The perfect storm in a quiet room

Chapter 45

HANNAH

Well, of course having classes was fucking hell, especially with Daniela Salvatierra, whom I absolutely hate. She spent a whole hour and twenty minutes explaining shit that is not useful at all. What a waste of time.

I stand up from my seat and head to the door to go outside and take some fresh air. However, as I thought it would happen, Daniela stops me from doing this. Fuck, fucking fuck.

"Hannah..." her soft voice comes from the back so I'm forced to turn around and face her. "May I have a word with you?"

Oh god. Why is she so irritating? God! I hate her. She needs to stop looking out for me. Can't she see that I don't need her fucking help?

"Yes," I simply answer, as politely as I can, forcing my best fake smile.

She sits back at her desk and points with her hand the free seat in front of the not-so-big wooden desk. I sit and the interrogation starts:

"Hannah, I've noticed you didn't come to class on Friday. Did something happen?" She says, while reading a piece of paper. What could be written on that? Something about me? Yeah, that for sure.

"Yeah, I know, but nothing happened. I'm fine," I answer, flatly. My patience is wearing thin and this conversation has just started.

She sighs and looks up to me, away from the paper. She takes off her black-horn-rimmed glasses and stares at me... coldly. She covers her face with her hands and then rubs her eyes. She lets out a sigh and just by hearing that sound, I can sense the exhaustion consuming her.

I've never seen her like this, but I guess... she's just as tired of the situation as me. Maybe she will stop trying to talk to me now that seems to have noticed that I won't fucking talk to her and tell her nothing? I hope so.

"Hannah, that's it. I'm tired of your attitude. I'm worried about you... And I'm here to help you, so let me! I know something's going on with you and you need my help. I know you need it. Stop being stubborn and tell me what your problem is so I can support you and give you the tools you need to solve your problems on your own. Trust me, it'll be great for you, but you have to tell me what's going on first," she says, raising her voice a little, but then speaking with a much lower tone.

I stare at her intently while she's saying that shit, and all I can think of is: Why the fuck is she telling me all that? I don't need any help. I'm fine on my own. I'm great on my own. She tried so many times to make one of her "interventions" and the truth is, it's really exhausting to listen to her talking nonsense. Besides, who does she think she is to do interventions? A life coach? Oh please! She's just a teacher. An annoying teacher, who seems to have a very boring life since apparently she doesn't have anything better to do than bother me with these stupid talks. I don't want to deal with her right now. I already have a lot on my plate and there are a lot of things I need to take care of and talking with her is not one of them. I better get this over with.

"Miss, with all due respect, I don't need any help. I already told you a million times that I'm fine. I don't like you putting pressure on me like this. I already have things going on that require my attention, so I'll kindly ask you to stop asking me these questions and leave me alone," I say, trying to stay calm, though my tone is stern and harsh.

She tilts her head and her eyes soften. For a moment I thought she would understand me and stop doing whatever she's trying to do with me, but then she completely changes the subject and says:

"Hannah, I saw you're getting along with Castille. I'm happy you made a friend," she forces a smile.

As soon as I hear her name I feel a punch in the middle of my chest. The ache has returned. That fucking unbearable ache.

I feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes and I try as hard as I can to repress them, but... it's impossible. What she's done hurt me, destroyed me. The way she belittled my feelings and had the guts to tell the whole school about them... is something I would never forget.

I look down, away from Daniela's gaze and try to calm down. I breathe in and out a few times trying not to let the pain control me. I have to be stronger. I can't come undone in front of Daniela— that would only make things worse. She'd keep an eye on me every day all day and she'd be more annoying than she already is so... I better fight the tears and the pain. I have to be stronger than my emotions.

Once I feel like I'm calmer, I dare to look up and my eyes meet hers. Her face creases into a worried frown and I immediately know that she already noticed that I'm about to cry. God, this is a disaster!

"Hannah... what's wrong? Are you okay?" she asks, standing on her feet and walking towards me.

I step away from her, as a reflex action. I don't want her near me, I don't need her. I just want her to leave me the fuck alone! Is that so hard to get?

"I'm fine," I reply, sharply.

"Hannah, you're crying. You're not okay," she says, handing me a tissue that I reject. I don't need her help for God's sake!

"I'm fine, just stop it!" I say, raising my voice and wiping the tears that are starting to fall from my eyes while storming out of the classroom.

I walk towards the restroom clenching my fists and wearing an angry frown. I need to get away from everyone, I don't want anyone to see me like this, although I can perceive people pointing at me and laughing. I can even hear some guys saying, Hey, my cousin is a lesbian, maybe you two could go on a date? or, Hey lez, can you make out with a friend of mine just for me? You have no idea how hard I get when I see two girls kissing. On my way to the restroom I hear more of these comments, but I try my best to turn a deaf ear, since they are only making me feel worse.

When I enter the bathroom I close my eyes and lean my back against the wall, slowly sliding down till I reach the floor and sit down. I let the scalding tears fall from my eyes, I let the loud sobs come out of my mouth and I let the pain increase its power over me. I cover my face with my hands and let it all out. The anger, the pain, the sadness... everything's out there now.

As minutes pass by I feel worse. I feel as if I couldn't breathe because of my crying and as if I were choking because of the lump in my throat caused by my own pain. I feel as if I were weaker with each sob I let out and with each anguished cry that escapes me. I now have a pounding headache and sore eyes and I feel as if I've lost all my power... because I've lost it. I've lost it all and I don't know if—

"Hannah?" a familiar voice asks, which startles me and zones me out of my dark thoughts.