The Prospect (Crawfield Football Club #3)

8. H A Z E L

EIGHT

H A Z E L

Nights on campus are always the same: come back from class, hit the showers, get dinner, get started on some homework, get ready for bed, watch a movie, and go to sleep.

I like consistency. I like routines. By nature we’re creatures of habit, and for me, this has been mine for four years straight.

I’m about halfway through my nightly routine, hunkering down on a modern-day art piece I need to finish up before class next week when Amira comes rolling into our bedroom, boisterously laughing as she waves goodbye to some friends in the hallway.

I’ve been waiting for the right time all weekend to talk to her about Green and I’s plan, but every night, she’s either been MIA or crashed out on her bed by the time I’m ready to talk.

I can’t put it off much longer. I know I need to speak to her and given that she seems to be in a cheerful mood, now seems better than ever...

“Hey, Hazel!” she calls out to me, flinging off her jacket and tossing it so that it lands on the back of her desk chair. “You missed out on a really fun party tonight. Seriously, Jacob from the other building shotgunned at least eight beers and then threw it all up over Flora. Isn’t that just so funny?” She can’t seem to stop herself from laughing as she falls back down onto her bed in a snort.

“ Hilarious …” I say dryly, yet as interested as one can be when hearing about someone projectile vomiting. “Actually, Amira…” I set my paintbrushes to the side and turn in my chair to face her. “I uh—wanted to talk to you about something. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure thing.” She stands up and paces her way across the room toward her drawers. “I’m just about to get ready for bed though, do you mind?”

“Not at all,” I tell her with a wave of my hand as she scrumages through her messy drawers. “I um—just wanted to talk to you about the other night.”

“‘The other night’?” she repeats back to me, whipping her T-shirt over her head and exposing her completely lace, sheer bra in the process.

Amira and I have been roommates for years now. This is nothing I haven’t seen before, but given that now I’m looking at her as a future love interest for my best friend, well, I can’t help but feel immediately awkward.

Amira has always had this perfect body—her genetics really came in handy there. She’s got this model-like figure with refined features, flawless skin, and a downright frustrating ability to lure in anyone she wants. Frankly, I don’t know why she even came to uni. Amira could’ve easily had a whole career devoted to modeling alone. Hell, she could wear a paper bag and she’d still look like a million bucks. Maybe if I looked like her, Green would see me as more than just a?—

“Hello, earth to Hazel?” Amira probes me once more, breaking me free from this co-comparsion complex. “Are you there? You just zoned out. What were you saying about the other night?” she pries.

“Sorry, I…uh…was wondering…” I clear my throat once more as she pulls an oversized tee over her head and falls back onto her bed. “Do you remember my friend,” I regain strength over my words. “Daniel Green?”

“Daniel Green?” She seems to run the name through her mind a few times over before finally, it seems to click. “Oh yeah, the guy you were sitting with in the booth at the pub. I remember him. He was sexy . What about him?”

The compliment alone makes my insides clench, my heart go heavy and my emotions to well up my throat. “Well…” I finally understand how Green felt the other day. “I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in being set up with him? You know, to date?”

Amira peers up from her manicured hands and meets my eyes with a dumbfounded stare. “What?” Her voice is low and full of uncertainty. “You want to set me up with Daniel Green?”

I nod, trying my best to mask my hesitation as I cheerfully smile. “Yeah, you two seemed to really hit it off the other night, so I thought hey, why not? You’d be a cute couple. Don’t you think so?” I wince.

“But, Hazel…” Amira readjusts herself to sit back along the edge of her bed. “I thought you liked him.”

I attempt to swallow, but somehow, I manage to choke on the dryness in my throat instead. Christ, I knew she’d remembered. Her comment back at the pub last week was confirmation of that.

“I’ve heard a lot about you…”

How could I have been so stupid?

Immediately, I’m transported back to my first year of uni where in an attempt to get to know Amira better, I took her up on one of her initial offers to go to a local off-campus party. Little did I know what exactly I was in for…

At that party, I got so incredibly wasted, and that night, as Amira walked me back from the bar, I revealed my deepest confession to her.

“You know I’ve been in love before,” I slur out as Amira slings her arm over my shoulder, steadying me in place.

“Is that so?” She smirks down at me, looking for more details. “With who, huh?”

