to impossible.
“Speaking of Nolan, did you invite him to come out with us?”
“Yeah, but he said he probably wouldn’t be able to make it. Tomorrow sounds like a pretty important game. I’ve barely seen him since Wednesday.”
“Maybe Ethan or Colin will convince him to come out with us.”
I offer a hopeful smile and grab a jar of marinara. “Spaghetti?”
“Oh. Will you make that garlic toast again? Do we have time?” She hops onto one of the barstools across from me as I fill a pot with water.
“Good idea.” I set the water to boil and turn on the broiler.
One of the things I’m most grateful for this year is my relationship with Hannah.
Over the past couple of months, I’ve learned about our shared love for paranormal shows, and her love for programming that was born from a terrible car accident that had her younger sister hospitalized for the better part of a year, and the only thing they could do together while she was recovering was play video and computer games.
I’ve learned she doesn’t know how to boil water, that her dad is obsessively protective, and she has a deep-seated fear of driving beside or behind semi-trucks.
Katie still spends most nights at Carsen’s, but when she’s home, I pry into her memories and thoughts as well, making more of an effort than I did during all of last year.
“Did I tell you Ethan tried making me breakfast?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. Was it sweet?”
“I had given him a hard time because I’m always the one who has to get up, and he finally did.” She laughs. “It was so bad, Hadley.”
“What did he make?”
“Eggs.”
I wince. “Were they undercooked?”
“So undercooked, and he put cinnamon on them.”
“Cinnamon?” I ask, appalled and grossed out. “Why cinnamon?”
Hannah laughs through a cringe. “They were so terrible. I took three bites and had to stop.” She puts her hands on the counter.
I rub garlic over two pieces of toasted bread. “I don’t know if I can say the effort counts in this case.”
“Things have been a little off for us. I’m hoping we have fun tonight.”
“Off how?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. He just seems kind of moody and…” She shrugs. “He said we’re getting in a rut.”
I pull my head back, feeling offended on her behalf. “What does that mean?” I try to sound soft, and supportive when inside, my thoughts are raging.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’m trying not to read too much into it, yet. He said he wants to get out and party more.”
“Is that what you want?”
She scoffs. “You know me. I’m happiest at home with my computer and a pound of Red Hots at my side, but I don’t mind going out with him a little if it makes him feel better.”
I keep my focus on the sauce as I turn on the burner for it to warm. Compromise is vital to a relationship—but I’ve always wondered if there are limitations when you give too many concessions and potentially lose your voice or what you want and need.
The train of thought has me realizing this is why my relationship with my brother-in-law, Christian, has always felt strained, regardless of our shared pranks and jokes.
He’s always demanding more from my sister, wanting her to change and alter herself to his life, his interests, and his friends—stretching every boundary of compromise.
“Don’t forget you’re amazing and your needs matter, too,” I tell her.
Hannah gives a tight-lipped smile and nods.
While dinner warms, our conversation turns to lighter topics. I tell Hannah about the persuasive speech I have to give Monday, and I listen to her plans to head home for Thanksgiving.
“Will it be snowing in Connecticut?” I ask as we fill our plates with spaghetti and garlic toast.
“My parents live pretty far north, so it’s pretty much a guarantee,” she says. “I’m kind of looking forward to it, surprisingly. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am team fair-weather, but it still feels like summer here and we’re only a couple of weeks from Thanksgiving.”
“I have kind of a crazy idea.”
Hannah peers at me with raised brows as she bites into her garlic toast.
“What if we do an early Thanksgiving? We don’t have to do the traditional turkey and mashed potatoes. We could do something totally different, or even like a breakfast.”
“Brunch!” she cries. “Everyone loves brunch.”
“We could invite everyone, Katie and Carsen, of course, Evelyn and Hudson, Ethan…”
“I love that idea.”
“I know most of the guys won’t be able to go home for Thanksgiving because they have a game the next day, and this would bring us together so we could have fun, talk—not run from men with chainsaws…”
Hannah giggles. “I’m sold. Let’s do it.”
Plans are sketched out as we finish eating and clean up the kitchen. Then we head upstairs to get dressed for the party.
Ethan and Sam arrive just after nine. If I’m being honest, the idea of stripping out of these clothes and tucking myself into Nolan’s bed is far more appealing than going out, but canceling on Hannah, especially when I know she and Ethan are going through their first hurdle has me tucking myself into Ethan’s backseat, instead.
