Chapter 10
Hannah
As I was lying in bed, I reflected on my day. In fact, it was this very reflection that made it hard for me to fall asleep. Every time I thought of confronting Nikolai this morning and his response to my problem, I felt a rush of exhilaration, and if I’m completely honest, adoration for him. There was definitely more to him than I expected, still reeling with what he had revealed about himself after school today. It was hard to imagine someone like Nikolai having problems, too. The conversation this afternoon had humanized him in a way that he obviously hadn’t liked, considering the way he took off.
I was rolling over our various interactions in my mind when I heard my phone chime on the nightstand next to my bed. I reached for it so quickly, I nearly knocked my nightstand over. There was only one person who would text me at 11:49pm, which was why my heart was galloping in my chest.
Nikolai: Connors has a concussion. He’ll be out until Friday. I’ll handle him when he comes back.
I collapsed back on my pillow cradling my phone to my chest. I wasn’t sure what to do. Did I text him back? I didn’t really have anything to say, but a part of me desperately wanted to continue communicating with him.
Hannah: Okay. Thanks! :)
Ugh, lame. I couldn’t help myself, but repeatedly cringed when I read my response. I stared at the screen, once again waiting to see if he’d write back.
I fell asleep holding the phone.
I walked down the hallway to my locker, feeling a pinch of discomfort. Knowing that Jeff wouldn’t be here today made me re-think my clothing options. My wardrobe consisted of clothes that ran the gamut from sloppy to boring. I usually leaned into the sloppiness in order to discourage Jeff’s attention, but knowing he wasn’t in school today allowed me to reconsider my typical, terrible styling.
I had looked over my options this morning and was disturbed to discover that I had gotten into such a pattern of picking unflattering clothing that it left me with few choices now that I was interested in looking marginally better.
My sister was no help; she wore a uniform to school every day and was two sizes smaller than me. Ultimately, I settled on a better fitting pair of jeans, ballet flats and a black Nirvana t-shirt that was only about one size too big. I had my hair in a French braid, instead of my usual lopsided bun, but kept my glasses. I had considered leaving them at home, but looking at myself had felt too foreign, and not wearing my glasses was like taking off a life preserver on the high seas. I felt too exposed.
As I started depositing books from my backpack into my open locker, I spotted Nikolai walking down the hallway listening as Jack Becker kept up what looked like a steady stream of conversation. I was certain that Nikolai didn’t know where my locker was, so he would have no inclination to look in my direction. Of course, even if he’d known where my locker was, it wouldn’t guarantee that he’d look for me.
I rubbed my suddenly sweaty palms on front of my jeans and waited to see if he’d notice me. I would be a total liar if I didn’t admit that part of my decision to dress a bit less horribly was motivated by Nikolai and his reaction to my appearance yesterday. Even though my outfit was inarguably better than what I usually wore to school, it was by no means great.
Nikolai was just about to pass me when his eyes landed on mine and I froze. Did I say hello to him? Would he acknowledge me? I just stood there, paralyzed by my locker, staring at him.
Nikolai’s head jerked back briefly, as though he was surprised to see me there. Then he frowned slightly and dismissed me. He simply turned his attention back to Jack and walked past me as if I wasn’t there. I turned my head and stared blindly into my locker, shocked at the extent of my disappointment and embarrassment. My face felt hot, and I was sickeningly close to crying. Crying. Because Nikolai Ivanov, a boy who didn’t even know I went to school here yesterday and who I had begged to help me, didn’t acknowledge me.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to shake it off. Jeff wasn’t in school today—I didn’t want to waste this day feeling sorry for myself because my soon-to-be, fake boyfriend didn’t say hi to me in the hallway.
Shit, non-dating was hard; I was almost relieved it wasn’t real.
Almost.