"Hannah! Hi!" Skylar exclaimed, releasing me from her surprisingly strong grip. "I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages, even though we go to class together. It's so good to see you," she gushed, flashing me a broad red-lipped grin.
I blinked, trying to process the sudden, unexpected interaction. "Sky... hey. It's, um, nice to see you too." I looked at her like a fish out of water. "H-how have you been?"
Bailey arched a brow at me, obviously curious about who Skylar was and waiting for some context or an introduction. I'd told her bits and pieces about Sky over the phone, but I'd never thought it necessary to reveal her name - so it would be hard letting Bailey know that this was the pretty blonde who had a massive crush on Tristan. And that this was the woman who suited him so much more than I did.
She was literally the perfect athlete's girlfriend - an athlete herself, she looked like a Viking goddess, was outgoing, and very familiar with public attention and scrutiny. If she and Tristan ever got together, they'd undoubtedly be a power couple.
It was easy to picture her as one of those social media wives who nailed meal prep, worked out daily, and appeared to have everything under control. It wasn't that I despised those women - it's just that I'd never be one of them.
"I'm doing amazing! I just got here, but I'm so excited to join in on the festivities. I see everyone has already gotten in full swing of things," she remarked, looking around with a mix of excitement and wonder.
She wore an iridescent crop top revealing her toned abs, a cute tulle mini-skirt adorned with pearls and crystals, and knee-high boots that accentuated her model-long legs. She looked gorgeous. Meanwhile, I felt like a blobfish beside her, wearing basic jean shorts and a plain white shirt tucked in. And let's not forget the faded minion's eye on my forehead while she seemed to be glowing in glitter, jewels, and a full face of makeup.
"Oh, yeah. It's been fun..." I trailed off because it felt like my throat was closing in on itself.
I hadn't felt this self-conscious and out of place since Dylan. I hated the thoughts currently racing through my head, comparing every aspect of myself to her. And worst of all, I was developing this stupid, irrational hatred toward her. For no reason at all.
I missed not caring.
Seeing the turmoil on my face, Bailey stepped forward, baring a wide, confident smile. "Hi, I'm Hannah's best friend - Bailey. I love your boots! I can already tell I'll be browsing online for them as soon as I can."
Sky laughed, lifting her leg to give Bailey a better look. "Because I'm a girl's girl, I'll tell you exactly where I got them."
See? She was just so fucking nice.
The two launched into a conversation about online shopping, affording me a moment to step back and collect my thoughts. I was glad that Bailey took the initiative because I felt wholly unable to deal with Sky right now. Not only was her sudden appearance a shock to my system, but my mind was still replaying the events that had just happened with Tristan. And now the girl who always triggered my jealousy was here?
With Amanda, I knew he'd never touch her, not when he could see her for what she was. But Skylar? I knew he genuinely liked her as a person. During our project, they had developed some sort of friendship. I also think there might have been some interest on his part when they first met. From both of them, actually. He was a natural flirt, and she'd been a willing partner.
My insecurities were not prepared to deal with her.
Deciding now was the perfect time to take a much-needed break, I slipped away quietly, pushing through the throngs of people until I found a quiet and somewhat secluded spot between two food stands.
Taking a moment to gather myself, I focused on calming my racing thoughts. I tried to push away all the negative thoughts and emotions because dwelling on those always made me so angry. I sighed, dropping my chin and closing my eyes. When did my life get so complicated?
Seeking a distraction, I pulled out my phone, remembering I hadn't messaged my mom yet. No doubt, she'd left a barrage of messages, each increasingly frantic and riddled with spelling mistakes as she worked herself into a panic. True to my predictions, I found twenty-six messages demanding to know if I was safe, if she needed to come get me, if I was hurt, if she needed to phone the cops, etc.
It took everything in me not to snap at her - but we'd been there before and that had accomplished nothing. So I sent her a long and detailed message reassuring and answering all of her concerns. Knowing my luck, I'd still need to phone her before she actually calmed down.
As I checked my phone, an Instagram notification revealed a new message. A sense of déjà vu washed over me as I opened it. Like the other one, this account was clearly a throwaway - no pictures, no bio, no followers, and no profile picture. I hesitated before answering, wary of my current mental state.
?: Is it just me or does it seem like he's already bored with you? How long till he leaves you for a prettier, nicer girl? Karma's coming for you.
I stared at the message in shock, trying to process what I was seeing.
Considering the familiarity behind the tone of the message, I had to assume this was the same person as before. Unease prickled at me, and I glanced around, searching for anyone who might trigger my suspicions, but no one seemed particularly interested in me; they were mostly heading towards the game or the bathrooms.
Fine - I thought, teeth clenched hard as I looked back down at my screen - I'd take the bait and play dumb, but only until I had more information. It seemed pointless asking who they were and expecting a truthful answer, so I tried something else.
H: Who are you talking about? And why are you messaging me?
