The following Monday brought a peculiar stillness to the hallways of Spring High. The usually buzzing lockers and laughing students seemed muffled—perhaps because of what happened at the bonfire. Hazel hadn’t spoken to Isabella since that night, and it was beginning to eat at her.
Hazel stared at her locker blankly, her hands trembling just slightly as she spun the dial. She could still hear the echo of Isabella’s voice: “Why are you scared of being close to someone?”
Before she could shut her locker, a hand reached past her and placed a folded note on the top shelf.
She turned quickly. Isabella.
No words—just a small nod and then she walked off, blending into the crowd like she hadn’t just cracked Hazel’s heart open again.
Hazel quickly unfolded the paper. It read:
> “Meet me after school. Rooftop. No excuses. —Izzy”
Hazel felt a chill race down her spine—not from fear, but anticipation. What did Izzy want? A fight? An apology? Something more?
---
After school
Hazel climbed the rooftop stairs slowly, every footstep echoing against the concrete walls like a countdown. When she pushed the metal door open, the warm amber of the setting sun washed over her. Isabella stood at the edge of the roof, her back turned, her hair swaying in the breeze.
“You came,” Isabella said softly, without turning.
“You told me not to make excuses,” Hazel replied.
There was a long pause.
Isabella turned, her eyes unreadable. “Why are you afraid of me?”
Hazel’s lips parted, but no words came out.
“I’m not,” she finally whispered.
“Yes, you are.” Isabella stepped forward. “Not in the way people fear danger. But the way people fear being known.”
Hazel’s chest rose and fell heavily. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
“Then tell me,” Isabella said, stepping closer. “Stop shutting everyone out—especially me.”
Hazel looked away. “It’s easier that way.”
“But it’s not real,” Isabella insisted. “You want real? Then be real with me. No more running.”
Hazel looked up at her—at the fire in her eyes, the tremble in her voice, and finally... the soft tear slipping down her cheek.
“I’m scared because… because you make me feel seen. And when people see me, they leave.”
A silence fell between them, heavy and fragile.
Then Isabella reached forward and gently touched Hazel’s hand.
“I’m not leaving.”
And for the first time in a long time, Hazel didn’t pull away.