“My best friend,” I admit without an ounce of resistance, hardly hearing that little voice in my brain that tells me to stop what I’m saying right now.

“Your best friend?” Amira repeats back to me as she continues to guide the way, opening up the doors to our building as she leads me inside.

“Yup.” I smile with a confident nod of my head. “I have been since I was seven years old. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved, and probably will be the only man I ever will.”

It feels good to finally get that off my chest, say it out loud. The confession has been on repeat in my mind for years—this is the first time I’ve ever felt it on my lips and now that I have, it feels good; it feels right.

“Wow, note to self, you’re a confessional drunk.” Amira hits the button to summon the lift. “Care to share his name?” She leans up against the wall—folding her arms inquisitively across her chest.

Suddenly, a stint of sobriety kicks in, but still, the six tequila shots still have me in a chokehold as I murmur. “Daniel Green…my Greenie,” I tell her. “It’s him. It’ll only ever be him.”

“What are you talking about?” I go red in the face as I make my way over to my bed, clutching onto my blanket as a means to appease the anxiety I feel from her remark.

“Oh, don’t act dumb, Hazel. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she counters. “And even if you didn’t tell me that secret all those years ago, just the way I saw you looking at him, talking to him, interacting with him the other night was enough to believe that there is something there between the two of you. It's obvious!”

“Well, you’re wrong,” I lie. “Nothing is going on between us, and nothing ever will. Green and I have known each other for fifteen years, Amira. If something were to have happened, it would’ve happened by now. Anyway, he wants you… not me .” I peer down at the floor at that confession, a confession that piques her interest as she sits up on the bed, fluffs out her hair, and bites down on her bottom lip.

“He wants me, you say?”

It takes everything in me to say these next few words to her. “Yes, Amira, he wants you. He likes you. He wants to be with you. So…” I tuck my knees up against my chest, hugging them in comfort. “Do you think you’d be up to giving him a chance or what?”

Amira ponders the question, getting me all riled up at the fact that she’s even weighing this up. In my mind, that tells me she’s not the right one for him. She’s not. The answer is so simple. It’s a no-brainer. If someone were to have asked me the same thing, I wouldn’t have even needed to think twice about it. I would’ve already said yes, one hundred percent yes. But the reality is, no one is asking me that. They’re asking me to ask Amira.

“You know what?” Amira confidently shoots up from the bed, strutting her way over to the mirror. “Why not?” She shrugs. “I mean, I’ve got nothing to lose. I might as well go for it!”

“ Really ?” I tell her, feeling slightly scorned at just how excitable she now suddenly seems to be by the plan.

“Mhm.” She nods confidently. “Tell Daniel Green that Amira Adel is ready for him.”

GREEN

“Ayo, Hart!” I call out his name, running after him as he makes a bee-line toward his car following practice. “Wait up!”

Hart turns over his shoulder, assessing me up and down before he stops. “Hey, Green,” he remarks as he removes his duffle bag from his shoulder and throws it into the boot of his car. “You need a lift?”

“Nah, I’m alright mate,” I deny his offer yet don’t follow my refusal up with anything else, ensuing this prolonged period of silence between the two of us as Hart folds his arms across his chest and raises a suspicious brow.

“Well, uh—what’s up then?”

Instantly, my mind goes blank, and I’m unsure if it’s because of this tension between the two of us, or the fact that my mind has been absolutely dreading having this conversation.

It’s both.

“I just wanted to talk to you about something, that’s all.”

“ Like ?” Hart’s quick to respond, visibly ready for me to stop beating around the bush and get on with it.

What’s wrong with me?

This conversation should be so simple.

This task should be so simple.

But for whatever reason, I can’t help but feel hesitant— reluctant . Why am I feeling like this? All I need to do is ask Hart if he’s interested in Hazel. Badabing, badaboom, the conversation is over, done.

Yet, even despite all of my internal convincing, I can’t seem to bring myself to the reality of just offering Hazel up like this. I don’t know. It feels wrong, especially given that I know the second I give Hart any inkling of Hazel’s intentions for him, he’s going to be all over it.

I just know it.

“Are you just going to stand there in silence or are you actually going to tell me?” Hart’s sharp voice cuts through my mind, reminding me of the simple fact I need to hold onto: if this is what Hazel wants—then this is what Hazel gets.

