Hazel Irises

Prologue

Snow had begun to fall at midnight. I watched it, aloof as the people around me cheered and kissed and drank champagne. For the first minute of the new year, I remained alone.

It didn't last long.

An arm threw itself over my shoulder. I looked down and saw Hazel and her freckles, grinning brightly and, as per usual, looking ridiculously attractive. "Need a good luck kiss?" she joked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Well, I thought she was joking, since I had never told her how much I liked her, how I felt when she looked at me. The gesture made me slightly uncomfortable--she was so pretty and so nice to me, to everyone. But she always ended up with a jerk for a boyfriend. You know, the typical star football player that only dates a girl because "she's hot" or whatever.

Which was why I was in full shock when she stood on her tiptoes and started leaning dangerously close, all the while piercing my brown eyes with her green ones.

And then we were kissing.

And it was awesome.

I opened my eyes as we pulled apart. And then we went in for another.

►◄►◄►◄

For the rest of the party, as I slinked around near the windows watching everyone mingle, I wondered if it was obvious at all that I had taken pride in having that little make-out session with my lifelong crush. I wondered a couple other things, too, like if she liked me back, or if she just had to do that before I left, or if she was just screwing with me because her best friend dared her to. Hazel Jones really was a puzzle.

The doorman was gone when I entered our apartment building. My mind was still blurred from the party, the only clear picture of Hazel, and how pretty she looked, and, of course, the kissing.

Don't suppose she knew it was my first kiss?

I pushed the elevator button to to go up. The doors opened immediately, and the first thing I noticed was that the elevator attendant was gone, too.

I had thought that leaving one party and having to sleep through my parents' would be difficult, but as I opened the door to the apartment, it became clear to me that sleep was far out of the realm of possibility. It was bad enough that I was pretty much kiss-drunk, but the apartment was filled with my parents' friends milling about, sipping on champagne and chatting like elegant little weasels. Just knowing of their presence outside my bedroom door would make me seethe all night long. I tried my best to avoid contact with them and attempted to slip back into my bedroom, or even better, the kitchen, but of course, I had to be stopped.

"Joshua!" a voice called. I looked around and saw Mrs. Wood, my mom's best friend. Or flaky friend. Everyone ritzy was flaky, actually. It made me wish my parents didn't have such a high status.

Mrs. Wood always had her dirty blonde hair in a tight bun and had some kind of expensive purse hanging on her shoulder. Tonight she wore one of those "classic little black dress" things and some pearls, toting a bag you could fit several chihuahuas in. She was one of those people that insisted you call her by her first name--Cheryl--even though she wanted to be called Mrs. Wood.

"How are you, my dear?" Mrs. Wood asked, enveloping me in a hug.

"Oh," I stuttered as my mind circled back to the kiss. "Fine, thanks." I hoped she'd take the hint that I wanted to be left alone, but that was a lot to ask, considering she was Mrs. Wood, and with her, everything was Such A Big Deal.

"Annette! Joshua just got here!" she called to one of her rich old lady friends.

"Mrs. Wood--er, Cheryl--I really have to go..." I said, my voice trailing off as my mom's book club friends came running, gushing about how long it's been and how tall I am and how handsome I look. I stood there sheepishly, responding "yes ma'am" or "no ma'am" to their stupid questions like Oprah gives away expensive items.

Finally, my mom came. "Hello, Joshua," she said coldly. She took a sip of champagne. "Shouldn't you be getting to bed?"

"Aw, Laura!" whined one of the ladies. "We just wanted to say hello."

"My son doesn't like fusses." Meaning she didn't like the attention being diverted away from her.

With that, I left and entered my barricade of Josh, which didn't look much like my bedroom anymore. It was more like just an empty room, its bare maroon walls taunting me. My laptop sat in the corner, charging, and an air mattress was stuck in the middle of the floor, which had acted as my bed for the last week and a half. Before going to sleep, I opened my laptop and wished everyone on Facebook a happy new year. Then I shut my eyes and thought of Hazel.