LOTTIE PULLED UP alongside the curb, stepped outside, and paused. As the sun shone on her face, she closed her eyes and smiled. So far, so good. After opening them, she noted the snow sprinkled around, sure to melt. And up ahead, side-by-side, were two vehicles. One was her friend's; the other was a stranger's. 

Lottie stiffened, making way for the door. She knocked twice, firm but respectful. 

Footsteps shuffled on the other side. The door opened with a creak. 

Her smile returned. "Hazel, so nice to see you!"

Her friend beamed back. "Lottie!" She leaned in, giving a tight squeeze. 

After parting, Lottie looked to her feet, then back at her. "I'm sorry about the random call. I just figured it could be fun."

"Oh, don't apologize! We've been working together for three years. It was about time we hung out." She shifted aside, gesturing her in. "Don't be shy."

Lottie gave her a passing nod. "I saw that car. Who else is here?"

"Just my parents."

"Ah." 

A green-tinted mat was laid out at the door. It read 'We're Glad You're Here' in thick letters. 

"That's a nice rug." Lottie smirked, then observed further. "And this is a nice hallway."

The hallway gave off a minimalist vibe: simple, elegant, and clean. The floors were wooden, shined over, and the walls were a pure white. Several picture frames, held in by nails, were displayed over them. 

"I see you have a thing for art." She wandered over to the nearest frame. In a wonderful era of blue, black, and grey, a ship was painted in the midst of a downpour. The crew was rushing about, helpless, while the captain only watched from down below. "Who made this?"

"Oh, just my mom," Hazel said, nonchalant. "She made all of these."

Lottie's breath hitched. "Really? I thought this was some famous artist."

"Well, she's always practicing, perfecting her pieces. Of course, her natural talent helps, too."

"Y'know, you could make some real money from these."

"You think I don't know that?" She laughed. "Mom just wants them to be enjoyed how they're meant to be enjoyed. If somebody buys them, they might not care for it... or worse."

"What could be worse them that?"

Hazel crossed her arms. "It might be kept in a box, abandoned. That way, not even the guests could enjoy it." A sigh. "They might as well destroy the painting itself!"

"I didn't realize you cared so much about art," Lottie returned. "You must have got that from your mother."

"Ah, yes," Hazel said, smiling. "I remember when I was little, I'd beg for her to hurry. She paints slowly, after all, but I just wanted to see the end result. Whenever she'd finish, I would rush her on the next, never appreciating what she made."

"Kids are like that."

"Yeah, but one day Mom pulled me aside... She taught me a lesson that day."

Lottie tilted her head, mulling it over. "And what was that?"

"She taught me that quality takes time." Hazel nodded, stiff. "I've held onto that lesson ever since."

"I see."

"It doesn't just apply to art, though." Hazel looked her over, eyes kind. "It also applies to hardships. With time, the storm will always pass and you'll learn from it. All it takes is patience."

Lottie's grinned, dropping her gaze. 

"After that call, I knew you were better. I'm glad you let the storm pass."

"Most is back to normal but not everything." Then she looked up, meeting her face. "I never would've called you before. I never would've accepted my scar. I never would've visited my brother... Now that it's all over, I'm finally enjoying life; I'm finally appreciating it."

"You visited your brother?"

"Yes, Hazel, I did."

Hazel smiled back, then nudged her. "Come on, let's go to the living room. We can talk there."

Lottie nodded. "I'd love to."

Her friend went ahead, leading her through the hallway. There were two sets of rooms on either side, quiet and unassuming. When she reached the end, she peered back and smiled. "Now to meet my parents."

For the second time, footsteps shuffled nearby. "Hazel Jay Thompson, I told you not to bring him ov-"

"It's not him, Mom!" Hazel said, casting a glare. "It's just my co-worker."

Her mother stopped just out of sight. "It's not?" A pause. "Excuse me, then. I need to freshen up." She scurried away, disappearing into a room. 

