The Girl On The Roof

Memories

I remember the first time Hazel and I spoke to each other. She was tired of the school day that was already taking forever, and hardly attempted at a conversation. I, on the other hand, was too nervous to even open my mouth.

We were all supposed to discuss how best to deliver our presentations, but when Mrs. Berkely assigned an assignment everyone always just went on their phones. We didn't do that, as we were good, responsible students. However, we didn't do our project either.

Hazel was tying her hair tie into little knots, until the entire string was a long line of complicated twists. She seemed pretty focused on that, so I didn't disrupt, that is, until I couldn't take the silence any longer.

"So what do you think we should do about this project—"

"Why were you watching me through the window last night?" She asked suddenly, picking her head up from her now completed string of knots.

I felt my heart lurch horribly, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. "Uh," I stuttered. "Uh... what? I—that's ridiculous, I wasn't—"

"I could feel you staring from my house before I opened up my window," she said solemnly, watching me carefully from where she sat at her desk. "And I don't know about you, but I don't appreciate when people stare so intensely at me that they could melt a hole through my head."

I couldn't think of a response; my brain was going in such slow motion I felt as if I were dying. I thought for sure that I was; Hazel had that quality that made you want to die when she was mad. In the end I just sat where I was, dumbfounded, with my mouth hanging open as if I had something to say.

I wish I did.

"Now, we can have this conversation one of two ways." Hazel began stacking her books on top of each other, which could have been her getting ready to leave, or a tactic to make herself look intimidating. Either way, it freaked the crap out of me. "You can break down into tears and apologize at my unforgiving feet, or be a total ass and not apologize at all. Today I'm feeling rather sympathetic, so your choices are better than the usual." She stacked the last of her books and gave me a cold, calculating stare.

I blinked at her. The usual? Break down into tears? Was she serious? There was no way in hell I was apologizing to her dirty boots, and I definitely didn't want to be dead to the girl. "Is there any way we can compromise?" I asked hopefully.

Hazel regarded me for what felt like forever before crossing her arms. "Alright. You seem like a good kid... or at least good enough. I'll give you a break. But at some point in your life you're going to have to kiss my feet."

"Kissing your feet was never one of the options," I was quick to point out. A flicker of a smile formed at the corners of her lips, and I felt my fear of her instantly melt away, only a small portion remaining.

"Alright, Mr. Smarty. Let's get started then, shall we?"