A/N:
Yall, idk. This song has been stuck in my head for a while.
~~~
Wednesday comes quicker than I thought, and my stupid self suggests my house for tutoring. I guess because she had been to my house before, I felt it wouldn't be weird for her to come here again. But now I'm moving things around like a madwoman, trying to make my house look more appealing and casual, so I don't look like I'm trying too hard.
I think I've rearranged the things on my desk about four times when the doorbell rings. Closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath, I exit my room and walk *calmly* to the door.
I smile when I open the door, but then shorten my smile a bit to avoid looking too eager. She's wearing sweat shorts again, but this time they're cream-colored, and she's also wearing a fitted black long-sleeved top.
Mom peeks her head out from the kitchen island to look at us. "Who's there?"
"This is Hazel. She's my friend from school." I say, using the same words she used when introducing me to her brother Landon.
Hazel gives her a little wave. "Hello, Mrs. Winters."
Mom nods at her. "Nice to meet you, Hazel. Just call me Maria." Then she turns back to her work. Which is fine; she's not usually that eager to meet my friends.
Turning to Hazel, I say, "Wanna go to my room?"
Her cheeks are slightly pink, but not very noticeable, probably from the cold weather.
"We just started the unit. Are there things you already don't understand?" Hazel asks me as I pull up a seat for her next to the desk.
"Yeah," I say, and I scroll through the notes Mr. Cromey posted for this week. We're sitting pretty close to each other, and I ignore how loudly my heart is beating. "How do you do log functions on the calculator?"
She looks at me. "You could have just looked that up."
I'm too nervous to joke around. "Yeah, but you make it easier to understand," I mumble.
Taking my calculator out of my hand, she presses random buttons. As she does this, she shifts and her leg brushes against mine. I suck in a tight breath, trying to control my breathing. It doesn't work.
Hazel faces me, showing me the calculator screen with a completed log function.
"Do you get it?" She asks.
I blink in confusion and grin sheepishly. She frowns and hands the calculator back to me. Her leg moves away from mine, and I exhale quietly.
"Sorry," I say.
"You know what, do it yourself right now. I'll tell you what to do."
"Okay."
She clears the calculator screen, and I follow her directions.
"Oh, that was easy," I say after about ten seconds.
She nods. "That's why you pay attention."
Hazel explains the rest of the unit, but after half an hour, I'm sick of the awkwardness.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" I say as she scrolls through the notes.
"Yeah," she says, still looking at the screen.
As I think about how to ask my question, Hazel raises her eyebrows in curiosity. "What's your question?"
"I was wondering if you were . . . mad at me?" I ask.
Her eyes squint a little. "No, why would I be mad at you?"
She doesn't remember?
"Uh . . . I just thought you'd be angry about Monday." I cough. "When I, um, kissed you. I'm sorry."
She looks away as if she's thinking about how she's going to yell at me.
Then she returns her gaze to the screen, beginning to scroll again. "I'm not mad." She says simply.
Now I'm confused. I thought apologizing would make things not awkward anymore, but she's acting like I just made it worse.
"I really am sorry, Hazel. There were a lot of things happening that day and I was really emotional."
"I'm not mad." She says again.
She still doesn't look at me. I notice her right leg beginning to bounce up and down slightly, and her expression looks harder than before.
"You look a little angry," I say.
"I told you already. I'm not mad at you for kissing me, Casey." She says, her voice stern.
The lack of eye contact she gives confuses me. She furrows her brows slightly and stares at the screen, scrolling mindlessly.
"Oh okay. Great." I say, but the tension isn't gone.
I glance at the screen, confused about why it displays third-quarter material.
"We're not on that unit yet," I say.
"I know." She snaps. "It was an accident."
"Oh."
At five-thirty she leaves, and I spend the rest of the evening confused out of my mind.
~~~
"So, did you talk to her?" Leah asks me at my locker in between classes.
"Yeah. She said she wasn't mad." I say.
Leah smirks and punches me in the arm. "What did I say?"
"Ow," I rub the offended arm. "But I think she's pissed. She already seemed ticked off when I asked, and when I apologized again, she looked angry." I say. "But she insisted she wasn't."
"Then she's mad at you for some other reason," Leah says.
I squint at her. "But I haven't done anything wrong." I protest.
Leah shrugs. "I don't know, man. Maybe you just have to let her talk to you. You kind of suck at communicating."
My eyes narrow. "I do not."
"Yes, you do. The next time you see her, ask her. Then listen."
~~~
The next day I come to school a little earlier than the bell. I spot Hazel waiting outside the door, typing rapidly on her phone, and I walk up to her.
"Good morning," I say, attempting to act how we normally did. Maybe she was just in a mood on Wednesday.
She looks up. "Hi," she says, then she glances back at her phone.
I look at her, annoyed that she's basically ignoring me.
"Hazel," I say.
She looks up again. "Yeah?"
"Did I do something?" I ask, my brows furrowed in confusion.
She glances past me before meeting my eyes again. Tightening her jaw, she says, "No."
I sigh. "Just tell me what I did wrong. I don't want things to be weird between us."
Hazel hesitates. "Things aren't weird."
I narrow my eyes. "Yes, they are, Hazel. Are you . . . disgusted by me or something?"
She scoffs. "Of course not."
"Then what is the problem?"
She stares at me, and I stare back. After a while, she breaks first. Looking away and shaking her head, she says, "I'm sorry. I'm just selfish."
"Selfish? How?" I ask.
