The Boy From Everywhere

Ch. 25: The Bottle

~ Eli ~

"I'm sorry, too. I guess, I really should have been honest with you from the beginning."

Why... would she say that? Why all of a sudden...

I figured, as long as she remained secretive, I could do the same. But now, she chose it herself, to be honest. Now what? Now... what about me?

My thoughts fought in my head, asking for my final diction about what to do in this situation. As soon as a beer bottle came rolling to my feet, however, my thoughts quickly ran to the back of my mind. And at the sight of that beer bottle, my heart stopped, just for a moment. My eyes traced back the path it came from, until I found the hand that had once been holding it probably just seconds ago. The owner of that hand laid on the couch, asleep, and reeking of alcohol, but somehow, still breathing.

"... Dad," I called out, hoping to get a response. Maybe he was just about to fall asleep when I came home.

His response took a while to come, though, and it came in the form of almost a grumble. His words slurred as he spoke, asking if I was home. Highly intoxicated yet again.

"... Y-yeah... Have you eaten?" I asked with much hesitation.

I watched as he struggled to push himself up, to try and sit on the couch, while the alcohol weighed down on his body like an elephant on his shoulders. In the dark, unlit house, he looked even more pathetic, but I shook the thought away as I turned my gaze. I shouldn't be thinking about him like this. He's already gone through so much. If I treat him like everyone else does, who will he have on his side?

He spoke almost completely inaudibly. Ate just about enough, he said.

I sighed before going over to the fridge, opening it and checking the chicken soup I had cooked for him just this morning. It was supposed to help with his hangovers once he got sober, though I doubt he ever even had that even for just a moment. The bowl was still full, and I let out another sigh, my chest getting heavier.

I should heat it, and place it on the table. Maybe then, he might eat just a little bit.

"I'm going to my room. The chicken soup is on the table if you're hungry." I told my dad as soon as I was done, getting a muffled hum in return. Not knowing whether he'll actually end up eating or not, I headed over to my room, shutting and locking the door behind me before dropping myself onto my bed.

I should sleep. My next shift starts in less than four hours. And more than that, I'm sure someone'll be looking for me, too...

Wouldn't want to keep her waiting.

~•~

"... Hannah! Hey!"

A bunch of shushes and judging glares suddenly appeared pointed at me as soon as I said those words out loud, and I ducked, apologizing to the other people in the library before I looked ahead at the girl sat at the table right ahead of me, holding back a laugh. Smiling.

Hannah. My hope.

 Strange. Every time I see her, it's almost like all of my worries disappear. My problems go to the back of my mind, and my priorities suddenly seem to revolve around having to spend my time with her. Maybe, that's why...

I feel like a normal person living a normal life around her. Just like every other teenage kid.

I joined Hannah at her table soon enough, my eyes automatically falling to the notes she was reading and writing on.

Math. An instant grimace formed on my face when I realized. It must have been too obvious, too, because not long after, I heard a quiet giggle from right across me. My grimace immediately turned into an awkward grin as I looked up at Hannah. "You sure are hard-working studying math up until this late..."

"Of course. I have to," she replied as she brought her pen back to paper, still smiling as she wrote. "After all, it's our homework-"

That was when my eyes widened as the realization hit me like a truck. "WE HAD HOMEWORK?!"

"Shhh!" The shushes came much harsher the second time around, and it prompted me to try and hide under the table in my shame. Maybe I should start learning how to control my mouth more again.

"Sorry, sorry," I whispered back, not knowing if any of the people I offended even heard that.

"It's a good thing you're charming, though. Makes it easier for people to forgive you," Hannah then teased me, and I froze at her words. Heat rose up to my cheeks, and my heartbeat quickened yet again, and before I even realized it, I had spent a bit too long being quiet under the table. I only realized when Hannah spoke again. "... Eli?"

"Y-yeah– Ugh!" In my rush to get back up, my head suddenly hit the table. The table shook and a sharp pain shot across my head as I quickly placed my hand on it to cover up the pain. "Ow..." I mumbled, just as Hannah finally poked her head out from above the table to check on me.

She looked at me, wide-eyed, and then she furrowed her brows and pursed her lips as she observed me. "Well. You seem clumsier today... Is something the matter?"

Somehow, in a matter of just a few minutes since we saw each other again today, Hannah has once again made me feel more than I thought I ever would. Her concern brought warmth to my chest, and I couldn't help but feel defeated as a smile cut through the awkward grimace I held to try and hide it. All of a sudden, I became hyperaware of the sensation of my hair on my hands, and then I looked at Hannah, her hair falling from her shoulders and gently framing her face as she remained looking at me.

Come to think of it... we never really picked up from that mutual confession we did on that night we watched fireworks... did we? Wait, does she even remember?

Hesitation suddenly took over me as I looked at Hannah, pursing my lips as if to hold back the words I had ready to say. This could be too impulsive, even for me. But, what other chances could I possibly have if I don't say it now.

"Hannah..." I paused, watching her reaction before I continued. Her brows rose, and she looked on at me in anticipation, and then that's when I finally decided I really couldn't keep her waiting any longer. "I like you."

"... Huh? W-wha– ?! Ow!"

I guess, it was her turn to hit her head under the table this time.