Missing Numbers

Chapter 4- Nolan

 The next day, Hannah seemed, well, quiet. She wouldn't talk to me at all and whenever we passed by the main hallway, she looked anxiously at the doors, as if someone was constantly tracing her steps. I got worried for the poor girl. I mean, I knew how she was always pressured. Hannah had been through so many hardships for a high schooler.  Being the second oldest of our crew (Connor is older than me by a few weeks), I sort of made sure that it was still intact.

 Later that day, Hannah finally spoke to me during lunch. She was slouching all alone in the midst of the busy cafeteria. She wore her blue hoodie that said Groove on-2008, which made absolutely no sense to me, but you could never be sure with Hannah. Hannah always had a reason for doing something. She matched this with her jeans and worn out black Converse. Her hair was messily tied in a high bun, and today she was wearing her cheetah-printed nerd glasses.  

 And aside from the strange outfit, Hannah looked- well- terrible.

 She was half asleep when she was picking at her cold lasagna, and her lips were pale. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, even weeks, if that were possible.

 Connor wasn't here because he needed to ask Mr. Tobler, our Biology teacher, about the paper we had to write, and Savannah was no where to be seen. I made the mistake of accidentally looking at her violent, blue eyes through her dorky frames. I wasn't used to seeing Hannah like this, mainly because she typically used her contacts.

  Before I knew it, we were beginning a conversation. It was time to act civilized. Hannah spoke first, which caught me by surprise because she was so quiet or the past weeks.

 "Hey, Nolan. About that science paper, how many paragraphs were we supposed to write? Was it 15 or 16?" Hannah didn't seem like she was confused. I could tell immediately that she simply wanted to avoid the "Harper-talk".  

 "Um- let's just say that Mr. Innocent here barely did any of that work." I flashed one of my sloppy grins that always worked when people were upset, but Hannah refused to look up. She looked distracted and concentrated on her lasagna that was barely touched.

 "But didn't you finish the assignment?"

 I answered instantly. "Of course. And it has half a paragraph on it." Hannah started to shake. I thought she was having a silent fit, but then I realized that she was trying hard to not laugh.  

 "Hey, not one word about my brilliantly formatted half-paragraph assignment." Hannah let out a laugh out of pure pleasure. It was sharp and crisp, yet warming. It sent a wave of shock out throughout the cafeteria, but the kids soon resumed onto their meals.

 We locked eyes for a second too long. She quickly looked away and I cleared my throat. Great. Another abnormal conversation that made Hannah even more uncomfortable than she already was. Smooth. Just smooth, Nolan.

 Just then, Connor walked in. He had on a snapback with a pink unicorn on it, and his neon yellow polo shirt hung loosely over his basketball shorts. Seriously, what was with the funky stuff people were wearing these days?

 When we were younger with Savannah and Hannah, I always thought he liked Hannah. I always made fun of him. Hannah and Connor sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-... You get the idea. This was like, 3rd grade? So I mean, yeah.

 Hey, don't look at me like that. It works that way, okay?

 Connor sat down next to me, and he joined our little conversation.

 "Gee, Mr. Tobler won't say a thing about that Biology paper. Like, I asked him about the part about plant genetics and he's just..."

 "Connor," I had cut him off. "Uncle Nolan will email you the outline he made to make the paper. Now how about we all not talk about that time-consuming assignment?"

 Connor looked shocked. "Uh. Thanks."

 Hannah gave a silent warning to Connor. "Hey, I wouldn't trust Nolan for the-"

 Connor immediately cut her off and plastered a smile. "No, Hannah. I trust Uncle Nolan here with my life! Wait, does that make me your nephew-"

 I rolled my eyes, I cleared my throat, and I imitated a perfect poker-face. I looked straight into Connor's eyes and said in my best Valley Guy accent, "Shut up, Evans."