what could go wrong

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"what could go wrong?" lawrence says.
famous last words, i think.
"lots of things." i laugh sarcastically.
"just talk to her." he pushes.
we're in the lunchroom, finishing up our meals when suddenly, someone is throwing their stuff down on the table and plopping down next to me. i look up, startled, and see malachi.
"i'm so done with miss harlock. she always gives us too much homework, and we have two english tests this week! she has it out for me, i'm telling you." he says, resting his head in his hands.
i pat malachi's back lightly. "sorry mate." i say after exchanging a look with lawrence, who is holding back a laugh.
"it's not funny!" mal exclaims, looking up at lawrence. lawrence holds his hands up defensively.
"it'll get better. term's almost over, and we've got bank holiday next week. plus, harlock hates everyone." i attempt to console.
"'cept that hazel girl." malachi says after a moment, looking calmer now yet still agitated. "teacher's pet." he pauses. "ah, speak of the devil."
i look up and see her--the same girl lawrence was urging me to talk to--walking with her lunch tray, still full of food, towards the trash bin.
"aye, i'll eat that if you don't want it." lawrence says, rather loudly, as she passes.
"you can shut your mouth." hazel replies, sounding bored. malachi laughs and i look down, cringing.
"that's the girl you like?" lawrence says, shocked expression on his face. i shrug.
"wait, you like hazel shannon?" malachi pipes up. i shush him, then shrug again. then i grab my rucksack and make my way toward the door. "we're not done with this conversation!" he calls after me, calling far too much attention to us. i roll my eyes and get to my next class.

hazel is in three of my classes: english, biology, and history. she's basically the only reason i stay awake there, as they're the most dull and tedious classes to me.
i also share history with malachi, who just so happens to sit next to hazel a few desks in front of me. today during history, my second to last class of the day, my phone vibrates in my pocket and i dare a look at it.
dude meet me by ur locker i gotta tell y somethig it reads; a text from mal.
i look at him, and he keeps looking from me to hazel sitting next to him. he catches my gaze and raises his eyebrows. i shrug and look back to the teacher, waiting anxiously for the clock to turn to 1:45.
six more minutes.
five.
four, three, two, one. the bell finally rings, students shuffle out, and i lose track of malachi in all the people. i walk down the hall to my locker and he's already there, shifty-eyed and anxious like he's sitting on pins and needles.
"what's up with you?" i ask, slightly worried for the red-headed boy.
"hazel. you shouldn't like her. she's crazy." he says quickly, taking little to no breaths in between the short sentences.
holding my hands up defensively, i struggle to find words. i guess the puzzled look on my face is enough.
"she's proper mad. off 'er rocker. belongs in the looney bin," mal continues, red-faced and wide-eyed.
"what are you saying?" i feel myself getting more upset as he keeps talking--this girl he's describing, that's not hazel at all.
now i'm not all buddy-buddy with hazel, but i've talked to her enough times to know she's not mad like mal is saying. and it makes me angry.
"i saw her writing in her notebook during history. like, not a normal notebook, it was like a diary. she was writing words like 'depressed' and 'disappear' and i dunno man, she might be suicidal. i'd keep my distance."
my first instinct is to hit him, honestly. but i calm myself, and instead shrug and tell him i'll check it out.
"don't mention my name!" he says as i walk away.

i plot through my last class of the day how i could talk to hazel--a part of me feels like i have to, for some reason. fortunately we have almost the same route home, so i keep an eye out for her when i leave the building and follow distantly behind her when she starts walking away.
she doesn't stop to talk or walk to or with anyone, and frankly i haven't pinned anyone at this school as her friend. she just clutches her book bag and stares down at the ground.
i keep repeating mantras of false confidence to myself--'you can do it, she's just a girl, what'll go wrong', like lawrence said--and i finally just force myself.

"hazel?"

she turns around suddenly, eyes wide and face red. she's been crying, evidenced by her bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"finlay, hey." her voice is rough, further proving she's been crying. she clears her throat as i ask, "you okay?"

i stare at her as her mouth twitches, she breaks eye contact and looks down.

"hazel?"

"fin? sometimes i think how much better off my parents would've been without me."

I LEFT THIS OFF AT THE WORST TIME WHY DID I PICK THIS TIME TO STOP WRITING (this was written a few months ago just for reference) IM SO SORRY

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