Jonah Gibbs had accepted the fact that he maybepossiblyprobably had a crush on Hannah Taylors.
It was a weird feeling, liking somebody, and he'd never really experienced that before so he didn't even actually know for sure that this was really falling in loâfalling in like with a girl. The last time he'd had a crush on someone was in kindergarten, but we all could agree that kindergarten love didn't really count (he didn't even remember her name) or maybe when he watched that one movie Claraâhis sisterâforced him to watch with that wasn't too bad called Begin Again or something about a girl and a boy who sing and whatever and the girl was pretty and he kind of liked her, but we all could agree again that celebrity crush was a whole different thing (he didn't even remember the actress' name).
But Jonah felt nervous when he recited the wedding vow he'd preparedâhis hands were trembling but he hid it pretty wellâand he wanted to barf all over himself because he knew his vow was so damn cheesy and he only realized just then that he'd actually turned into a huge ball of cheese ever since he met Hannah. First that proposal and then this.
He breathed in relief when he finished his vow, and he didn't even dare look at Hannah or at their teacher, but he did see Hannah's hand balling up the paper she'd brought just before she said her own vow.
Jonah bit his lip.
Something changed after that. That was when he realized what it meant when his heart skipped a beat.
-
They were going to have a honeymoon in Paris and Bali (it was supposed to be all over the world for six months but then she got pregnant) and he laughed out loud for the first time after seeing how red her face got while talking about their supposed marriage.
That felt good.
-
They kept having fake dates at the place he worked atâthe one her family ownedâand they did these twenty questions because they had to get to know each other better. For the project.
But Jonah found it enjoyable, sitting down in front of each other and asking questions about each other. He was a bit scared to share little parts of him, but he didn't regret doing so. He hadn't felt so not-lonely in such a long time and he was glad for that. He also didn't mind hearing her laugh.
Or watching every time her face lit up when he made a new kind of caffeinated drink for her. He memorized that look on her face somewhere in his head, and she never saw it but it made him smile to himself, too.
-
They asked each other about their biggest fears and Jonah had this urge somewhere in his chest to just blurt out everything that he'd been hiding to himself, but he didn't want to scare Hannah away so he simply said that his biggest fear was losing anything.
She told him that hers was being forgotten and he wanted to say but how could anybody forget someone as unforgettable as you but then he realized that that was too cheesy where did he get that from anyway.
She'd gotten her heart broken before and he had too, when he had to leave the people he'd called friends over and over again until he stopped bothering to care, and he wondered to himself if she would think of him as weak if she knew that.
The only thing that he knew right now was that he considered Hannah a friend, and it scared him to know that he could leave her anytime soon just like he'd left all of the friends he'd made around the world. Literally around the world.
Then he had to answer a few questions from Mr. Herberg about relationships and decisions and he decided to honestly answer that, yes, he could probably fall in love with Hannah Taylors somewhere in the future. He might not, but there was a chance that he would.
He looked up and made sure that Hannah didn't see the answers he'd written on his paper.
-
Hannah nearly killed herself in frustration today, banging her head against her locker while muttering stuff about their shared fake baby, and Jonah laid her palm in front of her forehead so she wouldn't keep hurting herself and the only thing that ran through his mind was her skin against his and goddammit he was so cheesy he needed to stop.
-
He met her parents today. He'd never met anyone's parents before and it scared the shit out of him but he liked Hannah's family and her little brother and Mrs. Taylors made amazing dinner for them.
And he and Hannah were in her bedroom, and he felt like he was finally inside of her world. They sat on her bed, cross-legged, and talked, and then the conversation grew deeper and grew deeper and the atmosphere slowly changed.
There was a picture on her nightstand, of Hannah and a guy, arms around each other, and a feeling burst in his chest, hot like fire. She didn't answer when he asked if it was her ex-boyfriend (he wondered why she still had a picture of her ex and if he was a tough competition for him) and she asked instead why he cared.
Why? Why did he care? He didn't know. He just did.
Then he asked her if he was a good friend, because if he wasn't a good enough friend then he would never be a good enough boyfriend and oh what the hell was he thinking.
