Part 82: Hannah

There was the official story, given to the school by Ms. Pascucci: Hannah had gone on a pre-scheduled trip to New York to visit her cousin, see the Statue of Liberty “and that kind of crap,” and so her three days’ absence should be excused because they had been educational in nature, "probably more educational than what she would have been doing at that school, anyway."

Then there was Hannah’s public story, disseminated by the likes of Courtney Collins (last-named again), who knew she had been dethroned but still clung, barnacle-like to the true seat of power, hoping the past few days had brought her and Victoria close enough that she could worm her way into a nominal cabinet post in Hannah's restoration government (benevolent monarchy, enlightened despotism): Hannah had run away from home on Saturday night, stayed with her cool, gay cousin in New York until her mom threatened to call the police on both of them; forced her to come back, dragged her back.

“Yeah, New York’s pretty cool, but it’s pretty much just the same as everywhere else, too,” Hannah said a dozen times that day. “Like, once you’ve been there for a while, it’s no big deal. So being back here, it’s whatever.”

“Does your cousin live in the Empire State Building?” ventured one bold sixth-grader on the edges of the throng - they were at Lunch, and the duty teacher was letting it happen for now - his New York formed from the opening shots of sitcoms.

Hannah laughed her cold laugh. “Lmao, no, buddy. No one lives there. Besides, the Empire State Building’s in Manhattan, and my cousin lives in Brooklyn.”

“Brooklyn’s the cool part of New York,” Victoria explained patiently.

No one could dispute this. Having an opinion was a way of proving that you had been to New York, the same way everyone who comes back from Niagara Falls wants to compare and contrast the American and Canadian sides.

Then there was Hannah’s True Story, only for her inner circle: Victoria (at Lunch, after the crowd was finally broken up, that teacher emboldened by the presence of another) and James (that afternoon, on Myssenger, surely.) This diverged from the public story only at the climax. She wasn’t forced to come back by her mom, who “doesn’t really give a shit about me, as you know”; she had chosen to. 

Why? Well, because to tell you the truth New York was sort of boring, and she had done all the things she wanted to do there (for Victoria, meet Charlie’s friends; for James, debate a real Christian), and she missed you.