Chapter 8

Note: Thanks for being patient. To compensate, chapter 9 will be up super soon. Like, probably less than a week.

Breathe, I thought to myself as I stood before my closet. He said the party was dressy. Dressy. What kind of dressy? There was the extremely dressy event: the kind where you’d curl your hair and wear a silky or sparkly dress and tall heels. Then there was the middle dressy: where a dress was required, but it wasn’t as fancy as silk. Finally there was the lowest type of dressy. This level of dressy didn’t require the female participants to wear a dress or skirt if they didn’t want to, but nice pants would be acceptable.
I wandered out of the shadow of my closet to ask Chris what he thought. He told me he was just wearing black jeans and a collared shirt, which didn’t help much since that could be accepted for everything but the extreme dressy.
I decided to try to blend the lesser two categories of dressy by wearing a casual dress. I only owned one casual dress. It was a dark plum color, nearly black. The top was cut straight across my chest the way I like it. I loved to be comfortable but feel pretty at the same time. At the waist there was a horizontal sash about six inches wide, accentuating my waist. From there, the skirt cascaded smoothly, eventually falling into a ruffled bottom. The bottom ended right above my knee, feeling just right for the party.
Since tonight was special for both me and Ellis, I tried to look my best. I painted my nails a deep plum, matching my dress, but added a sparkly coat over top to dress it up at little. To dress my outfit down, I wore silver hoops in my ears and left my hair straight and down. To finish it all off, I slipped into black shoes with a tiny heel and called for Chris.
“You look nice,” he commented as we stepped out the door to his car. He was true to his word by wearing exactly what he’d told me earlier.
“Thanks, so do you.”
We stepped into his car, almost permanently colored a dirty red and never kept clean. I shoved away an old soda bottle from my seat and made way for my feet by kicking away a few papers.
“Don’t you ever clean this out?” I asked as I eyed his side of the car. It was no better than mine with papers and CDs crowding the floor beneath his seat.
He shrugged and turned to key in the ignition. A male voice I didn’t recognize resounded from the speakers, wailing something about unrequited love and ivy.
“I don’t have time to clean it out anymore. You’ll see when you’re a senior.”
“I’m busy, too.”
He snorted. “Hazel, you’re barely busy at all. How long has it been since you’ve had a friend over?”
“Ellis was just over.”
“Yeah, for a project.” He left his mouth open for a split second longer like he was about to say something. I knew it was probably going to be hurtful. I turned my head to look out the glass. The sky was perfectly clear, and the sun was making its descent toward the earth, gathering together pinks and oranges on its way.
“Cassie’s my friend.” I wished it was truer than I was making it sound.
“She hasn’t been around in a while. What happened to her?”
“She, uh...I don’t see her that much in school anymore.” “Oh. Well, you should try to make some new friends.”
I thought about the kids I sat with at lunch, and some I shared classes with. I could call them friends, but nothing more. I could barely invite them to my house without an uncomfortable air hanging over us, but to say the least, they were friends.
“Well, I’m going to this party, aren’t I?”
“Good way to start.”
For five minutes longer we stayed quiet until Chris turned into the parking lot. To our left was the restaurant where the party was, a little place I’d never heard of. The sign displaying the name, Doc’s, was lit up in neon pink above the door. Inside I could make out people smiling and holding glasses, and right away I could tell that my outfit would be acceptable.
When we got inside, December Breath was getting up on stage to perform. Of course I spotted Ellis right away. He was seated on a stool like Blondie, no bass in sight. Wearing black pants and a black long-sleeved dress shirt completed with a skinny red tie, he looked absolutely perfect. He had a certain excitement hiding in his eyes, like a child waiting to be given a sweet reward. A microphone was perched in front of him, which he lifted and adjusted as Blondie announced, “Hey everyone, we’re going to perform two songs for you. It’s a nice acoustic set tonight.”
Chris wandered from my side as I half expected him to. I didn’t spot one face I knew, besides the band up on the stage. Some people were sitting around tables, so I followed their example and walked towards an empty one. When I turned back I was too far away from the stage to my liking, and Blondie had shifted in his stool so that I could only see half of Ellis’ body.
“This is a new one,” Blondie said, continuing his speech. “We wrote just a week ago, so it might be a little rough. Hope you like it.” He leaned away from his stand for a second, but added quickly, “Oh, and Damon would like to dedicate this to Marti.”
Damon started a mellow tune on his guitar, and Blondie soon added another part. I was expecting Blondie to start out the lyrics, but instead I recognized Ellis’s voice. As he sang out the melody of the verse, I shifted and smiled in my seat. I’d forgotten how nice his voice sounded. Blondie took over the chorus, and the song unfolded into a dramatic bridge and ended with a quiet finish, coming back full circle.
During the song I looked around the restaurant when I found myself staring at Ellis for too long. I remembered coming here once before, a long time ago with the family. It was bright and cheery, with maple wood flooring and dark green booths.
Blondie leaned into the microphone again. “This next one might be more familiar. It’s on the album, so, uh, here we go.”
I recognized the song from the two shows I’d been at, but didn’t know any of the words yet. It was fast paced and catchy, so before I knew it the song had been finished. The members of the band began their descent down the little black stairs, back to the party. I followed Ellis naturally with my eye, and he elbowed his way through the crowd, every step coming closer to where I was seated. His eyes held the slightest hint of a sparkle as he caught my eye and smiled.
When he was close enough he exclaimed, “You came! Did you like the songs?”
I rose and said, “Of course. I’m planning to buy this CD tonight.”
“I’d hope so. Is Chris here, too?”
“Yeah, but he went off with some friends I guess.”
“Left you here alone?”
I shrugged while still maintaining a smile. “More so left me at the door. I kind of wandered over here.”
“Well, I’ll take you to meet some people.” He gently touched my elbow and guided me into the big crowd. Once we were in the middle of everyone I could see that the collective group was actually separated into small groups of about four or five people each. Some were holding clear plastic cups and slowly sipped their beverages down as they chatted and laughed. I couldn’t help thinking that this party seemed somewhat glamorous, at least compared to the parties I’d been to before. All the variations of dresses and collared shirts created a palette of colors and patterns that swirled before my eyes as Ellis himself steered me to a group of my own to talk and sip bubbly juice with.
He stopped at a group of three people: Blondie, Damon, and a girl I couldn’t name. I knew she wasn’t Jade right away because of her appearance. She had normal brown hair that fell at her shoulders in loose curls. Her eyes resembled rich milk chocolate, and freckles lightly dotted her nose. Her face glowed due to the huge smile still lingering there from laughter of the moment before. Her dress was a light floral print, red and pink flowers on a white background. Damon stood next to her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder, pulling her pretty close to himself.
“Hey guys,” Ellis said as he broke in the circle next to Blondie, and I next to the girl.
“Hey El,” the girl responded, “Who’s this?” She tipped her head my way.
“This is Hazel. She goes to Nova with me and works at that one club we played just before school started.”
“Frisco?” Blondie asked.
“Yeah.”
Blondie stuck out his hand awkwardly in the middle of the circle, so I took it for a second. It felt rough and big compared to mine.
“I remember you! You helped us with the chairs.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