“Since the weather is finally cooling off to make it feel like fall, I picked up some cookies to celebrate fall,” Ethan says. “They’re pumpkin spice since I remember you telling me that was your favorite.”
Hannah beams, eyes bright as though she’s looking at an adorable puppy. She reaches for the white box and opens it. Pumpkin-shaped cookies are intricately piped and decorated. “They’re so pretty,” she says. “Maybe we should eat them later. We just had dinner.”
“You should at least try one while they’re fresh,” he says.
Hannah grabs a cookie and passes me the box.
They’re almost too pretty to eat, but I take one.
Ethan pulls away from the curb, the music so loud, my ears ache, making it impossible to hear anyone in the car.
I take a bite of the cookie. It’s dry, and the frosting is too sweet, but with a lack of anywhere to put the remains, I eat the entirety of it.
I frown as Ethan pulls up to the curb along frat row. We collectively avoid parties here, knowing the risks are significantly higher at these houses.
“Were you plugging your ears?” Ethan looks amused.
“I’m hoping to be able to still hear when I’m fifty,” I tell him, unapologetically.
He smirks and shakes his head. “Let’s see if you guys can lose the pearls for one night.”
“Let’s see if you guys can keep up with us,” Hannah says. Her wit is clearly faster and sharper than mine because offense had me ready to suggest we go home.
The roads and sidewalks around campus are all narrow, these are no different, causing us to walk in pairs. Hannah walks beside Ethan and I walk next to Sam.
“What are you guys dressed as?” I ask.
“Hunters,” Sam says, motioning to their matching tan shirts and shorts.
Hannah laughs. I’m still not feeling gracious enough.
Every house is throwing a party tonight. Music and students filing in and out of each address.
We stop at a house that is painted mustard yellow. It makes me think of Nolan and his fries.
“How do the fraternities get these houses?” I ask, glancing at the older house that has too much charm to be inhabited by a group of college guys.
Sam shrugs. Ethan moves his attention from the girls on the front porch dressed as unicorns to me. “Because it’s so big?”
“No, because it has to be worth a fortune,” I say. “It’s downtown and has to be at least eighty years old, maybe older.”
“Time to turn your business brain off,” Ethan says.
“Is my tutu straight?” Hannah asks. She has a gray tutu over a gray leotard, cat ears attached to a headband on her head, and black whiskers painted on her cheeks. She’s an adorable domestic cat.
Ethan pulls her tail. “Yup.”
I smooth a hand over my own golden tutu that’s over the light brown leotard I’m wearing as part of my lioness costume.
The noise of the party grows louder with each step, pulsing through the floors, up my feet, and through my entire body, making my teeth nearly chatter.
Inside, the house is packed, wall to wall with people dancing and jumping, making our house party from September look mild in comparison.
It smells terrible, like beer, pot, cigarettes, sweat, and the occasional overpowering scent of perfume or cologne as Ethan and Sam lead us away from the safety of the door, farther into the house.
“Maybe we should be doing more of this,” Hannah says, gripping my hand. “I don’t know why, I always imagined orgys.”
“It’s still early,” I tell her.
Hannah grins. “Maybe we’ll have a better time than we think.”
Doubt sits heavy on my chest, but I try to shove it away for her sake as well as the familiar drive to try something crazy and impulsive.
We stop at the kegs where the line is a dozen people deep.
A girl in a butterfly costume passes us.
It’s elaborate and beautiful. I peer around, taking in more of the costumes.
Almost all the girls are dressed up, but few of the guys are.
It has me thinking of Nolan, wondering if he would have worn a costume if I asked.
But we don’t go to parties together as couples or to dinner or out to the movies.
We do the traditions, but apart from that nearly all our time spent together is at the house—fully platonic when Katie is around and more when she’s not.
We’re a secret. I haven’t even told Lanie or Evelyn, only Hannah.
A girl bumps into me. A guy calls me a pretty kitty and nearly touches my boob. It feels like a construction site, rife with risk and potential injury. Nowhere seems safe to stand.
“Rawr,” a guy growls, putting both hands up in the shape of claws, then turns, continuing through the crowd. It’s completely impersonal.
Detached.
Casual.
The word makes me wince as that familiar ache returns for an entirely new reason. I’m getting attached—hell, I’m already attached.
Hannah passes me a glass of warm beer that I drink in two gulps, determined to feed that ache.