Neville sheepishly abandoned the bit of chicken he'd torn off and returned to the kitchen for a knife, along with an additional fistful of paper napkins. He handed the knife to Hannah and laid the napkins down close by before returning to the safety of his side of the impromptu picnic.
Why was it so difficult just to pretend that things were what they'd been? Neville wasn't offended by what Hannah had presumed about him, and after a few hours alone he realized it explained some of her behavior towards him. How she could be so affectionate, so intimate - Godric's teeth, she'd even undressed in front of him when he'd helped her pick out dress robes, and he'd been too dumbstruck even to stammer - and still go on about Nate and how wonderful he was, at least when she'd still thought he was wonderful. Neville was sure he'd never seen Hannah act so familiar with Ernie or Justin or Zach... but how could he have known it was because she assumed he was gay? If she hadn't, he supposed they might never have been friends. Maybe she couldn't have a boy as a friend who wasn't her boyfriend.
So why couldn't Neville be her boyfriend?
Neville fought to keep from showing every feeling on his face, but he couldn't know if he succeeded. He could only hope Hannah was occupied enough with the chicken not to worry about the one who was sitting across from her.
"Grans sends her best, by the way," he managed by way of conversation.