Part 36: James
At eight o’clock Saturday night, James decided to unblock Hannah. But then he noticed that it was exactly eight o’clock, and she couldn’t think that he had purposely been waiting for eight o’clock to hit (which he hadn’t, but that didn’t matter, what she thought was more important than the truth) - so he had to wait a few more minutes.
8:07 sounded like a random enough time. So he watched the clock in the corner of the screen patiently and hit the unblock button as soon as it said 8:07.
Now they were both online. Now they could see each other.
He had taken the first step towards reconciliation. Would she take the next one and message him?
Victoria had been online since he came on at 7:30, so Hannah definitely knew she had been blocked now, but that didn’t matter anymore. He was going to tell her everything anyway. He had to. It was the only way to make sense of any of it, to figure out what it meant.
Or was it his responsibility to message her, since he had blocked her in the first place?
His family was watching TV together on the other side of the living room, but it wasn’t bothering him as much as it usually did. There was a wall between them. He could hear the show, but it belonged to a different world. A world he used to inhabit, maybe, but never could again. Something had changed in him today. The question was: what? A question only he and Hannah, working together, could answer.
8:11. She had obviously seen his screenname by now and had chosen not to message him.
She and Victoria were both online at the same time, so that meant she wasn’t at Victoria’s house anymore. But it also meant they were talking right now, which was even worse. If they were in the same room, there was a good chance they were doing different things. But now, if he said anything about Victoria, Hannah would just send it straight to her. Not that he wanted to talk about Victoria anyway. It had been an eternity since he had written that stupid survey answer. He had been through so much since then, and had not thought about Victoria once. But Hannah probably still thought that’s what their fight had been about.
He wished he could just catch her up on everything that had happened - just show her the porch, the playground, Susan’s attempt at having a serious talk with him, the awkward dinner - so they could skip to the important parts. It would take so long, and she didn’t always pay attention, especially not when Victoria was online, too. She was better late at night - that was when they had their best talks - but he couldn’t bear to wait any longer. It was already 8:13, and there was always a risk of her signing off. So he had to do it.
xx themachine: hey
They never said hey, but this was different.
Was she really not going to answer him?
If she didn’t answer him, then their friendship was really, officially over, and it would be entirely her fault. If she didn’t answer him, he would never talk to her again, no matter how hard it was to live without her.
Was she asking Victoria what to say? How pathetic. Everyone thought she was so independent, so confident, but secretly she was just as weak as Victoria. At least Victoria was honest about it; at least she knew she was a spineless follower. You could almost respect that.
Then, at 8:15 (was she waiting for 8:15? No, she didn’t do things like that), it came:
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: hey man
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: long time no see
xx themachine: right?
xx themachine: whatd you do today
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: lmao nothing really
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: we went to see victorias sister at college
xx themachine the shitty one?
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: yeah, elizabeth
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: catherine’s not in college anymore
xx themachine: right i forgot which one was which
xx themachine: how was it
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: fine
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: then we went back to victorias and played cod
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: then i went home
xx themachine: cool
xx themachine: so i got in a fight with sean today
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: what why???
xx themachine: lmao i dont even know
xx themachine: he said i changed
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: wtf?? youre exactly the same as youve always been
xx themachine: i know!! thats what i said
xx themachine: and he was like
xx themachine: you gotta start thinking about high school
xx themachine: are you just gonna follow hannah around like a lil puppy
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: lmao wtf
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: you dont follow me around
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: we dont even hang out
xx themachine: i know right
xx themachine: but yeah
xx themachine: it was stupid
xx themachine: and then i cried on the swings lmao
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: really??
xx themachine: yeah…
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: wow
xx themachine: it wasn’t just about that though
xx themachine: like it was just like
xx themachine: everything
xx themachine: all at once
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: sure i get that
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: i had a weird day too
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: like there’s this new obm thing
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: i know you dont like them but i do
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: and like when victoria showed me it
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: i was just like whatever
xx themachine: wait is it like
xx themachine: a story
xx themachine: or something???
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: yeah!!
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: how did you know
xx themachine: my mom was talking about it lmao
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: wtf? your mom?!
xx themachine: yeah it was weird idk
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: susanlistens to obm?!
