HANNAH
The drive back home was long, drawn out by the silence that filled the car. The storm had passed, but the atmosphere between Jeremy and me felt just as heavy. Every bump in the road seemed to echo louder, every turn sharper, as if the universe was trying to amplify the discomfort.
I stared out the window, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. The city skyline had long since faded into rolling hills and scattered houses, but I kept my focus on the scenery, unwilling to meet Jeremy’s gaze.
He hadn’t said a word since we left my apartment. Not one.
Neither had I.
The night before felt like a fever dream—one I wasn’t sure I wanted to remember. The kisses, the closeness, the way his arm had felt around me as I drifted off to sleep. It was too much. Too fast. Too confusing.
And now, in the light of day, it felt impossible to bring it up.
Jeremy’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles brushing against the fabric of his jeans as he shifted in his seat. I caught the motion in my peripheral vision, and my heart skipped.
“Are you okay?” I blurted, my voice startling even me.
He glanced at me, his face unreadable. “I’m fine.”
The two words were clipped, devoid of any emotion.
“Okay,” I murmured, turning my gaze back to the window.
The awkwardness was suffocating, and I hated it. Jeremy and I had always had a certain rhythm, a way of bouncing off each other even in our worst moments. But now, it was like there was a wall between us, one I didn’t know how to break.
When we finally pulled into my parents’ driveway, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Home. A place that was familiar, safe. Maybe the tension would dissolve the moment we stepped inside.
Jeremy killed the engine and got out of the car without a word. I followed suit, grabbing my bag from the backseat and slinging it over my shoulder.
Inside the house, my mom greeted us with a warm smile. “You’re back! How was the drive?”
“Long,” I answered, forcing a smile.
My mom’s gaze flicked between Jeremy and me, her brow furrowing slightly as she seemed to pick up on the tension. But she didn’t say anything, instead gesturing toward the kitchen. “I made some snacks if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks,” I said quickly, brushing past her and heading for the stairs.
Jeremy’s footsteps echoed behind me, but I didn’t turn around. Once I reached my room, I closed the door softly and leaned against it, exhaling a shaky breath.
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
****
Later that evening, I found Jeremy in the living room. He was sprawled on the couch, his phone in hand, scrolling with a furrowed brow.
“Jeremy,” I said, my voice tentative.
He looked up, his expression guarded. “Yeah?”
I hesitated, the words tangled in my throat. “About last night...”
His jaw tightened, and he sat up, setting his phone aside. “What about it?”
“I think we need to talk,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
He leaned back, his gaze fixed on me. “Okay. Talk.”
I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “I think you’re reading too much into this. Into... us.”
Jeremy’s brow furrowed, a flash of something I couldn’t quite place crossing his face. “Reading too much into what, Hannah? The fact that I care about you? That I’ve always cared about you?”
“Stop,” I said sharply, my voice trembling. “You don’t mean that.”
His expression darkened, and he stood, towering over me. “Why do you think I don’t mean it? Because it’s me? Because you think I can’t possibly feel that way about you?”
I took a step back, my chest tightening. “Because it’s not real, Jeremy. This—whatever this is—isn’t real. It’s just... proximity. Familiarity. You don’t actually feel that way. You can’t.”
Jeremy’s eyes narrowed, hurt flashing in his gaze. “That’s what you think? That I’m just some confused kid who doesn’t know what he wants?”
“I didn’t say that,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“You didn’t have to,” he said coldly, his tone cutting.
The silence that followed was deafening, heavy with words left unsaid. I could feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
“I’m scared,” I admitted finally, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to handle this.”
Jeremy’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. “Do you think I do?” he asked softly. “I’m just trying to be honest with you, Hannah. But if you don’t feel the same way... if you don’t want this... just say it.”
I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know how.
Jeremy stared at me for a moment longer before shaking his head. “Forget it,” he muttered, turning and walking away.
I stood there, frozen, as the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway.
****
That night, the house felt emptier than ever. The storm had passed, but the tension between Jeremy and me lingered like a shadow.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying our conversation over and over in my mind. His words, his expression, the way he’d looked at me like I was breaking his heart.
Why did everything have to be so complicated?
I closed my eyes, willing sleep to come, but it didn’t. Instead, all I could think about was the weight of Jeremy’s gaze, the warmth of his touch, and the undeniable truth I was too afraid to admit to myself.
Maybe I did feel the same way. But I didn’t know how to face it. Or him.
****