Hannah’s feet were cold on the kitchen tile. The fridge door was also opened, as she stared blankly at the contents. Milk jugs, soda pop, leftover containers, cheese bags, veggies, fruits, a slice of cake which was looking more and more tempting as she stood there contemplating why she even opened the door in the first place.
“Hannah.” Her mother’s voice caused Hannah to turn. “I asked for the butter. It’s in the door sweetie.”
“Right.” Hannah shook her head as her hand skimmed past condiment bottles to reach for the butter.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Hannah shut the fridge door and slid the stick of butter across the quartz counter top. The knife flashed as Olivia picked it up. The paper rustled as she opened the butter.
“You are not.” Her mother cut a chunk of butter and started spreading it across the top of a warm croissant. “You are never so spacey.”
“You know those things are already made with tons of butter.” Hannah sat on a stool next to Olivia.
“Don’t be a smart Alec sweetie.” Olivia wiggled the butter knife near Hannah’s face. “It looks worse on you than that skulking frown.”
“Moom.” Hannah groaned and placed her elbows on the counter. She buried her face in her hands.
“Are you ready to talk about it yet?”
“No.” Her mother’s lips were smacking together as she ate the croissant. The smell of them wafted from the pan of other croissants sitting on the stove top. “You can get yourself a croissant you know.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Dear, you haven’t eaten in nearly two days.” A warmth pressed against Hannah’s back. The hand rubbed up and down. “I insist you get something today.”
“Fine.” Hannah huffed. The stool squeaked as she got up. Her bare feet picked up more chill as she walked over to the stove. Grabbing one, she stuffed half of it into her mouth, biting down. The warm pastry immediately started melting in her mouth. “Haffy ow.”
“Hannah.” Olivia tsked. The teen rolled her eyes, chewing the buttery bread.
“Happy now?” Hannah waved the other half of the croissant.
“A little.” Olivia pat the stool next to her. “I’d be happier to see my girl happier.”
“Mom-”
“I know.” Olivia rested her chin in her hand. “Breakups are tough. You need to grieve it. But, you can’t let it hold you back forever.”
“I know.” Hannah sat. “It’s… frustrating.” She looked down at the counter. “It hurts.” John barely looked at her when he broke it off. “I… I did the right thing.” What else was she supposed to do?
"The first contact with aliens shouldn’t be handled by people just celebrating their entrance into adulthood.”
Hannah agreed with her father, so she had helped him.
“I know sweetie.” Olivia’s hand returned to her daughter’s back. Hannah turned her face away, tears starting to roll down her face. “You’ll be okay.”
“I know.” Hannah whispered. Eventually, it wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Word count: 497
