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Mike’s keys jiggle as he pulls them out of his car’s ignition and spins them around his index finger. He’s exhausted and the idea of going inside his house to face his parents kinda makes his skin crawl at this moment.
He’s been with Emily the past six hours, and while she’s probably the best girlfriend he’s ever had, there is no question that she can be a bit of a handful. Being with her is a constant roller coaster of emotions and Mike is too passive to tell her to chill when she gets riled up over little things.
Being dragged around by her gets to be a little tiring sometimes, and Mike’s parents are just as pushy. So, to get his mind off of things, he settles into his seat and pulls out his cellphone to take a break.
The small device has been turned off for the past 3 hours, since the couple stopped to see a movie, so when it lights up with its familiar fanfare and displays a picture of Sam, Hannah, Em, and himself from Junior year, along with a group of unread messages, it isn’t too strange.
There are a grand total of 10 texts, but the most recent is from Beth. It’s odd to get messages from the youngest Washington kid, since they aren’t that close, so Mike let his curiosity get the better of him – opening it without even glancing at the preview.
[beth]; (04:50) Hey. Sorry to bother you, but Sam isn’t answering. We had to put Norman to sleep this morning. Hannah didn’t take it so well. She won’t come out of her room. Please say you can help.
Mike stares at his phone dumbfounded. The message on the screen feels like a really sick joke, and Mike starts typing back a reply he knows he’s going to regret before even considering sending it.
There was no way Beth would joke around about Hannah’s cat of 9 years dying. That would just be a little bit too messed up for a prank.
He erases the “stop fucking around” he’s already typed and starts a fresh text with a better attitude.
[reply]; (5:56) Hey. My phone was off. Just got your message. She still in there?
Worry thick on the tips of his fingers, Mike presses send and switches over to his inbox. As expected, there are 3 unread texts from Hannah. He’s honestly amazed at how neat they are considering she must’ve typed them through tears.
[Hanana (ง︡T w T)ง]; (03:56) Hey… I know you’re probably busy, but if you get some free time, can you call me?
[Hanana (ง︡T w T)ง]; (03:57) It’s nothing serious. I’m just a little down today.
[Hanana (ง︡T w T)ง]; (04:31) I’m so sorry! I just remembered you were hanging out with Emily today! Don’t worry. I’m okay. Ignore me plz. Being a baby about something silly. Have fun! :)
“’Something silly,’ my ass.” Mike audibly huffs as he glares down at the screen.
Nothing pisses him off more than when Hannah pretends she’s fine when something is obviously wrong. It’s so irritating how she thinks a simple, “Don’t worry. I’m okay,” and a smiley face is enough to trick him into thinking she isn’t currently crying her eyes out – like he doesn’t know her well enough to read between the lines of her messages.
The two teens text and IM daily about everything and anything. For a moment there, their replies were like stream of consciousness. No filter, at least on Mike’s end, and they learned everything about each other. He used to be amazed at how she could read the sadness in his text no matter how he worded them, but he soon learned that he could do the same with her.
She’s his closest friend at the moment, so why can’t she trust him? Sometimes it feels like she’s afraid of him or maybe of his reaction to her. She never even invites him to hang out without going through Josh. It’s frustrating.
“Fuck…” He whispers to himself as he impatiently waits for Beth to reply.
His phone vibrates almost on command.
[beth]; (6:01) Oh thank god. Yeah, still in there. I’m REALLY worried.
Mike leans his head against his window as he reads the text, trying to cool himself off with the dropping temperature outside the glass. He isn’t sure why all this is making him so upset, but he needs to get to Hannah as soon as possible.
[reply]; (6:01) omw
Tossing his phone to the passenger seat, he cranks his car and pulls out of his driveway.
Luckily, the Washingtons and the Munroes practically live in the same neighborhood. Both houses mix into a cluster of upscale mansions that are in walking distance of each other – something Mike has tested too many times – so he tries not speed as he drives.
Within minutes Mike pulls into the Washington’s driveway with a small bump.
Mike hears that the Washington’s main house is the largest of their properties, towering columns holding up three stories of lavish living, but the view of it always puts him at ease. Their friend group spends so much time in those walls, people always coming in and out, so it almost feels like a second home - a better home.
Exiting his car and locking his doors, Mike jogs up the long pathway connecting the front porch to the driveway. He takes a second to catch his breath before knocking a few times.
At first, there is no answer, and Mike begins to think he was too quick to drive over without talking to Hannah first. But, just as he is about to retreat to his car to retrieve his phone, the large door creaks opens and Beth stands in front of him, a frown plastered across her lavender painted lips.
“Come on in,” she greets, holding the door open and gesturing inward. “My parents are out of town, so don’t worry. My dad isn’t going to give you the rule rundown for the 50th time.”
“Wait. Your parents didn’t go to the vet with you guys?” Mike raises an eyebrow as he enters the home and begins his journey upstairs to Hannah’s room. He’s thankful for Beth’s quick paced following, because he isn’t sure he would’ve waited for her.
“It was just Josh, Hannah, and me. She told Josh to leave after we got home. She locked herself up in her room right after he left. She’s been in there ever since.”
“Damn, Beth…” Mike rounds the corner to a familiar short set of stairs that lead to a butterfly printed bedroom door.
“You’re telling me.” Beth passes by Mike as they approach the room and leans her whole body against the door. She knocks once, a quiet sound that echoes back down the hallway.
