One Chapter Ends

Chapter Eighteen

you mourn because they were your future

but they were ripped away

as if you never had them in the first place

and now you must go on

Hazel had seen break-ups on TV many times in her life. Who hadn't? They had always ended in the same way, with the girl on the couch or in her bedroom, eating junk food and watching movies while crying. Or worse: not eating at all and just lying on her bed watching the ceiling fan spin, or sleeping.

She'd always thought they were grossly exaggerated. But in fact, they were the one thing that TV didn't enhance.

After she'd cried herself dry, Melanie had gotten her up off the floor and made her go have a shower and brush her teeth, insisting it would make her feel better, or at least more hygienic. Having changed into her pyjamas, she'd refused all offers of dinner – she hadn't been at all hungry – and went to bed, falling into an unsettled sleep almost immediately.

The morning after was no better. The icy numbness – shock, she realised now – had given way to burning feelings of misery, which made Hazel wish for the shock to come back. Her mother had forced her to eat a piece of toast and drink a glass of water with two Panadol, even though Hazel hadn't really been able to feel the pounding headache she supposedly had from crying.

She'd told her mum what had happened while she sobbed, but her parents hadn't tried to ask her about it since. Both of them had been extremely gentle with her, handling her as if she was made of glass. She didn't question it. All she felt was relief that she wouldn't have to answer intrusive questions about the break-up yet.

Showering, brushing her teeth, dressing and driving to the bookstore all took more effort than she felt able to give, but she managed each of the tasks by focusing all her energy on them, one by one.

Renée and Charlotte had shown up at around nine-thirty, giving Hazel half an hour to open the store and pull herself together. Even so, she couldn't stop thinking about Theo. She tried to think about other things – the open day; her story, the outline for which she'd written out on the Notes app on her phone – but he hovered in the back of her mind, always present with his flat green stare.

Charlotte was a completely different teenager to the one Hazel had met outside Untitled that first day. She had her quiet moments, during which she often hid in the back of the store and read – Hazel suspected that in those times, she was thinking of her dad and the upcoming divorce. But most of the time, she chatted, sorted books and greeted customers with the air of someone on top of the world.

Hazel was happy for her, but there was something to be said for being miserable around happy people – it just made her want to curl up on the floor and give in to the waves of sadness that were constantly rolling and breaking.

Theo didn't come in. Not that he had in the days leading up to the break-up, but that had been due to his busy schedule. He's probably avoiding me now, Hazel thought.

She stared at the typewriter in front of her. Her phone was propped up on the desk. She knew if she unlocked it, she'd find the Notes app open to the page she'd written in her car – the outline of her story for the open day. But she couldn't touch it. That story was the reason she'd lost Theo – how could she continue writing it?

But she'd sacrificed everything for it. How could she not write it? It would be worse than cruel if she threw it away now, after everything that had happened.