26
Hazel
My feet pounded against the sidewalk, each step harder than the last. The rhythm of my breath was shallow, strained, and I could feel the familiar burn in my legs as I pushed myself faster, as though I could outrun the gnawing thoughts in my head. Running had always been my escape—the only thing that made me feel like I had some control over my life. But tonight, it felt different. Tonight, every step felt heavier.
The air was crisp against my skin, a chill that nipped at your bones, but it did nothing to clear the fog in my mind. My thoughts were a tangled mess, swirling around everything I wanted to forget—my body, my life, the way I was always the outsider. The way Campbell looked at me. I could still feel the heat of his gaze, the weight of it on me, and it was making it harder to breathe than it ever had before.
“I can’t stop now,” I muttered to myself, pushing my legs harder, forcing myself to keep going. “I need to keep going. I can’t think about it... about anything .”
But it was no use. The faster I ran, the more the tightness in my chest grew. The burn wasn’t just in my legs anymore. It was deeper. My lungs were screaming, tightening with every shallow breath. I couldn’t keep going. I couldn’t outrun this feeling. I tried to force my mind to focus on the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement, but my body wasn’t listening. I could feel it creeping up on me—the all-too-familiar sensation of not being able to get enough air. The chest-tightening, the desperation. The panic.
My breath came in shallow, uneven bursts now. No. Not now. Not here , I tried to tell myself, but the words barely registered in my brain. My legs felt like they were sinking into the ground, like they weren’t even mine anymore. My heartbeat raced, slamming against my ribs as if trying to break free. I staggered, a small gasp leaving my lips as the world tilted. Stop. Stop now, I thought, but I couldn’t make my body listen.
I staggered again, my hands shaking as I grabbed at my chest, trying to steady myself. My vision blurred at the edges, everything swimming in front of me like a bad dream. Each breath was harder than the last, and the panic flooded my thoughts, drowning out everything else. I needed my inhaler. A tremor ran through me, making even the simplest task impossible. It wasn’t in my jacket. Not in my pockets.
Where is it?
I couldn’t remember. My thoughts were a mess. My vision was narrowing, the edges darkening as my lungs refused to expand. The world was spinning now, my legs too weak to hold me up. I leaned against the nearest building, my back hitting the cold brick wall, and tried to focus on anything other than the suffocating panic crawling through me. My breaths were shallow, strangled. My hands were clutching my chest like that could somehow keep my body from shutting down. And then, through the fog of panic, I heard it—the pounding of footsteps. Heavy, quick, moving in my direction. My brain couldn’t process it at first. I didn’t even know who it was, but I could hear them getting closer. A voice, low and urgent, cut through the haze.
“Hazel, are you okay?”
It was Campbell. Why was he here?
I couldn’t even find the strength to lift my head, couldn’t make my mouth work. The panic surged again, my chest feeling like it might collapse. I tried to say something, anything, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I could barely draw in enough air to speak.
“I... I need my inhaler,” I rasped, my voice shaky. My hands fumbled in the air as if I could somehow show him where it was. “Top drawer... next to my bed...”
I didn’t even know if I’d said it right. The words left my lips, broken. I could feel my chest constricting, the feeling of drowning becoming stronger. My vision was still going dark at the edges. And then I heard his footsteps, swift and sure, moving away from me. He didn’t hesitate.
I couldn’t believe it. Why would he go? Why was he helping me? He didn’t need to care about me. He didn’t owe me anything. Yet he was running to get my inhaler. For me. The panic inside me was a tidal wave, threatening to drown everything in its path. Why was he doing this? Why did he even care? Perhaps he just didn’t want a death on his hands.
I was still gasping for breath when I heard the footsteps return, closer this time. I couldn’t even see him—just the sound of his quick steps, the hurried rustle of fabric as he kneeled in front of me. His hand guided mine, placing the inhaler into my shaking fingers. My breath hitched in surprise. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t.
I pressed the inhaler to my lips, trembling as I tried to steady my hands. I could feel the cool metal against my skin, the relief it promised, but all I felt was embarrassment. Why did he have to see me like this? The air rushed into my lungs with a sweet, burning relief, but even as I breathed, I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I’m pathetic. I’m a mess. I can’t even control my body. When I finally exhaled, the pressure on my chest loosened, but the weight of everything else only seemed to grow. The relief wasn’t enough to wash away the shame that flooded my veins.
“Are you okay now?” His voice was softer this time, and I could hear the concern there.
