21. H A Z E L
TWENTY-ONE
H A Z E L
With his arm draped along my shoulder, I find myself settled beneath the crook of Hart’s neck, nestled in close as he soothingly runs a hand up and down my spine.
I’ve never been comfier in my life—truthfully, sweatpants and a jumper, cozy socks on my feet, all the while I’m laying in bed with a human heater practically clung to my side.
It’s nice— no . It’s better than nice.
It’s right—this feels right.
“They really nailed the casting of this movie.” Hart points toward the screen, smiling as Patrick Swayze makes an appearance in his maroon button-down. “I could never picture anyone else in this role but him.”
I hum to agree.
Rather than re-watching this movie for the hundredth time over, I’ve found myself hyper-fixating on Hart instead.
The way his cheeks dimple inwards when he smiles.
How his incredibly long legs dorkily dangle over the edge of the bed because of just how tall he is, and most importantly, reminiscing on the fact that not once, all night long, has Hart not rolled with the punches.
Christopher Hart—the ultimate people pleaser.
I feel like I could stay here forever, and for the first time all night, as my mind inevitably wanders back to Green, somehow, with Hart’s comfort, I have an easier time letting go of the what-ifs and instead find refuge in focusing on the now.
My eyes slowly drift shut as I use the pitter-pattering of Hart’s heartbeat to soothe me into a sleep. It’s peaceful until all at once, his raspy voice startles me awake.
“Shit!” It’s the first thing I hear him say as my eyes jolt awake.
“What? Is everything okay? What’s going on?” Instantly, I resort to assuming that the worst has happened as I sit up in a frenzy.
Hart groans in annoyance as he gestures toward the screen. “The laptop froze during the best part!”
I shift my head back toward the computer, where mid-kiss, shirtless Patrick Swayze stands.
Shit.
“Sorry!” I apologize, reaching out to click on the keyboard in an attempt to start things back up.
It’s no use.
“Is everything okay?” Hart peers over my shoulder to catch a glimpse, but I block his view.
“Yeah, it just…” There’s no real pleasant way to tell him that this laptop is a complete and total piece of crap. “Looks like I’m going to have to restart everything.” I sigh, holding down the power button to reboot it. “Sorry, Hart,” I apologize once more. “I’m going to buy a new laptop soon, I promise. A good one. One that doesn’t freeze every time I try to use it and I can actually draw on.”
“Why? Is this one really that bad?” He leans back into my pillow. I can’t help but wonder if his scent will linger.
“Does having to charge it every hour constitute as bad?” I playfully throw his way, brushing aside that thought.
He winces. “Maybe a little.”
With a roll of my eyes, I laugh, continuing to fuss around with the device until he gestures his hand out for me to grasp.
“Let it do its thing,” he instructs, guiding me back into his chest. “Come. Lie down. I’ll grab it for us when it starts back up again.”
“Are you sure?” I hesitate. “I know some tricks on how to get it to reboot faster.”
“Reboot faster? Why would you want to do that? Are you trying to get rid of me?”
I turn bright red. “No! That’s not it at all…” My chest tightens as I gulp back. “I just thought that maybe?—”
“Gotcha,” Hart cuts me off with a laugh, relieving me instantly. “Do you know that you’re adorable when you get all flustered?” Hart brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face. It’s enough to silence me instantly. “You get all red and shifty.” He smiles, his thumb falling onto my chin. “Just like you did when you complimented me earlier…”
My eyes widen as I’m reminded of just how “adorable” my big mouth is. You know, the one that forced us to recoil back to my dorm rather than drink the night away.
“About that…” I shy my face away. “That was so cringy of me. I think I’ve come to the realization that nothing good comes from me drinking alcohol. Absolutely nothing.”
“Are you really apologizing for calling me gorgeous?” Despite this dimly lit room, there’s a glimmer in Hart’s eyes as he raises a playful brow. “Really, Hazel? I’m not sure if I should be offended or not?”
“Oh, gosh.” My head practically falls into my hands as I rub my eyes. This is getting worse and worse. Things were so much simpler when the movie was doing all the talking for us. “You know what I mean. I just didn’t mean for it to come across as awkward as it did.” I laugh to combat this embarrassment. “I’m not sure if you noticed or not, Hart, but I’m kind of new to this whole dating thing...”
Hart flashes me a look. “Really? You don’t say.”
“Shut it,” I scold him with a playful nudge. “Besides, while we’re on this topic of apologizing, I might as well apologize for changing all of tonight's plans. I know you wanted to go back to the party, but if I’m being honest, I was over it. I’m sorry if it ruined the vibe.”
