Page 84 of The Prospect

“It looks good on you.” Hart runs his hand along the fabric before brushing along my cheek. “Chelsie’s right… Green is your color.”

Okay, everyone needs to stop saying that.

“Thanks, you two,” I bypass the comment and express my gratitude instead. “I love it.” I smile back down at the material before peering back up at them. “I really do.”

The two seem impressed with their ability to brighten the ever-growing smile on my face.

Each gift that has been passed my way has been even more thoughtful than the last. It’s as if everyone banded together to make, just like Green said, this my best birthday yet—and it has been.

Despite this unspoken tension between myself and the host of the evening, this party has redeemed the word party in and out of itself.

Not only did Green’s parents cater in my favorite restaurant for supper, using the dinner table talk as the perfect opportunity to recall their fondest childhood memories of me, they even video-called my parents in to join in on all the laughter.

Now, hours later, after some drinks, laughs, and a spontaneous decision to light a fire in the back garden, those who remained have found comfort in showering me with endless presents.

I feel undeniably grateful.

“My turn!” Hart sits up, reaching backward to grab a hold of an oversized bag that sports a teddy bear wearing a party hat.

“Aw, I didn’t know they put you on the bag, Hart.” It’s Green who makes the sarcastic comment, forcing not only a laugh amongst the group but from me as well.

He’s been softening me all night—Hart was right, second chances are important, even if this is Green’s third, but we don’t need to look at the intricacies here.

Things are going well. I need to keep them that way.

“Ha. Ha.” Hart mocks. “You’re so funny, Green,” he says monotonically, though, I can see a smile aching behind those blue eyes.

“I think it’s cute,” I tell him as I take the bag from his grasp. “Did you wrap it yourself?” I probe.

“I tried,” he admits. “Now go on.” He gestures for me to start tearing into it. “I wanna see your reaction.”

I comply as I rustle through the paper. I’m like a kid on Christmas morning as I dig into the bag, bursting at the seams until I reach a box that forces my eyes to widen.

“Hart.” All I can say is his name. “No…”

“Yes.” His response is just as simple.

“No,” I say once more, pulling his present out of the bag. All the while I catch everyone in my peripherals trying to sneak a peek. “You didn’t…”

“But I did.” Hart leans back in his chair, clearly chuffed by my reaction.

“What is it?!” Wilks is as impatient as ever, standing up at this point to get a better look.

“Yeah, what is it, Hazel?” Amira is the next one to chime in.

Her voice draws my eyes up and as I respond, I look directly at Green. “A computer,” I reveal, hands unsteady as I show off the box like a proud portrait.

“Not just any computer,” Hart tells them with confidence. “Sure, this computer will play movies, TV shows, and hell, even search up shirtless photos of me at record speed…”

I playfully scoff in laughter.

“But that’s not what it’s designed for. This…” Hart gestures toward the box. “Is designed so that Hazel can draw on it,” he reveals what I knew all along. “After all…” He looks back over at me. “That’s what you wanted, right? A laptop you could use for drawing?”

I nod faintly as I plant a tender kiss onto his lips, whispering thank you into his ear as Wilks chooses now to chime back in.

“Geez!” he loudly remarks, managing to take the words right out of my mouth, not as theatrically, mind you, but close enough. “Good luck topping that, everyone, because this man right here…” He points toward Hart. “Has just won the best birthday gift award?—”

“Enough.” Chelsie gently swats his arm, though everyone seems to find the comment amusing. Well, everyone but Green, who, although is trying to join in the laughter, has chosen to fake a smile as he peers down toward a wrapped-up box on the ground.

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