No Time Like Goodbye

Chapter 11- Hazel

I woke early the next morning and checked my phone, hoping against hope that Dylan had come to some realization and decided to explain to me why he had rushed out. But now, there was nothing on but a text from Fahari ask if I was free.

I replied to her text with a simple yes, sighing to myself. There must have been a reason Dylan said that, right? I mean, he wouldn't have just blurted that out for no reason.

I dressed in silence, no noise breaking the impenetrable loneliness that permeated my room. I felt, hollow. Empty. Like there was something suddenly missing from my life.

No one in my family was yet awake when I opened my bedroom door. No noise was audible as I left my room and padded down the stairs, my bare feet making little noise on the carpet.

I made breakfast for the entire family, eggs and bacon waiting on the table for whoever got up first. As I worked, I dialed Fahari's number, waiting for her to answer.

"Hello? Hazel, do you have any idea what time it is?" Fahari's voice was thick with sleep as she answered, her words coming slow.

"I am well aware of what time it is. It's nearly nine o'clock, why are you still in bed?" I forced myself to sound cheerful, but I knew that even in her barely-awake state, Fahari could always tell when I was lying.

"That doesn't matter. What's wrong?" All it took was one small lie to make Fahari suddenly wide awake.

"Nothing. It's nothing, I promise. Listen, are you free today? I need someone to take my mind off of things."

I knew she wanted to ask what happened so bad, but thankfully she held her tongue. "Yeah, sure. I'll pick you up in an hour?"

"That sounds perfect. I'll be waiting. And Fahari? Thank you." I hung up without waiting for her reply, setting my phone as soon as I set the table for breakfast. I tried to regain some of that happiness I have felt just the day before, but felt that emotion slipping through my fingers as quickly as I tried to reclaim it.

20 minutes or so later, Matthew drug himself down the stairs, looking like he had died and come back to life over the duration of the night. His hair stuck out at all angles, and he walked with a sort of lurching gait, his eyes half open. I set plate of food in front of him without a word, forcing a smile for him.

Neither of us said a word, as we both know I was a terrible liar, and could never pull off a fake smile. But Matthew was either too tired to care or just didn't, and I wasn't going to bring it up.

When my parents finally walk down the stairs, I hid myself away in the family room, just simply sitting on the sofa and thinking. Would I really be able to tell Fahari when it happened? I didn't know. I trusted her almost as much as I trust to Dylan, but this was something you couldn't just tell someone. It seemed almost too personal to speak out loud.

The girl I called one of my closest friends pulled into my drive a half hour later, honking the horn to let me know she was there. I tossed a goodbye over my shoulder as I walked out the door, not looking back once.

Fahari grinned at me with that always present happiness and positivity, but it melted a bit when she saw my face. She must have been able to tell something was up.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said simply as I slid into the passenger's seat. She nodded and didn't press me.

"Alright. We're not going to talk about it right now. But we're going to talk about it."