The Apocalypse (2 page)

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Authors: Jack Parker

BOOK: The Apocalypse
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"You're breaking my heart, Ayers." His tone was light and mocking, instantly arousing suspicion in Hannah. "This is the third week in a row you've gone without tater tots. And I accept—"

"Fourth week, you ass. But go on."

Jake laughed a little, but it was as pretend as his smile. "As I was saying, I accept the credit for your unfavorable situ—"

"Yadda, yadda, yadda." Hannah jerked her shoulder away from his hand, but Jake just rolled his eyes. "Do you have
a
point, or am I needlessly listening to my brain cells committing suicide because of your voice?"

"You should know I'd never needlessly put you at a disadvantage." Jake's smile almost looked genuine now; there was a certain twinkle in his green eyes. "In fact, you should be proud, Ayers. I'm about to offer you a really good deal here."

Her eyebrows rose. "Great. Do it faster."

"Patience never has been your strong point, huh?" Jake was about to elaborate on Hannah's faults further—she just knew it—but her impatient waving must have prompted him to comply with her demand. "Here's the deal. Are you listening?"

"Yes. I'm listening."

Looking his smuggest, Jake showed the grin that so many girls fell in lust with on a daily basis. "You can have all the tater tots you want, as long as you sit at my table with Sharpe."

Hannah stared at Jake without any emotion on her pale face. Ethan Sharpe was one of Jake's best friends, and for some time now, Ethan had showed a strange attraction to Hannah. It really freaked her out, but for tater tots…

"What do you say, Ayers?"

"I say you've got the wrong girl," Hannah snapped, flicking her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. Jake didn't
look
surprised, so Hannah refused to smirk, which was a hard thing to do in his presence. "I already have
a
boyfriend. You know that, and so does Ethan."

Jake scoffed. "I'm surprised
you
know that. When's the last time Hudson got his nose out of a book to actually talk to you?" Hannah opened her mouth to retort, but Jake clamped his hand over her mouth, succeeding in infuriating her more. "But hey, it's cool. Sharpe could do a lot better than you, that's for sure."

Jerking her head away from Jake's hand, Hannah stepped away from him, but, naturally, Jake was only a step behind her. Ignoring him, Hannah grabbed
a
Hershey chocolate bar and a bag of Fritos. Oh, the foods she had to stoop to, just because Jake liked to piss her off. Even now, she was pretty sure she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, a reminder that he was lurking everywhere she could ever go, even at home. There was no escaping him; there never had been.

Hannah's mother and Jake's mother had been good friends in high school, and when they'd gone to the same college, they'd become best friends. Somehow even after Diane Allen had spent seventeen years raising Jake as a single mother and after Patricia Ayers had been married for eighteen years with two kids, they were still best friends, despite their differences. How convenient for them that they were also neighbors, which had been planned since college, or so Hannah thought she had been told. Hannah tended to tune out everything that could even potentially involve Jake.

After Hannah paid for her unhealthy lunch, she walked toward the Dasani vending machine for a bottled water and thought about how she and Jake had always hated each other. She'd sat through hours of home videos with her mom, Jake's mom, and Jake one rainy Saturday and saw that she and Jake hadn't even gotten along in infancy. In the video, which had been filmed when they were about two years old, Jake had snatched Hannah's Barbie and promptly torn off her head. In retaliation, Hannah had hit him in the face with his own toy fire truck, leaving a gash behind.

Watching that video was probably the only time that Jake and Hannah had given each other authentic smiles.

It was downhill from there though. When the kids were four, Diane and Patricia had taken them trick-or-treating together, and Jake had purposely torn Hannah's princess costume when no one was looking. Of course, Hannah had taken her orange plastic pumpkin and beat Jake over the head with it until the mothers broke them apart.

Since their birthdays were unluckily a mere fourteen days apart, Jake and Hannah had often celebrated their birthdays together as children. At their fifth birthday, Hannah had insulted Jake somehow, and he'd reacted by slamming her head into the cake. Thus, the cake fight. Following punishment for their naughty behavior, the mothers had eventually laughed, and since then, there was a cake fight at every birthday.

The traditions that she shared with Jake made Hannah fume.

As the years had passed, the feuds became more and more serious. At the tender age of nine, Hannah's special piano recital for her grandparents had been sabotaged by Jake. So when he got that new dirt bike a month later, she'd deflated the tires.

When they were thirteen, Jake started
a
vicious tale—forget that it was truthful—that Hannah peed her pants when a clown approached her during a shared vacation. To get back at him, Hannah had snuck up on Jake when he was flirting with a girl that Hannah knew he had a crush on. Much to Jake's disbelief, Hannah had sacrificed her own first kiss to give Jake his in front of his crush. Revengefully, Jake had tried to drown her in a bathtub, but Hannah had given him
a
bloody nose in the struggle. The sight of blood, unfortunately, made Hannah pass out, so Jake took the opportunity to cut a gap of hair from the back of her head.

That wasn't the half of it, but Hannah's thoughts were interrupted when she plunked her tray down beside her friends'. Tisha Wilson was glaring at Libby Heatherly viciously. Hannah had ignored Tisha's pleas to slow down earlier and expected a lecture about it, but clearly Libby was the one Tisha had issues with.

"I can't believe you kissed Brent," Tisha griped.

Ah,
Hannah thought. It was about Brent Riggs, who was, coincidentally, Jake's other best friend. Tisha fantasized daily about how if Hannah would break up with Greg Hudson to date Ethan, Hannah could get Brent to date Tisha. Not caring for the conversation, Hannah tore open her bag of Fritos and started munching.

