hazel’s never been exactly subtle. not with the way she talks with her hands, not with the way she lingers a second too long when you laugh at her jokes. and definitely not with the way she acts around you. like she’s trying so hard to be cool she might combust.

you’re standing by the lockers, scrolling through your phone, when she spots you. her whole face lights up like someone flipped a switch she didn’t know existed. hazel straightens her jacket (for the third time) and makes her way over, trying not to trip over her own converse.

“hey!” she blurts, a little too loud. “i, uh—nice phone. good… scrolling.”

you blink up at her, biting back a smile. hazel’s cheeks are already flushed, and she scratches awkwardly at the back of her neck, glancing anywhere but your face.

“thanks?” you say, amused. “it’s… a normal phone.”

“yeah, yeah, no, for sure.” she shifts on her feet, pulling at a loose thread on her sleeve. “i just… you know. thought i’d come say hi. see how you’re… existing.”

there’s this beat of silence where she looks like she’s about to bolt, and you can’t help but laugh. it softens something in her immediately. she smiles—wide, a little crooked, and relaxes just enough to bump her shoulder into yours.

“you should come to, uh, the next fight club meeting,” hazel says, trying for casual and failing miserably. “not ‘cause i wanna see you or anything. just, y’know. for… educational purposes.”