Everything went so fast after that, and suddenly her face was right in front of his and their eyes were closed, but he cheated and opened his eyes to stare at her face, eyelashes slightly fluttering, soft smile on her face, and he smiled back even though she wouldn't see it. He closed his eyes and was beginning to capture her lips with hers when the thought of the guy in the picture came back and made him stop, frozen where he was sitting.
If that was really her ex and if she still cared about him then why would she want to kiss Jonah right here, right now? Would he ever compare to the other guys who had captured Hannah's heart before, whoever they are?
When he saw the disappointment in Hannah's face, he almost felt guilty, but then again she wouldn't have to regret kissing him, so he stood up, and she sound so dejected when she finally told him where he could find the fake doll's bag so he could go home.
She asked, "Why wouldn't I want you to kiss me?"
And he wanted to say because I'm just a nobody guy who doesn't even know how to kiss a girl unlike your exes or any other normal seventeen year-old guy but then she asked him if he liked her and he paused.
I do, Hannah. I like you a lot. And he finally smiled, his back turned to her, even though he started to think what if I had kissed her anyway?
-
He was scared that she was mad at him because he hadn't kissed her last night, but then everything was alright again, and he was even eating an apple he'd stolen from her right now.
He would kiss her next time. That was a promise.
-
They talked to each other at night (because he had to take care of the damn fake baby alone and it was driving him crazy). He never had been on the phone with someone so late at night but with her, it felt so right just to talk.
Jonah had a bad insomnia that always made it hard for him to fall asleep before three a.m., but he fell asleep that night listening to Hannah singing softly over the phone.
-
They had more dates, along with Daisyâthe fake baby dollâand sometimes Jonah wished he could just leave the doll in the car so he could hang out with Hannah without getting interrupted.
And then he took her to his sister's piano recital (this time, it was Daisy-free!) and he was nervous again, but his family already loved her from all the stories he couldn't help but tell during dinner and Hannah looked so beautiful tonight he had to fight the urge to wrap his arms around her because he knew he didn't have the right to.
So he settled on holding her hand while watching his sister play a song for the crowd, and he stole a glance at Hannah to see her smiling at his sister on the stage, and a weird feeling fluttered in his chest like a thousand different butterflies tickling his insides and so he squeezed her hand to make sure she wasn't just a dream.
He loved this moment so much he wished he could record it and play it like a DVD.
-
Jonah was a sucky date planner and no matter how many different advices he got from his little sister, he just couldn't make this date good enough for Hannah.
Hannah looked pretty like she always did but tonight, she looked even prettier with that smile on her face. He was scared that she was going to hate the date, but she seemed to be enjoying the movie they were watching and she kept smiling and snuggling with him on the couch and having her in his arms felt so right he didn't ever want to get up.
And he cooked for her, because cooking was the only thing he was actually really good at, and they had dinner under the stars and still Hannah didn't stop smiling and he loved that so much about her. Because she still appreciated him even though she knew he was so shit at this.
And then they kissedâoh, god, he had no idea that this was how heaven tasted like. His skin was tingling and his heart was jumping and he didn't want to stop this moment. They both already knew that by that moment, they finally had each other. He finally admitted to her how much he liked her.
But still, he still had to make sure that she didn't regret kissing him and dating him, and she replied by kissing the shit out of him. He smiled, his heart warm, and he knew that from that moment on he would do anything and everything to make sure that Hannah wasn't going anywhere.
-
Hannah had been hurt. Somewhere before they even met. She had nightmares about it. And a scar above her left eyebrow, along with some others that he couldn't see.
He traced the deep scar with his finger and nearly flinched at the thought of how painful it must have been. The more she told him about her nightmares and the other scars she had on her body because of the car accident, the more he wanted to hug her and shield her away from all the bad things in the world.
He hurt for her, and the thought of the pain that she experienced kept him up all night. It was already bad enough with the undiagnosed insomnia he had, and he kept tossing and turning around on the ground in his not-so-secret hiding place. The night was dripping cold and so dark, but he still couldn't fall asleep.
He shuddered when he thought about the night he couldn't forget, the reason why it was never easy for him to fall asleep because his head just would never stopped reminding him about it. There was fear crawling inside his chest, fear that Hannah's night and his night that changed both of their lives were somehow related to each other, but he shook that thought off because there was just no way.
