The Boy From Everywhere

Ch. 28: The Other House

The girl from this morning... What was she doing with Hannah's phone?

There was something about the way she talked, sweet but venomous with a hidden agenda that she seemed to intentionally not hide as much as she should. It felt weird, uncomfortable, hostile, and while it didn't feel like it meant to attack me, I knew it meant to attack someone close to me.

Specifically, the owner of the voice that suddenly appeared right after, sounding panicked and followed by frantic shuffling sounds.

[What are you doing? That's my phone!]

"H-Hannah-!"

I don't think I even got to finish saying her name before the phone call ended. 

"... Oh."

And I guess, I couldn't help but feel disappointed mostly at having been unable to reach her, after all. This was bad. I knew I should feel bad for her, worry about what she could be going through right now or what could have been happening on the other end. My shoulders weighed down on me and so did my heart. In the end, most of my disappointment was for my own feelings...

I wanted to have Hannah comfort me, but I guess that was impossible for the meantime.

"I should probably just go home," I concluded as I looked at the long winding road up ahead. At least, I'll have time to make dinner and make sure Dad eats it.

~•~

"Hannah. Are you... okay?"

I couldn't help but ask in the end. I knew I shouldn't have. After all, it seemed like she didn't want to talk about it, and she always avoided questions regarding that girl.

I don't know why I expected another kind of response by asking this time around.

"Uh... Yeah. Why do you ask?" She seemed more focused on other things too, anyway, refilling the shelves and not giving me a glance as she talked.

It bothered me, and I badly wanted to make her stop hiding her problema from me. But I didn't know how to do it without being intrusive. Not to mention... Who was I to pressure her into sharing her problems, when I couldn't even properly do it myself?

"Hannah..." I puffed my cheeks up, leaning over the counter while she continued restocking the shelves. She seemed to notice my behavior, but I don't think she realized that I was serious. After all, if she did, I don't think she would have chuckled before turning to me.

She smiled, but I could see a completely different emotion in her eyes. She looked tired. "I'm fine, really. Just the usual problems, but I can handle it! Unless of course, you want me to rant your ears off with the usual story."

"I mean, that'd be fine with me," I told her, and then she looked at me like I had just said something completely alien. Even though I hadn't even asked the big question yet. "But... who was that girl who came into our classroom this morning anyway? Do you know her?"

Hannah's expression faltered, and then she looked away again. "She's my cousin. I'm living with her and her parents now since my aunt said we should spend some time apart."

Oh... Her cousin?

"Is she... nice?"

"Well... better than my aunt, I guess."

"So, that's not really a 'yes'."

Hannah suddenly paused, before she looked at me. I flinched in response, suddenly feeling scared with not knowing what she was going to do. But then she tilted her head, and smiled at me sweetly, humming before she talked again. "You know, you're really charming."

"H-huh?"

She suddenly giggled, and then she waved her palm while laughing, all while I continued looking at her in confusion. "No, I mean– Well, I guess it would be nice to be naïve and all every now and then..." She chuckled, and then she rested her cheek on her palm, looking at me while she sat near those shelves.

I could only stare back at her. To be fair, she wouldn't have known, and to be fair, I think that meant I just did a great job at hiding it. But it wasn't fair that I was still being insincere with her, was it?

I giggled back, placing my hand on the back of my head as I finally responded. "Yeah, I guess so."

When should I tell her, though?

~•~

"Dad, I'm home!"

My voice echoed all across the dark room, before I heard a grunt from the living room all over again. I hummed in response, and then took my shoes off before closing the door behind me.

Since my Dad's in the living room, I should take this opportunity to continue cleaning his room, shouldn't I?

Heading to the kitchen, I opened the fridge and checked the pot.

Oh. At least, he ate a little.

And then I closed it before looking towards his room. It had been a while since I last entered that room. Just as always, I couldn't finish cleaning before my next shift. Dad would then barge in, looking for a more comfortable sleeping place, I guess, and mess everything up before I returned.

I still clean just so he could still have that place. If he wasn't using it, maybe I wouldn't have seen a point in spending a few extra hours awake for that. But he still used it, and so I still cleaned. And tonight, that was going to be my routine once again.

Thud!

I coughed as the boxes came down, falling with a thud and sending dust flying up from their contents.

"Whoo! At least, I finally get to cleaning these things," I mumbled to myself, an attempt at self-encouragement after how much I've already done in cleaning this room.

The boxes, too. It's been a while since we moved here, and I've just stocked them in Dad's room thinking he wouldn't be using the room much. I was wrong, obviously, but leaving them here meant that I haven't opened them in so long. I don't even remember what I put in them!

I'd expect old clothes or books. Maybe even toys that I never found the opportunity to throw away... But the first box didn't include any of those.

... Oh.

Instead, there were pictures.