^^^Listen While Reading^^^

This song fits perfectly with this chapter.

~~~

We're about a quarter of the way into the soccer season and so far, Hazel has only missed one game.

As we jog onto the field, I look at the stands, satisfied with the amount of people. In any other setting, I would be nervous being under the scrutinization of so many eyeballs, but when I'm playing my favorite sport, it somehow energizes me.

Our school moved up a division in soccer, so the teams we'll be playing this year are good. But I'm not nervous. We have something a lot of schools don't; our attitude. We also all have very close relationships with each other, making it easy to communicate during games.

During halftime, Coach seems proud of me, but she doesn't show it. We're tied one-to-one, and the game is intense. Once, when the ball is on the other side of the field, I spot Hazel on the bleachers, and she waves to me. My stomach does flips as I smile, and I almost miss when Emilia passes the ball to me. 

This is the third time this week I've been caught staring at her.

Recovering from my mistake, I dribble the ball halfway up the field before attempting to score, but a girl steals the ball before I can. 

I curse under my breath as she passes two of my teammates, but then she also passes two girls on her team, even though they're wide open. I realize what she's doing. She's a ball hog, who thinks she's the best player and refuses to pass it to anyone. Her teammates look frustrated, and one throws her hands up in annoyance. But she doesn't get very far, and we soon have the ball again.

They were a tough team to play against, but we beat them three-to-two all because of their horrible teamwork.

I hug Leah, and Emilia pats me on the back for scoring the winning goal. Maddie raises her hand for a high-five, commenting on the other team's poor sportsmanship, and I laugh.

I subconsciously look at the stands again, and my eyes land on Hazel. But she's not looking in my direction. Instead, a guy with dark fluffy hair and expensive taste in shoes is sitting next to her, talking her ear off. 

He's awfully close to her, and she seems interested in whatever he's saying. I'm not one to hate people before meeting them, but for some reason, my throat fills with immediate detest for the guy. 

Coach's whistle pulls my attention from them, and I jog over to her. She congratulates us for the success of our hard work and praises us for our determination and ability to stay calm and collected. 

We disperse and Leah turns to me, smiling with her eyebrows raised. "Looks like your tutor came to watch you play again," she says, smirking and nodding towards the bleachers. 

"Shut up," I say, but I follow her gaze. Hazel and the guy are standing now, and he's still talking to her. I can see her more clearly now, and she's laughing. My jaw tightens. 

Emilia punches me in the arm. "Quit staring at your crush. You look dumb." I frown at her as Leah laughs, and Emilia holds up a bottle of Gatorade. "This is for you."

I didn't notice how thirsty I was until I saw the bottle. "Thanks." I gasp, taking it from her. Leah hits me on the back and walks away with Emilia, laughing and talking about something stupid. Unscrewing the cap, I down the electrolyte drink in one go. I don't know what causes me to look at the stands for a third time, but I do, and see the guy handing Hazel his phone. 

I narrow my eyes at them.

"Hey, we're gonna go say hi to Jake," Leah says, snapping me out of my thoughts. She's linking arms with a grinning Emilia, and I force a smile at them. Jake is a guy Emilia is currently talking to, and I've voiced multiple times how I think she can do better.

"Okay, cool," I say.

They leave, and I walk to the bench and begin packing my soccer bag. With the crowd thinning, I finish packing, sling my bag over my shoulder, and walk towards the bleachers.

People look at me strangely, but determined as I am, I don't notice them. Hazel's back is to me as I reach them, and she's still talking to the guy. Up close, I recognize him from the guys' football team, whose season ended just a few weeks ago. And I hate to say it, but he isn't ugly.

That, and the way he looks at Hazel, pisses me off. 

I raise an unwarranted hand to Hazel's lower back, and she looks at me, startled.

"Hey, y'all," I say, looking straight at the guy.

He looks confused for a second, then recognition replaces his coy expression. "Hey, Casey, right?" 

I give him a curt nod. "The one and only."

Hazel is wearing a cropped hoodie, which makes me regret doing this because now I can only think about her warm skin beneath my cool fingers. 

She speaks. "This is, um, Liam," Hazel says. "He's in my chemistry class and is really nice."

"Nice to meet you, Liam From Chemistry," I say. 

He thinks it's a joke and laughs. "Nice to meet you, too. And you, Hazel."

After he leaves, Hazel turns to me, her face showing a hint of annoyance. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, my face innocent.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," I say. "Did you get his number?"

"Yes. He asked for it."

I raise my eyebrows. "What, so you just give your number to random people?"

She squints at me. "He's not random. I told you, he's from my chemistry class."

I just shrug. "Seems pretty random to me."

She studies me for a moment with her eyes narrowed, then shakes her head and walks down the steps of the bleachers. "We have another test coming up, so you might want to think about increasing the frequency of your tutoring sessions." She calls without looking behind her.

"Hazel, wait!" I say, running down the steps. She stops, turns, and waits for me to catch up.

"You never told me what you were doing for Thanksgiving," I say.

She looks at me. "Yes, I did."

"You said nothing," I say, studying her face. She nods. "You could come over to Leah's. My grandma is coming over, and she makes the best pumpkin pie."

Hazel's face twists into an apologetic expression. "Oooh, actually, I just remembered I do have plans. Sorry."

I frown. "If you don't want to come, just say that."

"No, I'm serious. I was going to take Landon out."

"Oh. That's cool. I hope he has fun."

"He will."

~~~

On Thanksgiving Day, I leave Leah's house in the afternoon. I had been so excited for my grandmother to show up, but she didn't. She sent a brief text that basically meant she had stood me up for a guy she met in a bar. 

Yeah, my grandmother. She gets around somehow. I guess that's what happens when you have your daughter at such a young age. When she's ready to move out, you try to reclaim the teenage years you missed out on. 

My grandmother had my mom at sixteen.

Even though I understand her reasons, I'm still pretty bummed about it. She used to come over more often and I always saw her as a second mother to me. But recently, I've felt like she doesn't care enough about me anymore.

And I know I have my mom, but I wish she would talk to me like her actual child, and not a coworker she's forced to deal with. But if I asked her, she'd just ask me if my classes were going well, and I'd say yes and the conversation would be over. She doesn't know me, and she doesn't even try to get to know me.

Leah understands that I want to be alone, and lets me leave, but not without giving me a curfew of nine o'clock. 

So I grab my keys and sneak out the back door without saying goodbye to anyone.

I drive for quite a while before ending up at a seasonal marketplace I have been meaning to check out. After parking my car and ensuring it's locked, I walk around the area. It's nicely decorated with fall and winter-themed items, and I think I already see some Christmas-related things.

There's a small hot cocoa stand with benches for people to sit and drink and a store selling cookies shaped like little pumpkins and snowmen. It's all very festive. 

I continue my stroll, and there's a temporary ice skating rink with couples skating holding hands, beginners with their little skate-helper things, and kids whizzing around everyone on their skates. People that I assume are parents stand along the outskirts of the rink, leaning against the side boards talking and watching their kids. It's cute, and I wish I learned how to ice skate. 

Even though I don't have a child or younger sibling to be watching, I lean against the rink walls and look at the kids. Sometimes it's fun to watch other people enjoy themselves.

My eyes linger on one specific kid skating with their friend in a puffy blue jacket. For some reason, they feel familiar.

I watch the kid closely as he races his friend around the rink, and when I catch a glimpse of his face, my heart drops.

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