There was just no way. He wouldn't be able to live with it.
But he couldn't sleep, and he tried closing his eyes and imagined Hannah's smiling face so he could fall asleep but what he saw instead was Hannah Taylors and blood and dying and now he was just so scared.
So scared because while he wanted to be able to protect Hannah from all the bad things in the world, he still couldn't protect her from himself.
-
Jonah surrendered and closed his eyes trying to remember the night where he heard a crash and a boom and shattered glasses for his own sake, but he just couldn't remember it clearly. It was all just a blurry foggy image of trees and cars and smoke and running away.
He held Hannah's shaking body as she cried. Another nightmare. It was getting bad and he didn't know why, she always seemed like she was fine before this. But now she was sad and he was sad too and he really wanted to make her feel alright so he could feel alright, too.
-
Hannah Taylors punched her ex-boyfriend and Jonah Gibbs was so proud because that guy had hurt her before and he deserved that punch.
He loved her because she could take care of herself, so when one day he fucked up like that Daniel Butcher asshole did, Hannah could easily punch the stars out of him to knock sense back into his mind.
-
Jonah could have sworn he was slowly falling in love with Hannah, and the thought excited and scared him at the same time because how could you be falling in love with someone you had only known for a short time? How could he be sure that this was even falling in love? How could he be sure that this was right?
How could he be sure that he was the right one for her and she for him?
Would it hurt him if one day he found out that they weren't for each other?
-
It was annoying how Hannah kept things from him when he already poured everything to her, but then he realized that he was a hypocrite because he hadn't poured everything to her anyway.
There he lay on his bed, shaking, clutching his head as he tried to block out the images of dark road and a crash and shaking ground and white smoke and running away.
He held a fist into his hand and screamed soundlessly, and he wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep but his body wouldn't allow him.
He pulled at his hair, but it still couldn't fix anything. It still couldn't erase the night from his mind. And he was still guilty and angry and screwed up.
-
He danced with her in the rain on her birthday, and he had no idea how to dance but he still loved the way their bodies fit into each other like they belonged together.
Maybe it was crazy because he hadn't known her for long and they'd only been dating for a short time, but now he knew that he wouldn't mind more dances in the rain with her in the future. He wouldn't mind at all.
-
Jonah rarely ever slept at all, and so he rarely ever had a nightmare. But that night, his worst nightmare came to life.
There were a lot of crying and screaming and I-love-you turned I-hate-yous, and Jonah did love her too but how could he love her when he was the cause of the worst pain she'd ever experienced? He never fully remembered what happened that night, but he remembered the date and the other car and blood and running away. He must've done something that night, and he was convinced that he had. He was the reason why she had that deep scar on her forehead and the nightmares she frequently had. He had to be the reason why.
He never hated himself more at that moment, and he wished Hannah would just punch him the way she punched Daniel Butcher but even he knew that it wouldn't make anything better. It wouldn't erase the fateful night four years ago and he hated fate so much for being so cruel, for taking away the only thing that meant so much to him right now.
He understood why she wouldn't look at him. He wouldn't want to look at himself if he were her. He had caused her pain, both physical and mental. He sent her into coma. He gifted her with cruel nightmares. He wished he had burned his dad's old car, the one he had driven that night.
-
Hannah was missing.
He saw her driving away from his street. Driving. Away. Alone. He remembered that she never liked driving after the accident, but she was driving and probably running away even though she was scared of driving and he didn't even know where she was going.
And he could only watch her leave before returning to his front porch where she had left the fake baby and her kittenâthe kitten he gave her for her birthdayâfor him to take care of. God damn it, Hannah.
-
Jonah was scared because Hannah was still missing and her family was freaking out and he didn't know what to say when Mr. Taylors called him, his voice trembling with fear.
So he called Hannah's dead phone. And called. And called. And called. And left messages after messages that went ignored. He just wanted to know that she was alright wherever she was but her phone was still dead. He didn't care if Hannah hated him and didn't want to talk to him but he just needed to know if she was okay. He drove around town but even then he already knew that there was no useâHannah was most likely leaving town. That was why she had left the cat and the baby. She wouldn't be coming back in a few days. At the least.
