Free How it Ends by Laura Wiess Page B

a license but they went easy on him because of his circumstances—”
    “You knew all this and you never told me?” I said.
    “Why would you have cared?” she said, amused. “Everybody’s got a story behind them, Hanna. You know that. You read.”
    “Well yeah, but that’s fiction. This is like, real .”
    “Well, don’t feel sorry for him because his mom’s okay now and he quit partying and got his brown belt in karate and his GED. He’s an apprentice stone mason and that’s union so he makes really good money. And he’s got that new bike and…oh, yeah, you already know about that part,” she said, nudging me and grinning.
    “Yeah,” I said absently.
    Can you even? I mean, I had no idea there could be so much to karate guy.
    Jesse.
     
    I got home as Gran and Grandpa were just leaving so I changed and walked the deer path with them, putting down the corn and some apples as a holiday treat because the second wave of deer-hunting season began at sunrise, the day after Christmas.
    On the way back I couldn’t help wondering if peace on Earth really was supposed to be a sentiment people meant for only a day.
    And right as I crossed through the gap in the little woods between our properties, I got a text from Seth.
    Merry Xmas .
    I stared at it with growing wonder, and then, shaking a little from both cold and happiness, replied, Merry Xmas to you, too .
    A pause, and then: Party at Connor’s NY’s Eve. Want to go?
    I clapped my hand over my mouth, eyes huge, and let out a muffled half laugh, half sob, then, getting a grip, punched out, What about Bailey? Freaked, deleted it, and replied, I need a ride.
    I’ll come get you.
    I said, OK, and danced all the way home.
     
    I called Sammi and told her how he might come get me on New Year’s Eve.
    “Do you believe him?” she said. “I mean, I’m not trying to jinx it or anything but…”
    “I know,” I said because she didn’t need to say it: What if he said he was coming and then just didn’t show up?
     
    Seth hasn’t texted me again but I’ve been operating as if he is going to come over and maybe even hang out for a while before the party, so I spent an insane day cleaning my room, trying to find a way to make it sexy and alluring and comfy and a major reflection of me all without letting my mother know that’s what I was trying to do.
    Well, I mean the sexy and alluring parts.
    “So who is this guy that I’ve never met or even heard mentioned that I’m supposed to let upstairs into my fifteen-year-old daughter’sbedroom on New Year’s Eve?” my father said, lowering the paper and arching an eyebrow. “Want to fill me in on this, Hanna, or am I going to have to grill him when he gets here?”
    “Mom,” I said, giving her an impatient look. “You said you wouldn’t let him do that!”
    “Really,” he said, sounding interested and glancing at my mother, who had covered her face with her hands and was shaking her head. “What else am I not allowed to do in my own home when Prince Charming is here?”
    “Call him that, ” I said, freaking. “And please, please don’t wear those dorky reading glasses or do that killer-grip handshake thing or make two thousand trips upstairs to get dumb things, because it’s so obvious—”
    “Good,” he said, nodding. “I want it to be obvious. No hanky-panky—”
    “Mom! That word!”
    “You’re not allowed to say hanky-panky, either,” my mother said, giving him a twinkling look. “But don’t worry, it’s not only you. I’m not allowed to wear my bunny-head slippers—”
    “God, no,” I said, shuddering.
    “Or sing any of my lame songs or…what was the last one?” she said.
    “Ask him if he’s thought about what he’s going to go to college for because that’s just so…ugh…I can’t stand it,” I said, not missing the wry look they exchanged. “And don’t wear your ugly mom jeans, either, okay? Wear the newer ones.”
    “You getting all this?” my father said.
    “Let