Damon piped up, “Didn’t you come backstage at the arena show?”
“Yeah, with my brother, Chris.
He stuck out his hand, too, and pumped once. His hands were smaller than Blondie’s, and much sweatier. His hair had grown since I’d seen him, but he still wore it in the same spiky way.
The girl turned toward me and exclaimed, “Hey, I’m Marti.”
I smiled. “Hi.”
“I won’t shake your hand, I’ll give you a hug,” she laughed as we embraced. I had to stand on my toes to reach my arms around her neck. She was wearing pink high heels, making her about three and half inches taller than me.
When Marti returned to her spot next to Damon, he didn’t put his arm around her again, but it was obvious he liked her. He stayed close to her and looked as if he was dying to take her hand in his or something, but she didn’t notice. Her eyes were bright like she had just laughed, and she looked into the face of whoever was talking.
“So, um, did we sound okay?” Ellis asked Marti and me. We were the only ones in the circle that didn’t belong to the band.
Marti started before I got a chance to, but it wasn’t like I really wanted to speak my mind. I always loved hearing December Breath, but I was still shy about talking about how much I loved it. It made me think that the band would think of me as one of those crazy girls who are attached to those local boy bands just because they’re attractive musicians who will actually talk to them, unlike the famous ones.
“I thought you sounded great. What’s that new song called?”
“Damon wrote most of it,” Blondie said. “It’s pretty much for you.”
Marti looked at Damon with a huge smile on her face and her eyes still shining. She hugged him with one arm around his side and asked while looking up at him, “What’s it called?”
He looked down at the floor for a second, and then lifted his eyes as he spoke. “Uh, Roses Don’t Compare.”
“It was pretty,” I spoke up before it got to be an awkward conversation about the couple.
“Thanks.”
“So, food, guys. Where’s the food?” Marti asked. I was glad she wasn’t a girl who tried to make people believe she eats four crackers for a meal.
“It’s over there,” Ellis pointed to a table draped in a blue plastic tablecloth. Bowls of chips and plates of cheese and meat were piled among sodas and Styrofoam cups and plates.
“Thanks!” Marti grabbed Damon by the hand and they left the group.
Ellis turned to me. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really. Thanks, though.”
“Me either,” Blondie answered.
“What’s your name again?” I addressed Blondie. I knew I should learn his name before I let my own nickname for him slip out accidently.
“I’m Dave. And you’re…Hazel?”
I nodded.
“Did Ellis invite you here?”
“Yeah.”
He was staring at me pretty intently, almost like I was a big steak and he’d love to cut me up and dip me in some A1 sauce. It was pretty obvious he didn’t know what to say next, but the fact that he kept on trying to make conversation was becoming slightly humorous with a hint of annoyance. I didn’t like him much, if that wasn’t clear before. I wished he had been the one to go to the food instead of Marti and Damon. Marti was the kind of person that has the right balance of kindness and outgoingness that attracts people, so I automatically liked her and wanted her around.
“So, you liked the little concert?”
“Yeah, I always like to hear you guys play. You’re good.”
“Well, thank you. We try, don’t we Ellis?”
Ellis was kind of staring off somewhere behind Dave, looking bored and preoccupied. “Uh, yeah. We always try our best.”
“So, Hazel, do you—“
“Dave,” Ellis cut Blondie off without realizing it, “I’ve told Hazel a little about Jade. Do you think we should introduce her?”
Blondie looked a kind of mad that Ellis had cut him off, but he nodded anyway. We traveled in a little group; Ellis led, and Dave stayed by my side right behind him. There wasn’t enough time for him to start another conversation, thankfully, so I didn’t pay any attention to him. I looked ahead at where Ellis was headed and tried to pick out Jade from the crowd. It was unsuccessful, but once we reached the group she was talking in I knew her right away.
Dressed in a simple strapless red dress with an empire waist and a sweetheart neckline, she stood there neither frowning nor smiling. She had long silky black hair that was slicked back in a tight pony tail, hanging there perfectly straight without any bumps or creases. Her skin was pale, contrasting with her hair. Her eyebrows had a natural arch that made her look serious when she wasn’t smiling.
But her eyes were what caught me off guard the most. They were a bright green with an almost black rim circling around them. She didn’t need much makeup, but it was there: smoky, gray eyes, flawless foundation, and a hint of blush. All in all, she was stunningly gorgeous.
Occasionally sipping her sparkling cider, she stared at whoever was speaking when we walked up. Steve was right beside her, standing close but not touching her.
“Hey guys,” Steve said as we joined the group.
“Hey. Everyone, I’d like you to meet Hazel Tamblyn,” Ellis introduced me.
I glanced at Jade. She was looking at me, like everyone else, and as soon as I met her gaze she smiled. Her smile was mesmerizing like her whole aura, and she actually looked pretty friendly.
I was glad when the conversation turned to something other than me. I usually never like being the center of attention. My mind easily drifted away from the conversation; they were talking about a mutual friend between them that I didn’t know. I thought about how nice this was: standing here beside Ellis and Dave (well the last part wasn’t that great), holding some sparkling juice, and feeling pretty and put together. And then, I realized, I could hear Ellis’ voice whenever I wanted after I bought the December Breath CD. Life was good.
“You think so, right Hazel?” someone addressed me.
“What?” I was instantly jerked from my thoughts.
“Ellis is a real cutie, huh?”
I looked at Ellis. He looked a little red, but he was smiling shyly. I had no idea how to respond to that, especially after being thrown into the conversation so quickly. I didn’t want him to know my direct thoughts about him, but I sure wasn’t going to say he was ugly.
In truth, I thought he was perfect in appearance terms. I loved the dimple on his left check that appeared when he smiled. His eyes were such a stunning shade of blue that I didn’t think I’d ever look at normal blue eyes the same again. I also loved what he wore, particularly tonight. He made me wish that boys would dress nice every day.
“Uh, yeah.” I stole another glance at him. He was looking at me with the same smile as before.
“See guys, you’re a bunch of cuties.”
I was relieved when Chris came to ask me something, because I didn’t want to contribute anymore to that topic. Making Blondie think I thought he was the least bit attractive wasn’t a goal for the night.
“Hazel, you want a CD, right?”
“Yeah, get one.”
“You’re paying half.”
“Fine. Here,” I said as I dug through my bag for some money, “take a ten. But give me back half!”
“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Blondie said, “We should probably go sign some.” He ran up to the stage again and announced that the band would be signing CDs for the next hour.
Inwardly I sighed. The party would probably get to be pretty boring from now on. And I proved to be right, except for part when the band signed our newly bought album. When Ellis signed it he looked me straight in the eye and asked if I was leaving soon. I guess it was pretty late by that time.
“Um, probably. I don’t know. Chris drove, so I don’t really have much of a say.”
He kind of laughed. “Well, thanks for coming. It meant a lot.”
Then the moment was over. It was incredibly small, but it was enough to think about for the whole rest of the night, which consisted of standing around, drinking even more juice, and meeting various new people.
Finally I got Chris to start heading for the door after he finished his third round of food, and we were almost out when Ellis came calling my name.
“Hey, real quick. Do you, uh, want to hang out sometime this week?”
Somehow I answered, though I was pretty speechless at the moment. Later in the car Chris said, “It’s so obvious he’s into you.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Why, would you date him?”
“Maybe.” Maybe I should have told the whole truth then, but if Chris could pick up on Ellis liking me, maybe he knew the real answer to that question.

