Interim(131)

It’s kinda funny, actually. Even she bosses me around. I can’t f*cking win.

Anyway, laters . . . (haha, just kidding! I’d never f*cking say that.) I’m out.

Hannah

~





“So, it wasn’t you after all,” Hannah said casually.

“Nope,” Jeremy replied.

“What made you change your mind?” she asked.

“Love.”

“You’re such a sappy loser, Jer,” she said, chuckling. “I mean, seriously? What has that girl done to you?”

He shook his head and smiled. “I don’t know, but something right.”

“I thought what I did was right,” Hannah said.

“No, what you did was f*cking scary,” he replied.

She chomped a Dorito and thought. “Really?”

He nodded.

“But they deserved it,” she argued.

“You don’t get to make that judgment call,” he replied, remembering Regan’s words all those many months ago.

Hannah bristled. “I don’t? I’m the victim here.”

“That’s just it, Hannah. You’re not anymore. The moment you charged into that building shooting people left and right, you were no longer the victim. You transformed into one of them—one of the bad guys.”

She froze, mid-chew.

“It took me a long time to figure that out. I know it seems like it’s justified—hurting someone who hurt you—but it’s not that simple. I think we were trying to simplify a really complicated situation.”

“So, what were we supposed to do, then? Huh?”

He paused.

“Exactly,” she said, satisfied.

“Now, hold on. Just wait. Give me a second to think,” Jeremy said.

It was hard to think of a solution. He was never successful in finding it anywhere. The Old Testament god didn’t offer it. He was positive karma was bullshit. The justice system was a joke. The tattoo on his back no longer meant anything—just a wistful prayer for a world that could never be truly just.

“Sooo, what are we supposed to do about the bullying?” Hannah pressed.

And then it hit him—something he read a long time ago. He couldn’t remember from where, but the sentence stuck with him. At first he hated it. He didn’t like the “turn the other cheek” message it implied. But now he interpreted it completely differently. And he saw the goodness as strength, not weakness.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good,” he quoted.

She stared at him, perplexed, then repeated the words.

He smiled and shoved his hand in her chip bag.

“So what? You’re a sage now?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Not even close. Just trying to make sense of my world.”

“Maybe you can do a better job than I did,” Hannah said.

“I’ll try to make you proud,” he replied.

She nodded.

He looked her over. “I’ve never seen you wear a dress. Why today of all days?”

“Because I held a gun in my hands,” she replied softly, “so I knew they’d let me.”

He was quiet.

“It felt really good to wear what I wanted for the first time in years,” she went on. “I felt really pretty.”

He didn’t know what to say.

“Am I crazy?” she whispered.

“We’re all crazy.”

“Will you miss me, Jer?”

“Yes, Hannah, I’ll miss you . . .”

His eyes flew open to the beeping sounds of the monitors. He didn’t mean to doze off, but he’d been at the hospital for a week and a half straight, running on little sleep and too many cups of black coffee. He glanced at Regan, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest.

Hers was no superficial shoulder wound. The bullet nicked her heart, and she almost died. Twice. After the second emergency surgery, he screamed in her face.

“You have things to do, Regan!” he cried angrily. “You have a lot of soccer games to play! A lot of cakes to bake for me! You’ve got a big future waiting, so don’t f*ck it up!”

Naturally, he was dragged from the room. Mr. Walters tore into him with the filthiest verbal assault he’d ever launched. The words threatened fisticuffs, and Roy had to come between them. The men wouldn’t speak for two days until Jeremy asked for forgiveness with a Snickers bar from the vending machine.