The perfect storm in a quiet room

Chapter 35

CASY

We hug and smile at each other. I know we still have a million things to talk about and resolve and I know there are very important issues that we can't just ignore, but right now those issues are gonna have to wait. I want to cherish this moment. I want to enjoy her and the beginning of our friendship.

Hannah quickly pulls away and our hug ends. We look each other in the eyes, unsure what to say. No matter how much we know each other or how long it's been since we met, we always seem to end up in this awkward-nervous-embarrassing situation where none of us knows exactly what to say.

"I need to say something else," I nervously say, unsure if this will ruin the moment or not, but I need to be honest with her if we're going to be friends.

"Tell me."

"I lied about Leo and I... we're not dating. He's Dilara's boyfriend, as I told you, but the situation is too complicated for me to explain it to you. I know you probably don't understand anything and I'm sure you can't forget so easily about what you... witnessed in the school bathroom, and I can't either, really..." I look down, anguish taking over my body as I recall the horrible scene that happened two weeks ago. "But I promise you that someday I'll tell you everything, not now, but one day I will. Trust me" I tell her softly.

She stares at me, silent. Her expression is unreadable and I can't tell if she's mad at me or maybe furious, or maybe... I don't know.

"Yeah, I get it" she says, but I know she doesn't mean it. I know she wants to find out what's going on between Leo and me and she's damn right, but I can't tell her.

"Are you mad?" I dare to ask.

"No, just drop it" she says, a bit harsh and she must've noticed it because she takes a deep breath, smiles a weak smile and says, "let's focus on something else."

"Yeah" I smile back.

She stands on her feet and walks towards a desk near the bed. This room is tiny. I don't know how she manages to live here. And why the hell does she live here, anyway? I noticed today that she and her mom don't get along very well, maybe it's because of that?

"Maybe we could watch a movie and then talk and get to know each other. We could start sharing with each other small facts about us. Like, favorite food, ice-cream flavor..." I suggest breaking the ice.

"Sure, yeah, let's do that" she cheerfully says and goes back to the bed to sit next to me. I can feel she's now in a better mood.

"Okay, I'll start. When I was just a kid I used to have this idea that when I grow up I'll be a supermodel" I confess, laughing.

She joins me and says:

"Really? Well, that's great. That actually suits you perfectly. I mean, you're..." she trails off. Her eyes don't look at me anymore. Her cheeks are flushed and I know she's embarrassed for what she was about to say.

She's so cute when she's embarrassed... Okay, where did that come from?

"Okay, my turn. My biggest passion is to read and write novels. I didn't finish—"

"Do you write?" I interrupt her and I know it's rude but I'm surprised because of what she just said. I've never met anyone who writes before, so this is new for me. Well, I have a journal and I write there pretty often, but that's not the same as writing a novel.

"Yeah, I do," her voice tinted with pride.

"Since when?" I curiously ask.

"Since I was seven years old. I've started writing silly stories, you know, those with the blue prince, princesses, castles and a happy fucking ending," I laugh at her use of words and she does too. "Anyway, years later I was given a book as a present, it was a romantic novel and it was the first one I've ever read and I immediately loved it. I was captivated by the way the author managed to create two fictional characters that were just like humans. Those characters were a figment of the author's imagination, but I could feel them as if they were real people. That was magical for me. So I decided I wanted to create that too. I wanted to tell stories, connect with the reader, tell the untold, you know?" She pauses and studies my expression for a second. "I know it's silly, but—"