"It was just a little peck," Libby insisted, stabbing her fork into a salad. She was probably the prettiest of Hannah's friends, what with her long, sleek dark brown hair. Big blue eyes, framed by the darkest of lashes, stood out against Libby's perma-tan complexion. Of course she was
a
cheerleader. "Barely anything."

"Uh-huh," Tisha remarked dryly. Her appearance was plainer with light brown waves and blue-green eyes, but she had the best fashion sense. Everyone, particularly Tisha, knew it too. She also had a prominent role on the Kickline, Butler's dance team. "That's why he keeps looking over here. Because you didn't do diddly-squat with him."

"I actually don't think he's looking at Lib," the fourth and final girl pointed out. Morgan Owens was the smart one, so when she said it, the other girls believed it. "If you notice,
all
of those guys keep looking over here."

Hannah, Libby, and Tisha glanced at Morgan briefly and then turned their heads simultaneously toward the table the guys were sitting at. Jake, Ethan, and Brent were talking softly together, casually glancing at the table full of girls. Several other guys were sitting at their table, munching on tater tots (to Hannah's annoyance), but all of them were engaging in other conversations.

"Is my hair okay?" Tisha hissed, beginning to panic. Her eyes went to Hannah. "Do I have anything in my teeth? What if they come over here? I don't want to look bad. Do I look all right?"

"You look fine," Morgan soothed, not even taking a minute to smooth her straight blonde hair. She shot a glance at Hannah's tray. "It's Han who's going to have to worry about looking all right."

Both Tisha and Libby glanced at Hannah's lunch immediately. Tisha clucked her tongue in disapproving horror, but Libby grinned widely. "Junk food diet yet again, Hannah?"

"You'd better believe it," Hannah answered proudly. She broke
a
square of chocolate from the Hershey bar and raised it in a salute to Libby. "I thrive on calories. If they're accompanied by carbs and fat…even better."

Libby laughed and then made a face. "I wish I had your metabolism."

Hannah shrugged and devoured a handful of Fritos in what had to be record time. Libby and Tisha were talking about Brent again, but Hannah was thinking about her metabolism.
Thanks for that, Libby,
she thought. Libby had a point though; Hannah could eat whatever she wanted, but everything that went into her mouth fanned out in her five-feet, five-inch body, leaving no evidence of excessive eating. It was a pretty good thing too, since Hannah ate more junk food than was healthy for her. As Libby once said, if there were justice in the world, Hannah would weigh three hundred pounds.

"Oh great," Morgan groaned suddenly, putting her ham and cheese sandwich down on her tray. Surprised, Hannah followed Morgan's brown eyes and saw what she was talking about. Jake, Ethan, and Brent were on their way over. "Can I run away? I'm sure there's something in the library that I haven't read yet."

Tisha scoffed. "Doubt it."

"Hello, ladies," Ethan Sharpe greeted, the first of his friends to speak. In Hannah's opinion, Jake looked bored already. "How are we doing on this lovely, lovely day? A day that is, in fact, so lovely because of you ladies."

Libby rolled her bright eyes to the heavens and sighed deeply. "Just fine, thank you," she answered crisply.
She plays so hard to get,
Hannah noted mentally. "How are you, Ethan? Brent? Jake?"

Brent didn't make eye contact when he talked. "Fine too."

Tisha shot Libby a dirty look, but it went mostly unnoticed. The only ones who saw were Libby herself and Hannah. Clearly, Tisha blamed Libby's kiss for Brent's uncharacteristic quietness.

"And how are you, Miss Hannah?" Ethan asked, majestically depositing a bag of tater tots in front of her. Hannah's eyes widened with surprise. "I trust that you're well."

Morgan poked the bag of tater tots critically. "Oh but she won't be. What are you trying to do, Ethan? Clog her arteries? I can practically see the grease collecting in the bottom of that bag."

Libby grinned. "That's just the way Han likes it. What do you say, Hannah?"

Rolling her eyes, Hannah picked up the bag and held it back out to Ethan. "I say no thanks. I don't accept pity tots." She glanced at Jake and saw him roll his eyes and mutter something at Brent, who smiled. "Actually, scratch that."

The others at the table watched as Hannah tore into the bag, poured the contents onto a napkin, and popped a tater tot into her mouth. She chewed slowly, unsure of why everyone had taken such an interest in watching her eat. For
a
second, Hannah thought she saw a look pass between the guys and nearly spat the food out of her mouth. Jake probably spit on it.

"How do you like them?" Ethan's voice was particularly charming, and if he'd been Jake, Hannah would have known that something was up. "Crispy enough for you, my darling?"

"Yes, thank you," Hannah answered, scooting her chair backward so she could get up. "Just needs some ketchup."

Without waiting for anyone to say anything or saying anything herself, Hannah sped away from the table and went to the condiment counter. Large pumps held ketchup, mayonnaise, barbeque sauce, and ranch dressing. Plucking
a
tiny white bowl from a stack, Hannah pumped it full of ketchup and hurried back across the cafeteria. When her blue eyes landed on the table, she groaned. Jake had, naturally, taken her seat.

"Move," she spat him, gouging his shoulder intensely with a finger. He just looked up at her and offered a smile. "Jake, I'm serious. Get out of my chair."

Ethan patted his lap, as he and Brent had pulled up chairs. "You can take this seat, doll," Ethan promised, grinning. "I don't bite unless you tell me upfront that you like it."

The guys laughed, and even Tisha and Libby shared a giggle. That didn't help Hannah's mood at all, which seemed to be depreciating quicker by the minute. She glared at Ethan irately and was about to reply when she noticed Jake's hand. The jerk had just swiped a tater tot from her napkin, and it apparently wasn't the first one either, given that the majority of them had disappeared.

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