Seventeen-year-old Hazel never saw having a sick mom in her future. And the last thing she expected was for her new next-door neighbor to give her a checklist that would change everything.
*****
After Hazel Winter's mom got sick, all emotion vanishe...
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IT MUST SUCK to start over during your senior year. You come into a brand new school, leaving all of your friends at your previous one behind, and then you somehow have to manage all the stress from that on top of trying to get good grades, decide where you want to go to college... I mean, damn, it's a lot.
Why did River move here? Right before his senior year? Did his mom or dad get a job transfer? Did he get expelled from his last school? There are so many questions I want to ask.
To peek out the window, I dip my finger into the blinds. I'm about to leave for school, but I want to make sure that River doesn't leave at the same time as me. I don't want to see him because if I do, then I know he'll talk to me.
"He's cute," my mom says from her chair. "He's around your age, right?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter, but when I look back out the window again, I see River leaving his house with his book bag slung over his shoulder. He's in his usual: band t-shirt, jeans, vans, and a beanie, and I hold my breath as he climbs inside his mom's car. I only know it's his mom's car because lately, I seem to stare at his house often, and I've seen her leave sometimes to go places.
"Sure you don't," she says. "You'll never get to know him from inside of this house, Hazel. Put yourself out there for once."
I bark out a laugh. "Are you telling me I'm lame?"
"No, but you need to do something other than constantly fuss over me. You need friends, honey. Now go."
Giving her a roll of my eyes, I give her a quick kiss on the cheek before I head outside. River is still in his car, and when he sees me walk down the porch steps, he gives me a little wave.
Maybe my mom is right. Maybe I need a friend. I need to put myself out there, so I wave back, not amused whatsoever when he puts his hand over his heart in shock and rolls down the window.
"Did you just wave at me?" He asks. "And smile? Is it Opposite Day?"
"I am capable of being nice, you know," I tell him. "Sometimes."
To ignore the awkwardness that seems to fall over us, I hold onto the strap of my backpack. I'm never good at starting or keeping a conversation, but thankfully River dips his head down out the window to catch my gaze with his and asks, "Need a lift?"
***
"I'm surprised your mom lets you take her car," I say ten minutes into the ride. We've been listening to a random rock band to kill the silence between us until now, but I need to speak if I want River to be my friend.
He leans over to adjust the heat and shrugs. "I only get to take it on Friday and sometimes on the weekends when I work. Tracy has to work the other days."
