Page 5 of Never Nix Up

This isn’t about me. This isn’t about what I would like to do for her, to her. It’s about Hazel and right now that just means holding a safe space for her to exist in.

I don’t know how long we sit there. Longer than minutes, though the shadow of the sun across the front of the shop implies longer than I realise. Because this is good for me too. Good to just stop and take stock of everything life has to give.

Blue eyes blink open.

“Hazel?”

And then she’s leaning across the booth, grabbing my collar to pull me closer and kiss me.

5

Hazel

Idon’t know why I’m kissing Finn.

No. That’s a lie. I knowexactlywhy I’m kissing her, and it has nothing to do with how hot she is. Because sheishot, with purple hair shorn into a fade, and that casually confident way she holds herself. And she cancook.

But this kiss isn’t about her cooking and instead has everything to do with who she is.

I don’t let people in. Haven’t done so in a very long time and somehow Finn and Chlo and Violet have gotten under my skin, made themselves a part of my life without me even realising it, and now that I need tostop?

She knew.

She understood without me even explaining. Because what is there to explain?Hey Finn, I keep having murder dreams in which my parents are killing me. Drowning me because one more sacrifice might bring back the Goddess I now work for.

I spent all day painting for Trisantona, and though she was concerned for me in her own way, she still made demands of me—I’m not sure that she knows how not to. And my magic isn’t as powerful as Chlo’s or as my family’s. My magic is all in my art and I’ve been painting so much that I think I might break.

There’s a knock on the door and we break apart, Finn wide eyed and staring at me. “Hazel… you…”

“I kissed you.” I’m feeling emboldened, like someone other than the skittish woman who hides in corners and tries to take up less and less space.

“Yes, you did.”

There’s a spark of something in her gaze that makes me want to duck my head, to go back to hiding, but I steel myself and keep looking at her. “And I’d like to do it again.”

Another knock on the door, and we drag our eyes away from each other and towards whoever is interrupting this moment. Chlo and Violet are outside, and I suddenly remember that we were supposed to be having another meeting about the Spring Equinox this evening.

“Stay right there,” Finn mutters, as she slides out of the booth and over to the door. I’m still standing, my arms braced on the table, and I turn and nod a greeting to them both as the bell over the bakery door rings.

Violet is in through the door before Finn even has a chance to say anything, making her way over to me. “Hazel? Are you okay?”

Chlo follows, but at a more sedate pace, but I can see that she too is worried.

“I know something’s not right.” Violet is gazing into my face, and it feels awkward. Finn is completely perplexed, and I don’t blame her. This is weird behaviour.

“How do you know?” Finn is completely oblivious to the fact that Violet’s essentially a de facto acolyte for our local river goddess. I hadn’t considered that—just as I can tell when her and Chlo are getting frisky in the river (which is entirely too often, if you ask me) —Violet can sensemypower fluctuations.

And my power spiked today.

Too high.

All the calm that had descended when I closed my eyes for Finn is beginning to dissipate, and I want to cling onto her, and ask her for protection.

Finn steps in between the two of us, and puts her hands on her hips. “Stop it, Vi. You’re not helping.” We all know that there’s more to Vi than the sunshine-y persona she puts on for the world to see, but she is more intense now that any of us have seen her. Well, bar Chlo, from the way her nix girlfriend is standing at her side.

Chlo puts a restraining arm on Vi’s shoulder and gives her a look.

“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on? Chlo, what the fuck?” Chlo avoids Finn’s stare and it’s not fair, especially not fair when Finn turns to me and there’s more than confusion in their eyes. There’s hurt.

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