“Hey, Hannah?” Beth coos in a motherly voice with her ear pressed snugly against the dark wood. “I texted Mike, and we’re both really worried about you. He’s -”
“You didn’t,” a weak voice cuts Beth off, followed closely by abrupt shuffling right behind the barrier. Small inconsistent knocks rise from the floor as if the older Washington twin is making her way up from lying against it.
The door knob wiggles roughly, and it quickly becomes apparent that she forgot she locked it.
“Shit.”
Mike bites his bottom lip to hold back an unwarranted laugh. It’s so rare to hear Hannah curse that it forces air out of his lungs without his permission.
The brunette is always so quiet and innocent, her eyes wide as she examines the world around her like it’s boiling over with wonderful things only she can see. Mike often wishes he could view the world through her eyes, but his world is black and white suits at dinner parties where the elite exchange dirty looks and sharpen knifes behind their backs.
When Hannah curses, it’s always hushed under her breath like a secret. In those moments, she almost sounds like she could fit into Mike’s political world. But while he has imagined her once or twice in an elegant gown with her arm around his as they walk through the pit of sharks, her gentle features always seem to shrink against the force of the polished grime and overpowering cologne.
She doesn’t belong there.
With a click, Hannah finally gets her door open and stumbles out. Her eyes are stained red and purple with irritation and her nose is a small burst of congested pink. Strands of her chocolate brown hair shoot out from a bun on the top of her head, and her clothes are disheveled.
“I told you, I’m fine, B-” Hannah catches herself on the door frame and pulls herself back in a rush as Mike’s eyes lock with her’s.
“Hannah?”
On instinct or maybe some twintuition that Mike can’t comprehend, the younger twin takes a full step to the side – clearing the path for him like she’s done it a million times. Hannah is already on the retreat though; both her hands pulling the doorknob back like Mike is a beast ready to maul her to death instead of a friend trying to draw her out of hiding.
Without much thought, he springs forward and grabs the door before it settles into its frame. They both pull against her barricade in opposite directions. Normally their tug-of-war would’ve been to Hannah’s advantage, her arms strong from years of tennis, but she is weak from crying and her fingers slip after only a few seconds of being on the losing side.
This small defeat seems to break the remaining resolve Hannah has in her. Tears drip from her eyelids like condensation on a windowpane - collecting at the sides before sliding down in long translucent streaks. She tries to hide her face with her hands by pressing her fingers under her glasses, sending the loose frame down the bridge of her nose, but Mike can see her now.
“Oh my god, Mike… “
Mike has his arms around her before he even knows what he’s doing. She’s shaking so he tries to stabilize her, one hand firmly placed on the center of her back while the other gently guides her face to his shoulder. Her glasses collide with his shirt, but soon they somersault to the floor with a small thump.
Her hands fall to his back, and her face presses further into his shoulder as she lets out small, muffled sobs. That’s when Mike notices Beth walking back down the hallway to her own room. She gives Mike a thankful smile before leaving the two alone.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m here now.” Mike tries his best to sound upbeat as he subconsciously presses his face into her hair.
He’s never seen her like this. The sight sends a piercing pain vibrating through his chest like a needle plunging into the surface of his rib cage. His own eyes prick with stubborn tears, like Hannah’s pain is pushing itself into his body through some form of emotional osmosis.
“I’m not going to leave you. It’s okay. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry. I’m being stupid,” she coughs out through a forced laugh as she tries to compose herself and push away from him. “I’m sorry Beth texted you. You were with Emily and…”
“Stop. It’s fine.” Mike places a palm against Hannah’s tear stained cheek, allowing his thumb to brush away some of the sadness still collecting there. She flinches away, almost like him touching her so gently might hurt her – like his kindness burns.
His drops his hand away from her as he continues, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Hannah hesitates for a moment like he is speaking in a language she doesn’t quite understand. His words linger in the air as she shifts her weight and scrunches up her nose. “What do you mean?”
“I could’ve gone with you. Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you ever tell me when something’s wrong?”
Hannah blinks a few times, averting her gaze until it settles on his chest. “I-I don’t know what you mean…”
“Yes, you do.” Mike flicks his head in annoyance. Once again she’s hiding it, like he can’t be trusted. He’s not stupid and he’s too worried about this happening again to give in to her words, so he persists. “Hannah, I’m with you no matter what, and I always will be, okay? You can trust me.”
“I do trust you,” She mumbles as collects some hair that has gathered in her face and tucks it behind her ear. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.” He helps her effort to clear her face of scattered hairs by tucking a few behind her other ear. “I know Norman was important to you, and while me being here won’t change anything, I’m ready to treat you to anything you want.”
Hannah finally cracks a genuine smiles, “W-what?”
“Hannah Washington, I’m asking you to allow me to accompany you for the rest of the evening.” He fakes a refined accent, standing up a little taller and wiggling his eyebrow. “I’ve heard I can be very entertaining.”
Now that has her laughing.
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Oh, I’m so sure.”
“It’s true!” he retorts, faking offense. “I’m very good company! And my shoulders were made to be cried on, just ask Em.”
“I guess I’ll have to test that.” Humor is lost in Hannah’s voice as the corners of her lips fall again. “Thanks for being here.”
Mike simply nods as he pulls her in close, letting their foreheads rest against each other. Being near her has always been comfortable, but today there is something different in the way his heart thumps in his chest.
It’s almost as if Michael Munroe feel a little embarrassed.
“Thank you for letting me.”
Hannah clenches onto the front of his shirt as her eyes start to brim with tears again, but this time, Mike’s there to wipe away every single one.