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: LMAO thats fuckin awesome
xx themachine: she like randomly brought them up at dinner
xx themachine: shes been weird lately
xx themachine: like when i got home from the playground
xx themachine: she tried to have like a serious talk
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: like the talk?
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: the sex talk?
xx themachine: no lmao
xx themachine: but it was just as awkward
xx themachine: she just like sat there for 5 mins and kept saying she was listening
xx themachine: but like
xx themachine: i wasnt saying anything?
xx themachine: so how can you be listening??
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: haha
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: but what did she say about obm?
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: thats so fuckin funny
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: shes full of surprises
xx themachine: idk i guess that’s why she’s been on the computer so much
xx themachine: like when i came down for dinner she was on it
xx themachine: and she closed out of the tab really quick
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: omg its like shes the kid and your the parent
xx themachine: you’re*
xx themachine: sry
xx themachine: but yeah kinda
xx themachine: and then at dinner she was like
xx themachine: talking about this story that was on their website
xx themachine: and she started trying to explain obm to my dad
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: omg
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: what did david say
xx themachine: he was just like confused
xx themachine: he doesnt get music
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: true neither does my mom
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: she still listens to like
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: madonna
They were back. The fight was erased, forgotten. It had never happened. He had even mentioned his dad and she hadn’t thrown his married parents back in his face; they had talked about Victoria, too. He felt safe with her again. Safe enough to correct her spelling; that was the proof.
And because he felt safe, he could afford to ask her questions, too. They would have plenty of time to get around to everything he wanted to tell her. They had all night. It wasn’t even 8:30, and it was Saturday, and she was home, and in a good mood - the night ahead seemed infinite. They could afford to take a detour.
xx themachine: wait so whats the obm thing?
xx themachine: i didn’t really get what susan was talking about
xx themachine: plus i was only like 63% listening
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: ok so like
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: xander did an interview a while back
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: where he said his favorite book was this russian book called the letter
xx themachine: oh ive heard of that
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: really?
xx themachine: yeah i cant remember where though
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: hm interesting
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: well like for a while no one could find it and some people were saying it wasnt even real
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: but then today it was posted on their website
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: or the beginning was at least i guess its got to be longer
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: but I THINK
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: maybe xander actually wrote it himself
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: and its what their next album is gonna be about
xx themachine:oh hmm maybe
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: but then if youve heard of it before
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: maybe not???
His first mistake of the conversation; the first stain on their new, recently purified friendship. How to take it back, how to reset? He had gotten too excited, too eager to connect with her, trying to make up for last time, that he hadn’t thought before he spoke, hadn’t tried to remember where he had heard of The Letter. And it was right there in front of him: that interview with Xander Cross that he read that morning, hating Hannah. But he couldn’t admit that. He couldn’t seem actually interested in OBM - she’d know it was only because of her. And it was part of her idea of him that he didn’t like them, a part she understood and accepted, that she had referenced in this very conversation; and an argument against all the Courtney Collinses and Seans of the world who pegged him another Victoria.
Could he undo the damage he had done? Or was it like smashing a plate, where it could never go back to the way it was?
xx themachine: oh shit wait
xx themachine: maybe i was mixing it up with another book
xx themachine: isnt there one called the scarlet letter or something?
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: lmao yeah
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: but the scarlet letter is terrible
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: dont ever read it
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: its the worst book they make you read in hs
xx themachine: really?
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: yeah
She talks about high school like she’s already been, James thought.
Was he starting to get annoyed with her again? Now that the perfection had been shattered, did that mean all the horrible things were going to start creeping in again? But why should they? He had fixed the hole. At most, she thought he was a little bit dumb for mixing up two books, and that was bearable. She didn’t have to think of him as smart, just a fellow crusader against ignorance, and talking about books together was enough for that. Who else could she talk about books with? Not Victoria, for sure.
What did her and Victoria talk about? What were they talking about right now?
He couldn’t let the conversation die with her “yeah” - he had to find something else to say that would get them back into a rhythm. The worst thing of all was when you could see the pattern of questions and answers, like it was an interview, or when you could see it going back and forth between him talking about himself and her talking about herself. It felt like the swings, having to push yourself off the ground every time.
xx themachine: hey ive got a question for you
Let her think for a moment that it would be something serious, something dramatic. But then hit her with something playful instead.