"Um . . ." She trails off, and then the bell rings.
I curse under my breath as we enter the classroom.
I'm quiet at lunch; if any of my friends notice, they keep it to themselves.
I find Hazel in the library again after school and corner her in the history section.
"What were you saying?" I ask her.
She looks confused. "What?"
"Earlier today," I say impatiently. "You said you were selfish and I've been wondering what you mean all day."
Resting my forearm on the bookshelf, I wait for her to explain.
"Um . . ." She starts. I've never seen her look so embarrassed. Her cheeks are an unmistakable bright pink, and she can't maintain eye contact for over three seconds.
It's cute.
Anyway...
"I just thought you didn't want to be around me anymore."
I look at her. "What?"
"IâI don't know. . . . On Monday, I thought you were so grossed out by me and that's why you ran away."
I squint my eyes, trying to understand what the fuck she's trying to say. "What are you even talking about?"
If her cheeks were pink before, they're bright red now. "You kissed me, Casey." She mutters.
"Yeah, and I apologized," I say.
She looks away. "Well, if you apologize after doing something like that, people think it was an accident, or that you didn't mean it."
I squint again. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to do all that. I told you, I just got emotionâ"
"Never mind, Casey. Forget I said anything," Hazel says, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair over her shoulder.
I narrow my eyes. "No, Hazel. I'm not doing this back-and-forth stuff." I say, leaning a bit closer to her. "Just tell me why you're being weird."
The color in her cheeks becomes even more prominent, and she hugs her binder tight to her chest. Looking at my stomach instead of my eyes, she says, "I didn't want you to apologize."
I blink. "What?"
She closes her eyes, inhales deeply, then looks at me. But before she can answer, Leah walks up to us.
"Ready to go?" She says. Noticing Hazel, her eyes widen. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No, you're not," I say, sighing. Hazel presses her lips into a thin line and with a flip of her hair, she turns and leaves without even saying goodbye.
Leah watches her, then turns to me, an accusing brow raised. "What did you do?"
"Nothing!" I huff as we leave the library. "I'm sick of these mental gymnastics. She doesn't make any sense."
Leah looks at me blankly before locating her car in the parking lot with her keys. Opening the car door, she heaves a heavy sigh before getting in, shaking her head slowly.
"Casey, Casey, Casey." She says. "You have some serious making-up to do."
"I didn't even do anything!" I protest.
"I can tell she's not one to be pissed for no reason," Leah says simply, shrugging.
The conversation changes to the plans for Leah's birthday, which is coming up in a few weeks. She had reiterated that she wanted to do something bigger than what we did last year, which was a small outing that included me, her, Brandon, and a guy named Jordan, her boyfriend at the time.
"What about a sleepover?" I suggest. "We can invite everyone."
Leah looks up in thought. "That could be fun," she says. "But no boys."
"Of course," I say. After she and Jordan broke up, she declared she was done with boys.
"And I want you to have fun," she adds.
"It's your party."
She shrugs again and hums a response. "Hm."
~~~
The rest of the week is long and repetitive. Hazel and I barely talk, and since I don't have any classes with Leah, I mostly hang out with the guys. I love them, but man, they can be a pain.
"Guess what?" Carson says excitedly. It's lunchtime, but I'm not that hungry.
Sitting across from Carson is Alex, who leans forward with interest. "What?"
"I tried a line on Science Girl," He says.
Alex's eyes widen in delight. "What happened?"
"She smiled a little and gave me a thumbs up," Carson answers with the same level of enthusiasm.
I roll my eyes. "Wow, she's in love with you."
Carson squints at me. "Don't be such a buzzkill."
~~~
I spend my Saturday at Leah's, planning her party. I lie on her bed, and she sits on the vanity chair at her desk, reading off the list of names she'd written down. I recognize most of them as the girls from the team, but there are a few I don't know.
"And Charlotte, because she's fun, and . . . Hazel," she says.
My eyes fly open. "Come again?"
"Charlotte Crawford?" she teases.
I shake my head furiously. Sitting upright, I stare at her. "Why are you inviting Hazel?"
Leah shrugs. "She's cool. It would be rude not to invite her after having fun with the team at your house a few weeks ago. And she could use a break from that rough situation she has to deal with."
"Are you trying to torture me?"
She rolls her eyes. "You're so dramatic. And it's my party."
Maybe she can't even come. She probably has to take care of Landon, anyway.
That Monday, Leah passes out invitations. I follow her around like her bodyguard, and after school, she only has three left. We search for the other two people, finding them with little difficulty. Then she reads the last one, frowning.
"I never know where that girl is," Leah says. "Can you do this one?"
I peek over her shoulder at the name on the invitation, then back away with my hands up. "No can do. You're on your own."
"You're going to have to talk to her eventually," she says, frowning. "Oh, would you look at that? There she is."
I look up and see Hazel approaching us at the end of the hallway with no windows. She hasn't seen us yet, and she's frowning at the phone in her hand. To my horror, Leah raises her arm and waves excitedly. "Hey, girl!"
I duck into the nearest classroom before she looks up. I know, what a coward.
I hear Leah's muffled voice as she explains the party plan. I can't hear Hazel's reaction, only the sound of Leah still flapping her gums.
Leah finally stops talking after some time, and then there's just silence. Craning my neck to hear better, Hazel responds.
"Sure. That sounds fun." She says.
I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand.
A/N:
I'm currently marveling at how bored I must be that I'm this excited about Leah's party.
DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!!
<3