Hannah

I have a ten dollar bill in my pocket of my jeans. Seriously, the me of a few weeks ago must have known something bad was going to happen and shoved it there for a time when I'd need it most.

I get on the bus to Raleigh only half an hour after I end the call with my aunt. My heart is still pounding; none of this feels real. I feel like I'm watching a movie in slow motion, as if there's no way this is really happening to me. It takes almost an hour to get there, and then I have to walk for fifteen minutes to get to the airport. I only have a backpack on my back and my phone and wallet shoved into my pocket.

Everything goes smoothly, surprisingly.

The boarding, the flight, and the landing - all okay.

What's not okay is when I get off the plane and have an overwhelming feeling wash over me. I can't pinpoint what it is, but just being in Florida is making me feel different. Maybe this was all a bad idea. Maybe I should have stayed in Chapel Hill and tried to do it on my own.

   "Hannah!"

I hear her voice and I remember not only from the phone call but from my childhood.

Erin - my dad's older sister - is standing across the busy airport, waving her arms around in the air. She's smiling but it seems a bit apprehensive, even from way over here. She's near the luggage belt, because obviously she thinks I brought things. My things.

I walk over and my feet feel like lead. It seems like it takes forever to get to her, but she's wrapped around me a minute later.

"Hannah, honey, oh my gosh, look at you!" she shouts when she pulls away.

I'm not unaware that I'm a "pretty" girl. My mom was a pretty girl, too, but with age and alcohol it has faded. I've been called cute or pretty or gorgeous my whole life. I have her strawberry blond hair and her blue-green eyes. I don't think I got a thing from my dad, actually. I'm thin, but I mean, that's mostly due to the fact that I haven't eaten well in years.

Erin is good looking, too, but in a different way. She's simple. Her hair is cut to her shoulders and straight and brown. Her eyes are hazel and nothing special. She wears glasses, but they suit her. I know she's a little older than my mom, but she doesn't seem it.

   "Hi, Aunt Erin," I say and it feels so awkward coming out.

   "Aunt! Oh my gosh." She hugs me again. "I'm... in disbelief that you're here."

   "Me too," I agree.

She looks behind her at the luggage claim. "Let's get your stuff."

I shake my head, embarrassed a bit. "This is all I have."

   "Oh! Right, of course. Well, let's get going then. How was the flight?" she goes on, already walking towards the exit.

  I follow. "It was good. Um, my first time."

   "You've never flown! Oh, I guess you wouldn't have. Wow. I didn't know, I'm sorry."

   "No, it was okay." I pause and look at her again before going on. "Thank you. I mean... I wasn't expecting this when I messaged you."

Erin stops walking and turns back to look right at me. "Hannah, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to get in touch."

And that's that. I follow her outside and down the path to the parking lot. It's after 9P.M. so it's already getting dark, so I stay close. We get into a large SUV with black leather seats and a huge screen on the dash. I don't know anything about her or her family, but I can tell they have money.

We're on the highway back towards Clearwater before I know it and Erin's pretty much been talking non stop. She asks about my graduation, about where I lived before Chapel Hill and about my mom. I tell her about everything, except the last one. I leave it out and she seems to understand I don't want to talk about her.

   "Well, we'll be there in about fifteen minutes," she goes on, then smiles at me. "So, I talked to Matt, of course, before I booked the plane ticket. He agrees you can stay with us as long as you need, and he suggested the pool house, so you have your own sort of space."

The pool house? What is a pool house?

I must look confused, because she goes on.

"It's like a little apartment in our back property. We have guests stay in it once in a while but it's not really used, besides storage. Seb has been asking to let him move out there, but Lord knows he just wants privacy."

  I nod, but it's all a bit overwhelming.

   "Speaking of Seb... geez... you two were little best friends so long ago. It's just been far too long," Erin goes on, not really minding that I'm not talking much.

   "Yeah. Um... how is he?" I ask, because I am honestly curious.

Her son, Sebasatian, and I were together all the time when we were little, but I don't remember a lot of it. I remember going boating with our grandfather. I remember a few birthday parties. And I definitely remember Seb's bright reddish-orange hair.

"He's great. He graduated near the top of his class and he's got a great girlfriend, Sabrina. But he's going off to college at the end of August," her voice changes when she says the last part.

I don't talk much the rest of the drive and Erin turns up the music so we can just relax until we arrive. I very much appreciate that.

Driving into Clearwater I'm ambushed with memories once again. I feel like I know this place. Like it feels like home. Some of the streets feel familiar as we drive down through to their neighborhood, even though Erin said they moved when Sebastian was eight.

It's just a powerful feeling of love and home and I can't describe it, but I have tears in my eyes before I know what's happening. I look out the side window so that Erin doesn't notice.

There's another vehicle - a smaller, blue SUV - in the long driveway, when we pull in. I've never been here so I don't recognize anything, but I'm blown away at the size and beauty of the house. And it's on the beach? Getting out, I toss my bag onto my back and follow Erin along the side of the house. She opens the patio door and holds it open so I can go in first.

It feels warm and cozy inside the giant house - even though the A/C is blasting. This is definitely not like anything I've even seen before. My mom and I only lived in sketchy apartments before we moved into the house, and even that house was small and mostly broken down.

My mouth must be on the floor because Erin laughs and pats my back, nudging me forward. I haven't even moved from the little entry way.

"Matt works with recording artists. He manages a bunch of groups and singers and he does a lot of bookings and tours for them," she explains. "He's actually home this week, but he's gone a lot."

"Oh," I say, because I don't know what else to say.

And then a moment later, there he is. He steps into the hallway and just stands there, staring, with a smile on his face. He's very tall and lean, with tattoos up both arms. He's wearing a tank top and shorts and he seems young, like he hasn't aged at all in the twelve years since I've seen him.

"Oh my god, you've grown up," he tells me, walking closer. "God, so much like Joanie."

He doesn't hug me but he reaches out and sort of squeezes my arm, so I nod and smile back.

   "Thank you so much for... having me," I tell him, unsure.

   "You're family," he tells me, leaving it at that. "Did you show her the pool house?" he asks Erin.

   "We'll head out there in a minute," she answers and then nods at me to follow her. "Seb is out tonight. You'll see him tomorrow. I can't wait for you two to reunite."

That makes me nervous, for some reason. What does he think about me coming to live with him like this? Does he even remember me, or care? I know we were friends when we were little, but that doesn't really mean much now.

Erin leads me through the gorgeous kitchen and out the back door. I follow her down the deck and past the pool, all the while she's explaining about things. She stops at the small building behind the pool area and turns the knob to pull open the door.

It's bigger than it looks from outside and it really surprises me.

   "It's not much, and you can stay in the house if you'd rather-"

   "No, it's perfect," I say quickly. "I mean... wow. Thank you."

There's a storage room near the front, but off to the side is a living room area and the back corner has the bed and nightstand. It's like a little apartment, like she said, but it's way different than what I was picturing. She shows me around and says I can make myself comfortable however I'd like.

It doesn't seem real.

This morning I was leaving that old, worn down, empty house, sad and confused. Now, just over twelve hours later, I'm moving into a pool house in Florida.

What in the world is happening?