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: okay what is it?
xx themachine: so is your sn supposed to be suicide IS grace
xx themachine: or suicide’s grace
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: the second one
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: it’s from an obm song lmao
xx themachine: ohhhh ok
xx themachine: thats funny that you ask tho
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: victoria and i were just talking about yours
xx themachine: really? why
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: she asked what it meant
xx themachine: whatd you tell her?
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: i said i didnt know
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: and it probably just sounded cool
So she and Victoria had been talking about him. But what did “just” mean? Did she mean now, when they were friends, or before? He had to find out somehow, figure out some way to get her to reveal more about the conversation: some detail that would tell him if it was online or face-to-face, at least.
Also, Hannah did say “Victoria and I,” so he had to remember to use that in the future. He had a bad habit of saying things like “me and Sean” (not that he would ever need to say that anymore; the parting of ways with Sean was permanent.) But she spelt “though” as “tho," so that was okay.
And here was more proof that she never researched any of the bands that her favorite musicians liked. Everyone name-dropped Pink Floyd. James’s own exposure to them had come from CrossMyHeart’s “Musical Influences” page, which apparently didn’t mean you had to sound anything alike. Late one night, he had downloaded their entire discography and tried to listen to it (he had to try again sometime.) He had made it as far as "Welcome To The Machine" before he gave up; he had noticed the song title, was struck by it, wished he had come up with it, and it his new screenname to make up for the whole experience.
xx themachine: it’s from a pink floyd song actually
xx themachine: you dont listen to them?
He couldn’t mention the Xander Cross interview; he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice in the same conversation. But it was kind of nice to feel like the more cultured one for once; so often it was Hannah who was teaching him about things. She seemed to know about everything, but here was something he had gotten to first. Sometimes late nights where he wasn’t talking to her did pay off.
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: nah
Another potential conversation-ender, but he wouldn’t let it be.
xx themachine: you should
xx themachine: theyre old but theyre actually good
This was just like when she recommended that he read the Bible the other night. And he had asked what part to start with. Hannah wouldn’t ask for an album recommendation, but he would give her one anyway. And then if she actually listened to it - that would be the final proof that their friendship was intact.
xx themachine: start with wish you were here
xx themachine: its not their most famous album
xx themachine: but its the best
No response.
xx themachine: dark side of the moon and the wall are good too though
He hadn’t actually listened to either of them yet, but they were so famous that they had to be good, didn’t they? Plus, he had to say something, give her something to respond to. He wouldn’t ask a question, he wouldn’t change the subject. Make her actually talk about something he wanted to talk about for once, something where he was the expert, relatively speaking:
xx themachine: dark side is like the best selling album of all time
xx themachine: thats not why its good tho
xx themachine: obviously
xx themachine: …………
There. The dots would make it clear that she was being the asshole. The situation from this morning had been reversed; now she was being distant and moody, not him. James minimized the chat window. It would flash orange when she responded. Maybe she had just gone to the bathroom without telling him, or gotten distracted by something - that did happen sometimes. In that case, the dots were still fine - all they would mean was he was waiting for a response, and she would (maybe) feel bad for leaving him hanging, and (definitely) apologize, and then things could swing back to normal.
Fragments of the TV show his family was watching drifted into his consciousness. The man, some detective or police officer, maybe, was trying to convince the woman of his theory that the missing girl was still alive. James realized that some part of his mind must have been listening to it all along; he knew there was a missing girl, after all, and there had been some conversation with a guy at a restaurant - a black guy, definitely, by the sound of his voice. That was the problem with having the computer here: it took away some of his attention. That was why he had fucked up earlier. He couldn’t devote his full attention to Hannah the way she deserved and required.
While he waited for the flash that meant Hannah had come back, he clicked around and looked at people’s profiles. Most were the same as they had been that morning, the day before, but there was something sort of comforting about seeing them again. The lyric in Kelly Castleman’s profile (that girl was always online); the list of inside jokes in Devon Philbrick’s. But when he got down to Victoria’s, he was jarred by the change. The conversation with Hannah was gone (finally) and in its place something about the OBM concert - of course - and then underneath that, in tiny letters, like she was saying it under her breath:
stupid selfish little boy
you don’t deserve her
Was that about him? Was it revenge for how he had put her initials in his survey answer last night? But didn’t she know that he and Hannah were friends again, the whole situation was changed, and there was no reason for them to be enemies anymore? Maybe she had put it in there earlier and just hadn’t realized she should take it out yet. When Hannah saw it, she would set her straight.
