Hello Again, Sir {s/t - complete}

What About Now?: 28.

         The room was a little hotter than I would have liked to admit, so I ripped the blanket away from my body and shoved it on the floor, watching Kodie channel hop. She didn’t know what to watch, and because it was half past five in the evening, there wasn’t much on. BBC and ITV were all about to broadcast the national and international news, who would put anything good on before the news?

                I would have suggested that she watch a film instead. But I wouldn’t be bothered to talk. I, for one, had nothing important to say. We said things when they were important. Or relevant, but I just wasn’t in the mood.

                “Don’t worry,” the young girl called, looking over at me on the sofa watching her flick through channel after channel, “Tea’s nearly ready. Then I’ll dish up.”

                I grunted in return. Not caring to provide a real answer and flicked my eyes back down to my book. I’d done nothing much but read and avoid calls from Hanna since the two week period I’d been out of hospital. So I’d read a lot of books and my eyes were hurting. That didn’t stop me reading, and instead, I just put my glasses on. My hair was usually curly, but because I wasn’t in a regular sleeping pattern anymore, I tended to just sleep on the sofa – usually in the day when Kodie was at college. I had nothing else to do; no one else to see. 

                My mother came over occasionally, but apart from that, I didn’t get up to answer the phone.

                Kodie sent me a worrying glance before flicking her eyes back to the telly.

                She did that a lot, actually.

                She’d look at me for a split second, either worried or annoyed that I just wanted to sit and read, and then she’d quickly look away so I wouldn’t notice. Not that it mattered, really. Because I noticed.

                “Alex?” she asked, keeping her eyes glued on the telly.

                I looked up and blinked at her, my eyes magnified by my glasses’ lens. That was my new way of communication: blinking. 

                “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to go over to your parents tomorrow after college. The adoption agency is visiting them.”

                That’s right, my mother mentioned that yesterday when she came over to stock up the cupboard with groceries.

                I nodded once. Hopefully she’d understand that that was my way of saying “sure”.

                “Great. Thanks. I’ve done enough tea today – I made stew because m—I mean, Flo said you liked it. Angie said it was your favourite as well, so I thought I’d give it a go – and I’ve made extra so you don’t need to cook tomorrow. You can just heat it up.”

                I turned back to my book. I would have smiled, my new way of saying “thank you”, but suddenly I couldn’t look at the poor girl. The day of my accident had diminished her plans straight away, because before the accident everything was perfect. Then, because the doctor though I couldn’t handle normality by myself – and I wouldn’t admit it, but last week, I was glad for Kodie’s help – Kodie had to stay and help care for me by cooking, doing the cleaning and other household chores.

                I was keeping her from moving into my parent’s house.

                 I was keeping her from being happy.

                Just because I wasn’t happy.

                Just because Hanna never told me I was going to be a father, because she always ran off with her emotions and extreme behavioural issues, she’d hurt me so much, I didn’t have an urge to see her anymore.

                Before there was an empty hole in my heart that appeared when I was away from Hanna and now, there was an empty part of my chest because I didn’t have that ache for Hanna.

                I had no idea what to do and was very confused.

                And upset.

                I guess, for the past two weeks I’d been feeling pretty sorry for myself.

                Guilty washed over me and I snapped my book shut, fed up with my thoughts and feeling horrible about Kodie’s situation. She didn’t deserve to have to sit with me whilst I moped around.

                Kodie whipped around to look at me curiously. “What?”

                “Finished.” I mumbled. Giving her the first word of the day.

                She looked slightly taken aback. Surprised that I had talked, even. “O-Oh, okay,” she finally replied, watching as I put the book on top of a pile by the sofa. I had officially read every book in my living room and now was waiting for tea.

                “Did you... uh, enjo—”

                Suddenly a phone broke Kodie off in mid-sentence. That didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to answer her question.

                Kodie reached her phone from her pyjama bottoms and stared at the screen. “Not mine.” She said, before looking at me. “It’s yours.”

                I was sitting on one side of the sofa with my legs drawn up on the sofa on the other end, taking up the whole sofa. Beside me, on the arm, was my phone. The screen was cracked – from the accident  - and I tried reading the caller I.D but because of this fault, I couldn’t do that, and had to read the number underneath.

                Luckily, I had read Hanna’s number enough to know when it was her, and I quickly declined the call.
                Kodie watched me. Only two people called me now.

                My mother.

                And Hanna.

                And if it were my mom, I’d pass it to Kodie so she could talk to her, but because it was Hanna, I didn’t. She must have guessed that.

                “Is that her?”

                I stared at Kodie apprehensively.

                “Of course it is,” she murmured, standing up. She stretched and walked to the entrance of the room to go to the kitchen.

                I knew Hanna wouldn’t have gone back to college. Heck, I’d probably go back before she does, but because Hanna was never really in college anyway. Because she went in when she felt like it, people didn’t put two and two together that we were in the same accident; the same car.

                My mother let slip that Hanna was getting better, was recovering from the accident, when Kodie was around, but thankfully my mother had never said her last name, or that she was a student, so Kodie never connected us.

                But she knew Hanna existed.

                She just didn’t know that she knew her.

                “I’m just going to dish up. Okay?”

                I didn’t reply and just stared at my phone.

                If she called again, she was sincerely sorry.

                If she called me consecutively, she loves me enough to give me an explanation.

                “Alex?”

                She hadn’t called yet.

                “Come on, Alex. Reply to me.”

                I ignored Kodie’s distant voice from the kitchen. Still, I couldn’t hear the dial ring. I couldn’t even imagine it.

                “Alex!”

                Was I going mad?

                “Alex!”

                “Yes!” I shouted back. “You’re dishing up. Great.”

                “Thanks.” She retorted sarcastically. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

                When I didn’t reply, I heard her sigh and mumble about how stupid I was being, as she made a lot of noise with cutlery and the plates.

                I just rolled my eyes, stopping when the doorbell rang.

                “Alex!” Kodie shouted.

                I went  back to looking at the phone.

                “Alex! Get that! I’m dishing up. God!”

                I sighed as I stood up. Didn’t people realise I didn’t want to be disturbed?

                I pulled my jogging bottoms up. I had ditched the cardigans, ties and smart shoes for large, baggy tee-shirts, my navy hoodie and jogging bottoms.

                Whoever was at the door rang the bell again.

                I moved from the kitchen into the hallway. “Coming.” I muttered, “I’m coming.”

                Just as the doorbell rang for the third time, I heard footprints coming from the kitchen as I stood in front of the door. I looked behind my shoulder to see Kodie in her pyjama’s, holding a large serving spoon with a frown on her face. “For goodness sake, Alex. Open the door.”

                I turned my head back slowly and before I could move to answer it, Kodie was already in front of me.

                Usually – mainly because I was paranoid that time after the police came to my house nearly a month ago now – I made Kodie look to check and see who was at the door, but her patience with me had obviously ran out and instead she just opened the door.

                And her eyes landed right on Hanna.

                They stared at each other for a long time.

                Hanna looked threatened because I saw her hand ball into a fist moments after she realised that Kodie was in my house.

                Kodie, though – although I couldn’t see her – was obviously frowning. She was deliberating facts, I guess. I knew she’d guess it. Hanna-my-girlfriend was Hanna-Franz-the-student.