To my surprise, they started typing back almost immediately. Had they been waiting for me to hopefully answer?
?: Don't play dumb, Hannah. We both know who I'm talking about.
?: I bet you feel so proud of yourself for landing someone like him. Maybe you're thinking that you can keep him, but you can't. You're the wrong girl for him.
Tristan. There was no one else they could be referring to. I briefly wondered whether I should be worried about whoever this was. Or was this just a crazy fangirl, jealous of the fact that I was the one in his bed? That was the most probable answer. Girls could get ruthless when they wanted something. Or someone.
H: He's not something you can own. He's the one who chooses who he dates or doesn't date.
H: Why are you doing this? Do you seriously have nothing better to do than obsess over us? Just a little head's up - this is really weird and desperate.
I knew I shouldn't be responding, let alone antagonizing them, but that was easier said than done. I also needed to get more info out of them, just in case this was more serious than I thought. Yet, I couldn't deny that there was a part of me that wanted to really retaliate, to hit back at this person's vulnerabilities just like they were doing to me.
?: We all know he doesn't date, and you're not special enough to be the exception. Do you really think he's going to want to be with a girl who's known for being a bitch? Over so many better options? You're not good enough for him. Let's just hope that he realizes it before I'm forced to take things into my own hands...
Their words sparked irrational anger within me. It wasn't about whether I agreed with them or not, it was about the audacity this person had - thinking they had any say over us or that they could just threaten me. What was happening between Tristan and me was our business alone. Who the hell did this person think they were?
H: What do you even know about us? Nothing. Quit pretending you understand anything about Tristan and me because you clearly don't.
?: I know more than you think. Just like I know he should be with someone else.
Did this person know me? Had I met them before? Laughing darkly, I typed back:
H: Like who? You? You're out of your mind if you think your messages will have any effect on our relationship. Do you really think I'd be scared of some coward hiding behind a screen? Stop messaging me and get a life.
I hit send, immediately blocked the account, and switched my profile to private. My hands shook with uncontainable anger throughout the whole exchange. If this person had something to say, they could say it to my fucking face, I was done with these threats over fucking Instagram.
Closing my eyes, I forced myself to stop fuming and to take a couple of deep breaths. Anger pulsed through me like hot, unrestrained fire. But it wasn't just anger that plagued me; it was a mix of frustration, jealousy, and a touch of shame because of my behavior.
As the anger subsided, it unveiled an underlying emotion. Beneath the fury, a cold, prickling sensation simmered, a hollow ache of vulnerability and uncertainty taking route in my chest. When I pushed past the anger, I realized that I was starting to feel like I was in over my head.
One thing was for sure - I needed to tell Tristan about this. It was the second occurrence, and I suspected it was the same person as before. This was blatant harassment and he'd handled similar situations in the past, so it was better to be safe than sorry. I didn't want him to get hurt because of my carelessness. Come to think of it, I didn't know too much about the other incidents. I made a mental note to bring it up when we had some private time together.
But right now wasn't the right time. Not while he was happy, and enjoying the football festival that he and his team had worked so hard to put together. Timing mattered, and I didn't want to put a damper on his good time.
Frustrated that I'd allowed the messages to affect me like this, I pocketed my phone, surveying my surroundings as I wondered what my next move should be. I wanted to tell Bailey everything and get her opinion on what I should do, but the thought of going back to Skylar made me my stomach turn.
However, that decision was taken from me when Bailey came running, waving her hands at me like a crazy person. Frowning in concern, I started walking to meet her.
"Bay? What's wrong?" I asked as she stopped in front of me, hunching over to catch her breath.
Inhaling deeply, she gasped out, "You just missed the craziest shit! So there was a pretty close match, right? But our team won at the last second when one of our guys tackled the other team's guy before he could get to the end zone. Anyway! Suddenly everyone was rushing the team, and-and," She gasped for air, still breathing heavily, "We were all celebrating and jumping and stuff when Amanda jumped on Tristan and kissed him! In front of everyone!"
"What?" I asked, eyes widening.
"Yeah! And she was like trying to put her tongue in his mouth and everything. But he was quick and pulled away immediately. But still! That bitch! You seriously need to talk to her, Hannah," she insisted, putting her hands on her hips and giving me a stern look.
Instead of my usual anger this time, that hollow emptiness just filled me. Overwhelmed with everything happening today, I rubbed my hands over my face. First Tristan, then Skyler, my mom, some internet creep, and now Amanda? Why was this day quickly turning into the worst?
I thought we'd outgrown the high school drama shit, but apparently not. Amanda wasn't stupid - she had to realize that Tristan had no interest in her nor would he any time soon. So why was she doing this? To get to me?
Letting out a weary breath, I asked, "Is Tristan okay?"
She shrugged. "He seemed fine to me. He pushed her away pretty quickly."
A small flicker of relief darted through me at her words. Relief that he seemed fine and relief that he'd pushed her away.
