Hanna Haley

          "So is this your new method of coping?" I asked her with a smile on my face. Hanna looked up from her notebook at me. A couple strands of pure blonde highlighted hair fell in her vibrant eyes. She had ocean eyes that could pierce through you like icicles.
         "What other way is there? Smoke weed and get drunk? No thank you, Matthew." she replied, ripping off a piece of her bagel and popping it into her mouth. She never ate anything whole. Instead, she ripped it piece by piece and ate slowly. I never hurried to anywhere, so I never cared. Hanna ducked her head back into the spiral and her pen moved furiously fast. I lifted my camera and lightly tapped the shutter button.
                   "Are you taking another picture of me?" she asked, not looking up.
         "No," I lied, looking at the picture. "I was simply seeing if my camera worked."
         A laugh came from her, followed by, "Alright. Let me see." Hanna was incredible at telling lies, even when she wasn't looking. I turned the camera to face her. She gazed upon the candid for a moment, her adrenaline eyes relaxing. She looked back up at me.
         "Okay," she began.
         "Okay?"
         "yeah, okay. Keep it. Just promise not to do it again."
         "Okay."
         "Promise?" she held out her pinky finger.
         "I promise." I said, hooking mine with her soft skin.
         She looked at me with a serious face for a moment longer, then shut the notebook. She clicked her pen and began to put her things away. As she was doing this, I took a quick look outside. The sky was a cold December overcast, how it always was lately. Every day it was like this, Hanna would always mutter under her breath a phrase she read from a book somewhere, 'The sky is overcast and so is my head'. He never went a day without seeing that written somewhere or uttered from her finely defined red lipstick lips. She finished her food and threw it away, giving me a raised eyebrow and an impatient stance. She wore a red utility coat and black leggings, gray striped socks that rose past her black combat books. A long brown knit sweater went to her knees. I smiled at her and she returned the favor, sliding on her circular sunglasses. "It's not light outside," I said. I think Hanna rolled her eyes at me, a small breath of laughter escaping my mouth.
         "You tell me that every day," she said. "I know it's not light outside, Matty. But I like it. It's how I feel, so why not see the same way?" I swallowed, faking my smile, covering the concern.
         Hanna lived like this since last year. She was successful, straight A's and a loud, extroverted personality. One divorce and break up later, and she was hollow and in the rut of constant sorrow, though never really showing it. I read her like a book, but this time I can't read ahead.
         I walked past her and opened the heavy glass door and held it open as she walked through. We walked to her pine green jeep, she unlocked it, and we climbed into further cold.
         She started the car and immediately plugged in her iPhone and begun to play another rock indie band I had never heard of. I tried to hum along anyway, until Hanna silenced me. "Don't sing if you don't know it," she says with annoyance every time I try. I respond in a shrug and instead lightly drum my fingers on the arm rest. This, Hanna says, she can tolerate.
         "Seth has been trying to talk to me lately." she starts, taking a left on the main road. It's busy, and snowing now. I can see an accident happening soon. I begin to pray it won't be us.
         "Oh, really?" I say, not even trying to swallow my hatred. Seth broke her heart. He's the reason she's like this.
         "Yeah," she says, stopping at a red light. "he asked for lunch this weekend. On Sunday." she says. I can tell she's uncomfortable. "I thought you were coming with me to church." I reply casually, looking over at her. "I mean, I haven't told him I want to, yet. But I think it'd be good. We can reach closure, for once. Maybe."
         "Maybe." I repeat.
         "Yeah. Maybe." and like that, the conversation is over for her. "Just be careful, Hanna. You don't need this." she shrugs, the light turns green, and I leave it be.
         We arrive at my house before I really register it. I ran through all of the possible outcomes, all the possible conversations they could have come Sunday. It was another time I couldn't read ahead, and it made me uneasy. "Thanks for dinner," she says. I don't unbuckle my seat.
         "It's nothing." I reply with a smile. She gave me a faint one back. "Well," she says, facing away from me. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? Seven." I nod, and climb out of the car, walking up the sidewalk and to my front door. I opened it to the welcoming sound of laughter, love, and family. "Hey, Matt!" my little sister, Sarah, says. "come play cards with us!" I smile and sit down, for the first time in a long while, not worried about Hanna Haley.