Rather than a response, Hart stays silent, giving me absolutely nothing to work with but a chuckle that he desperately tries to hide behind his hand.
“Are you…laughing at me?” I know I should be offended, but Hart’s got this laugh that makes it almost impossible not to join in. “What…what’s so funny about all this? Huh?”
“It’s just…” He can’t seem to stop. “Do you realize that you’ve not stopped apologizing since the movie turned off? I swear, Hazel, it’s like it’s become your new favorite word.”
I open my mouth, the words “I’m sorry” lingering on the tip of my tongue once more, but I stop myself. It’s not in time though, Hart notices and it only makes him smirk that much…
“Oh, pretty girl…” He runs a tender hand along my face. “Do you always apologize this much?”
My stomach just about does a somersault.
How does he always know what to say and how to say it?
I wish I had that ability.
I’m silent as he leans in, his breath tickling against my cheeks.
“Hm, Hazel? Do you?”
“Sometimes…” I mumble, feeling so unsure yet entirely at ease at the same time. It’s an impossible feeling to describe as my eyes are drawn to his lips.
“You know, Hazel.” Hart sucks in a breath, forcing all of the air to escape the room. “In my twenty-five years of life, I’ve come to learn that sometimes you’ve just got to be unapologetically… you .”
I tighten my lips to fight off an aching smile beneath. “Let me guess,” I tease. “You read that on the inside of a bubble gum wrapper?”
A faint gasp escapes his lips. “How did you know?”
I shrug playfully. “You look like the bubble gum chewing type…”
The way he feeds into every joke is addicting. I love it almost as much as I love the way he runs a strong hand along his jawline in laughter.
Christ, it’s like a drug.
“Call me what you want, Hazel, but the reality is what I’m saying is true. You shouldn’t be afraid to say how you feel or tell people what you want, especially me . I know we’re still getting to know one another, but I want you to be comfortable when we’re together. I want us to be open and honest with each other.”
I run my hand along my forehead nervously, agreeing with his words yet still factoring in the truth. “I’ve never been all that good at telling people how I really feel…”
Oh, isn’t that the truth?
“I guess I just need some more practice,” I bashfully admit.
“Then practice, we will.” Hart smiles. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go back and forth telling each other things we’ve been too afraid to say until we’re both not afraid anymore. How does that sound?”
My stomach drops. “Oh, I don’t know,” I admit. “Only completely terrifying.”
“It’ll be fun.” He disregards my comment with a wink. “Now, let’s get started. I’ll go first. Hazel…” Hart begins by reciting my name. “I hate to say it, but in the name of being honest and more comfortable with one another, those colorful socks that you’re wearing, well, they’re the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Excuse me?!” I don’t realize I’m swatting his shoulder before it’s too late. “Hart! What the heck! How could you just say that to me?”
He dodges my flying hand with a laugh. “What? This is how we’re going to learn comfortability, Hazel. Sometimes, the truth hurts. Take it from me.”
I fold my arms in a playful huff across my chest. He wants honesty? Fine, I’ll be honest.
“Alright, well then, in the name of being honest, Hart ,” I emphasize his name right back. “The last game I watched you in, you totally should’ve scored when you had that chance in the first half. I hate to say it, but you fumbled— big time !”
Hart’s eyes widen, and his face reddens before he bursts into a radiant smile. “Hazel Collins! Now that… He shakes his finger at me. “That was personal. This is a confessional, not a shit-fest!”
“Hey! You attacked my socks! From there on out, it became a shit-fest. You made the rules, Hart. Not me. Remember?”
“Don’t remind me.” Hart’s smirk fades as he playfully rolls his eyes.
“Aw, don’t get offended. Besides, you were right, this is fun. Your turn. Now, don’t be afraid to lay it on thick this time.”
“‘Lay it on thick’?” Hart repeats, his eyes panning up and down my body.
I nod faintly as I cower into the bed, studying his gaze until his eyes lock onto mine.
“Well, then, I guess the only thing left for me to confess to is this. Since our first date at the pottery shop, I can’t seem to get a certain moment out of my head. It’s like I’ve been replaying it over and over in my mind, and fuck, Hazel…”
His sentence may trail off, but that doesn’t stop him from leaning his body in close, only his time, as he speaks, it’s as if I can feel him whispering against my lips. “Do you, uh—remember what I said about being unapologetically you?”
Paralyzed in a peaceful place, I hum.
“Well…” He licks his lips before inching them toward mine. “This is me doing that.”
Before I can so much as take a breath Hart takes mine away as I seemingly lose myself within his lips.
With my hair tangled through his fingertips, my heartbeat electrifies with each passing second.
