7. H A Z E L
SEVEN
H A Z E L
Green was less than receptive to my request. In fact, in all of the years I’ve known him, I’d never seen him go speechless. But after I finally admitted who I wanted, not a single peep left his mouth.
He’s been like this for the past few days—quiet, sheepish, unsure, all of which hardly makes any sense to me. After all, this plan to play matchmaker for one another was his idea, but now, as soon as I lay out my terms and conditions, he goes into complete ghost mode?
I knew he wouldn't be impressed by my selection, I’d even told Chelsie this would likely be the outcome. Sure, Green and Hart have had their scraps in the past, but they’ve also had their good times too. So why is this such a big deal?
Chelsie was right. If Green wants to play the game, then he has to understand the rules: I set him up with Amira, he sets me up with anyone I want. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
It’s simple .
Or so I thought. It's taken me all week to finally convince Green to actually hunker down and finalize this plan. Only this time, in a turn of events, it’s been me who had to drag him out of the house to a setting that’s much more my cup of tea.
The library.
“Are you ready to stop acting weird and actually sit down and have a conversation about this?” I scrummage through my bag in search of the assortment of snacks I’d made in preparation of this conversation. I know there’s no eating in the library, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“That depends, did you pick someone else?” Green fires back, making me roll my eyes as I hand him a sandwich, one he hesitates to grasp. “What’s this for?”
“Just take it.” I gesture it forward once again. “You’re happier when you’re fed, not to mention, more rational…”
With a huff, he takes it from my grasp, removes the cellophane and with his pout, sinks his teeth in for a big bite.
“I just don’t understand, Hazel,” he says whilst chewing. “Of all of the men in Crawley…in England…in the world , and you want me to set you up with, Hart? Really?”
“I just don’t see what the problem is?” I protest with a shrug. “Hart’s smart, funny, athletic, extremely fit?—”
Green chokes on his sandwich, coughing to resolve it before he glares up at me. “Never say that about him again.”
I fold my arms in an agitated huff—sick of this hypocrisy. “So, let me get this right, Daniel .” My use of his first name is something I rarely opt for. I typically reserve it for when I’m mad or trying to make a point. In this case, both. “You’re allowed to look at my roommate's arse whilst practically drooling, but I’m not allowed to call your teammate ‘fit’?” I push out my chair and reach for my bag ready to stand. “Grow up, and you know what? This was your idea, after all. Not mine. I was perfectly content to be painfully single in silence. It was you who came up with all of this, and now what? Now that it’s not going your way, you wanna back out? Ugh ,” I groan out in frustration. “I seriously don’t get you sometimes!”
I’m a few steps away from making my dramatic exit from the library when Green reaches for my right hand and stops me.
“Hazel, wait. Just…” I meet his weary eyes. “Can you sit back down, please ?”
I’m sat firmly back in the chair again before I know it. Christ, I hate how hard he is to stay mad at. Truth be told, I don’t remember a single time we’ve ever had a fight that’s lasted longer than a few minutes. He’s always quick to apologize, and I’m always quick to accept it.
“Whatever.” I continue onward with the act that I’m mad as I slump down into my chair when, in reality, I just want to hear more of what he has to say.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he apologizes. “I shouldn’t be getting so worked up. If you want me to set you up with Hart, then fine. Against my better judgment, I will. I set out the terms, so now, I suppose I need to follow through on them.”
I feel the faintest flutter within as Green rubs along my hand, I hadn’t realized he hadn’t let go until eventually, he does and I’m filled with a sense of absence.
I swallow to resolve it. “ Good .” I keep up with this hard-headed attitude I’m trying to front. “Because we seriously need to move past this and discuss the logistics of this plan. There needs to be some structure here. It can’t just be a free for all, Green.”
“Why am I not surprised you’ve already got this all figured out?” Green counters, visibly impressed, as he settles back within his chair and reaches to munch on the other half of the sandwich.
I roll my eyes. Even despite my underlying reluctance, if I’m going to partake in a plan, I’m going to do it right. I’ve seen every romance movie that has ever existed. I know how couples fall in love. It’s a simple science.
“I’ve spent this entire week while you’ve been moping around, visually outlining how things are going to go down.” I reach back into my bag, pulling out my sketchbook and dropping it on top of the table. “I call it…” I flip open to the first page, “how to fall in love: a guide for two single, hopeless dummies. What do you think?”
Green instantly starts to laugh—shaking his head as a faint glimmer reflects in his eyes. “I think,” he begins. “Of course you’ve made a whole assortment of drawings to map this out for me. Let me guess, you’ve already practiced your presentation too?”
My cheeks go hot. “Maybe a couple of times…” I murmur beneath my breath, “but that’s beside the point.” My voice returns to moderate volume level. “You’re a visual learner. I’m an artist. Drawing out the plan only seemed fitting. Now, are you ready to listen or not?”
Green confidently rests his hands back behind his head, flexing his arms as he does. It makes me lose my train of thought until he speaks up and draws me out of it. “I’m all ears.”
I take in a deep breath, attempting to search for my confidence along with the speech I’d memorized in my mind. “Okay, where do we begin? To preface, what is something I do every year that you think is silly?”
Green squints before it hits him. “Sign up for hot yoga classes?”
“No!” I shake my head, though I can’t help but feel moderately offended. “Try again.”
