22
Hazel
The smell of cinnamon and melted butter lingered in the air, a warm contrast to the sharp chill that seeped through the windows of Nevaeh’s kitchen. I sat on a stool at the counter, piping frosting onto sugar cookies shaped like stars and trees, my movements mechanical. The holiday music playing in the background felt like a mockery of the tension between me and Nevaeh.
Nevaeh was across from me, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, humming along to the song as she sprinkled crushed candy canes into her cookies. It should’ve been one of those moments we’d treasure—laughing over decorated cookies, reminiscing about our childhood, maybe even gossiping about the people we’d seen around town since coming home. Instead, I felt like a ticking time bomb, my thoughts a chaotic mess I couldn’t untangle.
“I can’t wait for Nate’s party,” Nevaeh said, breaking the silence. Her voice, overly bright, hinted at forced normalcy. “It’s going to be so fun seeing him again. I hope Campbell’s going. He always livens things up.”
My hand slipped, and the line of frosting I’d been piping onto my cookie wavered. I kept my head down, hoping Nevaeh wouldn’t notice my tense shoulders. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Nate never invited her.
“You think he’s coming?” Nevaeh continued, not waiting for a response. “I mean, its Nate’s party, so he will. Ugh, he’s so-”
“Nevaeh, can we not talk about him?” I interrupted, my voice sharper than I’d intended.
The words hung in the air, awkward. I bit the inside of my cheek, wishing I could take them back, but Nevaeh had already stopped mid-sentence, her brow furrowing as she stared at me.
“What’s your deal?” Nevaeh asked, setting down the candy cane pieces. “You’ve been weird. Did I do something?”
I shook my head, my eyes still fixed on the cookie in front of me.
“No. It’s nothing. Just drop it.”
“Hazel,” Nevaeh said, her tone edging into frustration. “You’ve barely talked to me lately. You’re not acting like my best friend anymore. It’s like you’re hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” I said, my voice tight. “You’re just imagining things.”
Nevaeh’s laugh lacked humor.
“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that. Is this about Campbell? You don’t even like him. Why would you care?”
My stomach twisted. I was sure Nevaeh could hear my pounding heart.
“I don’t care.” I lied, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
Nevaeh leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.
“You know what? I think you care. You act weird every time I mention him. Are you jealous or something?”
“Jealous?” I repeated, my voice rising. My throat felt tight, my emotions threatening to spill over. “Of what? Of you? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’re so wrapped up in yourself, Hazel,” Nevaeh snapped, her voice laced with anger now. “You can’t even be happy for me. I thought we were better than that.”
My hands clenched into fists, the frosting bag slipping from my grip and landing with a dull thud on the counter.
“Maybe I’m tired of always having to put your feelings first!” I shouted, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Did you ever think of that? Did you ever think that maybe I have my own problems?”
Nevaeh blinked, stunned, before her expression hardened.
“What problems, Hazel? Sitting there writing your minor stories, hoping one day someone will notice you? Guess what? Life doesn’t work that way. You can’t hide forever.”
The words cut deeper than I expected. My breath hitched, but I refused to let Nevaeh see how much they hurt.
“At least I don’t need everyone’s attention to feel good about myself,” I shot back. “Maybe if you stopped making everything about you, you’d realize that other people have problems too!”
Nevaeh’s eyes widened, then narrowed.
“You’re jealous,” she said, her voice low, almost venomous. “You like him, don’t you? You can’t stand the idea that he might like me.” I opened my mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. The truth choked me. My silence was all the confirmation Nevaeh needed. “Wow,” Nevaeh said, her voice dripping with disbelief and hurt. “Some friend you are. I trusted you, Hazel.”
I felt the sting of tears in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I grabbed my coat from the back of the chair, my movements jerky, and rushed.
“You know nothing.” I muttered, my voice shaking.
Without another word, I stormed out of the house. The weight of Nevaeh’s words pressed down on my chest as I stepped out into the biting cold. Snow crunched under my boots, the icy wind clawing at my cheeks, but I barely felt it. My mind was a storm, guilt and anger swirling together until I couldn’t think straight.
I couldn’t tell her the truth. How could I? She was right—I betrayed her. But she didn’t see everything. She was unaware of the pain caused by constant invisibility.
I kept walking, aimless and numb, my breath clouding the air in front of me. Home felt confining; distance offered no solace. Nevaeh’s words echoed in my head like a relentless drumbeat. I stopped at the corner of a quiet street, my hand tightening on the strap of my bag. I couldn’t stay here. Not with Nevaeh. Not with everything hanging in the air between us, waiting to strangle me.
My thoughts drifted to Campbell. I could see his amiable smile, hear the way his laugh rumbled deep in his chest. I’d warned myself to keep him out of the mess in my head, but the temptation of being elsewhere was too strong.
My hand went to my phone, but I stopped myself before I opened his contact. No. I’m not calling him. I don’t even know what I’d say. Instead, a different idea crept in. Nate’s birthday party wasn’t for a few more days, but nothing was stopping me from leaving early. I’d already planned to go—it wouldn’t be strange if I just showed up early. The matter wasn’t Campbell-centric. I just needed space. Somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn’t here.
Shaking hands betrayed my racing mind. Not cold, but the weight of the choice. I turned on my heel and dashed back to my house, my breath coming faster now, fueled by the urgency of needing to leave. By the time I stepped through the door, I already had my bag in mind.
