Page 12 of Bless My Heart

“Oh, hi Wes.” Ok, so she remembers me. Hazel must talk about me with her friends. I give myself a mental high five. “I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Hazel … Uh, Dr. Greenwood’s friend, Caroline.” She looks me up and down, taking in my gray joggers and black T-shirt.

“I remember you.” Her face blushes a little. “Where is Dr. Greenwood? Is she feeling better?” I let myself into the office and sit down in a visitor’s chair. I casually lean back, trying not to look too concerned with Hazel’s whereabouts.

“Oh, um. Yeah, she’s feeling better,” Caroline says. She seems nervous. Her hands rummage through papers on the desk. She grabs a random pen, but she won’t meet my eyes.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, still not looking at me. I sit up a little straighter in my chair.

“Caroline. What’s wrong with Hazel?”

“Just a stomach bug or something.” Or something?

“Caroline…” She sighs. She knows I’ve caught her in some sort of fib. “What’s going on?”

“Wes, it’s not my place to say anything, ok?” She grabs a Post-It Note from Hazel’s desk—of course, it’s purple— and writes something on it. “Listen, this is her address. Maybe you should stop by and check on her.”

I take the Post-It but raise my eyebrow at Caroline. “Hazel made it very clear that we’re strictly professor and student. I think showing up at her place might be overstepping. Is there a reason she might want me there?”

Caroline shoves some papers and a few textbooks into a bag which I’m assuming she’s taking to Hazel’s. “I…I just think maybe you two need to talk. That’s all I’m going to say.” She picks up the bag and slings it on your shoulder. “She’ll be home all day if you have time to stop by.”

She gives me one more once-over before walking out of the office, leaving me staring at a purple Post-It and wondering what the hell just happened.

The TA is teaching class again today. I try to focus on the lecture because I genuinely enjoy the material, or at least I thought I did. Now I’m thinking that maybe I only enjoyed it because I enjoy watching Hazel get all excited about Microeconomics. You can tell she loves what she does. It’s always good when your professor truly enjoys the material because it makes learning easier. It’s even better when you know what the professor’s tight little pussy feels like squeezing your cock.

The class ends early because the TA just reads Hazel’s PowerPoint word for word. And it’s Friday. You can tell everyone, including this TA, wants to get the hell out of here.

I spend my entire next class staring at the Post-It Note that Caroline gave me. Why does she want me to go to Hazel’s so badly? Hazel made it very clear we had to have boundaries. I know she enjoyed our one night together, but maybe thats all she wanted. I don’t want to show up at her place and have her think I’m pressuring her for another night together. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t turn it down, but I’m really genuinely concerned about her.

When class is dismissed, I grab my stuff and say, “Fuck it.”

I don’t really know Caroline, but she looked concerned. I don’t think she would give out Hazel’s address willy-nilly. There’s obviously a reason she wanted me to go there, so I’m going to do it. What’s the worst that could happen? She tells me to leave? I think I can handle that.

I get in my Jeep Wrangler and look up Hazel’s address on Waze. It’s about ten minutes from here. Not that I’m surprised. Everything in Brunswick, Georgia, is ten minutes from everywhere. This town is so damn small, which is why the guys and I sometimes go to the beach to hit up tourist bars. Hence the night with Hazel.

I park in front of Hazel’s building and take the stairs to her second-floor apartment. I could try to hype myself up and turn on the charm, but I’m not here for that. I’m here to make sure Hazel is ok and then go about my typical Friday night business. No big deal.

I knock on the door and instantly hear rustling on the other side. I hear the lock turn and the chain come off before Hazel opens it, saying, “Finally, I thought you would never get here.” Her eyes widen when she sees it’s me. “Oh my God. Sorry, I thought you were Lexi.”

I smile at her. “It’s ok. You can be excited to see me, too.” I wink at her.

“What are you doing here? How did you get my address?” She crosses her arms over her extra-large sweatshirt, which swallows her small frame. She has black leggings on underneath. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun with purple strands flying everywhere. I never thought I would like purple hair as much as I do on this woman. It just suits her.

“Well, it’s a funny story, really. I saw your BFF Caroline at school today, and she passed me your address and said that maybe you and I needed to talk. I thought that was odd since you’ve made it very clear you want nothing to do with me beyond a typical student-teacher relationship. So I’m here to find out two things. One, are you ok? And two, what exactly do we need to talk about?”

Her face has gone pale, and every hint of a smile is gone from her lips. Now I’m getting a little nervous.

She looks left and right into the hallway before saying, “Maybe you should come in.” She moves out of the doorway and gestures for me to come in.

Her living room is not what I was expecting. Based on the most recent renovation shows I’ve watched on HGTV, most people are going for the all-neutral look. But not Hazel. Nope. Her living room is full of rich jewel tones with an emerald green couch and a sapphire blue chair positioned around a gold-accented coffee table. There are dark purple throw pillows on the couch and a purple blanket that she was obviously wrapped in before she got up to answer the door. She has a gallery wall of random photos hanging behind her couch.

While it’s not exactly what I was expecting to see, it really feels like Hazel in here. It’s warm and cozy and just … different. Just like Hazel.

“You may want to sit down.”

“Um. Ok.” I sit down on the opposite end of the couch to where she was sitting. I don’t want to take her spot. She sits down and starts fidgeting with her hands. She looks nervous, which is making me nervous.

“What’s going on, Hazel?”