Hannah. (Van Den Bosch #7)

Chapter 4

4

Hannah

Saturday dawns bright and early, the morning light coming through the curtains I left open last night to better see the moon. I was hoping to sleep in, but my phone is going off, and I have no choice but to peel my eyes open. Oh well. I guess I should get used to getting up early.

Astrid’s contact is flashing on the screen—a missed call, followed by a text. As my brain starts to churn in, I realize why she must be texting me so early. The day of the exposition has finally arrived. I smile, already anticipating the night until I read the message, and my face falls.

All set for tonight? Do you have a nice dress or something? It’s formal attire.

Reality hits me—I have nothing to wear that fits the occasion. It’s not like I thought I’d need to pack a formal dress for college! All I brought are pair of baggy pants, casual chinos, and sneakers. Panic sets in, and I quickly type back a hesitant No…I didn’t bring anything like that with me.

She doesn’t message back, and I force myself out of bed and into the shower. Crap…what am I supposed to do? I don’t know anyone well enough to ask to borrow a dress, and it’s not like Mom can ship one over from my closet in hours.

Just as I start to stress about it, my phone starts ringing, causing me to get out of the shower to retrieve it.

Rolling a towel around my body, I take the phone and see it’s Astrid calling.

“Yes?” I answer.

“Hi, Hannah! Morning!” Her voice is melodic and bright, and it sounds like she’s been awake for quite some time. “If you don’t have anything planned, maybe we can go shopping and have lunch together. What do you think?”

Her generosity takes me aback. We’ve only just met, and here she is, ready to help me out. I almost protest, but Astrid insists. “I can even come and pick you up!”

“I don’t know, Astrid, I’m not prepared and–”

“How long do you need? I can be there in fifteen,” she continues, and I can even hear her speeding up her pace. She’s been so kind and helpful that I can’t refuse her offer.

“Okay, fine, see you in fifteen.”

And just like that, we step out into the lively streets of Cambridge fifteen minutes later, my still-damp hair braided. I’m not even totally awake yet, but the sun is shining, and Astrid is perfectly chipper.

Walking beside her, I can't help but feel at least a little bit nervous. Girls’ shopping trips aren’t my thing. Her kindness touches me, yet I wonder if accepting such a favor from someone I’ve just met is okay.

As we venture into the world of boutiques and fashion, I oscillate between excitement for the event and uncertainty about navigating this unexpected friendship. It’s all so new and overwhelming, but deep down, I’m thrilled at the prospect of having a friend like Astrid by my side, making Cambridge feel a little less daunting.

She knows exactly where to go, taking me to an understated shop full of bursting with rows and rows of formal wear. Browsing through the dresses, I feel like a kid in a candy store, dazzled by the array of colors and fabrics. Astrid's eyes glint with excitement as she suggests a myriad of dresses for me to try. Silks, satins, lace–it’s not like I’m a stranger to this world. I’ve worn hundreds of formal dresses and know exactly how a high society darling should act. Usually, I’m unwilling to participate in events my mother demands I attend, but this is different. It’s my choice, and considering that the event is another historical art and archaeology exhibit, it’d be a lie to pretend that I’m not excited. I want to look my best and blend in.

Half an hour in, I realize I’ve rarely picked out my dresses for formal events. Mom usually presents me with a variety, and I pick from there. This…well, it’s a little overwhelming. I’m almost ready to tell Astrid to pick for me when I finally see it, hanging there like a dream. The dress is a deep, midnight blue, a shade that reminds me of the night sky sprinkled with stars. Its fabric is delicate, like moonlight streaming through the clouds. Intricate lace adorns the bodice, shimmering under the store's lights. In the dressing room, as I slip it on, it hugs my figure in all the right places, making me feel elegant and sophisticated.

Stepping out of the dressing room, Astrid's eyes widen in approval. “Hannah, you look stunning,” she exclaims, her smile genuine and warm. It’s not just a dress; it's a confidence booster, a magical transformation that makes me feel like I could conquer the world.

As I admire myself in the mirror, I can't help but grin. At this moment, I decide I’m ready to embrace this new chapter of my life, and this dress is my armor, my statement to the world. Astrid, seeing the sparkle in my eyes, nods in approval. “That dress is perfect for you. Get that one for sure.” Then she adds, “Hurry. I’m starving. Let’s go get some lunch.”

Under the golden afternoon sun, Astrid and I decide on a quaint little café nestled amidst the historic buildings and shops. Its exterior is adorned with blooming ivy, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lures us in. The atmosphere inside is cozy, with sunlight streaming through lace curtains, casting warm patterns on the vintage wooden tables.