It didn’t take long to throw everything together, shoving clothes into my suitcase, my hands shaking with every movement. I wasn’t running; I told myself. I just needed a change of scenery, needed air to breathe, and my hometown wasn’t giving it to me. So, with hugs and kisses goodbye from my family, I left without regrets.
As I slid into the driver’s seat of my car, the engine’s low rumble steadied my nerves. The roads stretched out in front of me, blanketed by the faint glow of streetlights against the snow. The farther I drove, the lighter I felt.
Nevaeh’s words still clung to me like a bruise, but they didn’t weigh me down as much now. I let the quiet hum of the radio fill the silence, my thoughts quieter than they’d been in days. And though I wouldn’t admit it to anyone but myself, the thought of seeing Campbell again—of hearing his laugh and feeling the warmth of his presence—was a slight comfort I needed.
**
My hands tightened around the steering wheel as I navigated through the quiet streets of Campbell and Nate’s hometown, the GPS on my phone guiding me closer to Nate’s house. Driving gave me time to think, but instead of clarity, all I felt was an overwhelming sense of nervous energy. My stomach twisted as I typed out a quick message to Nate, letting him know I was almost there. His response was immediate.
Can’t wait to see you!
The sight of Nate standing outside the house, a wide grin on his face, put me a little at ease. I parked the car and stepped out, brushing my hands down my hoodie as if smoothing away my doubts.
“Hey!” Nate greeted, pulling me into a hug.
He smelled like bonfire smoke and cologne, the scent that reminded me of cozy winter nights.
“Sorry for showing up so early.” I said, my voice tentative as I pulled back, searching his face for any hint of irritation.
“Don’t apologize,” he said with a laugh, waving off my concern. “I’m glad you’re here. Come on in. I’ll introduce you to some friends.”
Friends. My heart skipped a beat, my mind jumping to Campbell. Would he be here? My palms felt clammy as I shoved them into my hoodie pockets, forcing myself to nod and follow Nate up the driveway. Relax, I told myself. You’re here to clear your head, not to make things more complicated. The warmth of the house embraced me as I stepped inside. Laughter and the low hum of conversation carried from the backyard. Nate led me through the house and out the sliding glass doors.
The backyard was lively, yet intimate. A group of people gathered around a sleek, built-in firepit that cast a golden glow over their faces. The air smelled of wood-smoke and something sweet, like toasted marshmallows. I scanned the crowd, my heart thudding against my ribs. And then I saw him.
Campbell.
Slouching in a chair, drink in hand, he laughed at something one guy had said. The sound of his laugh, deep and full of genuine amusement, sent a strange flutter through my chest. He looked so at ease, the firelight catching in his dark hair and highlighting the sharp line of his jaw. But then his gaze shifted, and his eyes found mine. The laughter died on his lips, replaced by a flicker of shock that turned into something unreadable. Campbell shot to his feet so fast that his drink almost spilled.
“Hazel,” he said, his voice low, like he wasn’t sure I was real. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”
“I had a change of plans.”
He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he cleared his throat.
“Well, welcome.” He motioned toward the group by the fire. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.” I followed him, my stomach twisting with nerves. As we reached the group, Campbell gestured toward two guys and two girls. “This is Maria, Anna, Kyle, and Jake. Guys, this is Hazel.”
Maria’s face lit up with a wide grin as she stood and came over to pull me into an unexpected hug.
“No way, I’ve heard so much about you! I am so happy to meet you.”
I blinked, surprised by the warmth in her voice.
“Nice to meet you, too.” I managed, my cheeks flushing under Maria’s gaze.
“Nate told us about you,” Anna chimed in, her tone curious and friendly as she made space for me to sit down. “Said you were a writer. What’s that like?”
Before I could answer, Nate appeared at my side with a teasing smile.
“Hazel, you want a drink? We’ve got beer, cider, vodka, whatever you want.”
I hesitated, unsure of how to decline without sounding awkward. But before I could respond, Campbell’s voice cut through the air.
“She doesn’t drink.” His tone was firm, as if the statement was an unshakable fact. I glanced at him, startled, and caught the amused smirks Nate and Maria exchanged. They said nothing, but their knowing looks made my cheeks burn. “I’ll get her something.” Campbell added, already walking toward the cooler by the firepit.
Maria leaned closer to Anna, her grin playful.
“He has it so bad.” She whispered to Anna, though it was loud enough for me to hear.
I sank into my seat, grateful for their friendliness but also hyperaware of how out of place I felt. I tried to focus on their chatter—Maria asking where I was from, Anna mentioning how much they had been looking forward to the break—but my attention kept straying to Campbell. He returned a moment later, holding out a can of Red Bull.
“Here.” he said, his voice softer now.
I stared at the can, my lips parting in surprise.
“You remembered?”
Campbell shrugged, his expression casual but his eyes intense.
“Of course.”
I took the drink from him, brushing his fingers.
“Thanks.”
As I cracked open the can, Nate nudged my shoulder.
“You’re welcome to crash here tonight, by the way. Everyone else is staying.”
I exhaled, some of the tension easing from my shoulders.
“Thanks. That’s nice of you.”
I relaxed into the moment, even as I sensed Campbell’s gaze lingering on me. When I glanced up, he was leaning back in his chair, his beer bottle poised near his lips. The firelight flickered in his eyes as he looked at me, his mouth curling into a slow, arrogant smile. I took a sip of my Red Bull, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. What are you doing to me, Campbell Atwood?
**