Chapter 7

Note: About 3/4 of this is the very first time that Hazel and Ellis first came alive on paper. I didn't know their names, or where they lived, or even who they were. I just knew that this was going to be part of a new story that I was going to write. This part is very dear to me because of that. But be warned, this is the beginning of the ultimate cheese. (If you didn't understand that, it means it gets a little romantic from here on out.)

“So how does it work again?” He sighed in frustration. He’d already explained it twice now, but I liked how he told it. I liked to hear his voice when he explained it, though I pretty much understood it all now.
“Explain it just one more time.”
I could tell he was more intrigued by my curiosity than he was angry. His eyes always gave him away. I remembered how his eyes looked when he was mad. They became a cloudy blue, instead of his usual electric blue. And his face became so twisted with the passion of his temper that it made me want to grasp his clenched fists with my small hands and unravel his fingers from their tension. I would smooth the deep creases engraved on his forehead with my fingertips, hoping he would smile at me and…
I shook the stupid romantic thoughts out of my head and looked up at him again.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked.
I smiled slowly. When he looked at me it was simply impossible to lie. I would’ve if his gaze allowed me to, but I involuntarily answered with the truth.
“I was thinking about how you look when you’re angry.”
“Oh. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. Quite a sight, huh?”
I nodded.
“Anyway, shouldn’t you know by now how it works?” “Yes, but what if someone says something and they’re joking? You don’t get a scar then, do you?” The question sounded stupid to my own ears.
“If it doesn’t hurt my feelings, no. There are other exceptions, too. Like if you said you hated me, I’d know you were lying.”
“How?”
He smiled. “Say it.”
“What?”
“Say you hate me.”
“Um…okay?” I paused. “I hate you?” It came out as a question.
He laughed until he was bent over, and when he straightened up he was still chuckling.
“That was pathetic.”
“Thanks.”
“Any more questions?”
I really wanted to ask about his massive scar that started at the hairline of his neck and trailed down into his collar. I wanted to know what words had cut him so deeply that made the scar appear. And, though it was kind of an odd urge, I really wanted to touch it.
“Well, could I ask you something a little personal?” I was surprised at my forwardness. And in response, I could feel heat starting to creep up my neck and settle into my cheeks.
“Of course. What is it?”
“I, uh, kind of was wondering about the scar on the back of your neck.” His face tightened, but his eye color remained the same, so I went on. “I was just curious about who gave it to you. If it’s too painful for you, you don’t have to tell me.”
“No, I should talk about it, really. It’s just…I haven’t told anyone about it for a while.”
“I’m sorry,” I said very quietly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m going to tell you,” he said matter-of-factly. “Just let me think where to start.”
He paused briefly.
“Okay, well, you remember Katie Anderson?”
I did. She was a gorgeous girl with beautiful wavy brown hair and emerald eyes, but she had left in the middle of sophomore year to move to another state. She was always very reserved, never found without her sketch book.
I remembered watching her sketch in class before. She put so much detail and beauty into her drawings that it made me want to give up art forever.
I specifically remembered one day in an exceptionally monotonous class when she was just finishing a drawing of a boy lying in grass, suggesting he was watching the clouds pass by on a sunny day. Half of his face was almost hidden in the grass and dark, and the other half was facing outwards. He had his hands propped behind his head in a carefree way, and somehow the picture managed to come alive. You wished you could be right there beside him feeling the warmth of the radiant sun on your face and hearing the birds call to one another while gazing up at the flawless sky.
“Yes, I remember her. She was the best artist I’ve ever seen.”
“Yes, she had quite a bit of talent. We were very close last year. Sometimes she’d draw me.”
“What happened?”
His eyebrows knit together. “We started getting close in the summer. It was my Mom’s birthday, and she used to draw a lot, like Katie, but she gave it up so she could make more money and support the family. So I wanted to give her a sketch of me because she used to draw me all the time when I was little. I knew Katie could draw well, so I asked her to do it for me. It took hours, but we’d pass the time by talking and getting to know each other better. And when it was done, we went together to get it framed. It got a little late, so I took her out to dinner that night. After that we got together a lot, and all the while she never knew about my…condition. We spent a great summer together, and remained good friends until school started.
“In September we started dating. We went out for at least four months before problems arose. I hated lying to her about part of myself that was so important. And she had never given me a scar before. We disagreed, but we’d never fight. It hurt me too much to hurt her, and I think that feeling was mutual, for a while at least. So one day, the guilt became too much to take, and I told her. Showed her, really. First I rolled up my sleeves, like I did with you, and showed her those scars, but she didn’t believe me. She thought I’d gotten really hurt as a kid or something. So I showed her my chest and back and even named who had given me some of the scars. That was when everything started to fall apart.
“I thought she accepted it, but she hadn’t. She was absolutely horrified and disgusted at my scars. She told her friends how appalling I was and talked about me behind my back for at least two months before I knew. I don’t even know why she didn’t end the relationship sooner. She never said anything about it until…” He trailed off for a second. I noticed his eyes had become cloudy again over his story.
“Until one night, I was sure my feelings for her had to be love. There was nothing else to describe what I felt. I took her out that afternoon on a picnic in this gorgeous meadow and told her. It was too much for her. Obviously, she hadn’t been in love with me and was planning to end the relationship soon anyway. She shouted at me for at least half an hour straight about how disgusting I was and everything wrong I was doing. She said I didn’t know how to go about a relationship at all and a bunch of other nasty things. Then she stormed off, leaving me to cope with my emotions and the bleeding wound on the back of my neck.
“When I went back to school, I tried to brush it off, but you can’t just do that. I didn’t want it to ruin my life, but I couldn’t get away from it. I was reminded of it every time I had to bandage my cut, and it seemed like everywhere I turned someone was talking about it or looking at me funny, especially her friends. They’d always make jokes and gossip about me whenever I was around, just loud enough for me to hear them. And Katie laughed right along with them and even made some of her own comments about how idiotic and repulsive I was on a daily basis. I think that’s what hurt the most, knowing that she had hidden her real feelings from me for months when I was so oblivious to it.
“Did she ever stop?”
“Not really. She would get her friends to leave me immature notes in my locker saying her new boyfriend wanted to meet me and make me feel sorry about what a jerk I had been to her. They left these about every week or so, until the time came when she moved. My wound finally scabbed after months of torture, and eventually became the massive scar it is now.”
Now my eyebrows were mashed together. I was so angry and frustrated with Katie! My throat burned and a tear threatened to slip over onto my cheek. I felt stupid being so emotionally tied to the story.
“I am so sorry. I had no idea.” I swallowed hard to avoid shedding a tear in front of him. “Hey,” he said softly, “don’t cry over me. I’m not worth that much.”
“You didn’t actually believe her, did you?”
“Hazel, I’m a freak. A freak with a lot of scars. Why shouldn’t she have been appalled? I’m disgusting.”
That was the moment I really started to think through how Ellis’s scars would affect my relationship with him. I tried to imagine him without them. He would obviously be different, maybe not even the same humble personality anymore. When he first showed them to me, I hadn’t wanted to leave like Katie. I didn’t even think about Ellis being disgusting, but my human nature to react to what I saw couldn’t be helped. He was still Ellis to me. In a strange sense, the blemishes made Ellis more of himself.
But I didn’t want to tell him what I thought. It was much too embarrassing. Sure, his scars were shocking, but I’d never have the same reaction Katie did. Frankly, I was sure I could push the fact to the side. So what if he had a strange condition that tied his emotional feelings with his physical body? I could still love him.
Inside myself my mind reeled. Had I really just used that word so quickly? I looked at Ellis, sitting there with a little bit of horror in his eyes, a horror that reflected his own grief and misery. His obvious low self esteem made me even more furious, but I tried not to let it show.
“Don’t say that.” That was all I could come up with in response. Another awkward silence followed.
“You must have lost a lot of blood.” I spoke up first.
“Not too much. It bled for a few days, but then it was just raw.”
Then it was all just a story. There had been no car accident. That was just a cover for the scar that Katie had given him. All of the blood, raw skin, and pain had been inflicted by Katie. This realization hit me square in the face.
“Does she know that she gave it to you?”
“Maybe. I tried to wear high collared shirts at first, but I got tired of hiding it. I told people I’d been in an accident, but I guess she knew better,” he said, reaffirming my previous insight. He shrugged. “I’m okay now.”
“Why were you so honest with me? I mean, you didn’t hesitate to show me.”
“Do you want a blunt answer to that?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled. “I promised myself if I had interest in a girl, and she proved to be trustworthy, I’d tell her all this before I started to get to know her well, so that she could run away if she had to without hurting me too much. I guess I expected any girl would be revolted, so I planned on her rejecting me right away.” He smiled lightly. “But you stayed.”
All his words sunk in. He was the least bit interested? This thought alone made me smile. And it sounded like he was grateful that I hadn’t left. That was a good feeling to know.
I pasted the last bit of paper onto the backboard, and together we stared at the finished product. Inwardly I sighed. It was over now.
“I can take you home now, unless you want to stay for dinner and meet my family.” He smiled again, enchanting me. “You’d rather go home, right?”
I wanted to stay so badly. I just needed the right excuse, but all the ones I had made up quickly sounded idiotic. I had to answer on the spot, though, so I just used a stupid one.
“Well, actually, I don’t even know if you have any siblings.” I wasn’t surprised that was the best I could come up with. I’d never been good with excuses.
“I have one. He’s out of high school, though. And if you stay, he might be a little hostile towards you, only because of Katie and everything. He’s afraid another girl might hurt me again.”
“Oh.”
“Still want to stay?”
“I think I’ll take my chances with it.”
“Okay, but I warned you,” he said lightheartedly.
“What’s his name?”
“Aaron. Come on, I’ll let you meet my parents awhile.”
He led me through his house, and I tried to take in every detail I could. I noticed some old pictures set up on the fireplace mantel, particularly one of Ellis as a chubby toddler. His dark hair was in a bowl cut and he wore a blue striped jumper. There was another of Ellis and another boy, only a few years older. That must have been Aaron.