Hart’s a maze—a complete and total maze with no way out. Everywhere I turn, there’s not an exit in sight and I don’t care. The complexity of it all leaves me enticed, so much so that I keep running. I keep searching—exploring new ways around his lips, his touch, and how he feels pressed against my hot skin.
He’s like an endorphin rush that I can’t get enough of.
“Is this okay?” Hart’s request for verbal consent only makes him that much hotter as he pulls back and assesses my face.
In place of a response, I pull him back into me. My actions speak way louder than my words ever could.
Hart gets the message—quickly, as he gently lays me back onto the bed. When he hovers over top, the weight of his body forces me to become one with the mattress and I almost instantly disappear beneath his.
Jesus—I never knew a kiss could be so intoxicating. Kissing Hart is like taking a shot. As if his lips are alcohol, with each kiss, I grow more entranced, and before I know it, I’m in this lull of my mind where everything hums, everything moves slowly and eventually, I can’t even recall how it all began.
I like forgetting the details. Being with Hart makes me see the big picture of it all, and for once, it feels like that’s enough.
GREEN
“Can you please slow down, Green?” Amira trails in tow, strutting with her heels in her hands as I’m paces ahead. “I agreed to walk back to the dorm with you, not run back! Seriously, I swear I’m getting a blister.”
I slow myself down. I hadn’t realized just how quickly I’d been walking— running .
When Amira insisted that the campus wasn’t too far away, I took her up on the offer to walk. Little did I realize that the speed in which that meant Amira would go—or dare I say, lack thereof.
It’s excruciating.
“Sorry,” I apologize once she catches up with me. “I’m just not used to going slow...” I attempt to mitigate the scowl on her face with a smile, the front of her building coming into view.
Unamused by my charm, she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I gathered that,” she remarks, strutting ahead and disappearing in through the entryway.
As she does, I take a moment to briefly scan the parking lot. It takes me a second to find exactly what I’m searching for, but eventually, I see it.
Hart’s car.
A white exterior with dark rims and a Spanish token that hangs over his rearview mirror. He never did explain to me who gave it to him, but when I tried to dissect it between my grasp, he practically went to thump me one.
Note to self, don’t touch any of Hart’s shit.
They’re here. I know they are.
“Hello?! Are you coming up or not?” Amira impatiently waits by the front door, holding it open for me to step inside.
“I’m coming!” I jog ahead, accepting the door from her grasp and being sure to open the next one for her.
“I can’t believe I just practically ran back here,” she remarks, clicking for the lift. “Cardio is not my thing.”
I flash her a look of remorse. “Sorry again.”
She sighs as the elevator doors open and we pile inside. “It’s a good thing you’re cute…”
The ride up is quiet. The only sound being that of my heart pounding out of my chest. I don’t know why, but as we approach the dorm room, I can’t stop myself from running all the plausible things both Amira and I might walk in on as we step inside.
I find some comfort in the fact that if I know anything about Hazel, then my guess is that she and Hart are probably just talking.
Or watching a movie.
Or maybe she’s showing him her art collection?
There's absolutely no way they’re doing anything.
That’s preposterous.
Ridiculous.
We’re going to walk into a simple scene.
A normal scene.
Not the two of them?—
“ Woah !” Amira’s voice inflates with surprise as she swings open the door, and as I peer in to take a look, the answer to my question becomes instantaneous.
Right in front of my eyes isn’t Hazel and Hart talking, watching a movie, or going through an art collection. It’s the two of them—shirtless. Kissing and completely disregarding the fact that Amira and I are standing right here, watching this all unfold.
If I thought my heart was beating fast before, I was completely mistaken. Now, it’s pounding out of my chest as the world slows—forcing me to feel an ungodly amount of agony with each millisecond that passes by.
Somehow, watching Hazel kiss Hart takes me back to the moment our lips were once one and how, since then, I haven’t stopped thinking about how not only was I her first kiss, but I was also her last.
The thought filled me with an egotistical sense of pride. Yet seeing how Hart towers over top of her, replacing my lips with his own, does things to my mind that I can’t even comprehend.
This needs to stop.
It has to stop.
Make it stop.
“Oi!” I don’t know why I shout out in protest, but I do. “Hazel!” I call out her name, Hart’s shoulders tensing up as I do. “That’s enough!” I don’t let up in the slightest. “Get off of her!” I demand. “Do you hear me, Hart? Get the fuck off of her!”
“Green?!” My outburst is shortly followed by a soft, almost concerning voice.
Hazel.
“What…what are you doing here?” She clutches a blanket against her chest to shield her frame as Hart falls to her side.