What song were those lyrics from, anyway? It definitely didn’t sound like OBM - it was too girl-power, and too simple - but did Victoria even listen to anything else? A thought struck him: what if Hannah had put them in there, or suggested them to Victoria when she was at her house earlier. He copied and pasted them into the search engine. Nothing came up. All the matches were from websites offering dating advice, or random Livejournals; no lyrics sites whatsoever.
So if they weren’t even song lyrics, did that make it more or less likely that Hannah was involved? Was Victoria even smart enough to think of two original sentences on her own? Or realize it was possible to put things in your profile other than song lyrics and bits of conversations and dates, the things everyone else had? It would make much more sense if Hannah had done it first and Victoria had copied her - that was how things usually went. He double-checked Hannah’s profile to make sure he hadn’t missed anything; he even highlighted it all to make sure there was nothing in white text. But no - all she had in there was that simple, red-and-black XC<3. (A much better tribute to the concert than Victoria’s, of course. Everyone knew they had gone last night, so you didn’t need to spell it out for them, just that reminder was enough.)
Gunshots, slamming doors on the TV. Short, clipped, direct phrases like “Cover me!” and “We’re surrounded!” The man had been right: they were about to rescue the missing girl.
Why did they bother watching the show when they knew what was going to happen from the very beginning? Becca he understood - she was still in the garden of Eden, still innocent, after all - but his parents: was this really the life they wanted for themselves when they were young? Of course not. They must have had dreams once. Or did they dream about a house with a fenced-in yard and a big-screen TV the same way he dreamed about the freedom of standing next to Hannah at the top of a cliff, or a slide, looking down upon the world they had left behind?
Maybe he would have a family and a house someday, but it would be different. They would read books and listen to music and teach their kids to question authority, to think for themselves. They’d never do the whole Santa thing; they’d always tell their kids the truth. They’d know their neighbors and walk to the store and . . .
Since the TV show was reaching its climax, that meant it had to be getting close to 9. How long had Hannah been missing? Ten minutes? Fifteen?
What if something had happened to her? What if she had gotten kidnapped . . . no, that was the TV show talking. More proof that it had poisoned his mind. Another reason why he should just have a computer in his room. But Susan wouldn’t understand that. As much as she said she was listening, she never actually listened. She would only listen to the things she wanted to hear. She would listen if he told her he was depressed or needed to see a psychologist or was thinking about killing himself (for some reason she had it in her mind he wanted to kill himself, that was what she kept weirdly hinting at earlier) - but not when he brought up the actual problems in his life. He never could have told her about the fight with Sean, for instance. She probably would have thought Sean was right about the Hannah stuff. Because she, too, couldn’t get it through her head that he didn’t like Hannah.
Maybe what he needed was a different girl to like. But who? No one else was worth liking. If he was going to like someone, it would be Hannah, after all, and the only reason he didn’t was because they were best friends.
Victoria was lucky. Just because she had been born with a vagina instead of a penis (why not be vulgar, why not be crude - he was angry) she didn’t have to deal with everyone accusing her of liking her best friend. But gay people existed, didn’t they? Victoria could be a lesbian, couldn’t she?
Holy shit, maybe Vicroria was a lesbian and she was the one who liked Hannah.
James felt an urge to tell someone his new theory, but he certainly couldn’t tell Hannah, even if she hadn’t gone missing. The best person to tell would have been Sean, but it was too late for that. Maybe someday Hannah would outgrow Victoria, or maybe she would figure this out for herself, and then he could tell her he had thought so for a long time. But wouldn’t it be better if he said it first? If he enlightened her? That would take patience and delicacy, though, finding the exact right moment - when Hannah was just annoyed enough with Victoria to take what he said seriously. And he certainly couldn’t do it when his attention was divided like this.
