6 - Hazel

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SIX YEARS AGO

With a high-pitched yelp, I was yanked free from Weston's grip, and when he turned back to look at me, I was on the ground clutching my bloodied knee, tears blurring my vision. He slid his bag off his shoulder and pulled out a small silver flask.

"This used to be my dad's." As he shook it, the liquid inside made a sloshing sound. "This is going to hurt," he warned me as he poured a little bit of whiskey over my scraped leg. I cried out, my fingernails biting into the flesh of his forearm where I gripped him. He blew over the wound as I watched with watery eyes. He had been so cruel, and now he was being kind, gentle even.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked, brushing my hand against my cheek to wipe away a tear.

He shook his head. "You followed me."

"You didn't leave me a choice." I snorted, and his eyes snapped to mine, unable to keep the smile from his lips. "This was my favorite dress, by the way."

"You don't want my help?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Thank you. It's been a really long day, and I appreciate someone actually caring about my feelings."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, his hand still gripping under my knee. "Isn't your dad the new pastor?"

With a shrug, my eyes took in the trees around us. "I found out he's getting married today. I didn't even know he was seeing someone."

"Today?"

"I found out today. The ceremony is tomorrow. I don't know how he can expect me just to be okay with it like it's not some huge life-changing thing."

"Who is he marrying?"

"My grief counselor. My mom had..." her voice trailed off. "She was supposed to help me, but –"

"My dad is dead too."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be. Take this," he held out the flask toward me. I eyed it for a moment before my thin fingers slid over his. I tipped it to my lips before sputtering and coughing from the harsh taste.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Sixteen," I confessed, chewing on my lip. "You?"

"I'll be eighteen in a couple of months." He took the flask from me and pulled a sip from the small container. I grabbed it back with a giggle, trying again as I eyed him. Reaching between us, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a smudge of dirt along my jaw. Sucking in a ragged breath, my legs fell open slightly, and he took it as an invitation to lean in closer. His fingers slid into my messy hair, tangling as my lips parted, my eyes lingering on his mouth.

"If you really wanna piss off your dad..." He let his voice trail off as he leaned in closer.

Inhaling a ragged breath, my fingers slid along his neck and against his hair as his mouth landed on mine, and he settled his weight on me, slowly lowering me back onto the forest floor. 

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