"What was that about?" Lottie asked. 

Hazel turned her way, scratching her head. "She spent the night and is still in a nightgown."

"Ah," Lottie said, covering a smirk. "I see."

"Well, while she does that" - she gestured her forward - "let's see more of the house."

Lottie nodded as she followed. "Where's your father?"

"He's somewhere around these parts," she chuckled. "Probably in the restroom, or something."

"I can't wait to meet him." She prepared a smile before peeking past the hallway. "Yeah, he must be in the restroom, then."

Hazel stepped aside, nodding to the right. "The living room's here."

"The rest of the house is nice, too."

In front of the hallway, there was a kitchen with the basics: a fridge, microwave, toaster, and stove. In its center, pristine but simple, was a white countertop. It was bare excluding the banquet of flowers, either blue or white. 

To the left, meanwhile, was a staircase hugging the walls. 

And to the right-

"Your living room's nice, too." Lottie glanced at her friend, nodding, eyes wide. "Maybe I should visit more often!"

"Oh, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Hazel said, smirking. "We're not that rich." Then she paused, tilting her head. "What's your place like? I'd love to visit sometime."

Lottie just looked at her, remaining silent. 

"Well, let's not linger in the hallway. Let's sit down and have coffee! I know how much you love coffee."

There were two couches in the living room, side-by-side, facing a television. Underneath each was a carpet, patterned black and brown, appearing well-vacuumed and cared-for. 

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

Lottie sat down, stiff, as she stared. "Where are you going?"

Hazel trudged into the kitchen, then ruffled through the cabinets. "Black? Sugar? Deca-"

"I'm fine, thank you," she said, holding up a hand. "I already had some today."

Her friend stilled after snatching a cup, then proceeded to put everything back. "Right, I'll just, uh, be right there..."

"Hazel?" Lottie began. "I'll ask you if I want anything."

Hazel nodded as she neared, then sat down beside her. "Well, anything new?" She smiled, hands to cheeks. "It's never too soon for gossip."

"Not really," she said, grinning. "Just living, I suppose."

Then her face dropped and she played with a loose shirt thread. "Did you hear yet?" A pause. "Did you hear that Joseph's leaving within a week?"

Lottie subdued a shiver. "Ah, yeah" - she looked to the ground - "I heard already. It's very... unfortunate."

"Hmm." Hazel lifted a brow, staring ahead. "You already know, huh?" She rubbed her chin. "That's quite strange, actually."

"How so?"

"Well," she went on, "it's just that... he told me directly and-"

"And what?" Lottie leaned in, eyes furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Did you..." she trailed, "also ask him directly?"

"What's this about?" 

Hazel matched her, leaning in, and met her face. "I've seen the way he looks at you, Lottie, and we've always had our suspicions..." She paused for effect. "Are you two, uh, together?"

Lottie placed a hand to her heart. "Together?" she repeated. "You think we were together?"

Her smile widened. "Your face is beat-red. That is answer enough."

"Well," Lottie said, dropping her gaze, "you caught me." She glanced up. "You caught us."

After a chuckle, Hazel frowned and sighed. "I see what you did there. Past tense? So, you two aren't together anymore, are you?"

"No," she confirmed with a stiff nod. "It was short-lived... Unfortunately, some aren't meant to be a couple."

Suddenly, Hazel looked down, fidgetting with a silver bracelet. "Yeah, I guess some aren't."

All the while, Lottie watched, mind reeling. A silver bracelet...

"Hey there!" Steps drew in from behind, soft but persistent. "I don't believe we've met before."

She stiffened, paused, then peered over. "You must be the mother, right?" She smiled. "I'm Lottie."

"And you can call me Chris." 

Her mother was in a brown-silked shirt and blue jeans. Her build was tall and lean, her long, brown hair drawn back. After extending a hand, then shaking, she scampered into the kitchen. "Want anything? We've got tea, orange juice-"

"I'm fine, thank you." Lottie looked at her friend. "You people have a lot of hospitality, but I really don't need anything."

