Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,135

direct. Forceful, even. Like right now: she walked like she had somewhere to be, somewhere way more important than mere mortals could possibly imagine. She strutted, but not like a supermodel. More like that one frantic P.E. teacher who always had someone to scold.

They’d been in the same classes all their lives—which had always struck him as odd, because the classes were split by ability, and Hannah Kabbah was a hell of a lot smarter than him. She was smarter than everyone, and a stuck-up sort of know-it-all besides. A textbook teacher’s pet, so on the nose it was almost funny. He might even think she was faking it, if it didn’t make her so unpopular. And if he weren’t naturally a textbook teenage outcast.

Sometimes being a cliché came too easily to avoid.

She hurried in front of him on her short little legs and rounded the corner of the science block, disappearing only seconds after he’d noticed her. By the time he turned that same corner, she should’ve been long gone.

But she wasn’t.

Nate pulled up short, raising a very wet hand to swipe the water from his very wet eyes. Unsurprisingly, the whole manoeuvre was largely ineffective. He squinted and wondered if he was hallucinating or something. He’d tried weed three days ago, down at the park with the older girl who lived at the end of his road. Maybe this was some kind of delayed effect. Because surely, surely, he wasn’t seeing Hannah Kabbah facing off some massive Year Eleven lads.

Only he didn’t think weed worked like that, and his head felt just fine. So he supposed he must be seeing exactly what he thought he was.

Just a few paces away, Hannah stood at the centre of a sparse, scattered circle of older kids. She was glaring up at Lee Beech, a boy almost a foot taller than her and a hell of a lot meaner. The people around them seemed tense and quiet, the rain whispering through the air, putting out their illicit cigarettes. Everyone’s green blazers were sodden, almost black with wet. Except Hannah’s, because she was all wrapped up in a sensible, lavender raincoat that matched the barrettes in her hair.

Honestly, it was like she wanted to be bullied.

But she wasn’t the only odd figure lurking at the back of the science block, he realised. There was a girl hovering behind her, a really small girl in a teal raincoat that looked like Hannah’s. The girl looked like Hannah too, like a little carbon copy, but with thick, turquoise glasses plonked on her snub nose. He wondered if she could even see through the rain-spattered lenses.

Then his wondering was cut short as Lee stepped closer to Hannah, his posture threatening. “You better watch what you say to me, Bugs,” he growled.

Bugs as in Bugs Bunny. Because Hannah had these teeth—well, never mind.

Hannah frowned at Lee—she was always frowning—and Nate wanted to shout at her. Something along the lines of “Run away, you bloody idiot!”

Because, if she didn’t, Nate would have to step in and rescue her. And he might be big for his age, and pretty used to fighting, but he didn’t really fancy his chances against a Year Eleven.

Unfortunately for him, Hannah’s fight or flight instinct was shit. Instead of backing away from the scariest kid in school, she set her shoulders and snapped, “You watch what you say to my sister and we won’t have a problem.”

The girl, who must be her sister, said, “Han.” That was it. Just a single syllable, not even a complete word.

But Hannah turned around and answered as if the girl had given a full-blown speech. “Don’t start! What did I tell you about talking? Huh? Now look! Look what I have to do!”

The sister shrugged, and the action lifted the massive rucksack on her shoulders. Its fabric was darkened by rain, but Nate was pretty sure he could make out some kind of comic book shit on the side. His little brother loved that stuff. Suddenly, he understood exactly why Hannah was being so reckless. He’d put himself in a world of trouble to protect his dorky little sibling, too.

In fact, he was about to put himself in a world of trouble to protect hers, never mind his own. With a sigh, Nate shrugged off his rucksack and let it fall to the ground, ready to draw the boys’ attention.

Then Lee stepped forward and pushed Hannah, spitting, “Yeah? What you gonna do, Bugs?”

And Hannah stumbled back. No; she