I didn’t know what to expect of Ellis’s other brother, and more importantly, I didn’t know how to deal with him if he acted intimidating. The only thing I knew to do was try to act nice and good-hearted, especially towards Ellis.
“Hey, Mom,” Ellis called as we entered the kitchen. It smelled strongly of garlic bread and butter.
“Oh, hi El.” She turned and was taken aback when she saw me. “Who is this?” she said, smiling.
She was like the perfect picture of a homey mother. She was short and small in stature. Her brown hair reached a little past her shoulders. Laugh lines were imprinted in her slightly aged face as she smiled. She wore a floral dress with a pink apron neatly tied around her waist, accentuating her figure. A glass dish overflowing with homemade lasagna lay at her oven-mitted fingertips. Even her voice was inviting.
“This is my friend Hazel.”
“Oh!” She turned to Ellis, and whispered, “Is this the one you told?”
Ellis nodded swiftly. I could feel myself start to blush.
She shifted over to me again. “Welcome, dear! I was just getting dinner on the table. Ellis, would you mind setting the table please?”
He smiled at me and rolled his eyes. “Okay.”
Meanwhile a tall dark man with gray hair and a receding hairline came into the room. I assumed this was Ellis’s father. He was dressed in standard business attire, a collared white shirt and beige dress pants with brown shoes poking out from underneath. I noticed he had Ellis’s exact smile, perfect teeth and all.
“And who is this charming young lady?” he addressed me with a booming voice.
“Uh, I’m Hazel, a friend of Ellis.”
“Are you from school?”
I nodded.
“Well, nice to have you. Dinner looks delicious, dear.” He seated himself at the table.
“Ellis, would you call Aaron please?” Mrs. Lennon asked as she whisked the lasagna from the oven top to the table, which Ellis had just finished setting.
I laughed to myself about how cliché his family was. It was like the picture perfect, Leave It To Beaver family. The only abnormal thing about them was Ellis’s cuts.
“Aaron! Dinner!” Ellis shouted.
“Okay!” A voice I’d never heard before bellowed back. Immediately I heard footsteps on the stairs. Just as I seated myself, he walked in. He looked more like his father than Ellis did. Though he shared the same dark straight hair, he wore it short like Mr. Lennon. He looked big boned, with arm muscles big enough to stretch the sleeves of his plain white t-shirt. I approximated his height at about six feet, easily towering over me by at least five inches.
Ellis took a seat beside me, and Aaron beside him. Mrs. Lennon sat to the right of me, and Mr. Lennon was across from me, filling the small circular table completely.
“Aaron, this is Hazel. Hazel, Aaron,” Ellis introduced us.
He didn’t look up or smile, though I suspected he had inherited Mr. Lennon’s great white teeth and grin also. He merely mumbled, “Hey.” The word hung there in the air with silence surrounding it until Mrs. Lennon offered to scoop my lasagna for me. I refused, of course, but she said the very least she could do was pour my water, so I allowed her to do that.
The homey atmosphere made me comfortable, except for the awkwardness between Aaron and me. It seemed like he already knew that I knew about Ellis’s scars. Maybe he was just being careful, but I felt like I was being judged too quickly.
The food was every bit as good as it looked, even though lasagna was never my favorite meal. Mrs. Lennon had added something extra that my mother had never thought of, and it changed the taste considerably.
“So, Hazel, I hear you know about Ellis’s little situation.” Mrs. Lennon said this casually, as though she talked to all her guests about the quirk.
Aaron’s head snapped up immediately. His expression was of worry and a little bit of anger. I knew I had to be careful of what I said about the controversial subject, or else I would experience Aaron at an extreme.
“Yeah, he told me,” I said slowly.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Mr. Lennon bellowed, echoing Mrs. Lennon’s laid-back tone in a slightly humorous way.
I nodded as I took a bite of garlic bread.
“Did you tell her about Katie?” Aaron asked in a low voice.
“Aaron!” Mrs. Lennon scolded.
“Yes,” Ellis snapped back, “I told her.”
“Just checking.” He went back to eating quietly, though I was well aware of his listening ear evaluating everything I said.
Mrs. Lennon put a rich chocolate cake on the table for dessert, obviously homemade. It was almost unreal how good it tasted. It basically melted in your mouth. Her family was very lucky to have her as their chef.
After the meal ended, I didn’t want to leave the comfortable ambiance. Though I was looking forward to the twenty minute ride home utterly alone with Ellis, I felt a tenderness here that couldn’t very well be described, at least in everyone but Aaron. It was a very welcoming feeling, something you didn’t want to walk away from soon. Inspired by these warm thoughts, I thanked them for having me and the wonderful meal.
“Well, thank you for coming. It was nice to meet you,” Mrs. Lennon said kindly.
“Here’s your coat.” Ellis stood behind me with my winter coat.
“Oh, thanks.” I gently took the coat from him and shrugged into it.
“I’ll be back soon, Mom,” Ellis called as he bounced his keys in his palm.
“Oh dear, could you pick up some milk on the way back? We’re almost out.”
I grinned.
“Yeah.” He turned to me. “My car is out front.”
I followed him out the front door and gingerly stepped into his old green-blue Ford. It felt strange sitting next to him here, almost like a date. As silence crept over us like a cloud, it felt even more peculiar. Our personal discussion in his basement seemed a world away when we were submersed in the quietness.
“How’d you like them?” Ellis lifted the silence.
“Your Mom is really sweet, and her food was amazing. Your Dad is nice, too.”
“And Aaron?”
“Um, he seems okay. He seems protective, like you said.”
“I think he’ll lighten up eventually. He’s just worried about me. He seems like a mother, don’t you think?”
“A little.”
“So, what do you think about coming to our demo release party?”
“It’d be fun.” I tried not to let him know how much I wanted to go.
“It’s next Friday at a little restaurant we rented for the night.”
“Is it just going to be family and friends?”
“Anyone, really. We probably won’t play too much, maybe a song or two, but it’ll be a lot of fun. There’ll be some free food and stuff.”
I laughed. “Oh, that’s just what I wanted to hear. Now I have to come.”
His mouth twitched upwards as we rounded a corner onto a quiet street, lit with street lights. “I’m almost afraid Jade might pull something.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “Anything she could think of. She’s weird like that.”
“How did Steve meet her?”
“I don’t even know. I don’t talk to him about her much. It gets a little awkward. Sometimes she comes to our practices and acts fake nice. Or sometimes she mentions my scars and how I should do something about them.”
“Didn’t you hide them from her?”
He laughed. “I wish. You see, it was the first time we were gonna meet her, at a practice. I feel so comfortable rolling my sleeves up around my band mates that none of us thought about my arms showing, so we forgot. She came in with Steve, and within the first few minutes she said something about them. We told her that I’d been in a car wreck, but there was a raw cut and a healing scab also on my arm, so she asked about those. I forget what we told her about them, but she knew it wasn’t the truth. After a few times of whining to Steve about him lying to her, he broke down and told her.”
“What did you do?”
“Let’s just say I wasn’t the happiest guy then.”
I was beginning to get a new perspective about the drummer who looked a little intimidating. He sounded like he was a pretty big wimp.
“Oh.” I said. The response sounded weak to my own ears, but I virtually had no idea what else to say.
“Back then I wanted to kick him out of the band, but Dave and Damon helped me see that if I did that, there would just be loose information about me floating around. Plus, when we hired a new drummer, we’d eventually be forced to explain about me. So from then on, we’ve all been hoping that someway Steve would see the light and break up with her, or vice versa.
“Aren’t you ever scared that if they break up, she’ll tell someone about you?”
He nodded, and said in a quiet, scared voice, “All the time. But I know it’d be better for everyone if she were gone. I’ve thought, maybe, if we could get her far enough away from Steve, and she told somebody, they’d think she was completely crazy.”
“That’s more than likely what would happen.”
“I’m glad you think so. The band thought so, too. Well, at least Dave and Damon. I haven’t discussed this with Steve. He’d probably get pretty mad.”
Ellis turned his head slightly and a ray of moonlight his face just perfectly. I could see his eyes looking sadly to the road, and the small dots of stubble beginning to build a five o’ clock shadow. He always looked very sullen when he talked about his scars, which made sense. The only thing that was associated with them was pain.
I turned away. Thoughts about Ellis’s looks and actions were beginning to resemble what Cassie gushed about when she liked a guy. I’d already established the fact that a crush was there, but these thoughts always caught me off guard, especially when he was sitting right beside me. Sometimes I’d force my own mind to shy away from them because I felt like somehow he could hear them echo through my head.
“Do you ever want to be normal?” I realized a second too late what this question actually sounded like in open air.
His shoulders shook with quiet laughter, no sound escaping his closed lips. “No, Hazel, I’ve ever wanted to enjoy the freedom of wearing shorter sleeves in public,” he said, obviously sarcastic.
“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question.”
“It’s okay. I could probably ask a lot of dumb questions about being normal.”
We were stopped at a red light now, about five minutes away from my home. As Ellis gazed at the light anticipating a color change, I stole a glance at him again. I noticed the way his fingers curled loosely around the fabric steering wheel. His index finger tapped the wheel once, then suddenly his knuckles tightened around it and we were moving once again.
I straightened my gaze ahead, but the rushing palm trees and pavement bored me. I was so used to the view that when I saw the frequent tourists snap photos of nature, I silently wondered what it looked like to them. It was hard to imagine living in a place where no palm trees grew, and where you had to travel a few hours to get the smell of the ocean. I’d been to places where sun tan lotion and swim suits were tucked away for months on end, but I’d always been back to my Florida soon after. I imagined I’d live here the rest of my life, if I could help it.
As was getting more frequent now, my thoughts turned to Ellis. What if someday we got married and he wanted to live in a place where it snowed in the winter months? It was a stupid thought, because I knew if we were married I’d go anywhere where he was, but stupid thoughts were becoming much more common.
Much too soon we were turning into my driveway pavement, and it was time for me to get out of the car. I pushed against the door unwillingly, and with my hand on the interior of it I said, “Thanks for the ride.”
Ellis turned to face me. “No problem. Let me know about the party.”
“Okay, I will.” I slammed the door, now that I was standing on the outside of it, thankful I could manage to do that on time instead of linger there staring at his face.
I opened the door with a key I kept in my purse, and found Chris in the kitchen. The scene was oddly familiar, me coming home with thoughts of Ellis in my head, and Chris snacking on something.
We talked shortly about both of our nights, and I mentioned the party. He seemed enthused that we were invited, and reminded me again of my good deed of letting him borrow my car.
I escaped to bed soon afterwards, but didn’t go to sleep without thinking of Ellis first.