"Yeah, I suppose we've always been like that," Hazel said, then turned her attention. "Mom, do you know where Dad is?"

"Not sure. Maybe he's out back."

"Doing what?"

"Smoking is my guess."

"Ah." Hazel nodded. "That makes sense."

"And I don't suppose you know where he is, do you?" 

Her eyes flickered. "Don't mention him, Mom. I don't want to talk about it." She continued to play her the bracelet. "Save it for later."

"I just know he's one of those boys..." The woman made a face, then departed down the hall. "I'll be painting if you need me!"

"Ma'am," Lottie spoke up. 

The footsteps stopped. "Yes?" The woman peeped around the corner. "Is there something wrong?"

"I just wanted you to know that I love your paintings."

She froze a moment, mulling it over, then smiled. "I'm glad you think so. Paintings are meant to be enjoyed, after all." She looked at her daughter. "I'm glad Hazel kept them for me."

"I couldn't get rid of them, Mom," Hazel chuckled. "You'd kill me."

Her mother raised a brow, then flung a wrist. "I'll be going now. Call me if you need me!"

When she disappeared, Lottie rubbed her chin. "This doesn't make sense... I'm a little confused."

"About what?"

"Why does she seem so at home here? Did she bring her art supplies? If so, then why? She's only spending the night, you said."

Hazel laughed, shaking her head. "You always were curious. Well, if you must know, Mom brings her paint everywhere. And yeah, she does come often, so it only makes sense that she feels at home."

"I see."

"Anyway, moving on." Hazel leaned back, staring off. "Now, let's talk about your brother. You said... you visited him."

"Yes," Lottie said, shifting her gaze. "I've forgiven him. I've forgiven both him and Aunt Rena."

Hazel nodded, slow, then hugged herself. "Are you, uh, sure they deserve it, though?"

"Yes." Lottie met her face. "I went to visit and I learned everything I needed to know. There are things I realized... that I wish I knew before." She sighed but smiled. "The truth was in plain sight. Now I'm ready for the future."

Her friend smiled back, but her eyes were dim. "You're quite the mystery, Lottie."

She bowed her head, covering a smirk. "Why thank you, Hazel."

"So they seem nice enough, then?" Hazel shifted, narrowing her gaze. "They don't seem toxic or have an agenda?"

"Well, Aunt Rena's dead... but Eliott is my brother again."

"Oh, Lottie" - she leaned in, wrapping her into a hug - "I'm so sorry!"

Lottie returned the gesture, then gently pulled back. "Things are good now. I'm perfectly fine." She forced a smile. "It's for the best anyway."

"Yeah, your aunt was really something. She gave you that scar!"

"No, no," Lottie said, holding up a hold, "not like that."

Her eyes flickered. Her posture stiffened. 

"If she never died, I never would've gone home. I never would've accepted my scar or brother. She was the key for my story to move forward."

-

"So," Lottie said, swirling her cup with a spoon, "why?"

Hazel crossed her legs, arm over couch rest. "Why what?" she asked. "Why I gave you that coffee? You wanted it just now."

Lottie blew over it, watching the liquid churn. "That's not what I meant."

Her friend sipped from her own. "You might have to be more specific." She peered up. "What's on your mind?"

"Why do you have that bracelet? I've never seen you with it before."

Her breaths hitched. 

Lottie continued swirling with a spoon. "It's true, isn't it?" A sip. "You have a boyfriend, don't you?"

"Maybe."

"And he gave it to you, didn't he?"

"Maybe."

"You're a mystery, too, Hazel." 

Her friend began to play with the bracelet. "Well," she trailed, "we all have our problems..."

Lottie nodded, stiff, as she stared at her coffee. "I suppose so." Then she gave Hazel a kind smile. "You can trust me, y'know, but we can change the subject."

She continued to fidget. 

