A Beautiful Boyfriendship

Chapter Ten: Disaster Strikes

Any and all observations about the Colfers' house is speculation on my part. I have not, though I would love to, visited their house. Hannah's personality, though, is mostly factual--from what I can find on the Internet--, especially her condition (I'll explain).

P.S. I just want to clarify: I don't have a beta, so sorry for any grammatical mistakes! I *try* to read everything through before I post, but sometimes it just doesn't work out. But if anyone volunteers...greatly appreciated!

Glee belongs to Fox and Ryan Murphy. Hopefully Chris and Darren own themselves...or each other!!!

-CC

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Thursday, after lunch

The Colfers' house

One of the few reasons I've always loved my house is that it's situated on a hill so that you can see all of Clovis laid out underneath it. After lunch, four days after my escape from L.A., was the first time I allowed myself to relive last Monday. I'd just been too busy catching up! I didn't know why I was afraid; my parents and sister welcomed me with open arms and a complaint that I didn't bring Mark, respectively. Hannah loves Mark to death.

They were also considerate enough to not ask about why I'd come. Sure, they poked around a bit when I first settled in, but when they saw I didn't want to talk about it, they backed off. Somehow, they knew I needed to get through this alone.

It'd been hard, though. Every time something funny or startling happens, I automatically reached for my phone to text or call Darren. It was automatic. Most of the times, I caught myself in the act of creating a new message, but once, I had the message composed and had gone far enough as to flick through my contacts wondering where the heck was Darren's name--oh, yeah. I deleted the number because--oh, yeah. He lied.

So now, because of Darren, here I was above all of Clovis, swinging gently on Hannah's swingset. Although she was fourteen, swinging is a low-risk activity she can do by herself, so we kept the set. Hannah has a very severe form of epilepsy, when you have seizures not caused by injury or disease. She usually has about 55 seizures--an hour. She's also one of the 3% of sufferers who cannot control their seizures by medicine. As a fourteen-year-old girl, she just learned to read sentences, and that's amazing. And I love her so much. The scary thing, though, is the grand mal seizures. Most of Hannah's seizures are simply staring spells. But the grand mals are like the ones you see in the movies:  jerking around, falling down, passing out. And we never know when--or if--she'll wake up.

"Think of the devil..." I joked good-naturedly as Hannah crossed the yard to join me on the swings. "Hey, Han."

"Hi, bubby," she said before brushing her shoulder-length blond hair and bangs out of her face. Suddenly, her face went blank for a few seconds. Then she snaps back. That was one of 55 for the hour.

"Did you need something, sweetheart? 'Cause if not, I kind of need to think," I said tentatively. I knew I don't deserve any alone time; I knew I'd had enough away from them over the past few years.

"Yeah. I wanted to know why you're here. I love you, but you never come home. What's wrong?" she asked innocently, and it wrenched my heart to learn that she feels I only come home when something's not right. That's an awful way to treat your family, and I mentally told myself to visit more often.

"Well...actually, Han, you're right. Something is wrong," I said. I considered telling her; what's the worst that could happen? And I knew she'd ask.

"What?" See?

"Ah, well, Hannah, do you remember Darren? The guy I met in that coffeeshop?" I asked. She considered the name for a bit, then nods.

"He plays Blaine, right?" she said. Then I remembered that episode six, Darren's first, aired a few weeks ago. Hannah watches Glee to see Mark, so she'd have seen him.

"Yeah, good job, Han. Well...you remember we lived together? We sort of...had a fight," I admitted sheepishly. Saying it out loud made me feel about five years old. A thoughtful expression took over Hannah's childish features. After a moment, she supplied her obvious answer.

"Then why didn't you two kiss and make up?" she asked ever-so-innocently.

I choked. On air. After coughing once or twice or twenty times, I got my breath back enough so that I could exclaim, "What?!?" Hannah just gave me a look.

"You know, kiss and make up. Like-"

"I know what it means, Hannah."

"Then why'd you say what?"

"Because...because it's not like that."

"How?"

"...Well, I don't actually know." But she had a point; how is it different? So Darren lied to me. Lots of people have lied to me, I had to admit. It's impossible to go your entire life without lying in this day and age. Why did the fact that it was Darren make it any different?

Duh. Because you trusted him.

No, it's more than that. I'd trusted lots of people who have lied to me. Exhibit A: Lea. She lies so much to try to prank us all, yet I always laugh it off, and I would still trust her with my life.

Then it's because you love him.

Woah, where did that come from? But as much as I tried to deny it...italic voice might just be right. I loved Darren; I'd accepted that it's not just a silly crush. It hurt so much to think that he was capable of lying to me...because I loved him? As I thought it, though, I knew it was true. I loved Darren, and I was so far gone that I had blindlessly hoped that he loved me, too.

How do you know he doesn't?

I knew that Darren didn't love me because he lied. Doesn't loving someone mean they won't hurt you? Since Darren lied to me--hurt me--he must not love me, right? Right?

I'd all but forgotten Hannah was sitting next to me until she piped up.

"You love him, right?" Again, choked a little, but I wasn't really surprised, as I'd been running that idea through my head. Bashfully, I nodded.

"I practically saw your mind turning," she said with a grin.

"Yeah. So I love him. Now what?"

"Do you love him enough to just be his friend? To settle for being happy when he's happy, even if it's not with you?" she asked. Wow, for a teenager, she's pretty damn smart.

I had to consider it. I realized that yes, Darren meant so much to me, so much that I just wanted to see him happy. I thought I could live on his laugh, his smile.

"Yes," I said soundly, and meant it.

"Then you know what you have to do."

Yeah, I did. I had to go back, tell Darren I was sorry, and that I forgave him. I needed him in my life, I knew that now. I'd never admit it to anyone, but the past few days had been hell. I was always turning, looking for that curly-haired hobbit to come bouncing around the corner with a handful of Red Vines. I missed him.

"I have to go get him. I know that now. Thanks, Hannah. I love you, sweetie," I said before getting up to pack my bags. There was no response. "Hannah?" I turned and faced the swings once again.

"Hannah!"

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Oooh, cliffhanger! But Darren's chap is next, then more CrissColfer! Yay!

Also, when I mentioned Lea earlier in this chapter, I was trying to say that she's a practical jokester (which I got from various interviews), not that she's a pathological liar. :)

But the important info:

Epilepsy is a serious disease. About three million Americans have it. Most of the time, it's manageable, but sometimes, like in Hannah's case, it's not. Also, epilepsy is one of the least-funded diseases in the U.S. There is an organization, CURE (Citizens United for Research in Epilepsy), that raises money for research for a cure. For more information, go to http://cureepilepsy.org. Also, If you or anyone you know suffers from epilepsy, please contact me! I would love to hear your story. Thank you!

-CC