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Back Little Universes Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Part 1
  6. Mae
  7. Hannah
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. Part 2
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. Part 3
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. Epilogue
  59. Mental Health Resources
  60. Acknowledgments
  61. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
  62. About the Author
  63. Newsletter Sign-up

How much easier things would be for everyone without Just Hannah. Go to New York, go be an astronaut, go kiss a girl who doesn’t bite.

“Hannah?”

For one wild moment, I think it’s Drew and this will be like in a movie, where chance has brought us together and he will take me in his arms and everything will be okay and all I will smell is tea tree soap.

But the boy who called my name isn’t Drew. Tall, scraggly, unfortunate tattoo choices. Those insanely beautiful Nolan eyes.

“Eddie?”

Drew’s cousin grins and plops down on the seat across from me. “Long time, no see. Drew keeping you busy?”

The sand falls and falls.

“Drew and I…”

“Oh. Shit.” Eddie takes off his Bruins cap, runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. It’s … whatever.”

The train stops at Copley and people flood in, out. Laughter, lots of Emerson students—arty and cool—and people with BU sweatshirts. The business casual crowd is here, too, reading their tablets or their phones. Eddie stands and comes to sit next to me. He smells like cigarettes and bad decisions.

“I was gonna give you a hard time about taking away my best dealer,” he says. “Surprised he’s not back up with it. Thought he only stopped ’cause of you.”

I nod. Hold my purse closer.

“He’s getting his shit together,” I say.

I haven’t talked to Drew in weeks. Sometimes I give in when he calls because I need a hit of his voice, but I’m always the first to hang up.

“Where you off to?” Eddie asks. The train jolts forward, and a group of girls near the back break into surprised giggles as they hold on to each other.

“I don’t know,” I say. What would it be like to be one of them, to be part of a happy little coven? “It’s my birthday.”

“Eighteen?”

I nod.

“You don’t look very happy,” he says.

“I’m not.”

“Why don’t you come out to Cambridge with me? I have to make a stop at a party—Fancy Harvard types.” Hah-vahd. He says it like Drew. “You in?”

I shake my head. “No. I mean, thanks, but I don’t party. Anymore.”

“It’s your eighteenth birthday. The fuck you talking about you’re not gonna party?”

I open my mouth to say no. Obviously no. But then I see the girls from BU huddled together, laughing. Probably a little drunk. And I think about how I’m getting kicked out of my aunt and uncle’s, and where the hell am I gonna go? And this opens something inside me, something raw and starving and gaping. A hole bigger than the pit they threw my mom into.

“Okay,” I hear myself say.

“Fuckin’ right okay.”

Things Without Memory

Mirrors
Stars
Waves
Diamonds
Me

Bathroom Mirror

678 Leeds Street

Cambridge, MA

43

Hannah