"Things aren't going well, are they? You keep playing with that thing..."

Hazel met her face, glanced at her friend's wrists, then muttered.

"What was that?" Lottie leaned in. "I didn't quite hear you..."

"You used to have a bracelet of your own. That leather one? Yeah, I saw it." She paused, staring at the floor. "You don't have it anymore."

"That's because I got better." Lottie's face was open, eyes steady. "And you don't have to make the same mistake I did."

"Which was?"

"You can reach out. I want to finally be a good friend."

"Well," Hazel said, "I've been avoiding him."

Lottie let her posture slouch. "Some just aren't meant to be, I suppose. I'm sure you had a good reason."

"That's the thing, though," she went on. "I didn't! And now I'm feeling guilty but picking up the phone just got harder somehow... It used to be so easy, and I just-"

"Hazel," Lottie cut in, "just breathe. I'm not going anywhere."

"I guess he has problems that I can't relate to."

There was a steady silence. 

"Ah," Lottie said, repositioning, "I can understand that."

"And that dialing someone gets more difficult?"

"I can understand that, too. I did that with a few, actually."

"Who?"

Lottie stiffened, then cranked her neck. "Where to begin... I tried avoiding my neighbor for a while, then Joseph, and not to mention you! The worst thing I've done, though, is ignoring my own family."

"I'm sorry, El."

A shiver ran down her spine. "W-What did you just say?"

"What, the nickname? I thought it sounded cute, I gue-"

"Let's not let that become our thing! That's what Eliott calls me."

Her friend froze a moment, then slapped her knee. "What a coincidence! I... I guess I didn't know!"

"We may be friends, Hazel, but you'll need to come up with your own."

"I'll think of something." She raised a hand in surrender. "It'll be just as cute. I promise!"

Lottie matched her, giggling, then straightened. "Now, about your boyfriend."

Her friend nodded, looking at the silver bracelet. "My boyfriend's family ignores him and he's depressed."

Small world. 

"I just don't know what to do."

"You know what the best move is?" Lottie huffed, slow and steady. "See that phone right there?" She looked at her pant pocket. "You should pick it up and talk to him."

"What would I even say?"

"Tell him you're there. That's all that matters." 

Hazel's face turned flush. "I don't know... It's a bit rash, don't you think?"

Lottie smiled, giving a knowing look, then stood. "You wouldn't happen to have paper, would you? And maybe a pencil?"

She matched her, leveling up. "Oh, yeah, of course." Moments later, she returned and handed each over. "What's this about? It seems rather sudden."

"I've got my own matter to attend to." She waited for a beat, staring off, before entering the kitchen. "It's strange how things turn out."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

After placing the paper on the counter, she took the pencil, paused, then began. "It's strange where you live. That's all." When she was finished, she neatly folded it in two, tucking it in a pocket. "Do you want to go for a walk, Hazel?"

"Uh, okay. I'd love to." She looked her up and down. "That jacket seems a little thin. Want something heavier?"

"I'll be fine."

Hazel nodded, then hung her mouth. "Are you, uh- Wanna tell he whats going on?"

"You'll see. It'll make sense in the end. It always does."

"Mysterious today."

Before they departed down the hallway, a side door opened. Slow feet trudged inside, paused, then began up the staircase. 

"Hey, Dad!" Hazel peeped around the corner. "You've been out there a while."

"Had a cigarette. Why? Does something need doing?"

"This is my friend." She glanced at Lottie, gesturing her over. "Thought you two should be introduced."

Lottie straightened, then prepared a smile. "Hey." She waved at the figure. "I'm Lottie."

The man was in a black jacket, collar turned up, and blue jeans. "Nice to meet you." He offered a nod. "I'm her father."

"That's good to know." She nodded back. "I'm glad we get to meet."

"We're just going for a walk, Dad. Be back soon."

When they excused themselves, Hazel grabbed a jacket from the rack, then stepped aside. "After you."