He was scared because he didn't even know if Hannah knew how to drive a car properly and maybe he should've just followed her. What was he thinking? What was she thinking? Was she running away because of him? The fake baby behind him wouldn't stop crying and he wanted to snap it into half.
He went to grab his phone from the floorâhe'd thrown it after the tenth voice message but it surprisingly hadn't diedâand he was just about to call Hannah's parents when his phone suddenly lit up with Mr. Taylor's name on the screen.
His heartbeat started to pick up as the worst case scenarios popped into his head, and his hands were shaking when he answered the call.
"She's alright. She just called me," the elder man said as a greeting, his voice slightly breathless.
Jonah could cry in relief, but he managed a nod. "Where is she right now, Mr. Taylors?"
There was a pause. "She's with a family. They're coming back soon."
"Okay. Okay, that's good to know." Jonah closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face. "Thank you, Mr. Taylors."
"Thank you, Jonah, for caring so much about my daughter." Jonah could only hum into the phone. "You should give her a call."
He swallowed. "I will. Thank you again." And then he hung up.
Then he called Hannah again, and this time her phone wasn't dead but the dial tone kept ringing and so he left another voice message.
"Hannah..."
-
He didn't know if she would ever forgive him, but he would keep trying.
She meant way too much to him, and he didn't want to let her leave. Even if he had to wait for her to come back. He would wait. He gladly would.
But the guilt was still there and he didn't know if he could fix anything or if he had the right to dare to hope that she would still love him after everything.
Even though right now whenever he saw her faceâor thought about herâhe kept seeing blood running down her face and it scared him so much.
-
Jonah saw it in her eyes when he tried to talk to her in the hallway, when she told him that she needed time.
She wanted him to wait. That's why she told him she needed time. Because she wanted him to know that she would come back, and she wanted him to be there when she finally did.
Or maybe he was just looking too much into things but he swore he saw her eyes, how they lingered and then strayed and then lingered again, focusing on his gray ones.
And he dared to hope again. Maybe it would take long, but a voice somewhere in the back of his head told him that Hannah Taylors was worth the wait.
-
Jonah didn't know what he felt when he held that white shirt in his hand, the one with a faint pink stain, the one he had worn when he first learned Hannah Taylor's name.
Then again, he hadn't known what to feel in the past few days. Everything was a jumbled mess of emotions blurring into one another, and some days he could feel angryelatedscaredhopelessmadhopeful at the same time.
But when he looked up and saw her eyes and listened to her talk, he knew that he was feeling confused. About the whole thing. About the genuineness of her love for himâor if it was just another attraction or infatuation or obsessionâand he couldn't help but wonder if anything was real at all for her.
-
He stared and stared and stared and stared and stared at the shirt Hannah had kept, and the one emotion that stood out right now was clear.
Fear.
He was scared to think that he wouldn't have known Hannah Taylor's name at all if she hadn't dumped her sodaâpurposefullyâon his chest that day.
He was scared to think that everything could have easily ended up differently.
-
He asked her to meet him at the dinerâit was closed for holidays todayâand he waited patiently for her.
And waited. And waited. And waited. And the little arms in the clock kept rotating and still he waited but the diner remained empty.
He'd made his decision and he was finally ready to tell her, but she didn't comeâeven though she'd said she wouldâand he had no idea what her reason why but it still hurt to wait for hours only to come home empty handed.
-
He stared at his computer, re-watching the memories he'd recorded when the thought of Hannah Taylors only gave him warmth underneath his skin and not pain.
The smile she sent to the camera hurt him so bad, but once the series of videos ended, he clicked play. Again.
-
She found him at his hiding place. Near the river, under the trees and falling leaves. And his heart still did that thing again, skipping one of its beats when he found her eyes. He liked how his heartâand the rest of his bodyâstill reacted the same upon her presence, only with an added touch of guilt and regret and fear and thoughts about that night.
And just as he was beginning to feel the rush of that guilt and regret and fear and thoughts about that night, one sentence came out of her lips that left him unable to breathe.
He was never involved in the crash at all.
