16. G R E E N
SIXTEEN
G R E E N
10 YEARS AGO - Age 14
“Mum!” My voice bounces from wall to wall as I shout in through the house. “I’m going out to play footy with some friends. I’ll be home before the streetlights come on, alright? Bye!”
I don’t wait for her to respond before I slam the door shut, kick a football up into my hands and pace my way down the driveway.
Today’s been go, go, go, but I’m not quite done yet. Not only was class full of assignments and tests, but after school, I had practice—one that went so well that the boys and I aren’t ready to call it quits yet.
We’re convinced that if we keep our momentum going, we’ll be able to finally beat our competitor school in our match next week. They say practice makes perfect, and boy, if we want to beat them…we’re sure as hell going to need a lot of it.
“Daniel. Wait!” Mum takes me by surprise as she swings open the door and calls out my name. The panic ridden throughout her voice forces me to quickly turn on my heel and meet her face. She looks distressed—worried.
“Everything alright, Mum?” I ask, paving my way back to the doorstep. “What’s going on?”
“It’s…Hazel.” Mum runs a troubled hand along her forehead, and almost instantly, I feel the world stop.
“Hazel?” I can barely repeat her name back to her. “What do you mean, ‘it’s Hazel’? Is she okay? Is she hurt?” I discard my football to the side, hardly having enough strength in my palms to keep grasp of it. “Tell me something didn’t happen to her, Mum. Please!”
Most of the lads at school laugh when they realize that not only is my best friend a girl, but she’s also two years younger than me.
I don’t care what others think.
From the moment Hazel first came into my life, she’s become a necessary part of it. She’s shown me friendship unlike anyone else. Taught me things I don’t think anyone else ever could and made me realize that I can never ever lose her because losing Hazel would mean losing a piece of myself.
“Relax, Daniel, she’s okay. She’s alright.”
Mum places a comforting hand on either side of my shoulders to help settle me. I hadn’t realized that my breathing had turned borderline erratic.
“It’s just, Hazel came racing here after school looking for you. I told her you were at practice and would be back soon, but…” Her voice trails off as she sinks into the doorframe. “She seemed really upset about something, Daniel and now I’m really worried about her.”
“Is she still here?” I ask, ready to charge my way inside. “I’ll go and speak to her now.”
“She’s not here.” Mum shakes her head. “I asked for her to come in, but she said she needed to go somewhere to think. Somewhere to clear her mind. I asked her what she meant, but all she said was that she was going to ‘your spot.’ Now, I don’t know where ‘your spot’ is exactly, but if you need me to, I can drive you there and…DANIEL!”
Mum’s sentence trails off as I race my way past her and rush through the house.
“Daniel, stop! Where on Earth are you going?'' She follows after me as I reach the back-end of the garden and unlock the back gate.
“To the spot,” I tell her. “I need to find her. I need to talk to her.” I refuse to slow down, but now Mum has clutched onto my arm and halted me in place.
“Mum, please,” I plead as she scans my face, her worry from before equally reflected back at me.
“Just…” She exhales, accepting that I’m going to go no matter what she says or does. “Be safe, okay?”
“I promise I will.” I plant a kiss on her cheek before stepping backward and exiting through the back gate of our house.
My family and I live on the outskirts of Crawley, on the cusp of Copthorne. Our garden backs onto a vast countryside with tall grass, pebbled trails and an assortment of hidden passages.
Over the years, both Hazel and I have explored every nook and cranny this town has to offer, and in doing so, the two of us discovered somewhere only we know.
About a ten minute walk away, just over a valleyside and past an abandoned farm, is a bridge. From what the two of us have seemed to gather, the bridge was used as a means to help the farmers cattle safely cross the ravine that divides through the lot.
The bridge is old with its worn brick that supports its frame and an abundance of moss trails its way up from the water—dating it back to the late 19th century.
From afar, its structural stability is slightly questionable, but when you really get up close to it, you can see that such a frame has withstood the test of time.
Just like mine and Hazel’s friendship.