Chapter 6

Note: I'm really, really sorry I couldn't get this up sooner. But this is the longest chapter yet, and the next is truely almost done. Enjoy!

For two hours I laid on the floor listening to Chris and his friends having their party and thinking. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to be, but that’s where I had written the letter to Cassie, so that’s where I stayed. Naturally, my mind didn’t drift from Ellis all night long. I thought about everything, replaying the whole thing in my mind hundreds of times and keeping the mental picture of his scars in my head.
I still felt exactly how I felt in his basement, the two passions, one sweet and the other sickening. There was no turning back about that now. I didn’t want to treat him differently now that I knew. I vowed that I’d act as normal as possible when I saw him tomorrow.
Slowly, my mind worked through the shock. Yes, Ellis had a bunch of scars, but I couldn’t let it affect me. That’s what he was afraid of, someone running away from him because of them. I still cared about him, but I just had to get adjusted to this. After a while, I seemed to have accepted it. I could think about the day without cringing, and I was confident that I could learn to look at his scars without caring at all.
Instead of focusing on the negative times, like when I had almost thrown up at his house, I tried to think of the positive, like how his face looked when he was talking about it. His expression was so full of passion, intensity, and even a little bit of trauma. I thought about when he said I was pale. The words were so caring, and just the fact that they came from his lips made it even better. And then there was him in the tank top…
I shut my mind down there, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. Talking about a guy with Cassie was one thing, but letting my mind wander by myself seemed like a risk. I had never let myself do that before.
Very slowly I crept up into a sitting position. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to somewhat tame the mess of knots. I was hungry now. It was only six o’clock, so I hopefully appeared in the kitchen looking to see if there was any leftover pizza. There was a slice of plain cheese, so I took it, secretly not caring if the boys wanted it or not. The liter of soda I’d picked up for them was drained, and it sat empty on the counter waiting to be taken out to the recycling.
For lack of nothing better to do, I ran out and placed in the recycling bin. I lingered in the warm garage, not fully wanting to go back inside. It smelled strongly of cars and gasoline, yet there was a hint of outside air. I wanted to breathe that in right now.
Back in the house, I slipped on a pair of old jean shorts and changed from my school shirt to a t-shirt. Sliding into a beat up pair of navy flip-flops to complete my outfit, I stepped out onto my plain concrete porch.
This porch had served me for many years, no matter what kind of mood I was in or where my life was at. One of my favorite pastimes of spring was to come out on the porch and drag along a lawn chair, some lemonade or a coke, and a book. I’d spend hours just reading in the warm weather, just before it turned too humid to be outside for too long. But now it was just below seventy degrees and clear, perfect for being outside.
The sun was almost done setting, but the big red ball was behind the house, so I only saw the magnificent pink and orange clouds it produced. They stretched from one side of the sky to the other, creating a perfect Florida sunset.
I sighed and stooped to sit on the porch step. Sunsets were lonely if you didn’t have someone to watch them with. I gazed out to the horizon, where far away palm trees stood tall. Their lanky trunks and wild arrays of leaves were beginning to darken against the sky. I secretly wished something would happen, or that someone would sit beside me on the porch. We wouldn’t even have to talk, it would be enough that they were there. I knew who I was picturing specifically, but I tried hard not to think about that. For some reason, I always felt guilty when I started to think of us spending time together.
I would’ve accepted Cassie at that moment, also. It was obvious she was slipping away, if not already gone. I questioned if our friendship had been true. If it had been, wouldn’t we still keep in touch?
I remembered the last couple of years. There had been a climax in our relationship, a sweet time when we equally trusted each other and we weren’t afraid to talk about deep subjects. But the past two years, something unexplainable happened, and we didn’t talk as serious as we once did. We always just had fun no matter what. If one of us was down, the other would try to avoid the subject and just try to make her happy again. The trustworthiness took a little while to wear down, but now I remembered. I remembered all the secrets I’d been scared to tell even Cassie, and all the times when I’d pushed back my own feelings of unhappiness and forced a smile on my face so that I wouldn’t have to tell her what was wrong.
And then the next year we only shared lunchtime, and there were always a lot of other people there, so we couldn’t talk about serious things even if we wanted to. The phone calls started becoming less and less, and when we did talk I would notice we were always talking and telling stories about other people. We didn’t do much together because our schedules usually clashed, and Cassie had Ryan to think about, too.
So, finally, our friendship deteriorated almost completely. Unfortunately, I didn’t even want to try to invite her to anything anymore. I knew what the answer would be. She’d be doing something with another friend or Ryan, or have too much homework, or would be working. All of those excuses were credible, and that’s what scared me. She was too busy for me. Somewhere along the past few months, we’d worked each other completely out of our lives.
By now my hand had felt its way up to its place on my cheek. It was almost dark, now, but I was beginning to depress myself. I knew depressed people didn’t like to do much, and that’s how I felt now. Though I didn’t have unexplained physical pain or random crying episodes, I wondered if I could really be depressed. Probably not.
I pushed myself up off the stoop. It was getting too lonely now. I could hear the crickets starting to chirp, and I felt the night air settling down.
Inside the house, Chris was still having a good time with his friends. They were laughing hysterically, most likely about something idiotic or bizarre. I wondered if he had ever gotten depressed, or half-depressed, whatever I was. Maybe, but I doubted it. Chris always had a lot of friends, both guys and girls, and he liked to be around them. He was usually gone four or five nights of the week, especially on days when my Mom didn’t make him stay for dinner, with was very rare. He didn’t like to go to parties but would rather hang out with one or two people at a time. He loved eating out, bowling, and sports games. I, on the other hand, would much rather skip the bowling shoes that never fit quite right or the big crowds that showed up at games. A night spent drinking hot tea and reading was just perfect for me.
In fact, hot tea sounded like a great idea right now. My favorite kind was chamomile, followed by raspberry, and then mint. I always kept up a good stock of those three so I’d never run out completely. Tonight I reached for chamomile, finding it to be the disappointing last bag. That was one more thing to be depressed about. Maybe I had only been a quarter depressed, and was now working my way up to half.
When my tea was finished soaking in the hot water, I deposited the used bag into the trash and sat down at the kitchen table. After the first sip I realized I’d forgotten the sugar. I added that in, and sat down, exhausted from being so lackluster.
I drained the cup within two minutes, and felt a little more energized. Then suddenly I remembered I had promised Ellis that I’d finish cutting up the papers for our project. That was easy to finish, but I didn’t feel like stopping there. I needed something to do. My only real options were either read a book I’d already read twice over, watch TV, go to bed really early, or pick up a backboard. I carefully thought over my options and favored the last. It would feel good to get out of the house for a little.
I called to my Mom to tell her where I was going, and began the drive to the nearest Wal-Mart. It was completely dark out now and drizzling a little. Sadly I realized the weather fit my mood well.
The fluorescent lights of the Wal-Mart did not match my mood, however. I wished they would dim them down just this once, but of course they stayed on, shining brightly. This was beginning to be an irritating trip. In addition to the annoying lights, seeing all the other customers just reminded me of how alone I was. I saw a few couples laughing or holding hands or a mother walking with a child, or two teenagers walking side by side. The only people I saw alone was an older man with car grease smeared on his clothes, a woman looking hopefully in the cheap romance novel section, and the cashiers. Normally there were more people walking alone than in couples or groups, but tonight it was like the whole Wal-Mart knew about my loneliness and were taunting me with their togetherness.
I checked out as fast as I could and reached my car. It was dark now, and the sunset was gone. I didn’t want to drive home right away. If I was there, I’d probably just resort back to my shock.
I placed my hands on the steering wheel but didn’t twist the key to start the car. The parking lot outside was silent and eerily lit with tall bright lights. I had parked somewhat far away from the doors, so the closest car was parked about seven spaces away.
I thought back to the very first time I’d acknowledged Ellis. It was that fateful day at Frisco, just back in August, two short months ago. Again that strange harmony was brought back to my mind. I remembered his face when he sang it. I remembered his hands, curved around his bass, his veins jutting out as he plucked out the bass line. Lastly, I remembered the heat in the room, the sweat on his shirt, and the confusion of his sleeve length.
I closed my eyes and dropped my hands from the steering wheel. Where could I go to get away from myself? Was this the feeling an alcoholic felt before downing three drinks, trying to ease mind away from body? The word depression hit me again. Somehow, I hoped that was impossible. But as the loneliness set in for the hundredth time, I knew if I kept thinking this way I’d probably become depressed.
I turned the key in the ignition. I was ready to face this now. Running away from my problems may feel the best, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. I forced to ask myself questions I’d been wanting to answer, but was too scared to even voice in my head.
First, who could I talk to about this? It was obvious I needed to talk about it. Ellis couldn’t seriously expect me to just bear this secret without ever discussing it again. So far the only one I knew I could talk to was Ellis himself, which easily coincided with the second question.
When would I talk to him again? At once I realized I could open the opportunity for myself by not fully putting the backboard together. I smiled to myself. It took two seconds to start the car and ease it forward. With the bright parking lot behind me, and the palm trees of Florida meeting my eye, I felt like Hazel again.
The next morning, I drove up to the school parking lot, and upon seeing Ellis’s car in it, I smiled. I didn’t know if I’d confront him at all today, but I was hoping he’d at least say hi. If we did talk, I didn’t know if it would be awkward or not. We could try, at the least. Then I remembered that we had more work to do anyway, so we’d probably talk in English class.
As I opened my trunk to get out the backboard, I heard Ellis uttering something incomprehensible into his cell phone. He was pacing back and forth in front of his car that was parked four spaces away from mine, looking very angry. I debated whether I should go over to show him the backboard. I wanted to see why he was upset, so I decided to use it as an excuse.
When I was half way over, he slammed his phone shut and kicked the frame of his car. It surprised me. I’d never seen him angry before. His fists clenched below his waist, and deep creases covered his forehead. He placed his elbows on the top of his car and held his head in his hands.
“Um, Hi,” I said in a very small voice. “I got a backboard.”
He looked up. “Oh, um…good.”
I paused. “Are-Are you okay?” I stuttered.
He let out a deep breath. “Not really.”
I worked up my courage to ask my next question. “What’s wrong?”
He opened up his car door faster than he should have and brought out his backpack. “It’s just that stupid girl again.”
Oh, his girlfriend.
