Hazel Irises

Chapter One

It was five in the morning and the last thing I wanted to do was move across the country to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, but my mother was kicking at my beloved air mattress and persistently using the phrase "fresh start." It was pretty much the only constant in the slurred babble I heard in the form of her voice. Since I was annoyed with her for waking me up, I came to the conclusion that at some point and by some miracle, I had actually fallen asleep after smooching Hazel Jones.

Well, isn't that quite the accomplishment.

"Mom," I groaned, pulling the blanket over my face.

"It's time to go," she said.

"I don't want to go."

"You think I want to drive a U-Haul across the country to Los Angeles, California? I don't. Get up. I got up."

"But you're the one who wants to move."

"Joshua."

"Can't I just live with Anthony for the rest of my life or something?"

"No."

"Can I live here by myself?"

"David! Come talk to your son!"

My mom marched out of the room, dramatically slamming the door behind her.

The following minute was pure bliss, but much to my displeasure, the door opened and part of the mattress was weighed down when my dad sat beside me. I braced myself for the lecture I had coming for me.

"So, you don't want to leave, huh?" he began. His conversation prompts were usually that typical and lame, and usually I tolerated it, but today I was losing patience.

"Obviously not," I snapped. "Would you want to leave your hometown right after being kissed by the love of your life?"

"Ah. A girl," Dad said. Even though my eyes were shut, I could just feel that concerned expression on his face as he tried to figure out what to say next. "Or a guy, I mean, I'm--"

"A girl, Dad. A girl. Go away now."

"You know I won't."

I didn't say anything.

"There's such a thing as the internet, you know. I thought you'd be all up in that. It's not as if you'll be dropping off the face of the planet just because we're going to live in California," Dad said.

His words had comfort embedded in them, but no matter how much I wanted him to just leave, I didn't want to leave New York.

"Yes," I replied. I sat up and looked my father in the eye. "It is. I finally got somewhere with my life like you and Mom are always pestering me about, and now, right after I did what you've been dreaming of for me, it's a problem, and you want to start all over so I can be a loser again."

Okay, I was being a little overdramatic, but with my parents, it's all, nothing, or a little bit of everything.

My father's mouth pressed into a line, clearly unhappy. "This move has nothing to do with you, or Hazel Jones. This is a work thing. Being almost an adult, I'd expect it of you to understand that. Both your mother and I are very disappointed in you."

And then he left.

To avoid further lecturing, I rolled off the air mattress and stood up, looking in the temporary mirror hung on the back of my door. I looked like I felt--tired, unexcited, and 99% done with everything. Before leaving the bedroom to go eat something, I called Hazel. I waited for her voicemail message just so I could hear her voice, half-hoping she'd pick up. I had no idea what to say if she did.

It clicked. "Oh, my God, Hazel, you have no idea how much I need to say to you--first things first, I feel like we should talk about that kiss. Did you know it was my first kiss? And your lips tasted like strawberries, like, you're a really good kisser. Also, did that mean anything? It meant stuff for me. On my part. Like, it meant I love you because I really, really do--"

"Josh."

Hazel's voice sounded like land felt to the pilgrims. Relief coursed through my veins.

"Hazel," was all I could say after spilling all that I just said.

"Josh, I..."

Nobody said anything. I counted the seconds. The silence lasted a full minute.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. The phone clicked again, ending our conversation.

I wanted to cry.

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The first day of our U-Haul road trip to California was not a fun one.

Being skinnier than both my parents, I was forced to sit between them in the truck, which meant that I had to endure their bickering. My parents didn't fight often. They just had small complaints about most of the things that existed on the planet--for example, drive-through restaurants.

My parents try to stay classy, neat, and presentable as much as they can help it, which was why they had a problem with greasy, unhealthy fast food. But we were on a tight schedule, so popping into a McDonald's to grab some quick lunch was what we had to do, no matter how much they despised the prospect. I didn't have much of a problem with fast food myself.

However, they had a problem with it, so each time we pulled into the parking lot of a Burger King or McDonald's, I had to hear it about how gross every little detail about the restaurant was. I knew better than to be annoyed by my parents, though. I simply blocked them out as if I couldn't be bothered by their constant complaints.

At the end of the day, we would crash in a nice hotel, which would be hell for me if it didn't have free WiFi. The problem with nice hotels is that I'm afraid to break or touch anything. It was different from our apartment in New York because it wasn't mine and I didn't have the authority to get a single trace of my DNA on anything, so I constantly worried about if whatever I was about to do was okay. Could I turn on the TV? Could I take a shower? Could I drink my water bottle?

And that's how the rest of our trip went--sit in between bickering in the car, listen to bickering in the restaurant, have peace and quiet in a fancy hotel, and repeat the next day of our four-day journey.

Except the last day, when I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about Los Angeles. I'd seen pictures of our new apartment--it was a lot like our last one: nice, clean, classy. Downtown. It wasn't home, but I wasn't concerned about that. I was thinking about school. I was going to be an outcast, no doubt. It took me a long time to make friends in New York. I hoped it wouldn't be the same way in Los Angeles.

There was always the idea that there might be another Hazel Jones waiting for me in the new city. I doubted that anyone could replace Hazel.

But I wasn't one to let go of hope, so for the rest of the ride, I looked out over the road and daydreamed of another Hazel.

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Author's Note

Hi there! That chapter wasn't really my best, but I had to have something to start with. I did revise the heck out of this, though. I hope you liked it. I'll be leaving an A/N at the end of every chapter, just so I can check in with you guys, and if you're on mobile, then you can comment on this paragraph to let me know how you liked the chapter and what you're expecting out of the next one.

Anyway, thank you for reading. This is gaining reads quicker than the other books I've written (and scrapped...), so I have a lot of hope for this story. Don't forget to vote, comment, and add to your library for any updates! Take care ♥