That was a good thing, wasn't it? A damn good thing. But why was he still feeling confused? Why did he feel like he needed to run away instead of closer to where Hannah was standing? Why was he still feeling like a mess inside?
Did you remember what really happened?
Did you actually feel the crash? Were you hurt? Can you recall exactly everything that happened that night? Can you, Jonah, can you, Jonah, can you, Jonah, can you?
His head spun and it was a wonder how he could kept his feet standing firmly on the ground.
But now he thought about it and he felt like he'd found a giant missing piece of puzzle. No, he never actually remembered other than foggy bits and pieces of memories. No, he had gone home without a little scratch on his skin. No, he couldn't, because he couldn't remember anything other than the terrible sounds of wires against the road and glass cracking and car alarm and guilt.
He tried, again, to remember, to reach the top shelf inside his brain where he'd stored the full memory about that night, but he kept failing as if something was blocking his way.
She asked him if he was mad, and he wanted to tell her that he wasn't, but he wasn't even sure himself. How could he be sure? During their relationship, Hannah had been so secretive about everything about her past and he had to always be the one to ask, and now here she was, spewing out everything and too many things about the past and he was tired.
His head began to hurt, so he asked to be alone. In his house, inside his room, on his bed, so he could think. He didn't even see her face as he turned away to get to his car. He needed to think. He needed to remember. He needed to make sure that Hannah was right, that he hadn't done anything and that he could rid himself free of this burden he'd carried for the past four years of his life.
As he drove, his mind kept whirring with thoughts, and he needed to remind himself to focus on the road in front of him. Not long after he'd started the car, rain began pouring down and he turned on the wiper on the windshield so he could still see the road clearly.
Then he hit the brakes. So hard that he almost bounced forward. Rain. It was raining. Hannah, alone near the river where he'd left her. Raining.
Fuck.
Heart beating fast, he made a u-turn and sped toward the place where he'd left her. He felt so stupid for leaving her when he knew that she couldn't get home. As if that wasn't bad enough, it was fucking raining now and a bunch of cuss spewed out of his mouth repeatedly. How the hell could he have left her there?
But it was empty. The field, the river, he even searched in the tree, under the pouring rain. There was no sign of Hannah Taylors and he was beginning to get worried. He only hoped that somehow she'd already gotten herself home, but still, he was angry at himself for walking away from her when all he'd wanted before today was for Hannah to never walk away from him.
Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Jonah drove home, took a bath, and lay down on his bed trying to remember again.
-
He spent all night trying to remember. He failed.
-
Hannah came to school sick.
Hannah was looking very, very sick. He knew it was because of him. She caught a bad cold because she was out in the rain. Because he'd left her there alone.
He caught her eyes, and for a while, he was paralyzed. He couldn't move, couldn't blink. The battle that his mind and his heart were having felt like forever, but it actually was just a flash before his feet made him turn around.
But who said he wanted to turn around? Who gave his eyes the permission to look away? Who gave his feet the permission to walk away? Who gave his body the permission to create more distance between him and her?
Not him, that was for sure.
He realized way too late when he was way too far. So he cursed himself. And banged his fists on the nearest wall. His knuckles hurt, but that wasn't what he was thinking about.
How the hell did I get here? Where had those blue eyes gone? Why was I here instead of by her side telling her that I was okay with the past that I was ready to put behind?
He needed to go back. One last timeâor maybe more. He didn't think he could keep himself away from her any longer.
So he turned back around and ran. The hallways were empty and he wasn't supposed to be here, but all those supposed-tos were thrown out of the window.
He needed to see her. He needed. Needed. Needed.
And she was there, her back turned to him, forehead on the metal locker door, and he didn't know why or how but his chest started to hurt.
She turned around and leaned against the lockers behind her. Eyes closed. Forehead sweaty. Lips pale. Fists clenched. Unaware of his presence.
Something was wrong. It reminded him so much of that day when Hannah was sick with bad cramps and he had to carry her home.
His eyes widened and he reached out. Just in time when her legs decided to give out and her body fell like she was made of feathers.
And his chest hurt even more.
-
She mumbled in her sleep feverishly.
"Ssh. It's okay. I've got you, it's okay. Just go back to sleep," he whispered softly to her as he carried her to the infirmary room.