He tucked his backpack behind his shoulder and slammed the door. “Bring the poster thing to English, okay?” He said as he walked to the building, not intending for me to walk beside him.
“Yeah, okay.” The emotion he left me with was kind of bittersweet. Bitter because I’d kind of gotten rejected in a sense, but a little sweet because he’d called that girl stupid. I shook my head at myself. I was such a selfish, egotistical person. The combination left a strange feeling in my throat, kind of like it ached, but not like it did before I was going to cry. Slowly, I walked into the building. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now, not even Cassie.
I obviously wasn’t having the best day, but History class made it worse. The teacher misplaced his favorite marker, but he said he thought a student must have stolen it. He complained the whole period because he had to use a yellow one, which wasn’t good for writing notes. I couldn’t see the words, so I didn’t take notes.
I was dreading study hall for a few reasons, one of them being that I didn’t have anything to do. I didn’t want to see Ellis, either. I felt ridiculous for asking him too many questions, and a little bit angry for being cast off by him.
When study hall came around, I walked into the room quietly, not wishing to be noticed by anyone. I just wanted to be left alone, even by Ellis. I took my usual desk, and eyed a pile of books on the desk beside mine. I shoved my own binder and books to the edge of my desk. I intended to create a makeshift wall between the pile of books and me so when the person came to claim his seat he wouldn’t bother me.
I dove into an assignment, tuning out all the other chatter and movement. However, I was fully aware when a form appeared beside me, sitting down at the desk with the books. I didn’t have to look to know who it was. He shuffled through the pile, letting me know that they were really his books and he hadn’t just sat down to talk to me. As hard as I tried to continue working on my assignment like he wasn’t there, I found myself slowly losing control of my thoughts, allowing my focus to shift.
I gave into my thoughts within a matter of moments. Instantly they began branching off into all sorts of different directions. One part debated whether I’d like it if he talked to me. That branched off into how he would start the conversation, whether it was by passing a note or by steadily gaining the courage to ask me a question. The daydream continued into what the conversation would be about. Perhaps he’d apologize about blowing me off this morning, or maybe he had just come for homework help.
Another part thought about what I should do now, in this very moment. It concentrated on my breathing, trying to keep it steady and quiet, as natural as possible. It slowed my fingers, for they were nervous and wanted to flutter around my papers and books. It forced me to look consistently at my paper, instead of stealing glances to my side.
And an entirely different side of me wanted to shut down completely, to return to my feelings of numbness I’d felt back at the Wal-Mart parking lot. I imagined myself slamming my head down on the pile of books in front of my, papers flying in all directions as my sudden movement cause a whirlwind of air. Then Ellis would be looking over at me like I was crazy, which I’d have to be in order to do something like that.
“Hey, Hazel?”
I jerked my head up. Had I heard right? I turned and looked at Ellis. He caught me off guard, how terribly irresistible he looked. He was sitting sideways in his seat, leaning down so his elbows rested on his knees. His head was tilted up towards me, and his eyes were so close to mine I could see the specific specks of blue in each.
“Yeah?” I said softly. The event by his car this morning flashed quickly through my mind. He must think I was crazy.
“Are we working together tonight?” He cracked his knuckles nervously, but his face didn’t change.
“Yeah, I guess we’d better. It’s due tomorrow.”
“Okay. You can come over right after school this time.”
“Sounds good. Did you finish your report?”
He nodded. “After you left last night.”
I pushed my lips together slightly. I wondered how that had looked like to him. Did he think I was scared of him?
He looked to the sides of him and leaned forward slightly. The part of me that was focusing on controlling my breath became more aware of making it seem natural.
He was still looking at me intently. In a quieter voice than before he said “Are you okay? About last night, I mean.”
“What do you mean?” I thought I had a pretty good idea of what he meant, but I wanted to be sure.
“Do you think I’m a freak?” He said it seriously, and the words didn’t match with his tone. I laughed very softly. I tried to avoid that question. If by ‘freak’ he meant different than the rest of us, then he was, though it sounded harsh to say about him.
“I’m not scared of you.”
He shot up from his bent over position. In a louder voice he said, “So, after school today, right?”
I nodded. Either he was shaken by my response, or he thought someone was listening. I hoped the latter.
After the quiet exchange, I went back to my worksheet. It was just as hard to concentrate, especially after his abrupt end to the conversation. It seemed forever until the bell dismissed us from the class.
As I was walking out the door Ellis handed me a folded slip of paper and announced, “Here’s my address.”
I was confused, but I took it without saying anything. He knew I knew where his house was. Once I got a chance to open it, it read:
Sorry I had to end our conversation, but I think someone was listening.
I want to tell you more about why I was upset.
I smiled and tucked it away in my pocket.
At lunch time, Chris came running up to my table. He wasn’t in my lunch period, so I wasn’t sure why he was there. As soon as he got to me he asked in a rush, “Can I borrow your car this afternoon?”
“Uh, no. What happened to yours?”
“My battery died, and my friend can’t jump it until tomorrow morning. I promised I’d go somewhere with Carter today, and it’s kind of important.”
“Well, I have a project I have to work on with someone.”
“Please, Hazel?” He was desperate, I could see that. I thought over the situation. I’d have to ask for a ride from Ellis, which wouldn’t be so bad. And if he didn’t want to take me, I’d just finish the project at home.
I sighed. “Okay, I’ll lend it to you.”
His face melted in appreciation. “Thank you so much.”
I handed over the keys, and he thanked me again and ran out. My friends slowly went back to their conversation and food, while I continued to stare at the side of Ellis’s face. I was usually bored with the lunch table conversation, so my pastime was exactly what I was doing now. It was the perfect set up, too. I could study his face without him knowing, and no one at his table paid any attention to ours. I was kind of dreading asking him for a ride, but there was a certain thrill within it that led me to believe I could do it.
I made sure I went up to him before English class started. He was seated by himself, thankfully, kind of staring at random places on his desk. I went to the front of his desk so I was facing him and stood there awkwardly.
“Um, I kind of have bad news. Chris really needed my car tonight because his battery died, so I gave it to him for tonight, which means I don’t have a ride to your house.”
“Oh, that’s fine, I can just take you from here. Would that work?”
“Yeah, that’d be good. You’d have to take me home, too.”
“Sure. Did you bring the poster?”
We worked on our project in class, but didn’t get very much done. The period was just too short. We didn’t talk very much, probably because of the subject we would talk about if we were alone.
I knew I was looking forward to the afternoon because of how slowly the last classes of the day went by. When the final bell rang, I scrambled to collect my books and shove them in my bag. I met Ellis at his locker where he directed me to in English. He was steadily filling his own bag with books and binders.
“Hey,” he greeted me.
“Hi.”
I hated awkward silences, but sometimes they were inevitable. When he slung his backpack on his shoulder, we started walking towards the door. I was beginning to think his whole afternoon would be awkward.
His car was a small blue green color. He kept it clean for the most part, except for a few papers and a water bottle lying on the floor.
Once we were settled and driving out to the main road he asked, “So are you okay with this?”
I wasn’t sure what he meant at all. “With what?”
“Being around me after last night.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Is that weird?”
“A little. I expected you to leave me alone.”
“Do you want me to?” I thought of this morning’s incident. It seemed like he had then.
“No, not at all. It’s just that when you left last night, you looked sick. In more ways than just physically.”
“I-I was shocked.” Right now I was relieved he kept his eyes on the road in front of him and we didn’t have to look at each other. “I’m okay now, though.”
“Okay.”
“Do you think you could explain it one more time? Just so I understand.”
“Sure. In its very basic explanation it’s this: Every time someone hurts my feelings, intentionally or not, I get a cut. The size and deepness of it depends on how much I’m hurt emotionally. And for me it doesn’t have to be very deep to scar, so just about every cut I’ve gotten is visible.”
“Oh. I get it now.”
He turned his head for a second to look for oncoming cars before making a turn, and I caught a glimpse of the scar on the back of his neck. It had white edges and pink skin in the middle. The part I could see was about two and a half inches long, but it led into his shirt, so it was probably longer.
I recognized his street when we turned onto it, and soon enough we were parked in the driveway. He carried the backboard in and led me again to his basement. When I first took in the room, I remembered how suffocated I had felt last night. The feelings didn’t return, but I simply remembered them.
We were silent the first few minutes of working, but I knew that Ellis would bring up the subject of his note to me. I found that I was right within the next few minutes.
“Did you get my note?”
“Yeah.”
“And you remember how I was upset this morning?” How could I forget, I thought to myself. I nodded, looking up at him. He returned my gaze.
“There are certain people that if they knew about me, my scars, they would be very dangerous to me and my family. Unfortunately, there is a girl, the one that I told you about, that is getting to be dangerous. I don’t know if you remember, but this morning I was on the phone.” I nodded again. “I remember.”
“I’d just gotten some bad news about her concerning me. Her name is Jade, by the way.”
“And she’s dangerous?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “She wasn’t supposed to find out about my, uh, condition. I guess you’d call it that. But she did, and now she’s threatening to spill my secret to a doctor or a specialist. She doesn’t even see me as human. I’m more like a strange animal to her. She’s convinced I need to get help.
“What she doesn’t understand is that once I check with a family doctor, they won’t know what’s wrong with me. They’ll send me to another doctor, and he’ll send me to another. I’ll eventually get thrown out into the media, and by then everyone will know about it. I won’t be able to really live anymore. It’s just not worth all that when I’ve got it mostly under control.”
I couldn’t understand why he would date a girl that would force him into something like this. It didn’t seem like him at all. I could tell he wasn’t one to take orders pertaining to his scars, and I didn’t blame him a bit.
“Oh,” I spoke quietly. “So what did you hear this morning?”
“Her threats are getting more serious. She wants to talk to someone sometime this week about it.” He sighed again, but time his whole semblance seemed defeated. “I’m not sure how to stop her.”
“So, um, why exactly are you dating this girl?” He cracked a smile, and then started laughing. “Dating her?! Where in the world did you get that? I can’t stand her!”
A wave of sweet reality and realization hit me. Not to say he didn’t have a girlfriend, but this wasn’t the girl at all. I laughed with him.
“I don’t know where that came from. I assumed it somehow, but I don’t know why.”
He stopped laughing, but a giddy smile played on his lips. “No, no. Steve is dating her, not me.”
“Oh. That’s, um, strange. Why would he date her when he knows she’s a threat?”
He shrugged. “He just can’t let her go. In all honesty, I find it a little sickening.” He paused to glance down at the backboard, now starting to develop into a real project. “You should meet her sometime,” he said as he stroked glue onto the back of paper. He looked up at me again. “Our demo release party is a few weeks away. You should come, and Chris too.”
For the second time that day, I didn’t know if I’d heard correctly, but even so, it was wonderful.

