Page 81 of Just Friends

Finally, Stevie says, “Fine, we can keep playing. But if you punch me for an airplane again, I’m punching you back.”

“Deal,” I say, holding back laughter once again.

We’re quiet for a long time after that. So long that the night seems to stretch on forever, as vast and endless as the sky itself. Then Wren says, “Tell us why you’re scared to start something with Alex.”

Right now, I’m not scared. Right now, I don’t think I could be scared of anything. Under the never-ending night sky, my problems seem unimportant. My fears are like stars that will disappear come morning, fading out in the sunshine.

But I force myself to face the dark part of myself, the one that has scars that were patched but never healed. The part that is raw and hurt and trying so hard not to feel or get too close to that pain again.

“Everyone leaves me,” I say.

“Youleft,” Stevie says, and I almost get the sense that she didn’t mean to. I turn my head to the right to look at her. Her dark hair falls all around her, looking like ink against the pale blue of the quilt.

“I did leave,” I say. “I went for Cam. I was hurting after Oliver broke up with me after graduation, and I wasstillhurting after Cam moved away, so I just…left too. It felt good to be someplace new, tobesomeone new, I think.”

“What do you mean?” Wren asks softly.

I let out a breath. “Being far away from the things that hurt me back home made it easier to forget them. But then my friends in LA slowly started moving back to their hometowns or out to the suburbs, or they started hanging out with other friend groups, and I saw them less and less. The same happened with the few guys I dated. Then it was mostly just Wes, Cam, and me. And then they…”

“They moved to Nashville,” Wren fills in for me.

“But I still had Sebastian,” I say. “And for a while, that felt like enough. Maybe my family and friends lived on the other side of the country, but I hadhim. And I loved him. Gosh, I loved him so much.” My voice cracks.

Wren slips her hand through mine and Stevie nestles closer.

“And then you know what happened there,” I say, sniffling. “And I ran again. I followed Cam, who is probably sick of me at this point.”

Stevie lets out a small laugh, and I do too, thinking of my brother, who welcomed me into his new apartment in Nashville with open arms—literally. He let me cry on his shirt for two days before he finally said he needed to get some work done.

And then Alex was there, wiping my tears and bringing me cartons of ice cream to binge.

“What if Alex figures out what everyone else has?” I whisper into the night sky. “What if he realizes I’m not worth sticking around for?”

Stevie sits up, her hair falling around her like a sheet. “Hazel Lane. Tell me right now that you don’t believe that.”

I stare up at her and Wren, who is now sitting up next to her. They wear matching expressions of disbelief and hurt that I can barely make out in the moonlight. I sit up so they’re no longer staring down at me and wrap my arms around my bent knees.

“I don’t know,” I say, my voice choked. “I know Ishouldn’tbelieve it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t.”

Wren sniffles next to me, and I look over to see tears falling down her cheeks. “Honey, why haven’t you ever mentioned this?”

My shoulders lift in a shrug. “It’s a terrible thing to think. A terrible thing tofeel, and I don’t know…” A shaky sigh slips from between my lips. “I don’t want anyone to see the ugly parts of me if the pretty parts aren’t enough to keep them around.”

“Hazel,” Wren breathes, and for the second time that night, two sets of arms wrap around me, holding me tight. They feel like the anchors keeping me steady in the midst of this storm.

A heavy knot forms in my throat at their murmuredI love yous, and I think I might break apart because of it.Thisis the secret piece of me I’ve kept locked up and hidden, desperate for no one to find or else they might turn away from it. But my two oldest friends are here, weathering it and telling me they love me in spite of it. Becauseof it.

A tiny bud of hope blooms in my chest.

Adamknocksonmycar window on Monday morning, jarring me from my texts with Hazel. I was unsure of what the next three weeks would look like between us after the confession I made yesterday, but this morning, she texted me first thing, saying she had a dream that she was a dairy cow who befriended a time-traveling dragonfly and asked if that would make a good children’s book. I actually laughed out loud into the quiet of my apartment, somehow missing her, even though she’s only been gone for a day.

It’s been good, but also slightly nerve-racking. I meant it when I said I’d give her all the time she needed to figure this out, but I can’t deny that the waiting feels like standing completely naked in front of a crowd—exposed and vulnerable. Hazel knows all my soft spots now, and even though I know she’d never purposefully hurt them, she has the power to.

Turning off the car, I swing the door open. Adam quirks a brow. “What were you smiling about?”

“Scientists have found a solution to global warming.”

He rolls his eyes, falling into step beside me as we walk toward the gym. “What are you doing today?” he asks when the blast of cold air from the AC hits us in the face.

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