Another Alternative

From Now On We Are Maybe, Friends?

Grace's POV

I caught Hannah just as she fell. I guess Chester must have had a decent right hook because a bruise was already forming around Hannah's eye and a bit of blood was falling from her eyebrow. No. That was already there. Was it? I couldn't tell, there was so much of it.

"What the fuck, man?" I spat at Chester, but they ignored me.

"Chester!" Mamrie shouted, slapping his arm. He was already doubled over in pain and clutching his hand, which was covered in blood. Maybe that's where the blood from Hannah's brow came from. God, we were a mess.

Mamrie quickly snapped out of aggressive mode and into caring mother mode. She rushed to his defense, placing a hand tentatively on his shoulder.

"Fucking hell, are you alright? Let me see." She reached for his hand but he hit hers away. "Excuse me?" She backed off just long enough to look offended before going for his hand again, this time he gave it.

"What the fuck happened to your hand?" I shot a dirty look at Chester before turning back to Hannah. I shook her

"None of your fucking business." He spat, solidifying my disdain for men. I looked to Mamrie expectantly and she rolled her eyes.

"He," She drew in an exasperated breath before continuing. "He punched a wall."

"Idiot."

"Fuck you, I had good reason."

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" I turned back to him and saw a look I knew was him trying to look tough. Needless to say, it wasn't working on me. "Oh. Oh. Shit, Mamrie. You told him?"

"I thought you had. He was crying, after all." Mamrie wiped the blood off Chester's knuckles carefully to get a better look at the no doubt shattered bones, giving him a false "you're okay" before looking over to me.

"What for?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? I told you Smith died not an hour ago." Chester clenched his good fist around his bad wrist and Mamrie set her hand on his, shaking her head lightly.

"Wait, who the fuck is Smith?"

"Christ, Grace, could you be any more dense? Smith? Kenneth Smith? My best friend of the last sixteen years?" I must have looked confused because he just got angrier. "Fuck, Grace. Have you ever listened to me once in your life?"

"Sorry if I haven't really had time to listen to you talk about your-"

"Hannah?" Mamrie cut me off.

I turned back to Hannah and, sure enough, her eyes were blinking open.

"Hannah! Hannah." I smoothed her hair out of her eyes. "Hey."

"Hey." She let out a breathy laugh before looking past me at Chester and Mamrie. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Whatever. You deserved it." He rolled his eyes at her.

"For what?" Hannah propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him like he was the stupidest person she'd ever met. "Sleeping with someone I didn't know was engaged, accidentally falling in love with her, and choosing to further that relationship under the assumption she had ended the prior engagement? Does that really give you the right to punch me in the goddamn face?" She brought a hand to her eye, wincing at the pain.

"Not to mention, I'm a woman. Bro, you can't hit women. You have to know that." Hannah scoffed at his insolence, hopping to her feet and stumbling a bit before she found her bearings. "Now can we just, like, okay?" She gestured between the four of us and I guess he seemed to get it.

"Whatever." He brushed us off and started walking away but Mamrie stopped him.

"Chess, your hand." She gave him a weak smile. He shut his eyes and visibly deflated.

"Fuck." He muttered. "Do you, um, do you have a first aid kit or whatever in that bar of yours?"

"Yeah."

"Can I use it?" You could almost see his pride sink down his throat.

"So long as you don't use all of it. You've got one hell of a swing on you." They both cracked a smile at this.

Okay. I thought. Maybe more than just whatever Hannah's gestures meant. Maybe, friends?