Chapter 5

Note: Good chapter! Hazel finally gets some feeling, yay! Here we go!

My plan to ask Ellis about his strange long sleeved habit didn’t go as planned, however, I didn’t forget. It had been three weeks since he’d come over, and our project was due in one week. I’d barely talked to him in those three weeks, but he had told me he was really busy. He’d been recording that demo that he’d won with the concert contest, and he wouldn’t be done with it until Wednesday, two days before the project was due. I knew we had to get working very, very soon if we wanted to get at least a decent grade.
If it had been my choice, I probably would’ve been about half way done by now with the back board, and done with the Mark Twain report. Actually, I was planning to finish the report tonight. I hoped Ellis had at least started his, but knowing his busy schedule, he probably had barely thought about it.
As stressed as I was about it, I didn’t want the project to end in a way. This had been my chance to talk to Ellis alone and get to know him better, and so far we’d barely done that, let alone get something done on the project. I wished we could be friends, but maybe it was better if I just left him alone. He was probably too busy to make any more friends.
It was Wednesday that he talked to me again. I was sitting alone in study hall, as usual, with the same empty desk to my right. Someone called my name, and when I turned my head from my book Ellis was climbing over a desk to get closer to me. He jumped over the chair connected to the desk with a metal bar and sat down, a little out of breath.
“Hey,” he breathed. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“All my parts are recorded, so I won’t have to go in the studio anymore. I’ve got a lot of free time now.”
“Oh, good.”
“So you probably want to get to work as soon as possible, don’t you?
I nodded swiftly.
“So, today, then?”
“Sure,” I started, but inwardly cringed. Today after school Chris was having a party with two of his guy friends, and I didn’t want to get in their way, especially with Ellis there with me.
“One problem, though,” I said. “We can’t do it at my house.” I didn’t want to tell him why out loud for fear he would say it was fine with him, but to my relief he didn’t ask.
“Oh, that’s fine. My house is good.”
“Okay.”
“Should I write down my address?”
“Yeah.” I searched for a piece of paper around me, but didn’t find anything. It was too awkward to have him write on my hand, so I dug into my binder. I reluctantly tore a piece off a worksheet that was due the next day. I figured I’d just have to hand it in torn.
“Here.” I handed the scrap over to him. He scrawled down his address quickly and handed it back.
“Whenever you get there after school is fine. I’ll be home.”
“I shouldn’t call first?”
“No, it’s okay. Just come whenever.” And with that he hopped over the seats again back to his desk.
After school I ran home for a few minutes to get directions off the internet. I didn’t have any trouble getting there, and within twenty minutes I was parked in front of his medium-sized two story house.
I walked along the stone path that curved up to his off-white door, and nervously rang the doorbell. Ellis opened the door within fifteen seconds, and invited me in.
The inside of his house was clean and homey. The front door opened to a small foyer with dark green walls and a dark wooden floor. Candles burned on a small table, while no other lights illuminated the room. It smelled like sweet pine. I wished to stay here longer, but Ellis led me through a door and down a carpeted staircase to a medium sized room, presumably the basement.
“We can work down here.” He strode over to where a couch and a few other chairs were, but didn’t sit. “Do we need to do more research?”
“Not for the project we’re doing together. You’ll have to get the stuff for your report, though.”
He nodded. “So, what should we do?”
“Um, we could print and cut out all the pictures and words for the back board. I don’t have that yet, but I should be able to get it tomorrow at school. I have all the stuff to print on my flash drive.”
I dug in my pocket for the little black flash drive, noticing a computer against the wall while I was doing so. I handed it to him, and I awkwardly followed him to the computer, watching him while he worked.
There was no printer beside the computer as there was at my house, so I figured this must not be the only one they owned. And sure enough, Ellis dismissed himself to go retrieve the copies as soon as he was finished on the computer.
I took a seat on a brown plaid chair that didn’t match with the blue carpeting while I waited. I took a long look around the room, but it was mostly empty besides the chairs and the computer.
Soon Ellis bounded down the steps with two pairs of scissors and all the papers to be cut. I tried to see what his mood was, but he smiled half the time and was serious the other, so it was hard. Either he was trying to be lighthearted, or this was awkward for him. I agreed with the awkward part.
He handed me a pair of bright red scissors and half the papers to cut. I stayed in the chair I was in, while he sat down on the couch and laid his papers on the other seat of the couch. A few minutes of silence besides the snipping sound of paper was all the noise that filled the room until Ellis tried to make conversation.
“So…um, how was your day?”
I shrugged. “Normal. What about yours?”
“About the same. I’m a little anxious to hear what this demo sounds like.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great. Is that one song on it? The one that you played for sound check at Frisco?”
He grinned genuinely. “Of course. We all love that one. Is that still your favorite?”
Funny, I didn’t remember telling him it was my favorite.
“Yeah. It’s so pretty.”
“Thanks. I wrote it with Dave.” In my mind I tried to remember which one was Dave. Ah, yes, Blondie.
“I mean, he wrote the words. I worked on the music and harmony. I think it turned out pretty nice.”
“Me too.” Snip, snip, snip.
“Thanks.”
I put down my pair of scissors for a bit and scratched my forehead. Ellis looked at me for a second and jumped up.
“Are you too warm? I can turn the temperature down if you want.”
I glanced at him quickly, and was immediately drawn to his shirt, remembering how I wanted to ask him why he always was wearing long sleeves. Today he was wearing them again, this time a light weight white shirt.
I shook my head, seeing my opportunity. “If you’re hot, though, you could roll up your sleeves.”
His eyebrows mashed together. “No, I’m comfortable,” He said in a low voice. He looked the farthest thing from it.
“So why do you wear long sleeves all the time, anyway?” I said this kind of jokingly, but his face turned serious.
It took awhile for him to respond. “Do you really want to know the honest answer?” He asked in that same low voice. He stared at me intently, his eyes a cloudy blue.
I didn’t know what to think. The sudden shift of his moods seemed strange to me. Why was the matter of his sleeves so seriously important? “I think I do. Are you okay?”
He ignored my question. “Okay, I’ll tell you. And show you.”
Show me?
“I’m going to let you see something that might make you look at me differently.” He kept his piercing stare up. “You might be appalled. You might want to leave.”
“Why would I leave?” I asked, puzzled.
“Just watch.” He sighed.
He took hold of the edge of his sleeve, and starting rolling it up. I gasped. All along his arm, there were scars. They were of various sizes, shapes, and colors, but most were white with small flecks of pink mixed in. I didn’t know what to think more than ever.
He started to roll up his other sleeve. I didn’t know if I wanted him to reveal more. Surely this couldn’t have been from one car accident? His other arm was identical to the first.
He looked up at me innocently. “I can’t wear short sleeves.” He paused. “Hazel, you’re pale.”
I was dizzy, too. It seemed surreal for numerous reasons. Just a minute ago we’d been happily cutting our papers for the project, and my one simple question had provoked this. I didn’t take my eyes off of his arms.
“Are there more?” I said in a small voice.
He didn’t answer, but started to wriggle out of his shirt. Underneath, he had a tank top on, but more scarred flesh was visible. I tried hard to control my breath. I was starting to feel a little sick.
“Do you want to leave?” He waltzed closer to me and sat down on the very edge of the couch.
“N-No,” I managed in a whisper.
He held his left arm out in front of him, his elbow slightly bent, palm facing up. With his other hand he slowly stroked a longer scar right below his wrist, looking at it intently.
“How?” Another soft whisper escaped my lips. I stared at the scar he was stroking.
He whipped his head up. He didn’t speak for a few seconds, but when he did his words came out soft and slow.
“Every time someone hurts me with words, hurts my feelings, really, I get a cut. And more often than not, that cut scars over.”
“So those are from all the times someone has said something about you or to you that hurt on the inside?” I felt like my words didn’t make sense, but he nodded.
“And they are visible on the outside.”
“Are they…everywhere?”
“Yes, except on my hands and face. I don’t know how to explain that, but I’m glad for it.”
“What do you feel when you’re getting the cut?”
“It’s like…a knife, in way,” he said unevenly, trying to find the words. His eyes drifted slightly upwards, like he was in a daze.
“Slicing. The scabs are horrendous.” He shifted his head back to me. “I have one now, actually. If you really want I could…show you.”
My eyes dropped down to the floor. “First, how did you get it?”
“I’ve been having some problems with this girl.” He shook his head.
“Oh.” My eyes stayed locked on the blue carpet. Of course he had a girlfriend, that was conceivable. I should’ve known before, should’ve seen something. I couldn’t explain to utter disappointment I felt when I let the words sink into me. All the false hope that I just realized I had been storing in myself was dashed quickly, like a fire licking up newspaper and transforming it into black ash. It was confirmed, then. I did feel something, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.
As meek and modest as people told me I was, my selfish side took over then. An aberrant side, though it was, it was strong. Inside myself I flamed, and now that it was confirmed that I felt something, the feeling let loose, raging like a fire. It was sick, in a sense to see myself like this, but there was no turning back now. I’d stick with my feelings, however irrational they were, because now I felt something. Never before had I really felt anything like this, nothing near as passionate. It felt fickle, as if I could not hold on to it for long. It would die soon, I was sure of it. This feeling would die, and that was probably best, but I felt crazy now because I didn’t want it to die. All of my secret fascinations with him, my absorption of him, it all felt explained in a split second. My strange obsession, if you will, had led me to this feeling.
With the news of his girlfriend, I didn’t feel totally crushed like some would. Instead I felt enraged against whoever she was. Another strange new passion welled up inside me, something I couldn’t control. This one didn’t feel right, it felt all wrong. Yet I felt it, much to my discomfort. I hated myself for it. I pledged that I wouldn’t let it make me do something rash, something I’d regret later.
“Do you want to see it?” His voice confirmed all my previous emotions.
I lifted my gaze. “Yes.”
He lifted the hem of his tank top, exposing his stomach. Scars were placed all over it, as I expected, but the scab caught me off guard. It was about three inches long, and thin. It sat right in the middle of his abs, brown with yellow edges, and then pink flesh all around it.
“It will scar then?”
“Most likely.” He kept his shirt up for a minute, awkward as it was, but put it down when he saw my reddening face.
“Do you…Do you tell this to everyone who works with you?”
He laughed. “No.” Quickly, his face became serious again. “I just didn’t feel like wearing long sleeves around you all the time.” He laughed again, and stuck in a “just kidding.”
“Has anyone ever seen you get cut?” I asked.
His face dropped. “Yes. I sound crazy because I just randomly shout or groan and hold wherever the cut is. And my mom has to wash my shirts or pants if they get bloody.”
“Oh.”
“Anymore questions?” He didn’t say this like a teacher who really didn’t want to be asked anything, but openly. He sounded like he honestly wanted to answer anything I had to ask.
“Why does this happen to you?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s been happening ever since I can remember. There’s no way to explain it.”
“You can get scars from other things, right? Like if you accidently cut yourself with a knife.”
“Yes.” He pulled up his pant leg and pointed to a scar on his knee that was laid out among others. “This is when I used to play soccer when the scars weren’t on my legs yet. I tripped and landed on a rock.”
“Why aren’t they on your face?”
He sighed. “We’re not sure how to explain that, actually. I’m quite fortunate, though. If they were on my face I’d have to make the accident story more drastic.
“And they’re just normal cuts and scars?”
He nodded. “Simply flesh reacting to wounds.” He held out his arm, the sleeve still rolled up. “Touch one, if you want.”
I reached out my hand to touch his arm. The particular scar I was looking at was about two inches long and white and pink. The flesh was stretched from both sides of it, meeting in the middle. Its bumpy course curved slightly with the shape of his arm. My fingers contacted his skin and he sucked in a breath.
“Your hands are cold. I can turn up the temperature.”
“I’m fine,” I said hastily. I withdrew my hand. “Does your family know?”
“Yes. It’s kind of hard to keep something so big like this from them. Don’t say anything about it to anyone else, though. Okay?”
I nodded. It seemed as though the conversation was coming to a close, and I couldn’t imagine sitting back down and continuing on with the project like normal. I needed some fresh air, too, but I didn’t want to admit that to Ellis. It would just make regret trusting me.
My phone vibrated once in my pocket, letting me know I had a text message. It was Chris asking if I could pick up a liter of soda on my way home. I saw my road of escape and took it.
“Um, I can finish cutting the papers tonight, if you want.”
“Oh, you have to go?”
I nodded. I felt bad for stretching the truth, but it the room seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and Ellis’s sleeves were still pushed up. His scars stared me down, making me go crazy.
I shoveled all the papers in my arms and walked up to the foyer with Ellis holding the doors open for me along the way. The sweet smell of the candles and the recycled air made me swallow hard. I couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.
When I finally reached my car, I slammed the door and concentrated on breathing evenly. I felt as if I was being watched, maybe even tested by Ellis. He was probably staring out after me to see if I’d rush out the driveway like a maniac, or if I’d calmly make my exit. I focused on going slow and looking both ways before pulling out.
I stopped at a local gas station to pick up a liter of any soda available. I knew Chris and his friends wouldn’t care what it was as long as it was sweet and carbonated. A man with gray whiskers and a prominent protruding belly stood behind the cash register, but I didn’t see any of it. I just saw his arms, his hairy, smooth arms. No scars, no scabs. He called me sweetie as I walked out the door with the soda, but I barely heard or cared.
Upon reaching my house, I put the soda in the refrigerator for the guys and ran to my room. I needed to think, to get these strange thoughts out of me. I searched for paper, any kind of paper I could write on.