He felt her stir, and he secured her in his arms. He put her down on the bed after informing the school nurse, and then gently pressed his palm against Hannah's forehead.
Too warm.
She kept mumbling words and he kept stroking her hair, whispering calming words into her ear. He made the nurse contact her family and then went back to check on her, still sleeping, now more soundly, and he touched her hot skin again, trying to ignore her pale lips.
Then those pale lips moved again.
"J'nah." She was slurring out his name, and his heart stopped. "JâJ'nah."
"Yeah, Hannah?" he replied quietly, but her eyes were still closed. "I'm here," he added.
"Mm," she mumbled. "M'sry." Jonah's forehead creased. "M'sorry," she whispered, more clearly now.
If his heart had stopped before, then he didn't know what it was doing now. "What for, honey?" he replied anyway, his throat closing, even if she still wouldn't hear him anyway.
"Mad. Mad, I'm s'rryâ"
"Ssh, I'm not mad at you." Jonah watched as her body stopped stirring, the only movement was her chest slowly rising and falling. She was fully asleep now, so he reached out and brushed her hair away from her face. He held her hand for a while, realizing that he had missed holding her hand so bad, and then sighed to himself.
He wanted to wait by her side, but he didn't know if she wanted to see his face when she awoke. So he left after giving her a last glance and telling the nurse to take care of her.
-
Jonah didn't know what to expect when he showed up at Hannah's front door later that day, but he sure wasn't expecting the guy from the picture Hannah had kept on her nightstand to open the door for him.
They both stared, wordlessly, with calculating looks in their eyes, as if they were both trying to connect pieces and understand.
"Are you Jonah?" the other guy spoke first, and Jonah barely managed a nod. He held out his hand. "I'm Tony. Hannah's brother."
-
Rage was all he felt when he sat on the couch, listening to Tony's side of the story, the full story of what had happened, everything that he couldn't remember.
Tony had seen Jonah's car before he blacked out. He was informed later in the hospital that someone had called 911 for him and Hannah. He connected the dots first. Jonah was left wordless.
Then came the part that he hatedâthe seconds leading to the accident. He wasn't sure that Tony would be willing to tell him, but he asked anyway, and the older guy hesitated before telling him everything he remembered. Rage, rage, rage, burning in his blood, running through his vein. Knowing that Hannah's brother had done to her. Knowing that he was the cause of it all.
But Hannah had forgiven himâmaybe she was biased because Tony was her brother and she had missed him too much, but Jonah quickly realized that feeling so angry wouldn't do anyone any good. Four years had gone anyway. Tony seemed to hate himself enough as it was, and Jonah could relate to that burden even though he now knew that he had nothing to do with the accident at all.
He still remembered how the guilt had kept him up day and night, made him feel sick to his stomach, made him hate the reflection he saw in the mirror. He knew that was what Tony had feltâor maybe was still feelingâand he decided that it was enough punishment, though he wanted to punch his face so bad.
Tony asked if Jonah wanted to see Hannah, who was sleeping off her fever in her room. Jonah shook his head, and told him that he'd better go home.
-
Jonah sat on his bed, thinking about everything that had happened in the past few weeks.
It all seemed too much, but he was glad that he had gone through it all and now it was all over. The talk with Tony had cleared a large part of his brain, lifting off the fog that clouded his memories. The older guy managed to convince him that if he wanted to, he could still try to make things alright with Hannah again. He just hoped that he wasn't wrong about how Hannah would still want to try again.
He watched the video again, the one that he would be presenting to the class tomorrow, and now the pain of seeing her face was gone. It was only warmth spreading underneath his skin, and a small smile blossoming on his face when he heard her laugh.
Jonah Gibbs was madly in love with Hannah Taylors, and nothing could stop it, not even the bumps in the road he'd encountered in the past few weeks.
So he wrote a small note in a piece of paper, and planned to slip it into her locker tomorrow.
Where we had our first kiss in the rain. I'll see you there.
Satisfied with his small note, he fell back on the bed, and for the first time in such a long time, he fell asleep with the thought of Hannah's smile.
He would try again. Nothing would stop him this time.