It’s been five years since we first met and candidly, I don’t think a single day has passed by where we haven’t spoken.
We’re “thick as thieves,” as my dad would put it. Or “two peas in a pod,” as her mum likes to say, but frankly, I say that we’re one and the same.
When Hazel’s happy—I’m happy.
When Hazel’s mad—I’m mad.
And when Hazel hurts, it’s like I can feel it too.
“Hazel!” I cry out her name as I run down the hill, using my hands to cup around my mouth as the bridge slowly fades into view.
No voice follows, but it doesn’t stop me. I keep up my pace and call out her name yet again. “Hazel?” I shout over and over. “Hazel, are you there?”
“I’m here,” a sniffly voice calls back out to me, and without needing to look any further, I see her. Sat along the edge of the bridge in our usual spot, with her legs dangling over either side, is my Hazel—picking at the moss, rubbing it in between her fingertips, and throwing it into the water over and over.
As I reach her side it takes her a second to make direct eye contact with me, only when she does, my stomach plummets to my feet.
Hazel’s once deep brown eyes are now surrounded by redness, and within an instant I come to the conclusion that she’s been crying—crying a lot.
Her long-sleeve is damped as she uses it to wipe across her rounded cheeks and her sad attempt to flash me a weary smile as she finally says, “Hello,” completely breaks my heart.
“Haze.” I hop up beside her, embracing her in my arms. “What’s wrong?” I speak directly into her hair, running a soothing hand up and down her back. “My mum said you were looking for me. I’m so sorry. I was at practice and it finished late, and then ? —”
“It’s okay.” Hazel’s voice is muffled as she whispers against my chest. “You didn’t know, Greenie.”
“But I should’ve.” I pull back, using my thumbs to wipe away her salted tears as I clutch onto her sweet face. “It pains me that I wasn’t there when you needed me, Haze. It literally pains me.”
She looks straight into my eyes. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. You’re always here when I need you.”
I rub small circles over the apples of her cheeks. Over time, I’ve formed this unconscious habit of making Hazel’s safety and well-being my own personal responsibility.
I know I don’t need to. Hazel is strong, resourceful and well-equipped to handle her own battles. But every time I look at her, I can’t help but see that little girl standing in the front of the class, sporting an innocent smile and telling everyone about her passions.
She’s had her hooks into me from the start and I don’t think she even realizes it.
“Just…please tell me what happened?” This ambiguity is slowly killing me. “Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?”
“No, I’m not hurt.” Hazel sniffles yet refuses to make eye contact with me. “I’m just upset.”
“Upset about what?” I pull on her small frame so that she can nestle into mine. She’s cold. Shivering. I tuck her in tighter to warm her up. “What happened that made you upset? Do I need to beat someone up?”
“You don’t need to beat anyone up,” she tells me in all-seriousness, yet there’s a glimmer of playfulness in her tone. “Promise me that if I tell you, you won’t go and do anything irrational. Promise me, Green?”
“I promise,” I tell her, even though it’s not the truth. The truth is, I can’t make any promises. If someone has hurt her, I don’t care who they are, I’ll sort them out. No one hurts my girl and gets away with it—no one. “Now, for a final time, tell me what happened, Hazel. It’s killing me seeing you like this.”
Hazel’s sigh is prolonged as she rubs along her eyes and slumps her shoulders. “Do you, uh—remember that boy I told you I liked?”
I grind my molars to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Don’t ask me what Hazel sees in Maxwell Thomas, the idiot who she has a “supposed” crush on also just so happens to be the same guy who tormented her in the back of the class on her very first day of school.
Hazel tells me not to hold grudges and that people can change, but the reality is, once you’re in my bad books you’re there for life. And Maxwell Thomas? Well, I know for certain his shitty egotistical attitude hasn’t changed one bit. Time or not.
“Yes. What about him?” I roll my tongue along the backside of my clenched teeth. “What did he do?”
