Chapter 42: Sunset
By the time they left the school grounds, the day was already folding into evening.
The last light of the sun was thinning across the city, drawing gold over the street and the tops of parked cars before slipping away for good. A cool breeze passed by Julian's ear and carried everything with it: the rattle of a bike somewhere behind them, the faint bark of a dog from another block, the low rush of traffic farther off where the main roads cut through Ashford City.
Hannah stood with one shoulder turned toward the street, watching the road ahead as if it had suddenly become more interesting than looking at him. The sunset painted her profile in warm color, softening the edge of her cheek and catching in the loose strands of hair by her temple.
"Can you walk me home?" she asked. "It's not that far. Half an hour, maybe."
Julian stepped up beside her without much thought. "Yeah. Of course."
So they started down the sidewalk together, moving into the last stretch of daylight while the sky slowly darkened behind them.
For a while Hannah kept her eyes on the ground, watching the road instead of him. Her steps were unusually small, the kind she only had when she was thinking too much about something and trying not to show it.
"People always say that if you don't like someone back, you should reject them clearly," she said at last. "No mixed signals. No false hope. You ever think that too?"
Julian looked ahead, hands in his pockets. "They're probably right."
"Probably?"
"But I don't want to do it that way."
She was quiet for two seconds. When she spoke again, her voice came out softer than usual. "Why?"
He took a breath before answering. "Because I don't think I can be that cruel. You're one of the only real friends I have. One of the best, honestly."
Hannah let out a quiet little laugh. "Wow. Look at you, being all gentle."
"Well, it's you." He glanced at her. "If it were Margaret, I wouldn't do that to her either."
She knew that was not the whole truth. Hannah had eyes. She knew Margaret liked him more than she let on, and she knew there was every chance Margaret might actually say it one day. The thought sat somewhere sharp and ugly inside her, and she refused to look at it too closely.
"You're already daydreaming about her confessing to you, huh?" she said, trying to make it sound light.
Julian gave her a helpless look. "That's not what I said."
"Still." Hannah kicked lightly at a dried leaf by the curb, then bent to catch another one as it drifted down in front of her. She rubbed her thumb over its brittle veins with unexpected care. "Dragging along a girl who likes you is kind of a jerk move, you know. People might start calling you a player."
Julian turned that over for a second. "Would you rather I rejected you coldly?"
She snorted. "What do you think? If you did that, I'd probably want to hit you."
Then, after a pause, she added more quietly, "I'm kidding. Mostly. I don't have the right to be unreasonable." Her fingers curled around the leaf until it cracked. "When I confessed just now, I was really scared. I kept thinking maybe we wouldn't even be friends after. Maybe you'd just look at me and say no, flat out, like you were annoyed I even tried."
Julian tried to imagine himself doing that and failed. "I don't think I'm capable of sounding that mean."
That part, at least, was true. He could count on one hand how many times he had really gotten angry in his life. His father had always told him that there was enough harshness in the world already, and that if someone mattered to you, you should try to meet them gently first. Julian had held on to that, even after most other things in his life had gone missing.
The street vendors were shutting down one by one, metal shutters rolling down with hollow clanks. Office workers and restaurant staff passed them on their way home. From the apartment buildings around them came the warm, messy smell of dinner starting in a hundred kitchens at once. Soy sauce, oil, onions, something meaty on a skillet. The whole block felt lived in.
Julian glanced over at Hannah.
When she wasn't laughing or talking too fast or making a scene on purpose, she almost seemed like a different person. Quieter. Softer around the edges. Less impossible to read, and somehow harder at the same time.
"That does sound like you," she said under her breath. "Maybe that's one of the reasons I like you."
Julian hesitated, then asked, "Can I ask you something?"
"Depends."
"Why do you like me?"
Hannah turned to look at him fully for the first time since they started walking. "Because you're pretty. Happy with that answer, pretty boy?"
Before he could react, she reached over and pinched his cheek.
She had always liked the feel of his skin. Too much, probably. Smooth, warm, unfairly soft. He looked the way a first love was supposed to look in someone's memory, and sometimes that alone made her want to act like a complete idiot.
Julian tried to pull back, but not very hard. "You can't be that shallow."
She pinched a little harder. "Oh, so I compliment you and instead of getting embarrassed, you call me shallow? Narcissist."
"I'm just saying people tell me that a lot. If I keep pretending they don't, that starts to sound fake."
The answer was so matter-of-fact that Hannah stared at him for a second, then laughed. "That is the least humble way anyone has ever accepted being called attractive."
Julian let the joke pass, then circled back with awkward persistence. "You still didn't answer. Why do you like me?"
This time Hannah did not joke right away.
"Maybe because feelings build up over time," she said. "Or maybe I just have a thing for dumb boys exactly like you."
There was affection in it, but there was also something heavier. Three years of liking someone was a long time at their age. Long enough that it stopped feeling like a crush and started becoming part of the shape of your life. She did not know whether it was first love or just the way memory polished certain people until they glowed, but somehow Julian had stayed there all this time. Even now, with no clean ending in sight, she still could not bring herself to hate him.
"I just didn't expect you to be this hard to win over," she went on. "Especially when there are so many people competing with me."
Julian frowned. "What competition? As far as I know, you're the only one who likes me."
That was exactly the kind of answer that made Hannah want to laugh and scream at the same time.
Other girls' interest in him never seemed real to Julian unless someone practically shoved it into his hands and labeled it for him. Anything less than that, and he filed it away as friendliness, coincidence, or his own imagination. He was hopeless with things like that.