The air was chill and fresh, grey clouds looming high above, which contrasted from an hour back. 

Lottie glanced at her friend. "Pretty big house for one person."

Hazel hugged herself, grinning, as they began down the driveway. "Okay, so maybe there's a bit you don't know... They moved out a like a month ago. We still don't have everything sorted."

"You'll be moving soon, is that it?"

"Yes."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Well, I'll be moving in a month. I would've told you within the week." Hazel gave her a thoughtful glance. "After your stalker, you've been different but I still thought you'd care. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"My neighbor's moving, too."

"I'm so sorry," her friend said. "I'll still be in touch, though, okay? You've got my number."

Lottie nodded, looking at the ground ahead. They were each walking down the street, side-by-side, a heavy silence in the air. She stifled a sigh. 

"Besides, you'll find more friends. You'll get more choices."

"You're right." Lottie mustered a smile. "You're right."

"But we can still hang out."

"I'll call you again. You'll see." She turned her attention forward, hands in pockets. "You want to know why we're out here, Hazel?"

For the second time, her breath hitched. "Why?"

"I figured it was the perfect scenery for that phone call... and no one can judge you out here."

"Except you," Hazel said a little too quick. "Sorry." She bowed her head. "I just don't know now's a good time. It should be about you."

"Trust me, I'm no one to judge." A glance. "It's not only that though, Hazel... I know what it's like to be avoided; to be neglected. For the remainder of this walk, I think you should talk to him. At least try. If he doesn't pick up, then that's that. Or" - she paused - "you don't have to take the opportunity. What do you say?"

She said nothing. 

"Whatever the choice, I'm not one to judge."

"I'll try." Hazel dug for her phone, forcing breaths. "He might not pick up, though."

"Does he normally not?"

She peered up. "He always does."

Lottie came to halt and her friend followed suit. 

Moments passed. 

With a subtle sigh, she dialed the number, then closed her eyes. 

Ring... ring... rin-

Her eyes snapped open. "Colton? Are you there?"

Lottie smiled, staring down, before quietly departing. This had everything to do with them; not her. From afar, sitting on the curb, she'd give the occasional glance. Each time, her friend would appear brighter, more full of life. 

When the call ended, Hazel stayed frozen, staring at the screen. 

"Hazel? How'd it go?"

She looked over, face wet with tears. "I think I'll call him more often. That went surprisingly well."

Lottie pulled herself up, then came forward. "I'm happy to hear."

"Now, should we go back?"

"Not quite." She felt the note in her pocket. "There's still something that needs doing."

"And what's that?"

-

"We're here." Lottie stared at the house, giving several nods. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"You're quite the character, Lottie. Or, should I call you Lobster..." She twinkled her fingers, grinning. "How's that nickname?"

She frowned, widening her stance. "Lobster? Really? You're gonna have to do better than that."

"Gonna be picky, are we." Her friend scoffed. "Okay, fine. What about Lou?"

Lottie gave a weak shrug. "I can live with that."

"Now, back to what matters... I have some questions! For example, what did you mean by it's strange where I live?"

"This house is awfully close to yours, that's all."

"And who lives here exactly?" 

"Some questions aren't meant to be answered." Then, with a smirk, she took the note and neared the house. "You got your happy ending. It's now time for mine."

The house appeared civilized: fresh blue walls, finely-trimmed bushes leading ahead, a tire swing to the right...

It would seem perfect. 

She stopped at the door, mind whirling, then straightened. After tucking it under the rug, she gave a final nod and went off. 

This is my last goodbye, Joseph. 

I did it!! This chapter's finished! There are now two more parts left to write. The same goes for 'His Last Smile'. After that, I can finally work on other stories, which I'm thrilled about. For the past several months, I've been obsessing over new book ideas. I couldn't write them, though, because these were still ongoing. So yes, when these are done, I can actually write them. *squeals*

With that said, I hope everyone's well. I'd love to hear from you!

God bless. <3