“What do you think about Hazel?” I ask abruptly, my voice fading out at the end as I say her name, but he hears it. He hears it loud and clear.

“Hazel?” My stomach drops as he repeats her name back to me with bright eyes. “Why? Did she ask about me?” he says with a stupidly confident and cheesy grin along his face.

“Stop smirking like that,” I scold him, already abundantly fed up with his child-like behavior. Fuck, what does Hazel see in him?

“What do you mean?” Hart protests. “You’ve just run over here, clearly trying to get my take on your best mate because obviously she asked. Am I right, or am I right, Green?”

I roll my eyes, biting my tongue as I speak. “For once, can you at least try not to be such an arrogant prick?” I grow defensive. “You know what I’m trying to say here. Are you interested in her or not?”

Hart leans up against his car. “I mean, it’s a stupid question. Hazel’s nice, funny, a sports fan, and let’s not forget, incredibly fucking hot?—”

“That’s enough!” I stop him before I have to hear any other suggestive adjective he wants to use to describe her.

“What do you mean, ‘enough’?” Hart refuses to back down. “It’s true. Hazel’s an absolute smoke show, Green. Christ, I'm shocked that you haven’t tapped it by now?—”

“I said, enough, Hart!” I grind my teeth this time, trying everything in my power not to completely disband this whole idea and say good riddance.

I knew this was going to happen, that Hart was going to manage to get under my skin. Forget it, he’s off the table, I’m going to convince Hazel to pick someone else, and if she doesn't, then sod this whole idea. I’m done.

“Oh relax, Green.” Hart playfully pushes against my chest. “Stop getting your knickers in a twist. I’m just messing around, alright?”

“Well don’t,” I throw back at him, quick to rush to Hazel’s defense. “Hazel’s my best friend, and you’re Goddamn lucky she’s even shown any interest in you! So, stop being a dick and just answer the question normally. Are you interested in her or not?”

“Jesus, Green.” Hart reaches for the handle of his car and swings it open. “You know what, based on how you’re acting. No. I’m not interested. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”

I debate letting him go, it’s an enticing thought, but as he goes to step into his car, I can’t help but stop him.

“Hart, wait. I—I’m sorry.” My apology is enough to bring him to a stop and look back at me. “It’s just…Hazel, she means a lot to me okay? And I only want what’s best for her, that’s all.”

“Which apparently isn’t me,” Hart counters with. An unamused, almost offended scowl on his face. “Isn’t that right, Green?”

“You weren’t my first choice,” I admit as he rolls his eyes. “But Hazel likes you, and I promised her I'd speak to you about it. Now that I have, I’ll let you go. Enjoy your night, Hart.”

I turn on my heel, heading back toward the stadium, only as I do, I don’t hear Hart come after me, instead, all I can hear is him igniting the ignition to his car and pulling away.

Jerk.

I’m about to step back through the front gate and break the news to Hazel when I hear a horn go off, followed by a loud voice that calls out, “Oi, Green!”

I look back over my shoulder, watching as Hart leans his head out of the window and flashes me a look. “Tell Hazel I’m interested, okay, mate? I am.”

I assess the sincerity on his face, the sincerity of his words. “You mean it?” I ask, hoping he’ll say no. “You know this isn’t some type of joke, right?”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not kidding then,” Hart responds. “I mean it, Green. Hazel’s your friend and whether you want to admit it or not, you’re my friend too. I won’t hurt her, you have to trust me.”

Trust.

I release a long, drawn-out breath at the thought until eventually, I cave. Faintly, I nod my head in Hart’s direction, a gesture he’s receptive to as he nods back, rolls up his window and pulls out of the lot, honking twice as he merges onto the street.

“Fuck.” I don’t even want to think about what just happened, nor the agreement we’ve come to.

I reach for my phone as a distraction, scrolling aimlessly until a text message appears at the top of my screen.

I spoke to Amira.

Hazel.

Immediately I start typing back.

And?

I can’t help but wonder.

She’s in.

She responds not a second later.

Did you speak to Hart?

I hesitate for a moment, reluctant on what to say. I keep it short and sweet, it’s the only way I can actually force myself to type out the message.

I did. He’s in too.

It takes Hazel the time for me to reach my car, turn the key into my ignition and shift my gear into drive for her to eventually respond. Only when she does, her message makes reality sink in.

Well then, it looks like step one…is in full effect.