"You're one to talk," he added. "I've seen people confess to you more than once."
"Yeah," Hannah said, and her mouth curved in a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "Too bad the idiot I actually like doesn't like me back."
Julian had no idea how to respond to that. The air between them went still.
By then they had reached the bridge.
Concrete walkways ran along both sides, and beneath them the river caught the sunset and broke it into shards of gold. The western sky was burning now, clouds lit up like strips of silk on fire, crimson and orange spilling into one another until the whole horizon looked too beautiful to belong to a regular school night.
Without warning, Hannah said, "Tell me what you think of me."
Julian blinked. "What?"
"In your head. What am I like?"
He considered it seriously. "Pretty. Good at talking to people. Smart. Popular. Loud."
"Loud?" she repeated.
"In an energetic way."
She accepted that with a small nod. "Anything else?"
Julian looked at her, then away. "You're lively."
"Mm-hm." She angled herself toward him, clearly not done. "What about my body? That should be on the list too."
Julian nearly choked. "Hannah."
"What? Be honest."
He rubbed the back of his neck, then gave in because there was no surviving this kind of conversation once she had decided to have it. "Fine! You're gorgeous, Hannah. Obviously. You've got the whole model build going on. Can we move on now before this gets actually awkward?"
"Almost." She dropped her gaze to her chest and muttered something much quieter.
Julian caught only the shape of the words. "What?"
"Nothing." Hannah lifted her head at once, cheeks tinted red under the sunset. "You heard nothing."
Julian let it go.
He had never been to her neighborhood before. Half an hour was not especially long, but it was enough for the city around them to start changing. He found that he liked walking with her more than he had expected. The wind kept moving through the streets in soft currents. Day and night were trading places overhead. Beside him was a beautiful girl who always had something to say, and somehow the conversation never seemed close to running dry.
The scenery grew unfamiliar after the river. It felt as though the bridge marked a border. On one side of Ashford City sat the dim older district, the part with aging apartment blocks, shuttered storefronts, and people who looked like they had been tired for years. On the other side rose the newer skyline, glossy and expensive under the coming night, glass towers and lit signs and rows of cars Julian could not even name.
He could feel his own awkwardness there all at once. The buildings were so tall he had to tilt his head back to find their tops. The cars that passed were sleek and polished and foreign to him in the way luxury always was.
And standing in the middle of all that, he thought with sudden clarity that refusing Hannah had probably been the smartest thing he could have done.
Maybe she noticed what he was looking at, because she cut her eyes toward him and said, "My family isn't absurdly rich or anything, but we do pretty well. I'm kind of a little rich girl, actually." A grin tugged at her mouth. "So, Julian Hayes, any interest in getting yourself a sugar mama? I could keep you."
Julian laughed. "Honestly, if I were going to be some rich girl's pet, Isabella would probably be the more practical option."
Hannah stopped walking.
"Hold out your hand."
He turned to her, confused. "What?"
"Hand. Now."
Julian did not understand where this was going, but he obeyed anyway. The moment he stretched it out, Hannah grabbed it and bit down hard enough to make him jerk.
"Ow."
"That's for irritating me," she said, glaring at him with her pretty brows drawn tight. Annoyed, but still somehow cute. "You don't have the heart to reject me properly, so instead you keep saying things that make me miserable. Is that your thing now?"
"It was a joke." Julian pulled his hand back and inspected the fresh mark. "Besides, Isabella doesn't like me that way. And I'm not looking to live off anyone."
"Good answer," Hannah said, though she still sounded offended.
A few minutes later they stopped in front of an upscale residential complex.
The gate alone looked expensive. The entrance was all clean lines, polished stone, security lighting, carefully designed landscaping. Even from outside, the place gave off the kind of money that made everything seem quiet and controlled.
Hannah turned toward him, walking backward a step. "Want to come in? Meet my parents? You might change your mind."
Julian almost laughed. "Absolutely not. Besides, just like you're stuck on me, I'm stupidly loyal to Margaret." He looked at the gates, then back at her. "And what exactly would you tell your parents I am? You planning on being honest?"
"Boyfriend, obviously." Hannah lifted her chin and put on an exaggeratedly proud voice. "Dad, your daughter finally did it. I got myself a boyfriend. This idiot right here. I like him so much."
Julian stared at her. "Your dad would break my legs."
"I'd protect you." She reached up and tapped a finger against his forehead.
Then her expression changed. The playfulness did not vanish completely, but it stepped back enough to reveal the sincerity underneath.
"I'm going in," she said. "But before I do, let me confess properly once. You don't have to answer. I already know you won't say yes."
Julian felt something tighten in his chest. Still, he nodded. "Okay."
Hannah looked at him for a long moment, and when she finally spoke, her voice was steady even if the blush on her face was not.
"Julian… I like you. I like you a lot. I've liked you for almost three years, and I know I'm going to keep liking you after this too." Her fingers curled at her sides. "Will you be my boyfriend?"
The wind lifted her hair and tossed it across her cheek. The sunset behind her had sunk low enough to turn everything red-gold, and for one dizzy second she looked almost unreal. Beautiful enough to shake loose something solid. Beautiful enough that the word yes rose halfway to his mouth before he could stop it.
But then Margaret came to mind.
The shape of that answer died before it could leave him.
Julian closed his mouth. Hannah must have understood anyway, because she did not wait for him to force out a refusal. She turned and walked through the gates, slim figure growing smaller under the lights of the complex, her back straight even with the loneliness in it.
Julian stood there and watched until she disappeared from sight.