Page 79 of The Prospect

“What in the bloody hell is going on over here?” Not only can I hear Hart’s voice as it approaches the two of us, but I can also see the dust kick up behind him as he sprints over. “You okay, love?” He checks in on me first, placing his hands on either shoulder before he glares back at Green. “Toilets, huh?” He’s visibly unamused. “Why can’t you take a hint, Green? She doesn’t want to talk to you. So why don’t you just sod off and?—”

“Can you unlock the car, Hart?” I request, forcing him to stop mid-spiel before this turns into a sequel from the other night. I have no energy to split them apart again, nor desire to. “Please?”

Hart peers down at me, brushing a careful hand along my cheek as he takes a deep breath in and slow breath out before he nods softly, unlocks the car and opens the door for me to step inside.

“Hazel…” I don’t know why Green’s voice still has the power to get me to stop, but it does as I look back his way expectantly—hopeful that the next few words that fall from his lips will be worthy of my forgiveness. “It’s just…Saturday.” He changes the subject entirely. “Your birthday. My parents have put something together for you and they really want you there, so please…for them…come?”

I sink my shoulders before I stare up at him once more. I hate how he feels like a stranger right now. How he’s acting in a way that in our fifteen years of friendship, I’ve never come to see—to know.

Where has my Greenie gone? I once convinced him I’d never leave him, but somehow, it feels like he’s left me. From the moment this whole plan began, he left me.

“I…I’ll think about it.” I step into the car, Hart closing the door shut behind me and I close my eyes, tuning out this world with the hope that I can escape into another.

TWENTY-THREE

H A Z E L

“Just tell me when…”the waiter instructs and before I can comprehend if I’ve hummed out a response or not, they’ve already begun grating some cheese on top of my spaghetti and meatballs.

I watch as the topping falls on top of the pasta, assessing each strand like a metaphor because I cannot escape the power of my mind.

Each turn of the grater represents the effort I’ve put in over the years to make Green notice me—see me beyond just that of his best friend and perhaps this week, he did, but without an explanation as to what he saw me as instead, I’m left like this grater, turning the thought over and over in my mind.

“Um, Hazel?” I can hear Hart’s voice, but still, it doesn’t quite hold the power to break me out of this trance.

Seriously, what did Green think our talk today was going to accomplish? I can’t believe him. I really can’t. How dare he come so ill-prepared for an apology. This is madness.

“Hazel?” Hart calls out my name for a second time, but again, it does nothing. The sound of my name is only a reminder of how Green called out to me earlier.

There was a sadness in his tone—in the way his voice dropped and I could've sworn it started to break when he mentioned his parents' party for me this weekend. Fuck, I don’t want to go. I’m so over parties by now that I don’t even care if it’s my birthday. I’ll spend it alone at this point because right now, that’s how I feel without Green—alone.

“Hazel?!” Finally, Hart’s voice is so loud that it snaps me back into my chair and forces me back to reality as I realize the mounds of cheese that rests ahead.

“Oh my goodness!” My hands fly over my mouth as the waiter finally stops, pulling back with a troubled look on his face. No one has ever had so much cheese on their plate in their life.

Is now a bad time to say I'm lactose intolerant?

“Is that enough, ma'am?” The waiter hesitates as the heat rises to my cheeks. “Or would you like some more?”

“Uh…” I’m too embarrassed to speak. “That’s uh—perfect, thank you.”

He nods reluctantly before he takes a step back. “You two give me a wave if you need anything, alright?”

“Will do,” Hart answers on behalf of the two of us as I stare down at this monstrosity ahead. I need to stop zoning out. I’m on a date, not a mental field trip in my mind.

Get it together.

“Well, Hazel, I think it’s safe to say that I’ve come to the conclusion that either A., you really love cheese, or B., bringing you to this date after your talk with Green was a bad idea.”

I wince out a smile in his direction as I use my fork to scoop some of the cheese aside, twirling the pasta within my fork as I stay silent.

“I’m taking the silence as the latter.” Hart surmises, leaning across the table with a saddened look. “Listen, love, we can go if you’re not feeling up to it. I’ll just call the waiter and we can heat this food up later?”

I shake my head to disagree. “No, I’m sorry,” I spew out. “I just—zoned out. Talking to Green earlier…” I can barely finish my sentence, given how frazzled my mind is. “You know what, let’s not talk about it.” I settle on. “Let’s just enjoy dinner. What did you get?” I try to sneak a peek of his plate, but all I can see is this unimpressed look on his face instead.

“Hazel.” He draws out my name, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Sweeping this under the rug isn’t going to help, just like how scooping all that cheese off your meatballs isn’t going to make your food any better. Here.” He hands me his food and takes mine in place. “Eat this instead. Lucky for you, not only do I like cheese, but I like to listen. Now,talk. Tell me what you’re thinking about in that mind of yours.”

I fall back into my chair and slump my shoulders, caving instantly. “There’s nothing to say, Hart. Mine and Green’s conversation…well, it was about as productive as my ability to tell the waiter to stop grating the parmesan. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of us. We’re a mess—clearly.”

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