Page 50 of The Prospect

Green rolls his eyes. “How ridiculous,” he remarks. “You’re my best friend, Hazel, and if I want to get you something, I’m allowed to do that. Like I said in the note…” He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek before peering over at me without even a glimmer of doubt. “I could never not get you anything.”

I’m a thermometer, reaching its maximum temperature as the red rises to my cheeks. It doesn’t matter that I’m surrounded by all of this brisk outdoor air right now, yet somehow, with Green’s remark, he’s managed to make it impossible for me to cool down.

Christ.

Don’t digress, Hazel.

Focus back on the other part of that night.

Focus.

I swallow. “Speaking of romantic gestures…” I opt to change the subject matter. “I ended up accomplishing my step two for Hart that night as well.”

Green says nothing, prompting me to continue.

“I ended up painting Hart a picture. It took me a while, but it was worth it. I think he really liked it?—”

“Oh, he liked it, alright,” Green cut me short, pursing his lips as he toys with his hands. “The guy couldn’t help but obnoxiously show it off to everyone in the changing room after practice.”

I don’t pick on Green’s distaste, instead I pick up on Hart’s enthusiasm. “He did?” My voice inflates with a sudden sense of confidence. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Green’s so short he’s virtually non-existent with me. “I mean, Christ, it’s only been a couple of days since we last talked, Hazel, and in such a short amount of time, you two seem to have gotten close. Dates, gestures, him calling youHaze…”

An eerie silence falls between the two of us as I watch both his jaw and fist tighten...

“I mean, clearly, things are working out for you two. Aren’t they...”

His comment comes striking down on me like a revelation—answering the long-awaited question I’d been trying to get an answer on all night. I knew something was troubling him, but now he’s made it clear as day.

He feels as if he’s losing me.

My time.

My drawing.

My nickname.

These were once all the things that once only revolved around him, but now, are being shared with Hart.

Wait, but if he’s upset about all of that, does that mean he’s…jealous?

He can’t be.

I refuse to feed into that delusion, knowing if I do, I’ll never let up on it. Green’s not acting this way because he has to share me.No. The only logical answer as to why he’s only acting this way is because he has to share me with Hart. That has to be it. Because if it were anyone else, he wouldn’t care, right?

I can’t believe this. If this is the truth, does he really think that our friendship is that superficial he'd be so easily replaceable?

The two of us have made so many memories, shared too many special moments together, and known each other for far too long toeverallow anything to come in between us.

Us.

A simple, all-encompassing word that describes what we’ve always been—what we’ll always be.

I lose myself for a moment, unsure of what exactly to say to all that. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to question his intentions or words, all I want to do is just run.

Run.

The word forces my eyes to wander toward the back gate of the garden, and without needing to process another thought, instantly, a place comes to mind.

---