ＴＨＥ ＤＩＮＥＲ || 𝙢𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙜.

chapter 7

Hazel's phone buzzed on her nightstand, jolting her from an uneasy sleep. She picked it up, squinting as she struggled to read the blurry-looking text.

aryyyy💞

(10:46 AM)

can we get coffee

i want 2 talk

Hazel hadn't heard from her friend since the dance. A little confused, she typed up a reply.

(10:47 AM)

sure!

what time?

...

10 mins

She sighed, shutting her phone off.

Valerie had been expelled. The house she'd been staying in was under police investigation. So far, they hadn't found anything. Hazel assumed they were looking for a pistol, or a bloody kitchen knife tucked away in the cupboard. Somewhere in her gut, though, she knew it wasn't a weapon Valerie used to kill Cooper.

Not only that, but ever since the day under the bleachers, Hazel felt Valerie's presence everywhere. No matter where she was, alone, or in a room full of people, the underlying feeling that she was being watched never went away.

She felt it now, as she slipped off her sleep-warmed pajama shirt, which thrilled her just as much as it terrified her.

She got dressed. Quickly, she ran a brush through her mangled hair. Before she left, Hazel lingered in the doorway for a minute, casting a glance over her shoulder. To her relief, no one else was in the room with her. She was alone. At least she hoped she was.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a slow day at the coffee shop.

Hazel sat across from Arya, who was looking rough, to say the least. She had heavy bags under her eyes. Her unwashed hair had been loosely tied into a messy bun. She wore a hoodie paired with sweats, which deviated from her usual outfit of choice (usually something skin-tight or neon-colored). Hazel noticed the glassy, far-off look in her eyes as her friend took a slow sip of coffee, her hands trembling as she held the cold plastic cup to her lips.

"How are you doi—"

"So, Valerie did it?" Arya said hoarsely, cutting Hazel off.

"Um..." Taking her straw, Hazel stabbed at an ice cube bobbing in her frothy drink. "The police don't know anything for sure yet."

Arya's eyebrows jutted up a bit. "Huh. So...Jeremiah said he saw you hanging out with her. Behind the bleachers."

"That was...before I knew."

"Oh my god, Hazel!" Arya slammed her hands against the table, causing the barista behind the counter to jump a little as she whipped up her ten-thousandth caramel macchiato of the day.

"I told you she was dangerous," Arya said, "I told you to stay away from her. God, Hazel, why can't you just listen to me? I was just looking out for you. I mean, what if she..." Her voice dropped to a shaky, panic-stricken whisper. "What if she got you, too?"

"She wouldn't hurt me," Hazel mumbled, picking at a fuzzy on her sleeve. She wasn't quite sure who she was trying to convince, Arya or herself.

Her friend let out a strangled gasp of utter disbelief. "Oh, so...you think that...just because she was nice to you at the dance, just because she gave you a compliment, she wouldn't put a knife to your throat the second she got you alone? Look up any serial killer ever, Hazel. They befriend their victims before they kill them. God, what has gotten into you? Why are you so gullible? Why are you actually defending her? Is she really that manipulative, or are you just that stupid?"

Hazel felt a lump forming in her throat, her eyes welling up with tears. Normally, after saying something so awful, Arya would've gone right to apologizing. But this time, she stood up, pressing her hands into the table.

"Look, I don't know what the hell is going on with you, but you better figure it out fast. Or we can't be friends anymore."

She sighed, glancing down at her phone. "I have to go. I'm late to group therapy."

She was gone before Hazel could even get a word out.