I gulp. “What am I doing here?” I ask. “What are you doing here, Hazel? Better yet, what the fuck is going on?!”
I start to lose all sense of rationality as I take in the discarded clothes around the room, falling victim to the thought of just how undressed the two of them really are beneath those sheets—did we just walk in on them having…
“Holy smokes, Green. You need to calm down!” Amira jumps in before I’m led down a darker path than it was already on. “It’s not like we weren’t just doing the same thing. Now, c’mon.” She reaches for my hand to pull me back. I hadn’t realized I’d charged my way into the room. “Let’s give them some privacy.”
“ No .” My mouth moves faster than my mind, compelling Amira to flash me a suspecting glare. I want to inspect it, but I can’t, for as I turn back around, all I can see is that Hart has stood up from the bed and is using his body to shield Hazel away from me.
Nothing hurts more.
“I think you’d be smart to listen to your girlfriend and go, Green,” Hart remarks, his eyes dagger into me. “Don’t make me have to be the one to tell you.”
“You?” I almost laugh as I say the word, too much of a high to back down. “You have no fucking right to tell me what to do. I trusted you to look after her tonight, Hart. Not lure her back into her fucking bedroom!”
“Lure her back to her bedroom?” Hart repeats in utter disbelief. “What the fuck are you on about, Green? Maybe if you were around at some point tonight, then you would know the real reason why we came back here.”
I shake my head in frustration, pressing my tongue into the inside of my cheek. “Oh, I know the reason, Hart. It’s always something with you. Why can’t you just learn to keep your dick in your fucking pants for once? For once! She’s my best friend for fucks sake, you piece of shit!”
“Sure, I’ll do that when you learn to mind your own fucking business! Haze isn’t yours, Green. Get that through your thick skull!”
The mention of her nickname is the butane to my fire, and I completely lose it.
“I’m going to kick your fucking ass?—”
“That’s enough, Daniel!” Hazel shouts my name—my first name—and it brings everything to a stop, a total standstill.
The look on her face is one I can’t even find the right words to describe. Somehow, in the midst of my and Hart’s debate, Hazel has managed to throw on her shirt and place herself in between the two of us.
Her presence forces me to immediately drop my fist and question why it was ever up to swing at Hart, to begin with.
What am I doing?
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hazel scowls at me, pushing against my chest. “No, the better question is, what on Earth do you think you’re doing?!”
“I…” I’m at a loss for words as all eyes fall on me. Her’s, Amira’s, Hart’s—all of them in search of an answer to my outburst that, quite frankly, I don’t think exists.
I have no idea what just came over me, let alone why I just reacted the way I did. All I know right now is one simple truth: I’ve fucked up.
I’ve fucked up big time.
“I think Amira’s right. You need to leave,” Hazel instructs my vacant stare, and hearing those final four words is like a punch to the gut.
“Leave?” I refuse to believe that that's what she just said to me. “Haze…” I call her by her nickname, but it doesn’t soften her in the slightest.
“Don’t ‘Haze’ me right now.” She tightens her upper lip. “Just…” She closes her eyes firmly as her head falls parallel to the ground. “Go, okay?” She’s visibly exhausted as she spews out the words. “You need to go.”
“Hazel, please.” I attempt to step toward her, but Hart stops me. I want to retaliate by pushing him back, but I know better than to escalate this any more than I already have. “I’m not leaving till we talk about this. I’m sorry, just—look at me, Hazel,” I plead. “ Please .”
It takes her a second, but eventually, she looks up at me, and only when she does, I almost don’t recognize her. This foreign look of pain in her eyes, the one that I’m responsible for, is new to me, and it by far becomes the worst crime I’ve ever committed in my life…
“I think you’ve said more than enough tonight, Daniel.” Her voice is stoic as she reaches for Hart’s hand along with a bag across the room. “And if you’re not going to leave, then guess what? We will. C’mon, Hart.” She urges him. “Let’s go.”
Willingly, he nods, slipping his shirt on himself as she leads him out of the room.
“Hazel, wait!” I refuse to let up, trying once more to stop her. “Please. Don’t let the night end like this. We never go to bed without saying goodnight to each other. Never .”
It was a habit the two of us fell into many years ago but now has become the only thing that helps put me to sleep day in and day out.
Hazel stops in place, and for a moment, I’m naive enough to believe what I’ve just said was enough to convince her to stay.
Amira and Hart are no longer in this room with us, in theory that is. It’s just Hazel, myself, and her call on where we go from here.
“Goodnight, Daniel.” She looks me square in the face and whispers before she slips out the door with Hart. “I hope you’re happy.”