Dear Cassie,
I’ve just witnessed something crazy, and I can’t even tell you. If you we were still talking every day, maybe this would be different. Maybe I’d break the promise I made to Ellis and tell you everything. Just knowing that I can’t share this secret with anyone makes it harder to keep. I wonder how many scars he has. There’s so many all over him. I’ll never look at him the same again. I can still stand him, though, it’s just overwhelming. I wonder why he showed me this. I don’t know how to handle this anymore. I don’t know how to handle much of anything right now.
Love, Hazel

Knowing I’d never let anyone see what I’d just scrawled, I shoved the paper deep down into a drawer, piled six books on top it, and slammed it shut.

Chapter 4

Note: Good News! About half of chapter 5 is already written! Sorry this one took so long. You won't be disappointed with the upcoming chapters, though. Oh, and the setting of this is Davie, FL. I just decided that tonight. Enjoy!

“Due to the overwhelming short amount of time we have left to complete two units, I am assigning you a project that you’ll have no class time to work on.” My English teacher, Mrs. Higgins, paced in the front of the room. I slowly tapped my pencil eraser on the desk top in front of me, observing her. She had a peculiar way of talking, enunciating every word and ending her T’s sharply. Red lipstick stained her lips, barely missing her teeth. She always had a dress on with floral print and marched along in tall high heels.
“You will be paired with one other classmate, and you are to research two authors of the 19th century. Keep in mind we will be reading some poems and short stories from some of these authors over the next few weeks. You are to make a backboard comparing and contrasting your authors, and each of you will complete an individual report on one of them. The other partner will take the author you don’t have. It will be due a month from tomorrow, which is the third Friday in October. I will pass around a paper later with all the details, but now I will assign your partners.”
She proceeded to read down the list. I continued to tap my pencil, only half listening for my name. It had been two weeks since the December Breath concert, and Ellis and I didn’t talk much. My wish to forget him seemed to be coming true whether I wanted it to or not. Homework and Frisco kept me busy most days, but I regretted wishing him away. It was as if some unknown force heard my thoughts, took them seriously, and pushed Ellis and I as far apart as it could.
“Hazel Tamblyn and Ellis Lennon.” I perked up at my name. Had I heard right? Ellis was my partner? “You’ll be researching Mark Twain and Edgar Allen Poe.”
I twisted around to look at Ellis, who sat behind me. He gave me a smile and flicked his eyebrows up in unison. I smiled and faced forward. Mrs. Higgins kept rambling, but I didn’t pay attention. No class time would mean we had to get together and work at one of our houses. Either I’d be going over to his house, or he’d be coming to mine. I thought about Ellis coming into my home, seeing where I got ready in the morning and lounged around every day. I thought about me going to his house and seeing the same thing.
The bell broke up my thoughts. Absentmindedly I collected my things and walked out the classroom. However, there was a crowd forming to get out the door, so I got pushed to the back.
“Hazel!” I turned to my right, and there he was. “I’m really busy these next few weeks with recording that demo. The one my band won, remember?” I nodded. “Well, I have to talk to you really soon about getting together to do this project because my schedule fills up fast.”
“Okay. I’m pretty free most of the time. I don’t really do that much after school or anything.” I realized the last sentence was totally unnecessary, but the throng crowding the door was thinning fast, so I just stepped out into the hall without saying anything else.
That night he surprised me by calling. I kind of enjoyed the suspense of seeing a new number pop up on my cell phone’s screen. You never knew who it could be and what they would tell you.
“Hello?” I answered, eagerly anticipating who the mysterious caller was.
“Hey, Hazel.”
“Uh, hey.” I paused. “Who is this?”
“Oh, sorry. It’s Ellis.” My heart pounded. How in the world?
“Oh! Hi!” I was relieved that my disbelief didn’t come through.
“Yeah, I got your number from Heather.” That was one of the acquaintances I sat with at lunch. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.”
“I was just calling to set up a time we could work on that English project.”
“Oh. I’m pretty much free most of the time, so whenever you can do it.”
“What about after school on Thursday? Is that good?”
I gulped. “Yeah.” I choked on the word as it left my mouth. “Yes. That’s fine.”
“Okay. I have to make up a quiz I missed, so I’ll be there around three.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
“See ya.”
“Bye.”
I hung up, startled. Ellis was coming here, to my house. Immediately my mind started processing a flow of steady questions. Where will we work? How long will he stay? What will he think? How awkward would it be? What would we talk about?
I shook my head to clear it. I was unsuccessful (big surprise there), so I threw myself into tidying up my house. I started with my room. I didn’t really want him in my room considering all of my personal obsessions that were displayed openly. All of my random signed posters from Frisco were tacked up on one of my light olive green walls. On another wall, my sunset calendar was hanging up. I’d received it for Christmas from my Mom, and for lack of a better choice, I put it up next to my bulletin board. That had pictures of my family, Cassie and I, and some of my previous pets which had since died pinned up on it.
There wasn’t all that much to clean in my room, just a few wrinkled clothes thrown in a corner and some old books. As I was picking up one of my books, a note fell from it. I instantly recognized Cassie’s handwriting and her infamous doodles that circled the front. I undid the elaborate folds of the thin notebook paper, a design we’d always fold the paper in whenever we had a note for the other. It was written in blue ink, Cassie’s favorite kind of pen since the seventh grade, and decorated in purple, her second favorite.
Hazel Tamblyn! How fun was last night?! Seriously, when you broke the microwave I almost died.
I smiled to myself. It had been a Sunday night, and Cassie was over. We got bored and hungry, so we wanted to make microwave quesadillas. I put them in our old microwave for the correct amount of time, but after about a minute the whole thing popped and sputtered until it just died on there on the spot.
I was having such a great time that I totally forgot to tell you about my thing with Ryan on Friday. Well I ended up wearing that really weird blue shirt. I guess you could call it blue. We never decided, remember?
Unexpectedly, I got choked up. I hadn’t talked to Cassie in weeks. That last time had been when I’d ran into Ellis and she saw it. We never wrote to each other anymore, or called, or got together. I felt like our friendship was slowly being washed away like an insignificant seashell being prodded by the ocean until it finally frees its grip on the beach’s sand, losing its place there forever.
I think Ryan had a good time. Sadly, I was trying so hard not to pig out on my ice cream that I accidently dropped some on my shirt. Super embarrassing! My mom got it all out, though. I swear she’s a miracle worker with stains.
I remembered once I was over at Cassie’s house, and I got some red punch all over my cream colored shirt. She took care of it while I borrowed a shirt from Cassie, and within the hour she had the stain out.
This is kinda getting long, and I think the teacher is suspecting me writing this instead of listening to his lecture. But how can he expect me to pay attention when we’re talking about the anatomy of a pig? Ew! I’ll talk to you at lunch about plans for Wednesday. Bye!
I folded up the note and left it sit on the floor. I didn’t feel like moving after reading it. I sat there, trying to work my way through what had happened to our friendship. Last year we’d talk every day and usually get together once every one or two weeks. I could easily see the huge contrast between that and this year. Were we just too busy for each other now? I felt like she was slipping fast, too fast for me to do anything about it. It was like someone accidently falling off a cliff and it happens too fast for anyone to catch their arm and pull them up again.
A single tear was threatening to leave its home in the corner of my eye and trickle down my cheek. The reasonable part of my brain was considering getting up to turn on the lights since the sun was almost done setting and the room was growing darker by the minute, but my emotions won. I wanted to stay sitting here for as long as it took to make me feel better, which could be awhile. I glanced at the note, and saw a P.S.
P.S. on the back of this note are some pictures just for you!
I unfolded it again and flipped it over. There was a cartoon of Cassie and Ryan on their ice cream date, complete with Cassie distressed about her stained shirt, and a drawing of her teacher at that time, Mr. Bradley. Obviously these were supposed to be humorous, but I didn’t laugh. The tear that had been pushing to slip out finally did, followed by another from my other eye. I didn’t make myself push them away, but simply let them fall. Was our friendship over?
The ringtone of my phone went off. Its light illuminated the portion of the room I sat in. I looked at the number, recognizing it as Ellis’s. Under my breath I muttered an unintelligible “crap!” and flipped open the phone. I was determined not to let him know I’d just been crying, but things didn’t go my way. On my greeting my voice cracked, but I hoped that didn’t totally give it away.
“Uh, hi. It’s Ellis again.”
“Oh. Hey.”
“Some things in my schedule got shifted around, so I can’t make it Thursday anymore. But if you’re free tomorrow, I have time then after school.”
“Yeah, I’m not busy then.” Some unwanted mucus started to drip in my nose, so I had no choice but to sniff.
“Hey, are you okay? You sound sad.”
Darn it, I hadn’t hid it! “Um,” I said slowly, trying to quickly think up an excuse. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just something…” I let my voice cut off.
“If you want to talk about it, I’ve got time.”
If I was being honest with myself, I really did want to. Badly. I wished I could pour out my heart without seeming like a miserable idiot, but that wasn’t reality. If I chose to tell him, that’s exactly what I would come across as.
“Honestly,” he said quietly, “I’m not just saying that. I really do want to know if you’re upset and why.”
“A little upset.”
“Why?”
I sighed, trying to suppress it as much as I could. “Well,” I started. “It’s kind of stupid.”
“That’s okay. I get upset about weird stuff all the time. What is it?”
“My best friend and I got separated this year for classes, and that’s never happened before. Last year we were really close, but over the summer we were really busy and didn’t get together much, and now I don’t see her at school. We haven’t talked in weeks, and a few minutes ago I found a note from last year when it actually felt like we were best friends. But now, I’m not sure.” I stopped awkwardly. The miserable idiot part of me definitely came out.
“That’s not a stupid reason. I mean, you’re losing a friend. That hurts.”
Why did he have to put it that way? I sniffed again, but the tears had stopped flowing now. “Yeah.”
“Have you made any new friends yet?”
I thought of my lunch table. Most of the time I just stared into space, only half listening to their meaningless ramblings. They didn’t exactly talk to me, and I didn’t really talk to them. I wouldn’t really call that a friendship.
“Not really. I have a few more acquaintances, and that’s about it.”
“Mm. I’m really sorry, Hazel. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“That’s okay. It’s enough that you listened.”
“I’m pretty good at that. Anytime.”
“Well, I’ll let you go. See you tomorrow.”
“Okay, bye.”
I stayed seated on the floor, but repositioned myself. I decided that I’d call Cassie. As Ellis put it, I felt like I was losing her, and I didn’t want that to happen. On the third ring, I decided that I’d leave a message if she didn’t pick up. “Hi guys, this is Cassie’s cell phone. I can’t come to the phone right now, but leave me a message.” Hearing her bubbly prerecorded voice worsened the ache left over in my throat from crying. Beeeeep.
“Uh, hi Cassie this is Hazel. I found this old note from last year and, um…” Idiotic! “…I was just thinking about how much I missed you. Call me back when you get this. Bye.”
The next day I didn’t talk to anyone unless I had to, especially Ellis. I was a little embarrassed about telling him my concerns the previous night, and didn’t even feel like making eye contact. However, the thought of him coming to my house this afternoon loomed above me like my own personal rain cloud. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to come, but I was scared and overwhelmed. I especially didn’t want him to play counselor with me like I knew some people would. I didn’t peg him to be that type of person, though. I hoped he wouldn’t surprise me.
At the end of the day after the last bell rang, Ellis came up to me in a beige corduroy jacket with a brown bag slung over his shoulder. I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked even through my nervousness.
“I forgot to get your address last night. Could you write it down?” He handed me a half sheet of notebook paper. “Uh, I forgot a pen. Hold on.” He dug through his bag until he found a little pencil with its eraser worn down to the metal holding it in.
I quickly scribbled down my house number and street and handed the paper and pencil back to him. “Are you coming straight over?”
“Yup. I’ll see you soon!” he called down the halls as he walked away.
I sighed and continued packing up. The warm Florida air greeted me as I went out the door. I loved that the warmth here stayed year round, and I didn’t have to worry about wearing heavy winter coat. In fact, I could wear flip-flops and swim in December, something most of the United States didn’t get the chance to do.
Thankfully I got to my house before Ellis did. I ran to my room to put down my bag and wait for him. In about five minutes, the doorbell rang. I greeted him at the door. It was strange seeing him inside my house for the first time, possibly because I was used to seeing him at school. My small one-floor house seemed too quiet all of a sudden.
“We can go to the computer and look up stuff. It’s over here.” I led him through the hallways of my house until we reached the computer.
“Who are we doing again?”
“We’re supposed to compare and contrast Mark Twain and Edgar Allen Poe on a backboard, and then write a separate report on one of them. Do you know which one you want?”
We discussed the project, at least for the first hour. I ended up getting Mark Twain for my report, which I didn’t mind at all. I’d read some of Poe’s short stories such as the Tell Tale Heart, and got the idea that he was a very dark and depressing person. I was later proved right by my English teacher. Twain, however, always seemed much more upbeat. I hadn’t read any of his books, but I’d seen the play Tom Sawyer before and I didn’t think it was bad.
All was going well with Ellis until he asked the question I’d been dreading, but kind of knew he was going to ask eventually.
“So are you feeling any better?”
“Yeah, I’m doing alright. I’m still not sure what to do about it, though.”
“That’s a tough one. Basically, you can try and mend it or let it go.”
“I tried to call her last night, but she didn’t pick up. I left a message, too, but she didn’t call back.”
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it. He paused for a few seconds before answering. “I was going to say it sounds as if you’re more dedicated to maintaining the friendship right now, but it’s stupid to judge that by a phone call.”
I nodded silently.
“I’d keep trying,” he went on, “and if it stays like it is now, I’d just let it go. But you can always try.”
“That’s all I can really do, I guess.”
“I think you’ll find a new friend somewhere. There’s always one around the corner.”
I thought about my time with Cassie. I’d never looked for another friend in four years, expecting to not find anything like the friendship I had with her. Perhaps it was about time I’d moved on.
As I thought I stared at Ellis’s long sleeved blue shirt. Just as I was about to ask why he always wore long sleeves, he announced he had to go. I escorted him out the door, and when he was gone, I thought. It occurred to me I’d never seen him wearing a short sleeve shirt, ever. For Florida weather, that was very strange. Even when he got really sweaty performing, he didn’t change. I was determined to ask him about it sometime very soon.