"Did he say anything to her?" I calmly asked.
"Maybe. I couldn't really hear anything over the noise of the crowd. But why does it matter if he said anything to her? You still need to talk to her," she insisted.
"And say what?" I croaked, "That she should stay away from him because he's mine? He isn't. He's not mine. "
She stared at me in shock. "What are you saying right now? You're just going to let her get away with kissing him?" She narrowed her dark eyes at me. "You're not usually like this. Did something happen? Is it your mom?"
"My mom is fine. I'm fine. I'm just..."
Tired.
I let out a heavy sigh, absently running my hand up and down my arm. "I'll talk to her if I see her, but Tristan can handle himself. He's a grown man - he doesn't need me." Those words tasted bitter though they were true.
Bailey looked at me in disbelief. "Are you sure? You're not usually one to let things slide. Are you not angry about this?"
"It doesn't matter what I feel. And I only confront those people when I have a good reason to. I don't have one now."
Did a part of me want to claw out Amanda's eyes for even daring to touch him? Yes. But that was the easy answer.
"Okay," Bailey conceded, face softening in concern. "If that's what you want."
"It is," I insisted, my throat tight.
"Do you want to head back?" she asked gently, reaching out to hold my hand.
"No." My lips wobbled and my eyes pricked.
She pulled me into her arms, rubbing my back. "Do you want to go anywhere else?"
Bailey's hug engulfed me, a blend of lilies and roses, her hair lightly tickling my nose. As she held me, she accidentally stood on one of my toes, but strangely, even that was comforting.
"No," I shook my head softly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yes," I nodded.
"Okay," Bailey squeezed me in her arms before pulling back to look me in the eyes, "Tell me everything."
And I did. I poured it all out to her, including all of my thoughts and feelings. She listened patiently while I explained in as much detail as possible, keeping her reaction tempered until I'd told her everything. And when I was done, we both settled into a thoughtful silence as I waited for her to say something.
finally, she said, "So... basically, you're constantly internally freaking about the situation with Tristan while pretending everything is fine, Skylar is making you feel like an ugly fish, you might have a potentially dangerous stalker, your mom is your mom, and Amanda has been a constant thorn in your side?"
I blinked at her bluntness and then nodded. "Basically."
"And have you spoken to Tristan about any of this?"
"No. What would I say? I mean, I know I should tell him about the online creep, but everything else? Every time I try, it won't come out."
Or maybe it was the fact that I melted when he looked at me, and all nagging thoughts disappeared when he gave me that dirty grin. It was hard to feel anything remotely negative when Tristan was smiling at me. Or when he was kissing me - which he did a lot.
"How about everything you've just told me?"
"That's not the same. You're you, and he's him. There's a big difference."
She laughed and patted my cheek affectionately. "I'll say it again - you're overthinking things. What are you actually scared of telling him?"
I frowned at that. "I'm not scared. I'm just..."
"Afraid," she deadpanned, "Or in other words - scared."
I winced. "Fine. Maybe I'm a little scared, but it's also not as simple as that. Like, what if I say something to anger him and he wants to break things off early?"
"We both know he's not the angry type. He's a lot more likely to be understanding. Maybe he can help you sort through some of the things troubling you, but he can't read your mind. You need to tell him what's bothering you, especially when it's concerning him."
"Yeah, but what if - because he believes it's for my own good - he ends this? Or he sees that I'm in too deep and he freaks out? Things are good right now, I don't want to ruin it with my stupid problems. I don't want to be the distraction he was worried about," I mumbled, pulling at some loose thread on my jeans.
"If he's the guy you think he is, then there's no reason to worry. If he isn't - then that's his loss anyway. Do you really want to be with a guy you can't talk to? Issues like these have a tendency to resurface when you don't deal with them; they don't go away because you ignore them."
Well, I could always count on Bailey to give it to me straight. Maybe it wasn't what I wanted to hear, but it was true.
"Fine," I gave in, "I'll talk to him, but not yet."
"Then when?"
I gestured at the festival going on around us. "When all of this is done. When he doesn't have so many things he needs to focus on."
"He's a busy man - he's always going to have things to focus on. You're stalling." She pursed her lips, unimpressed.
"It's one more day, Bailey. And then I'll talk to him."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
My only question was to myself: did I treat this weekend like it was the last one I'd have with him?
°•°•°•°
We are in the character development arc, lol. And Hannah's unresolved issues are popping up - just like Bailey said.
Wise words to live by - dick/pussy isn't therapy. Maybe that person makes you want to change and be better, but you're the one who has to work through your own issues (preferably with a trained professional).
A little bit of a heavy chapter, and I'm afraid things aren't going to get any better from here on out. Now is when things are going to start falling into place. I'm so terrified to write the next part because I just know it's going to be difficult.
There are times when writing is too hard, and I think going back to being a reader would make life so much happier and easier. I won't, but I sometimes want to, lol
Happy Reading!
Brooke