Page 28 of Novel Problems

“I could. But it’s not just large crowds that make me stressed . It’s really any kind of special attention. It probably all tracks back to my childhood.” Hannah paused for a moment, and I thought she was going to leave it at that, but then she spoke again. “When I was a kid, I spent most of my time in fantasy worlds—either those in the books I was reading or of my own creation.”

I nodded. “That’s probably part of the reason you’re such an incredible writer.” God, it felt so weird saying that. I still couldn’t quite believe it was true.

“Yeah.” Hannah smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Unfortunately, my parents weren’t so accepting of me being an introvert. They’re both highly successful academics, who love public speaking and public recognition, and they expected me to follow in their footsteps. When theyrealized I wasn’t the precocious outgoing child they’d anticipated, they took action, enrolling me in drama school and, when I was old enough, debate.” Hannah shuddered. “I hated it. So much. And the more they pushed me, the more I hated it.”

“That sounds awful.” I frowned. Being an introvert wasn’t a personality flaw that needed fixing.

“Yeah. It went on for years. They seemed to think the more I did it, the less stressed I would get about it, and their shy daughter would be transformed into some super-confident extrovert who’d go on to become a kickass attorney, politician, or something similar. But it had the opposite effect.”

“I’m so sorry. Being forced to do something you weren’t comfortable doing must have been terrible.” I’d loved drama in high school, but I’d seen how nervous performing had made some of my friends. Thank god they didn’t have parents like Hannah’s pressuring them to do it.

Hannah let out a noise partway between a huff and a laugh. “The ironic thing was, I was actually good at drama. I liked getting into the heads of the characters, and I could really channel their emotions on stage. But I hated people watching me.”

I nodded. “It makes sense you’d be good at it given how great you are at creating believable characters.”

Hannah flushed. “When I was fourteen, I landed the role of Lady Macbeth in my school’s production ofMacbeth. About an hour before opening night, I was in the restroom, having thrown up because I’d been feeling so sick about the performance. I was just getting ready to leave when some of the other drama kids in my year walked in, talking—about me. They were saying it was so weird how,on stage, I came across so outgoing and charismatic, but in real life, I was so shy and boring.”

My heart ached for teenage Hannah. “Oh man. Kids can be so mean.”

“Yeah. I’d already been extremely self-conscious about how socially awkward I was, and hearing that comment, just before I was about to go on stage and perform in front of half the school and their families, was the last straw. I had a panic attack.” Hannah looked down at her mug, her face serious. “Once I was able to move again, I ran to Jackson Park, which is on the shore of Lake Michigan, close to my parent’s house, and stayed there. It was late March, so not the best time of year to spend a lot of time outside in Chicago. Barb, my nanny, who knew how much I loved that place, eventually found me hiding there, freezing cold and shivering.”

Hannah stirred her hot chocolate absentmindedly. “I must have looked like a mess when she found me because she took me to the hospital to make sure I didn’t have hypothermia.”

“Shit! Were you okay?”

“I was fine. My parents were away at the time?—”

“What? So they weren’t even there for opening night?” I interjected, outraged.

Hannah shook her head. “No. At least Barb let me take a few days off school and arranged for the understudy to permanently take over my role, so I had some time to recover. But it was so awful when I did go back to school, and everyone was staring at me and whispering.”

I winced. “Oh shit. That’s like every teenager’s worst nightmare.”

Hannah’s lips curved slightly up. “The silver lining of the whole thing was that, when my parents did return, theylet me quit drama and debate, and I could go back to being my introverted self. I don’t know what Barb said to them—she’d been trying to convince them for years not to push me so hard—but it was an enormous relief.”

I let out a breath. “Thank god. Although it really sucks it had to get to that point before they were willing to back off.”

“I know,” Hannah said. “So while I think I always would have wanted to have a pen name to protect my privacy, because I am a private person, I think that whole experience made me even more sensitive about being the center of attention. I’ve also been worried that if my fans find out who I really am, they’ll be disappointed. Just like those drama kids were. Like they’d expect me to be an amazing conversationalist and incredibly interesting, even though I’m an introvert who spends most of my life escaping into imaginary worlds by myself.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you’re totally selling yourself short. You are anything but a disappointment.” I gave Hannah’s hand another squeeze.

Hannah blushed. “Thanks.”

“And it also makes complete sense to me why you’d avoid the spotlight. I paused, wondering how much to share of my own experiences. “I dated someone fairly well-known a few years ago—Alexis Merritts—and I hated the public scrutiny. Being photographed at galas and other events, being asked intrusive questions about our private lives, being the subject of “Who is Alexis Merritts’ girlfriend, Georgina O’Grady?” articles. And I don’t even consider myself a particularly shy or introverted person.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. “Oh wow. That must have been really full on. How did you cope?”

“To be honest, I didn’t. It was one of the reasons we split up,” I replied.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, her face soft with concern.

I shrugged. “It all worked out for the best in the end,” I said.

Hannah looked up at me and held my gaze. “You know, I think you might be the first person—apart from my therapist—I’ve told that story to.”

Warmth filled my chest. “Well, thanks for sharing that with me. And your secret is safe with me,” I said, remembering Hannah had said almost the exact same words in relation to the cornbread incident earlier in the evening.

Hannah smiled and this time it reached her eyes. “That’s good to know.”

---