ik u guys missed me.
HAZELS POV
As we strolled along the corridor, Josie and PJ engaged in a casual conversation that piqued my interest. "By the way," Josie mentioned with a nonchalant shrug, "Kaylee is throwing a party."
PJ, clearly unimpressed, quirked an eyebrow and responded, "And?"
"We're invited," Josie continued, her excitement palpable. "Isabel and I are definitely going."
"And?"
"And you guys should come too."
PJ's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What would we do there? I can already picture you and Isabel making out in a room, leaving me alone with Hazel." PJ groaned at the thought.
Josie chuckled, "Come on, PJ! Its gonna be fun! i heard she invites many hot women"
PJ sighed, considering the proposition. "Fine, I guess I could use a night out. But if I end up babysitting Hazel the entire time, I'm blaming you."
"what the fuck? you don't have to babysit me I'm a fucking teen." I retorted with an eye roll, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement. PJ chimed in with a skeptical, "Yeah, right."
As we continued our stroll, it happened again – an accidental encounter with her. For the seventh time today, our paths crossed, and I couldn't help but wonder if the universe was playing some cosmic joke on me. The more I tried to avoid her, the more she seemed to materialize wherever I went, even in my dreams.
There she was, looking absolutely breathtaking, and I couldn't deny the impact of her laughter. It echoed in my ears, transporting me back to the times she had laughed at my lamest jokes. It was a reminder of her terrible sense of humor, yet somehow endearing in its own way. Those moments flooded back, and I found myself caught between the exasperation of trying to evade her and the magnetic pull of the memories we shared.
I lay on my bed, flipping through the pages of my journal. It struck me – the entire journal was a about her, filled with entries about her and us. I couldn't help but wonder, why was I torturing myself this way?
"She's incredibly pretty."
"Well, she looks just like every other redhead."
"And I love her red hair."
"I don't really like redheads; it's just weird."
"Her blue eyes are absolutely unreal."
"Blue-eyed people always seem a bit scary to me."
"And that smile of hers, I love it."
"Nothing special about her smile, really."
"And her voice, its like a romantic song that could go on playing forever. I love it."
"ugh whatever."
"I adore it when she plays the guitar."
"Well, I don't know, maybe I do love it when she plays the guitar."
"And, well, I love her."
"I don't, I hate her. Her mere existence feels suffocating now."
In a burst of frustration, I hurled the journal across the room. As it landed with a thud, I buried my head in a pillow and let out a scream. "I hate myself for the person i've become, especially for someone who didn't even care." i screamed inside the pillow.