As we settle down with menus unfolded before us, I opt for a spinach and feta salad, craving the freshness of greens after the dress-shopping escapade. Astrid goes with a Mediterranean quiche.

“Ugh, this is so good,” she says between bites. “I skipped breakfast to catch you before you left your dorm.”

“Yeah, I missed mine because some random woman dragged me out of my dorm at the crack of dawn.” My comment makes us both laugh, but then I get more serious as I think something through. “But really…why are you being so nice to me, a boring little fresher?”

Astrid shrugs one shoulder. “First off, you’re not boring. Second, I like that you enjoy odd artifacts as much as I do. It’s fun knowing someone who shares the same passion.”

As I sit across from her, the warmth of the café wrapping around us, I notice the depth of sincerity in her eyes, which makes me smile, grateful for her comment. “You know, back where I went to high-school, older folks would never mingle with freshers, hence my question.” I pause for a beat, observing her as she forks another bite of her salad. “I appreciate you being so kind and approaching me at the exhibition.”

She keeps quiet as she eats, her gaze dropping as she seems to think something through. “It hasn't always been easy to put myself out there,” she confesses, her voice lowering to just above a whisper, “especially since my best friend’s betrayal.”

My eyes widen, taken aback by her revelation. “Your best friend betrayed you?” I repeat in shock. “How?”

Astrid exhales and takes another bite of her quiche, chewing almost angrily. “She was having an affair with my then-boyfriend.” My mouth goes dry as I hear those words. “It was ages ago, but those things leave a mark on you.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s awful.” My eyes are focused on her, trying to find the right thing to say. “I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes keep darting away to fix on a spot somewhere behind me. The pause that follows feels like an eternity, filled only by the distant laughter of students oblivious to the gravity of our conversation.

When she looks back at me, her eyes are brimming with tears, a stark contrast to her joyful composure.

“We were like sisters,” she says, each word seeming to cost her more than she can afford. “I guess I’m still healing from that.” The finality in her tone is like a cold wave breaking over me. “But this is nice. You’re nice, Hannah.”

Astrid wasn’t just sharing news; she was entrusting me with her vulnerability—something no one had ever done with me before. I reach out, covering her hand with mine, trying to offer comfort through touch since words seem so utterly inadequate.

I listen intently, empathizing. “How could anyone hurt you, though?” I ask when she finishes, my heart hurting for this sweet, funny, generous woman. “You’re so kind. No one has ever made me feel so welcome so quickly.”

“Sometimes people are just bad. Not all the time, but I guess everyone has the potential to be cruel. It just so happened that I was the victim when my old friend decided to be cruel.” She shakes her head, blonde hair fluttering about her face. “Let’s talk about something else. I don’t want to keep bringing the energy down.”

I nod, still wondering what kind of best friend would do something like that. “If that makes you feel any better, I’ve never had a best friend.”

My revelation catches her off guard, her brows rising up in astonishment. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve never been good at creating deep bonds with people. All my friendships until now have been so superficial. And now that I have left the country, no one has even bothered to check up on me.” I pause for a beat, heaving a sigh as I ruminate. “So, I’m not sure what’s worst: being betrayed by your best friend or not having a best friend to begin with.”

“That’s true.” She gives me a small smile before leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table. “At least I had someone I considered like a sister for years. But the pain… ” She shakes her head, her face deepening. “It was worse than my then-boyfriend cheating on me.”

As I keep listening, I feel a profound connection to her. It’s not just about the food but also about the shared stories, laughter, and vulnerabilities we exchange.

“Anyway, let’s drink champagne to cheer us up.” Her mood instantly switches from sad and angry to joyful, and she glances around before waving a hand to a passing waiter. “Two glasses of bubbly, please!”

A few minutes pass when the server comes over, hands us two glasses, and fills them with Veuve Clicquot Brut.

“I’m truly lucky to have met you, Astrid,” I tell her before we can do a toast. ”If you ever need anything, I’ll do my best to support you.”

She smiles, her eyes reflecting gratitude. “You’re a special soul. I can sense it.” She raises her glass, and I do the same. “To friendship.”

“To friendship,” I repeat.

The clinking of cutlery and the hum of surrounding conversations fade into the background as Astrid and I clink our glasses. When the meal is over, we both order coffees to go. Waiting for them at the counter, Astrid reaches down and squeezes my hand.

“Thanks for today, friend. I enjoyed this.”

Her words bring a smile to my face. “You took me out, Astrid! So thank you…friend. I’ll see you tonight?”

She grins. “Yes, for sure. I can’t wait.”