Page 96 of Hannah.
Monday morning,I wake up pleasantly sore and with butterflies still in my belly from the weekend away with Johan. My happiness tinges on the way I view the world, painting it all in softer, more vibrant colors. I stretch in bed, letting my muscles wake up, reminded of how much of a workout they had gotten over the last few days.
I feel beautiful, content, and blissful.
But when I turn my iPhone on, still in bed, bad news hit my email box—the archaeology department announces that Johan’s class has been canceled, leaving me disappointed and then worried. I’d been looking forward to his class, even if we couldn't have any real interaction during it. I love watching Johan teaching in his element, working on something that he’s so passionate about, and sharing his knowledge brings me almost as much joy as when he focuses that intensity directly on me. The negativity lifts for a second when I think that maybe he’s exhausted from the weekend and needs some extra rest, but that isn't like Johan at all. He’d never skip out on his duties. Thatrevelation sends me plunging right back into my worries. Before I can spiral, a new text pops up on my iPhone’s screen.
Johan:Good morning, beautiful! I hope you slept well. Unfortunately,I can’t meet you before class as I’ve got to go and meet my dad. Something’s up. X
Oh crap. Now I get why the class got canceled; I hope his dad is doing okay. I quickly answer back, get up, shower, and head to one of the many libraries on campus to study.
The library is quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of pages and the occasional cough or whisper. I try to focus on my textbooks, but my mind keeps wandering back to Johan and his dad. I glance at my phone every few minutes, hoping for an update, but there’s nothing.
Time passes slowly until it’s time for my next class. I gather my things and head to the lecture hall. The professor’s voice drones on, but I can’t concentrate. I take notes mechanically, my thoughts elsewhere. The class seems to drag on forever, and I’m relieved when it finally ends.
At lunch, I sit in the bustling dining hall, barely touching my food as I scroll through my messages again. No new texts. I send him a quick message:Is everything okay with your dad? Please keep me updated.
The afternoon lectures pass in much the same way. I jot down notes, half-listening to the professors, but my thoughts are elsewhere. Between classes, I keep glancing at my phone, but still, nothing from Johan.
By the time evening rolls around, the sky outside my window fades into a deep twilight. The courtyard below is quiet, students either studying in their rooms or out for the evening. A knot of worry tightens in my chest. I pick up my phone and dial Johan’s number, pressing the phone to my ear. The call goes straight to voicemail.
His phone is off. He’s probably just out of battery, I tell myself, trying to stay calm. But doubt starts to creep in. What if something is wrong? What if the talk with Astrid went so badly that he doesn’t want to speak to me?
I pace my room, the old floorboards creaking under my feet. My mind races with possibilities, each one more troubling than the last. I send another text, trying to keep my tone light:Hey, just checking in. Is everything alright? Call me when you can.
Minutes feel like hours as I wait for a response that doesn’t come. I sit on my bed, the soft light of my desk lamp casting a warm glow in the room, but it does little to ease my anxiety. The evening stretches on, and still, there’s no word from Johan. I can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that maybe things with Astrid didn’t go as planned. The silence is heavy, each tick of the clock amplifying my unease.
I have to trust him. I’d want Johan to have faith in me if something threw a wrench into our plans, so I need to do the same for him.
It’s easier said than done, though.
On Tuesday morning, the butterflies from Monday are conspicuously silent. In fact, my stomach is twisted up into a tight ball, and I don’t feel hungry at all. The only things I want to do is roll back over and try to find the oblivion of sleep once more or simply stare at the ceiling if slumber never arrives. But I have class—not Johan’s, but still...my course load is heavy, and I can’t afford to miss a lecture if I can help it. I have to stay on top of things, even if I am full of anxiety due to Johan’s radio silence.
Getting dressed is an effort, and I opt for baggy pants, a long tee shirt, and a sweater paired with a knitted beanie over a simple braid because I don’t feel like dealing with my hair. I don’t bother with makeup, and the only food I manage to eat is a piece of toast on the way out the door, shoving the dry crumbsinto my mouth as I walk and washing it down with a gulp from a water bottle.
I might be overreacting, but I’ve learned over the years to trust my gut. Before I leave, I text Johan and Astrid, but neither of them responds. No matter how much I try to convince myself that it's all in my head, I can’t. Everything is wrong. Johan wouldn’t ignore me like this.
Class is a blur, and when my brain finally starts focusing, all I can think about are the missed messages from Johan and Astrid. And every time I check the screen, the notifications are blank.
It’s when I am walking back to my dorm after classes are finished for the day that I run into Astrid. Literally.
I turn a corner, and we collide, both of us jumping back as the force of the impact spins us around.
“Whoa,” she says, righting herself and reaching out to grab my shoulder. “Where’s the fire?”
“Hey.” I look around her, checking the corridor briefly. “Sorry, I’m distracted.”
“Clearly.” She squeezes my shoulder, but from the way she jerks her hand back, I get the feeling it's more out of habit than any genuine worry for me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I, ah—just woke up with a headache, is all.” Then, unable to control my anxious tongue, I blurt out, “Are you on your way to meet anyone? Maybe Conrad or…Johan?”
“No, why?” she responds, crossing her arms. Her outfit catches my eye—she’s wearing a beautiful, fitted mustard floral dress with a wide belt that accentuates her small waist. Her hair cascades down, brushing her shoulders, perfectly styled. Her makeup is flawless, featuring bold red lips that match her necklace and earrings. The look is completed with a pair of heeled ankle boots and a matching clutch.
“He canceled his Monday morning class….” The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize how personal and strangethe question is. Who asks someone why their hookup wasn’t in class? I want to grab the words from the air and shove them back into my mouth, but it’s too late.
She lifts her chin, and a cold expression slides onto her face. “Yes. We had something important to do. What’s it to you?”
Johan canceled his class to be with Astrid? I can’t believe he lied!I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s the way she's looking at me that makes me speechless. I’ve seen Astrid mad, upset, frustrated, and even irritated. But right now, she looks at me with a flat, chilly gaze, and I realize I’ve never seen her like this.
“I just?—”