“Oh, I know!” He lights up, raising a finger into the air. “When you go on that juice cleanse thing. I don’t know how you do that for a week, Hazel. Doesn’t it upset your?—”
“Okay, no more guessing!” I cut him off. “You're wrong. What I’m referring to is my annual movie and book marathon. Remember?”
“Oh…” Green purses his lips into a smirk. “That’s what I said, did I not?”
I throw a packet of crisps his way, one he doesn’t mind being hit with given that he catches them and immediately pops them open. “What about it?” he says, the crisps crunching beneath his teeth. “ Explain .”
“Well, after watching all of them, I’ve narrowed down how exactly each couple fell in love. Because no matter the story, plot, setting…whatever you wanna call it, they all followed the same five steps. You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Step one.” I flip to the next page in the scrapbook where I’ve illustrated a couple in black in white, catching each other’s gaze. “Catch their attention.”
It’s a simple step but one quintessential to the entire plot.
I need to stop thinking about this like it’s a book.
“In every romance, there’s always that memorable first exchange. The moment where you see the story really begin to blossom. That's what we both need. You need to find a way to catch Amira’s gaze, and I need to find a way to catch Hart’s.”
“Didn’t I already do that?” Green rebuts. “I mean, she was looking me up and down at the pub. Was she not?”
“Sure, but it doesn’t count.” I shake my head. “This plan officially starts as of today. We both have to begin at step one, intentionally .”
“Fine,” Green agrees, rustling back through the crisps bag. “Whatever you say. What’s step two?”
“I’m glad you asked.” I flip onto the next page. Here, I’ve drawn a recreation of the cards on the doorstep scene in the movie Love Actually . “This step will require us both to make a romantic gesture for the other person. It’s simple, and when the time comes, we can think about what kind of gesture that will be. Does that sound good?”
“Sounds great. Step three?” he encourages me to carry on, though I’m already flipping the page regardless.
This time, Green whistles as his eyes widen at the illustration I’ve drawn of a couple kissing. “Hazel, how could you draw something so inappropriate? In a library too? Shame on you…”
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes, gesturing back to the drawing. “Step three is important. It’s the first kiss. Everyone remembers their first kiss with someone, so you’ve got to make it special.”
Green isn’t as receptive to agree this time around. “I hardly remember any of my first kisses.” He shrugs, dumping the crumbs from the crisps bag into his mouth. “Do you?”
I swallow deeply, refusing to answer his question as I quickly move along to the next page of my book.
We need to stay on track here.
“Um—step four. Learn a secret about them. Now …” I attempt to resolve the sudden clamminess of my palms. “This one is important, it’s almost the gateway into really getting to know the person. When we learn a secret about someone, it makes us feel closer to them. It makes them trust us. That’s what we need here. Trust .”
“Does it matter the depth of the secret?” Green asks, curious to know more as he leans in across the table.
“I mean, ideally, yes. The deeper the secret, the more the person trusts you. If Amira says one time she stole candy from the pound shop as a kid, then you’ll know just how much she trusts you. We’re looking for depth here, Green. It’s gotta be something that no one else knows.”
“Got it.” He nods and somehow, as we approach the final stage in the process, I’m shocked at just how receptive he’s been to each and every step. I mean, I didn’t expect much of a debate given his go-with-the-flow personality, but I’m surprised he’s let me take the lead on this. Need I forget, this was supposed to be his plan...
“Is that all?” he asks. “Is that the final step?”
“Not quite.” I’m almost reluctant to flip to the next page, given I’ve drawn a couple sneaking behind closed doors with the acronym NSFW bolded overtop. Though, I’m left with no other choice as I imminently flip the page and Green’s face lights up in delight.
“Seal the deal?” he reads in cursive before flashing me a suggestive look, one that makes me want to run and hide. “That’s the last step, Hazel? Damn .”
“Yes, it is.” I nervously inform him. I don’t know how we keep ending back at this subtle “sex” talk, but in any romance novel or movie I’ve ever read, closed door or not, somehow, someway, something happens, therefore, it couldn’t be excluded.
“You know, Haze.” Green leans in close, tapping on the page. “This might be my favorite step of all.”
“Don’t be gross!” I push his comment aside, although there’s nothing gross about envisioning Green in such a setting. Hot, bothered, turned on, naked?—
I slam the scrapbook shut and shove it back into my bag as Green leans back into his chair, intertwines his hands and rests them casually over top of his stomach before flashing me a smirk.
I hate how good he looks all the time.
“What's that look for?” I inquire, knowing all too well to trust that his sly smirk is nothing more than just for amusement. There’s always an ulterior motive.
“I’m just thinking about how you forgot one tiny little detail.”
One tiny little detail?
I furrow my brows, reciting the steps back in my mind in an attempt to understand where I could’ve possibly gone wrong.
“What? That’s not possible,” I tell him, finding no faults. “What am I missing?”
“Haze.” He commands my attention. “The first thing we both need to do before any of this is get our respective love interests on board. Don’t you think so?”
He’s right.
Sometimes, the simplest of things are always the easiest to overlook. The truth is, unless Amira and Hart are actually interested in the potential of pursuing something with the two of us, this plan is doomed to fail before it’s even begun.
“I’ll tell you what,” Green says. “We’ll give it till Monday. You talk to Amira. I’ll talk to Hart, and somehow, someway, if we both work our magic…” He’s back to confidently smiling over at me. “We’ll make this thing happen.”