The Eyes That Never Lie // Sequel to "The Fault In Our Stars", by John Green

CHAPTER ONE

The evening before another big possibility knocked on my door, I was just sitting on the grass in my porch, like everyday, having an intense conversation with myself in my head, about a particular topic that I was bound to think of, everyday- death.

Death was always supposed to be the end. But was it always the end only for the one dying?

Eight months ago, it was the end for him. But it pretty much ended everything for me too. With him, I was having the time of my life, without ever realizing it. With him, I started admiring the wonders of existence. With him, I decided not to deny myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. With him, I was living. Now, there was just a beating heart.

I was interrupted in my thoughts by my Mom's bawling over the fact that we had a visitor, but I didn't care. Wasn't that obvious?

"There she is. Just keep walking straight, and you'll find each other," I heard my Mom's distant voice. She sounded rather cheerful. Or so she tried.

I turned my neck to see who it was. The dark blonde hair seemed too familiar. I was surprised at the fact that I was actually surprised to see who it was. I walked over to him, and helped him sit in the spot next to me. "Hi," he said sheepishly. "Hey Isaac," I replied. Isaac and I hadn't really seen each other much after Augustus' funeral. I shuddered to even think of it. After that, I attended a couple sessions of the support group, but then I stopped going.

He didn't say anything, so I asked how he was doing and what brought him here. "I don't know man, I just, just kind of remembered you, I guess," he said, "I was missing him a lot today, and I couldn't really talk to his family much about him. So I figured I could talk to you." "You know you can always talk to me, Isaac," I assured him. 

"How are you, Hazel?" he asked and his voice sounded very genuine, like he really cared. It wasn't like Isaac. I mean, he was the kind of person who cared a lot, but didn't usually show it. "I don't know how to answer that," I muttered. For the first time in a long time, I answered that honestly.  He did not ask any more questions, and I was grateful.

We kept sitting there in silence for some time, as I watched the sunset. "It's a very pretty sunset," I said, instantly regretting it. He smirked. "I'm sure it is."

***

"You still have my number though, right?" Isaac asked, when he was on my doorstep. "Yeah. Yeah, of course I do," I answered, even though I wasn't really sure. I reluctantly said goodbye to him. We did not know when we were gonna see each other again, if we even would. But it was really nice talking to him that day. We didn't talk about anything important, but it just felt good. I felt like I was out of my head for sometime. 

"See that's the effect talking to people has on you," Mom remarked. I rolled my eyes. She stood there, with her arms crossed, telling me, "Don't react like that, Hazel. You straight up refuse to even look at people, let alone talk to them. You stopped going the support group ages ago, and you even left school." "I'm gonna die anyways, Mom, why should I waste my remaining time on meaningless education," I said, nonchalantly. 

"That's totally irrelevant, Hazel," she told me.

I had to admit, my Mom had changed a lot. If I said that a year ago, she would get all teary-eyed and be like, "Don't say that, Hazel! You are not gonna die; you'll always be our precious girl!" and whatnot. 

But I was going to die. If not from cancer, I would still die. And so would she, so would Dad. So would all the other kids that go to Support Group. There was no denying that.

"What I'm saying is that," she continued, "Talking to people actually does help. I've seen that with my own eyes, just now. And so did you. Be honest with me, were you not happy that Isaac came over?" "Yes I was! That was because he is an old friend, Mom. I do not really have any other close friendships, or any kind of friendships," I exclaimed.

"Then make some!" Mom told me, "Go to that support group, where you met Augustus when you were depressed, by the way. Let alone that, go to the grocery store, at least!"

I hoped she hadn't brought that up.  For the millionth time, I told her, "I wasn't depressed, Mom."

She threw her hands up in the air, gesturing that she gave up. She gave up trying to persuade me, trying to make me "move on".

As I lay on my bed that night, I couldn't help wondering. Was it really that easy to move on? Could you just start going out and talk to people and engage in stuff, and it would all be over? How was that possible? People who forget the loss of people they loved, have they ever really loved them if it was so easy to forget about them?

Could we really ever let people go, completely? 

A/N: Hiii guysss! I have been thinking about this sequel for a very long time, and it's actually pretty nice putting it to work! This was the first chapter, and I hope you liked it. I hope it keeps getting better. I mean I'll try, definitely. =)

Constructive criticism is appreciated. Please support me as an author.

Thanks a ton for giving my book a chance <3 

-Z