The TV show ended (the missing girl was found, reunited with her family, of course), and James’s dad disappeared - to the kitchen? the bathroom? the basement? - while his mom began the lengthy process of getting Becca to go to bed. Becca always pretended not to hear her the first few times, and it usually ended in a fight. Just as predictable as the TV show. The difference was he wasn’t choosing to listen to it. He had no choice. Even with headphones in, being in the same room forced him to witness the drama.
Trying to ignore it as much as possible, he kept clicking through the same few profiles of the people who were online, made a few aesthetic tweaks to his own. The lyric was still fine; he had just put it in there yesterday, after all, and he didn’t want to seem like he was thinking about his profile too much. That was desperate.
A decision was reached: Becca could watch one more show, since it was Saturday, and then she would go to bed straight away without arguing. (That’s your problem, James thought at Susan. You always give in. That’s why she keeps doing it. It’d be one thing to just let your kids do whatever they want - like he would do in the future - but if you set a rule, you had to stick to it.)
The next show sounded more like doctors or paramedics or something than cops, but James refused to look. He checked the clock. 9:07 PM. Still early. There was still time.
Finally, the chat window with Hannah started to flash. The moment he had been anticipating for at least a half hour now, and yet it still caught him off guard. He didn’t feel ready. Besides, after Hannah had made him wait so long, he shouldn’t respond to her right away - that was puppy dog behavior. But he could at least read what she said and think about his reply for a little bit. (But not so long that she thought he was making her wait on purpose, because she’d call that stupid and petty.) He clicked the chat window, and saw her reply:
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: omg sorry
Confirmation that she had just gotten distracted or sidetracked. Not kidnapped; not mad at him. Seeing his own previous messages, James remembered that he had been talking about Pink Floyd - a pretty boring subject, after all, so he couldn’t blame her. But she was still typing, and the messages came in a flurry:
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: my mom came in
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: and started fucking FREAKING OUT at me
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: like i dont even know why
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: shes obv fucking drunk
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: as usual
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: and shes notmaking ANY sense
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: like even less than usual
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: omg i fucking hate her so much
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: i dont think i can stay on
Maybe he was selfish, maybe he was spoiled: when he had been sitting here wondering if Victoria was a lesbian and listening to a predictable TV show, she was dealing with all of that. You had to remember that when you felt like criticizing her. For someone who had so much to contend with, it was amazing that she achieved what she did.
But it was okay - it would pass. He just had to convince her to stay online, or give her a reason to.
xx themachine: wait what was she saying?
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX : i dont even know
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: just like fuckin
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: freaking out about how she had to pick me up earlier
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: like thats your job????
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX : and she kept calling me a selfish bitch
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: and all this other shit
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: idk i gotta go though
James, mimicking her rhythm, sent off the next four messages frantically:
xx themachine: go where?
xx themachine: are you okay?
xx themachine: you can come here if you need to
xx themachine: my parents would understand
He didn’t know if that was actually true, but he didn’t care. He would deal with the consequences later. He was in the right: Hannah’s safety was more important than keeping their stupid little suburban routine or whatever intact.
It took a few anxious minutes for her to reply. Because she was arguing with her Mom again? Or because she was telling everything to Victoria? Or making plans to go back to Victoria’s house?
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: no i cant leave
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: she’ll kill me if i try
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: but she can’t see me on the computer either
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: its fine i know how to deal with her im just sorry im being rude
xx themachine: dont worry about that!!
xx themachine: i just want you to be ok
XXxSuicidesxGracexXX: ill be fine lmao
Lmao? Was she mocking him for being concerned? Or was it just an automatic reaction, not meaning anything? It had to be the latter. Nervous laughter. She wasn’t thinking right now. She was just living - a real life, a life with real problems. Not like his problems, which were made up problems. (And yet he had been cruel enough to inflict them on her. Well, not anymore.)
He started to type a response, asking her to come back online when she could so that he’d know she was safe, but he couldn’t get the phrasing right - he didn’t want to sound pushy, he didn’t want her to see it as an obligation, but he also didn’t want to have to sit here all night not knowing if she would come back online or not - so he kept backspacing and retyping it, and before he could hit enter, she had signed off.
His message sat there on his screen, making the whole interaction feel unresolved:
xx themachine: let me know once everything’s ok again
Knowing it was futile, knowing she wouldn’t get it, he hit the enter button anyway.