She rested her chin in her hands and twisted her lips to the side. “You haven’t been around a lot.”
“I’ve been working.” I wrinkled my nose. “Boring movie stuff.”
“I bet it’s awesome.”
I glanced up from scrubbing a Spaghetti-O stain and then relaxed my face into a smile. “It’s very tiring, but I’ve gotten to work with some . . . interesting people.”
“Like who?”
I knew I wasn’t supposed to be carrying on a conversation with Hannah—that even though Dave was all happy with me for giving the shelter thousands of dollars of my clothes he’d probably flip out if he knew I was—but I wasn’t going to shrug her question off. Hannah clapped her hands over her mouth when I said, “Justin Davies.”
“Are you kidding? You have the best job ever!”
After the stressful few weeks I’d had, who would have thought that talking to a little kid would make me feel better? The corners of my mouth dragged up into a smile and I shook my head. “Not kidding. I’ll tell him he has a fan,” I said and she beamed. My grip loosened on the rag I held. People like Hannah—they were the ones who reminded me why I’d loved my job in the first place. I lowered my gaze back to the table.
“Guess what?”
I lifted an eyebrow but didn’t raise my head. “Hmmm?”
“My mom got a job.” There was so much pride in her voice that I felt my heart contract. I didn’t know her story any more than she knew mine, but I grinned down at the bleach-scented cloth.
“I’m glad,” I said, finally meeting her brown eyes. “My fingers are crossed for you guys.”
“Mom says we’ll probably get to move to our own apartment in a few months. I’ll get my own room and won’t have to share with my older brother.” She wrinkled her nose, and I laughed.
“You’ve got a brother?”
“He sucks.”
“It’ll get better,” I promised and she tilted her head skeptically.
“You’ve got one.”
“Nope, only child.” My mom and dad had always said that having me was enough although now I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Before Hannah could issue out a sharp retort, I added, “But I’ve played a little sister more times than I can count.”
My cell phone vibrated in the back pocket of my shorts, but I ignored it. I also ignored the part of my brain that kept telling me to stop talking to this kid before Dave found me. Hannah was lonely, like I’d been so many times before. I’d restart the entire 50 hours of community service—and finish before the deadline—if it meant I wouldn’t have to shrug her off.
I sat down a few seats away from her and glanced over, folding my hands on the table. “Know how you’re going to decorate your room yet?” I asked and her brown eyes lit up in excitement.
She spent the next fifteen minutes telling me about the Bieber-esque bedspreads she’d coveted at Walmart and how her mom had promised her she’d have it by Christmas. When a tall, wiry boy with light brown hair and dark eyes poked his head into the dining room to yell for her, she rolled her eyes theatrically and I knew that he was her brother.
I’d done the same on-screen too many times to count.
“I’ve got to go. Shots for school,” she explained making a face. “Will you be back tomorrow?”
I thought of the remaining few hours I had left and not wanting to lie to her, shook my head. Her face fell for a moment, and then she held up a finger. “Be right back.”
She raced over to the boy in the doorway, her sneakers skidding on the slick floor, and argued with him for a minute about something. She returned with a miniature black sketchpad and a jet black ink pen. I watched, biting my lower lip, as Hannah flipped to the back of the sketch book, to a blank page.
Handing it to me, she gave me a hopeful smile. “Please?”
I signed my name across the page slowly, not quite wanting to let go when I was finished. “Stay out of trouble,” I said to her when she finally pried the sketchpad from my fingertips.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Is this the face of a trouble maker to you?” She gave me a sweet smile, and I swallowed hard.
That smile—I’d seen it too many times to count, on the promotional images of my movies from ten years ago.
“Ugh, I’m not even going to answer that,” I said, laughing despite the painful churning in my stomach. “Try not to kill him, okay?” I nodded my head toward the skinny boy at the door and Hannah flashed me a thumbs up. As she left the D-hall, arguing with her brother about her using the paper in his sketchpad, my shoulders slumped and I had to sit down for a minute to catch my breath.
My phone vibrated once more, pulling me away from my thoughts. When I dug it out of my pocket, I saw the drunken photo of Jessica holding up her shot glass. Groaning, I positioned my finger over ignore, but then I sighed.
What the hell, right?
“Hello?” I answered, and she released a long sigh.
“Willow, I miss you!”
I pushed myself away from the table and stood up, pacing the length of the space between it and the wall. “Sorry I haven’t called.”
But I wasn’t.
She snorted. “Ugh, I probably wouldn’t call either if I was dating that guy.” I clenched my hand by my side, picking up speed. Jessica and I’d gone after each other’s ex-boyfriends repeatedly in the past, not really giving a shit. But Cooper wouldn’t be one of them. Ever. I pinched my mouth, hoping like hell she wouldn’t bring him up again.