Hanna
Avoiding Finn was harder than I thought it would be. I’d hoped that staying out of his way—skipping soccer practice, taking different hallways—would help the sinking feeling in my stomach disappear. But every time I saw him in the distance or heard his laugh from across the cafeteria, the knot in my chest tightened.
She’s too young.
I can’t lead her on.
His words still haunted me, echoing in my mind no matter how hard I tried to push them away. It wasn’t like I expected Finn to fall for me, but hearing him talk about me like that, like I was just some naive little girl—it hurt. More than I wanted to admit.
But what hurt worse was seeing him with Ciara. It was as if she took pleasure in making sure I saw them together. Every time she draped herself over him, laughing too loudly or whispering in his ear, she’d glance my way, her eyes sharp and triumphant.
I hated how much it bothered me. Maybe because I wanted someone to see me that way—to really notice me. I thought Finn might have, at least a little, but now I wasn’t sure of anything.
So, I threw myself into being with Elordi and Emily, just like old times. Elordi had this effortless way of making me laugh, of turning even the worst moments into something bearable. But I couldn’t help but wish—every time he smiled, every time he made a dumb joke—that he’d look at me differently. That he’d see something more than just his friend.
But he didn’t.
He joked, he teased, he acted like everything was normal between us. And maybe it was. Maybe I was the one imagining there could be something more.
I wasn’t really trying to make myself care about Elordi more than I did. He was always my friend, my safe zone. But there were moments, just tiny ones, when I found myself wishing he could be more. Maybe I was just trying to fill the gap that Finn had left. Maybe I just didn’t want to feel so invisible.
***
One week later.
I was at my locker, grabbing my books before the next class, when I felt a presence behind me. I turned around, and there he was, standing too close. My stomach twisted immediately, and I fought the urge to slam my locker and bolt in the opposite direction.
“Hanna,” Finn said, his voice lower than usual. His face was tense, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. “We need to talk.”
I hesitated, my heart pounding. “About what?”
“Why have you been avoiding me?” His question hit me harder than I expected. He looked genuinely confused, like he had no idea what was going on, like he didn’t know why I’d been keeping my distance.
I swallowed hard, trying to play it off. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”
His jaw clenched, and he stepped closer, his voice firmer. “Yeah, you have. For days. What’s going on? Did I do something?”
The knot in my chest tightened, and I could feel the familiar burn of embarrassment creeping up my neck. Did he not remember? Did he not realize what he’d said? How could he stand there, asking me what was wrong, when he was the one who made me feel like I didn’t matter?
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, turning back to my locker to avoid his gaze. “You didn’t do anything. It’s fine.”
But Finn wasn’t letting it go. “Hanna, just talk to me. Please.”
My heart skipped at that word—please—and suddenly, I hated him for it. For acting like he cared, like this mattered to him. I slammed my locker shut, unable to hold back anymore.
“Why does it matter, Finn?” I snapped, turning to face him. The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “You already made it clear what you think of me.”
He blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”
I felt my chest tighten, the frustration and hurt bubbling up inside me. “I heard you, okay?” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “At the party. You told Ciara I was too young. That you couldn’t lead me on. Like I was some stupid little girl who didn’t know anything.”
His eyes widened, and for a second, he looked… shocked. Maybe even guilty. “Hanna, I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off, my heart racing. “You don’t have to explain. I get it. I’m not your type. I never was.”
The words hung in the air between us, and I could feel the weight of them, the finality. Finn stared at me, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, I thought he might say something—something that would make this all less painful.
But he didn’t.
Instead, I felt the anger bubble up again, and before I knew it, I was blurting out, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Besides, I like someone else.”
The lie slipped out so easily, I almost believed it myself. Finn stared at me, his face a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite read. “You… like someone else?”
I nodded, even though my heart was pounding. “Yeah.”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Who?”