It made me feel exposed. Vulnerable. And I hated it.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, as if I could lie my way out of the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm me. “I’m fine now, I just...” My voice trailed off, and I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t bear it.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t face him right now. Not after everything. Not after he had seen me at my weakest. “Thanks.” I mumbled, my voice shaky, and I forced myself to take a step back.
But Campbell didn’t move. He was watching me, his gaze softer than I’d ever seen it. And for a second, I wanted to stay. I wanted to let him ask if I was okay. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t. But wanting things had never worked out for me.
“Hazel—”
I turned and fled before I could make a mistake.
I couldn’t breathe. I needed space. I needed to get away. But as I stepped back, I could feel his gaze following me. His voice reached me again, but I didn’t wait for him to finish. I couldn’t deal with this. Not now. Not with him. Not with the way he’d made me feel.
I burst through the door of my dorm, slamming it behind me. I leaned against it, gasping for air—not from the asthma, but from the storm in my chest. What the hell just happened?
I pressed my hands to my face, trying to ground myself, but all I could think was how Campbell looked at me. The way he’d cared. And I hated myself for needing it. But more than that, I hated the way it made me feel exposed. I slid to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees, closing my eyes against the turmoil swirling in my chest.
**
I sat on my bed, my knees drawn up to my chest, trying to hold it together as the tears kept coming. My phone sat on the desk, buzzing softly, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at it. Not after the message from Campbell. I’m not good for you, Hazel. It’s better this way.
The words replayed in my head over and over, like some cruel loop. He’d pushed me away. He didn’t believe in us. He didn’t believe in himself. But I didn’t want to walk away. I didn’t want to give up on something that had just begun to feel so real.
I wiped at my cheeks, trying to stop the tears, but they kept falling, unstoppable. I wanted to believe he was just scared. I wanted to believe that he’d come around, but the ache in my chest made it hard to hold on to that hope. A soft knock on the door broke through my thoughts.
“Hey, Haze, you okay?”
It was Maisie’s voice. I sniffed, blinking to clear my vision. I wasn’t sure I could even speak.
Maisie didn’t wait for an answer. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, wearing her bright yellow hoodie, that familiar confident look on her face. She didn’t ask if I was okay; she just crossed the room and sat beside me on the bed, her arm wrapping around my shoulders in the most natural, comforting way.
“I knew you were upset,” she said gently, her voice so easy, like she’d known this was coming. “But I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up again, even though I wanted to. I just shook my head. “You can’t fix this, Mais. I messed everything up.”
Maisie raised an eyebrow, like she didn’t quite believe me.
“You didn’t mess anything up, Haze. You’re just loving someone who’s too afraid to love back. That’s not your fault.”
I let out a shaky breath, pressing my face onto her shoulder.
“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” I whispered, my voice so small. “Maybe I should just walk away.”
Maisie shook her head, that soft, firm smile still on her face.
“You’re not a quitter. And you don’t deserve to walk away from something that means so much to you.”
I sniffled, my chest tight. Maisie’s words, always so sure, always so steady, made me feel like maybe I wasn’t so alone in this. She wasn’t trying to fix me, she was just there, letting me feel everything I needed to feel without judgment.
“Campbell’s just scared,” Maisie continued. “He’s afraid of loving you, Haze, and I don’t know why. But that’s not on you. You’re not the one he’s afraid of. He’s afraid of letting himself be happy.”
Her words hit me like a wave. It wasn’t about me, not entirely. It was about Campbell, and all the things he hadn’t figured out yet, all the fears he couldn’t face. Maybe that’s why he’d pushed me away, because he couldn’t believe he deserved someone like me.
“I just want him to see me,” I whispered, barely audible. “I want him to see that I’m here. That I’m not going anywhere.”
Maisie squeezed my shoulder gently, her voice soft but certain.
“He will, Haze. Just give him time. And if he doesn’t? Then you walk away with your head held high, because you know you gave everything you had. And that’s enough.”
I exhaled, a shaky breath, and nodded. Maisie’s words were like a lifeline. She didn’t have all the answers, but she made me believe that maybe I didn’t have to have all the answers either. I just had to trust that whatever happened, I could get through it.
“Thanks, Mais.” I whispered, my voice small but full of gratitude.
“Anytime, Haz.” Maisie grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Now, let’s go get ice cream and forget about boys for a while, okay?”
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me, despite everything. It felt like a tiny bit of weight lifted off my shoulders.
“Deal.”
And as I sat there, leaning into my friend’s embrace, I allowed myself to believe for a moment that everything might be okay. That maybe Campbell would find his way back to me. Or maybe, just maybe, I’d find my way forward on my own. Either way, I wasn’t alone.