“Well…” Hazel wipes her nose once more, using her palms to help her sit up straight. “I finally built up the courage to tell him that I liked him, and…”
“And?” I probe instantly, hating the way that this is being tortuously dragged out.
“I can’t.” She’s overcome with emotion once more. “I’m too embarrassed, Greenie. It’s too embarrassing. I’m sorry.” She attempts to hide her face in her hands, but I stop her.
“Hazel,” I say her name like it’s the only name I’ve ever known. “You can talk to me, okay? You know I’d never judge you. You know that, right? You’re my best friend.”
She nods in agreement, but it’s no use, she’s still struggling to calm herself down. “He just made me feel so…crappy about myself and like something was wrong with me. I just…” It’s heart wrenching to watch her hardly spit the words out. “Don’t want you to think the same thing.”
“That’s enough.” I clutch ahold of both her hands and bring them toward my chest. “Do you not realize how much you mean to me, Hazel? How nothing you could say would ever change the way I care for you? Now, you better tell me what he said, or else I’m going to find Maxwell Thomas, myself, and force it out of him. Three…two…one ? —”
“When I told him that I liked him he said that he didn’t like me back because I had ‘no experience.’ There, Green. Are you happy?”
My eyes narrow. Happy? No. I’m not happy. I’m fucking fuming. “‘No experience’?” I repeat the foreign words back to her. “You’re both twelve years old, for Christ's sake. What kind of experience is he looking for?”
Hazel pulls one of her hands out of my grasp and uses it to peel away some hair that has since stuck to her cheek. “Someone told him that I’d never been kissed before, Green, and that apparently turned him off.”
A breeze passes over us and thank God it does, my blood is boiling. It’s like I’ve transformed into a kettle, whistling away on the stovetop, without anyone around to take me off.
I already hated Maxwell Thomas, but now he’s got another thing coming. There’s so much fury that I want to unleash right about now, but I know I can’t. I know I need to focus. Hazel is my priority. Hazel is the reason why I need to calm down.
“Listen, Hazel.” My voice is equally as direct as it is affirming. “Maxwell Thomas is a tosser. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. You’re better off without him,” I tell her with as much assurance as I can, hopeful she’ll believe me.
She doesn’t.
“I guess.” She shrugs, staring off into the distance.
“You guess?” I practically whip my head over my shoulder. “What do you mean, you guess, Hazel? Would you seriously have wanted to be with him? Had your first kiss with him? He’s an arse.”
“I’d rather an arse than no one!” she argues.
“Don’t say that.” I shake my head. “You know you don’t mean that.”
“But I do.” She narrows in her stare at me, eyes so full of hurt that it looks like she’s physically in pain. “I’m the only person in my year that hasn’t had their first kiss yet, Green. So, can I even blame him for not wanting me?”
“Things happen for people at different times,” I protest. “I was practically your age when I first had my first kiss and guess what? I wish I had waited, because after it happened, I realized just how little it meant.”
Hazel’s hardly listening at this point, instead, she’s just mumbling nonsense under her breath. Things like, “no one wants me,” and “I’m going to be kissless for the rest of my life.” But what makes me lose all sense of rationality is when she mutters, “I’m nothing special…”
Now, before I can even process another thought, let alone what I’m about to do next, both of my hands intertwine within Hazel’s hair, as I gently grasp onto her face and pull her lips into mine.
For a moment, she’s frozen— unsure —confused. But as I slowly part her mouth with my own, all at once we begin to move in sync.
The kiss is short, sweet, but it’s long enough for me to dissect that Hazel tastes like cherries, and that her skin feels like silk as I brush my thumbs along her face.
Never in a million years did I think Hazel and I would kiss. We’ve always been strictly friends, regardless of what everyone around us likes to allude to, but now that we have kissed, I don’t regret it in the slightest. My only hope is that when Hazel looks back at this moment, she remembers the next few words that escape my mouth, for it is the most honest truth I’ve ever spoken in my life.
“Hazel Collins…” I pull back from her lips, meeting her soft brown eyes. “You’ll always be the most special girl in the world to me.”