Page 9

Campbell

The locker room was a cacophony of chatter, soap, and damp towels thick in the air as I pulled on a sweatshirt over my wet hair. Practice was rough, but it would not be as rough as what awaited me. I glanced at my phone, checking the time. Hazel was expecting me at the library in fifteen minutes.

“Campbell, you coming to the diner?” Wallace asked, slinging an arm around Lucas as they shuffled toward the door.

I hesitated, pocketing my phone. Unhealthy food and idle chatter appealed, yet Hazel’s wait deterred me. I needed the help.

“Can’t,” I lied, managing a casual shrug. “Got plans.”

“Plans, huh?” Wallace teased, winking. “Must be a girl.”

I smirked. He wasn’t wrong. I waved them off as they left. As soon as the door shut, my calm demeanor dropped. With a sigh, I grabbed my hidden backpack and headed out, the crisp evening air cooling my skin as I trekked across campus.

The library was quiet, except for the faint rustle of pages turning and the soft tap of keyboards. Hazel sat at a table in the far corner, surrounded by books and her laptop. With intense focus, she hunched over and scribbled notes. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I approached, stopping just behind her.

“You look like you’re plotting world domination.” I said, my voice was low but teasing.

Hazel startled, her pen pausing mid-sentence. She turned to glare at me, unamused.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t show up. Or perhaps gotten lost.”

“I could never do that to my favorite tutor.” I said with a grin, sliding beside her without invitation.

Hazel sighed, rubbing her temple.

“Not in the mood, Campbell. Get serious, or this is pointless.”

My smirk didn’t falter, but I leaned closer, pretending to study her open textbook.

“I can do serious.”

She didn’t respond, but instead launched into an explanation of the material. I tried to focus, I really did, but the monotone drone of academic language and the way her lips moved had my attention wandering. After a few moments, I leaned back, crossing my arms.

“So,” I said, my voice cutting through her explanation. “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“How do you know I don’t?”

“You had ample opportunity to bring it up if you did.” I said, a lazy grin stretching my face.

“Campbell,” she warned, her tone sharp. “I’m not kidding. If you don’t take this seriously, I’m done.”

I raised my hands in mock surrender, my grin never wavering.

“Fine, fine. Back to the books.”

For the next hour, Hazel explained the material, her patience impressive despite my occasional wandering thoughts. I didn’t realize how much time had passed until she closed her book with a satisfied nod.

“That’s enough for tonight.” She said, packing up her things.

“Good,” I said, leaning back in my chair with a stretch. “Now you can join me at the diner.”

Hazel frowned, shouldering her bag.

“No, thanks.”

“Come on,” I said, standing and matching her pace as she walked toward the exit. “It could be fun. You, me, food, maybe even a milkshake. We could share one with two straws. Sounds like a date to me.”

She paused, turning to face me.

“Just because you’re attractive doesn’t mean you can flirt with every girl who gives you attention.”

I blinked, then my grin widened, smug as ever.

“So, you think I’m attractive?”

Hazel’s cheeks turned pink, and she sputtered before regaining her composure.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Sure it is,” I said, leaning closer with a playful glint. “And for the record, I only flirt with the ones worth my time.”

Hazel rolled her eyes, turning away from me and quickening her pace. I let her go, watching her disappear into the night. I stood there, the ghost of her flustered expression lingering in my mind. I shook my head, turned, and walked away, grinning.

**

The diner was alive with noise—the clatter of plates, bursts of laughter, and the constant hum of conversation. I sat in the corner booth with my teammates, leaning back with one arm slung over the seat. My smirk came easily, as did the occasional comment, but my mind wasn’t in it. I stared at my half-empty glass of water, twirling it on the table as the bell above the door jingled. Instinctively, my eyes snapped up. Hazel walked in, her posture stiff, trailing behind Nevaeh. My chest tightened, but I kept my expression neutral, the smirk in place.

Hazel always carried herself like she was trying to disappear—shoulders hunched, her notebook clutched against her chest like armor. She captivated me above all the others present. Nevaeh strode ahead, commanding attention, her laughter cutting through the diner. Hazel, in contrast, moved like a shadow. But my gaze lingered on her. It always did.

“Hey, boys,” Nevaeh said, sliding beside me without waiting for an invitation. Her perfume was sharp, almost overwhelming, and when her hand brushed my arm, I had to resist the urge to pull away. “Mind if we join?” She asked, though her actions made it clear she wasn’t seeking permission.

My smirk stayed intact.

“Sure.” I said, my eyes darting back to Hazel.

She lingered near the table, appearing ready to flee. For a split second, I considered saying something to put her at ease, but the words lodged in my throat. She always made me hesitate, and I hated that she had this effect on me.

Nevaeh grabbed Hazel’s arm, tugging her down. It left Hazel across from me, and I leaned back, trying to focus on Nevaeh’s chatter. But no matter how hard I tried, my attention kept drifting. Hazel bowed her head, her hair falling across her face as she traced the edge of her notebook with her fingertips. She ignored me, but I only noticed her.

My knee bounced under the table, my restless energy betraying me. Hazel glanced up, her eyes wide, meeting mine for the briefest moment before she glanced away. My breath hitched—a quiet, involuntary reaction I hoped no one noticed. I clenched my jaw, annoyed at myself. What was it about her that always threw me off balance?

“So, Campbell,” Nevaeh purred, leaning closer and resting her manicured hand on my arm. “How do you do it all? Hockey, school, looking this good—it’s almost unfair. What’s your secret?”

I forced a laugh, the kind that sounded smooth but meant nothing.

“Just practice.” I said, the answer rolling off my tongue.

My gaze flicked back to Hazel, who was scribbling something in her notebook. Under the table, my knee brushed against something soft. Hers. I froze. Hazel didn’t move, or look up, but I noticed the slightest shift in her posture—so subtle I might’ve imagined it. My pulse quickened, and the room felt too warm. I should’ve moved my leg, should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t. It was such an insignificant touch, yet it grounded me in a way I didn’t understand.

Nevaeh’s laugh grated against my nerves, pulling me out of the moment. I forced myself to respond to her, but my focus remained elsewhere. When I chanced another glance at Hazel, she met my gaze again, just for a beat longer this time. Her honey eyes held mine, steady and unflinching. The noise of the diner faded, replaced by a quiet tension that strung between us. Her eyes hinted at unspoken words, drawing me in; I considered bridging that silence. But before I could, Nevaeh’s voice snapped me back.

“Campbell?” She asked, giving my arm a playful shake.

My jaw tightened as I tore my gaze away from Hazel.

“Yeah?” I asked, my smirk returning like armor.

“I was asking if you wanted to do something later. Just us?”

Nevaeh’s chatter filled the void, but the moment had already slipped away. When I glanced back, Hazel’s gaze had dropped, and for reasons I couldn’t quite name, it bothered me.