Page 83 of The Prospect

“Me pouring out my heart to her might’ve also contributed to her presence today,” he scoffs in laughter, interlocking his palm with Green’s. “And pleading your case. But it was worth it.” He peers down at me with a smile. “Right, Hazel? See, that wasn’t so hard. Look, a small exchange and now you two have made up and are right back to being best friends. Simple.”

An awkward silence follows his remark and as my eyes wander toward the ground, I can’t help but notice Green loosening the collar around his neck.

It’s evident that our mutual exchange hasn’t quite yet lessened the blow of our argument.

Sure, I’d say we’ve made progress, but a mutual smile doesn’t quite constitute forgiveness in my world. The two of us still have a lot to talk about and right now, standing here, on my birthday… Well, it’s not the time.

“Eh! Is that the birthday girl I see?” Wilks' timing is as impeccable as always as he approaches us from behind, arms wide as Chelsie trails in toe. Her steps are careful as she balances a cake in her grasp, before momentarily flashing me a grin as Wilks pulls me into his grasp.

He’s always been a hugger.

“Happy birthday, Hazel!” I’m suffocated by muscle and an oversized hoodie, forcing a wheeze out of me as he pulls back. “Oh, C’mon, I’m not that strong!” he jokes. “Now, remind me, how old are you today, Hazel?” He tilts his head in interest. “Twenty-two?”

“We’re the same age, Wilks.” I shake my head in playful annoyance. “Though…” I fold my arms across my chest. “It’s clear to see that those two months you’ve got on me are finally starting to catch up when it comes to your memory. Is he always this forgetful, Chels?” I flash her a sneaky look.

She bites down on her bottom lip to suppress a smirk. “He knows better than to be,” she jokes, prompting Wilks to playfully roll his eyes as he reaches for the cake out of her grasp. “Nuh-uh,” she scolds him, pulling back. “I’m on cake duty. You're on present duty, remember?”

“Presents?” I immediately object, almost cringing at the word. “No, no, you guys didn’t have to get me anything. Seriously,” I tell them. “Just being all together is all I wanted.”

“Yeah, well, that’s lame,” Wilks fires back. “Besides, you think Green would’ve allowed us to show up empty-handed?” He raises his hand in his direction. “The guy literally wanted step-by-step updates on your cake today. I mean, he’s been so gung-ho on making this your best birthday ever that he even made you a?—”

A not-to-subtle stomp on the top of Wilks’ foot is what brings him to a stop as Chelsie glares in his direction. Usually, when Wilks starts to ramble, I try not to pay too much attention toward it, but given that this wasn’t so much a ramble but rather a confessional, I sort of wish Chelsie had allowed him to continue.

What does he mean by making this my best birthday ever? Better question: what did he make me?

My head swivels back toward the door, where Green continues to stand, awkwardly trying not to make eye contact with me like a school-aged kid trying not to get picked on. It doesn’t matter though, I’m not interested in reading into his averting gaze, I’m more interested in the scene behind him.

Laid out along the hallway and into the family room are balloons, streamers and a plethora of other decorations spread about. But what stands out the most? Plastered along the back wall is a poster with the words ‘Happy Birthday, Haze.’

Greenie.

“How about we go inside, huh?” Hart proposes, snapping me free from the thought.

His simple request transports me back to the party exactly a week ago, where the same thing was said, only this time, as my eyes inevitably ricochet in Green’s direction, he agrees willingly and holds out the door even wider for me to step in.

“Come on,” he tells me, his voice soft as I take a step inside. “Let’s let your party begin. After all…” he pauses. “I’ve got some more making up to do, don’t I,bug?”

I roll my tongue along the inside of my cheek as I brush past him. “It’s a good thing you’re off to a good start already…”

“Chelsie saidthat you lent her one a while ago and I thought…” Wilks continues to wrap a cozy winter scarf around my neck. “Rather than return what’s old.” He nestles back into Chelsie’s side. “Let’s get you one that’s brand new!”

“And custom,” Chelsie adds, flashing me a warm yet tender smile. “After all…” She purses her lips playfully. “Green has always been your color.”

Heat rises to my cheeks as I playfully roll my eyes, now a soft laughter falling amongst the group—the large group—it’s as if everyone and their mother has turned out for my birthday.

Though, amidst all of the eyes that fall onto me as I snuggle into my Crawfield scarf, I can’t help but catch a glimpse of Green, not the color as it surrounds my frame, but the man himself, re-adjusting in his seat as Amira pulls him in close.

Her presence today doesn’t come as a shock to me. I knew she’d be here, the two of us talked about her attending my party shortly before Hart picked me up today.

She insisted that she didn’t need to come and that in no way, shape or form, would she be offended if I told her not to. I’m not sure how she’s managed to come to the conclusion that she’s the problem, but the reality is, she’s far from it.

She’s done nothing wrong yet perfectly fall victim to mine and Green’s not-so-eloquent plan. It’s Green that’s been out of the routine, so when I shrugged off her offer and apologized for the distance between the two of us, placing the blame on stress, she almost immediately went right back to her old chipper self.

I’ve tried my best to avoid watching how she’s been kissing up on Green’s cheek all night long. Hart, who’s been doingthe exact same thing to me, has helped me with that and I’m confident that Green’s been no stranger to the gesture.

I don’t know what this all means. It’s like the two of us are playing a game, one with no rules, motive or meaning, but somehow, someway, we’re both so involved—invested almost.

How is it that no matter the affection of our significant others, nothing else seems to catch us both off guard quite like catching each other's gaze? I’m exhausted even just trying to process it.

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