He shook his head and turned away from her. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”
“Great. I’ll leave you to it, then.”
If he responded as she walked away, Hazel didn’t hear him. She was too wound up, too irritated and confused. What was wrong with him? What had she—or anyone for that matter—done to deserve his animosity? She’d tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but perhaps the truth was that he was just a jerk.
She didn’t understand why the others put up with him; if he wasn’t Red’s brother, she would’ve given up on him the moment they met.
Red. Red, who had to live with him every day, who had a brother who refused to talk to him or let him in but was still trying to make the best of a bad situation.
She stopped walking to catch her breath. Despite everything Red had to deal with, he still loved his brother unconditionally. What was worse for him? Having Luca shutting him out at every given opportunity, or not having Luca there at all? The second. Of course it was the second. Red was losing his twin the same way she’d lost her mum, and she knew exactly how much it hurt to have someone slip away from you, for them to always be just out of reach.
Hazel turned on her heels, hurrying back toward the track. She didn’t know what she was going to do when she got there but maybe, just maybe, being there would be enough. Maybe if someone had been there for her when she needed them, things wouldn’t have been quite so hard. She didn’t stop until she was back on the grass, but she was too late.
Luca was already gone.
Dear Mum,
I remember the time we went to the seaside. It didn’t stop raining all day, but we still had fun. We stopped in a little café on the beach for a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a slice of sponge cake, and we sat and watched all the people swimming in the sea despite the rain and the cold. We were both so happy, and I never stopped laughing, not even for a second.
That was the best day ever.
I miss you, Mum, but I remember.
Love,
Hazel
13
Luca wasn’t in school for most of the next week. Hunter and Maddie seemed unperturbed by his absence, like it happened regularly, and on Wednesday night on the beach, when Hazel asked Red about his brother’s whereabouts, he just shrugged.
“How should I know? I’m not his keeper.”
“But you do live with him.”
He pulled a face. “In the same house, yeah, but it’s not like he ever leaves his room.”
Hazel knew that was true, but it didn’t help ease her worry. She couldn’t get the image of how he’d looked on Saturday night out of her mind. “What about your mum? Did she see the bruises from his fight?”
Red didn’t answer for a moment, and when he did his voice was hollow. “Yeah. She did.”
“What happened?”
“She cried and begged,” he said. “Then she threatened to call Dad and came downstairs and cried some more.”
Hazel’s stomach twisted. “Red…”
“I’m sure he’ll be back in school by the end of the week,” he said, forcing a smile, and changed the subject.
* * *
Sure enough, Luca was back on Friday morning, showing up in homeroom and sliding into his usual seat with no explanation for his absence. At lunch, Hazel met Maddie and Hunter on the lawn, but Luca didn’t join them. When Hazel asked about it, Maddie just said, “He’s probably in the library catching up on schoolwork or something.”
Hazel was on her way to her last class of the week when she saw Luca again. He was heading her way down the hallway, but instead of passing her by, he stopped in front of her.
“Hazel.”
The word sounded strange coming out of his mouth, foreign. Perhaps it was because it was the first time she’d ever heard him say her name.
“Yes?”
“I … I just wanted to apologize for Saturday night?” he said, running a hand nervously through his hair. Up that close, Hazel could see the faint yellow smudges where the bruises had been on the weekend. “I shouldn’t have talked to you the way I did. You were only trying to help.”
Hazel managed a bewildered nod, and Luca took a deep breath and said, “The thing is, I don’t even know if you were offering, but if you were, then I’d really appreciate it if … Will you help me with the running thing?”
“You want me to help you?”
“I’ve tried everything else,” he said.
Hazel thought again about Red, and about Claire—about how worried they were about him—and surprised herself by nodding. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“I can’t promise anything,” she warned. “I’ve never done any running myself, but I’ll try my best. When would you like to start?”
“As soon as we can,” he said.
“Tonight? Eight thirty, on that field?”
“Okay,” he said. “But this is … This is private, all right? You can’t tell Red or the others about it. Not yet.”
“But why? I—”
“Promise me you’ll keep it between us.”
“I don’t understand why,” she said. “But okay.”
Luca nodded curtly, turned on his heels, and walked away down the hallway and out of sight.
* * *
As Hazel made her way to the track that evening, she wondered what it was exactly that she was supposed to be helping Luca with. She didn’t know anything about running, especially not competitive running, so it wasn’t like she could give him any advice—and if he used to be a runner, then he probably didn’t need it anyway. He’d said he’d tried everything, but what did that mean? Was she just there for moral support? To cheer him on from the sidelines? Wave some pom-poms around and be his personal cheerleader?
Because she would, if she had to. She wanted to help—wanted to try, at least—but she wasn’t doing it for Luca. She was doing it for Red.
The lights were on at the field when she arrived, but the track was empty. She’d half-expected Luca to be there already, warming up or stretching. She took a seat on a bench by the starting line to wait for him.
She waited. And waited. By nine o’clock, when there was still no sign of him, Hazel stood—disappointed but not entirely surprised—and headed back to Graham’s.
14
Hazel stayed away from the Cawleys’ house on Saturday so that she wouldn’t risk seeing Luca—the more she thought about him not showing up at the field, the more upset she got. On Sunday, Red came over to Graham’s. They spent the day out in the garden sprawled on the grass talking, and when Graham returned that evening from his shift at the Anchor with pizza, the three of them ate outside at a table underneath the stars. It was a good distraction from the twisting feeling of humiliation in the pit of her stomach.
* * *
At school the next week, Luca repaid the favor and spent Monday and Tuesday avoiding Hazel. He sat across the room in homeroom, and at lunchtimes, he didn’t join them on the lawn to eat. By the third day, Hazel began to get a little irritated by his refusal even to make eye contact with her—what reason did he have to ignore her? It was him who’d asked for help and then stood her up with no explanation or apology.
Hazel caught sight of him heading down the hallway at the start of lunch on Wednesday, and although she was still angry, she couldn’t stand the tension between them. It didn’t just affect her; she could tell that it was also upsetting Maddie and Hunter—they didn’t understand why he was ignoring them too.
When Hazel marched up to him, though, ready to call him out, he just pushed past her in the direction of the library.
“Really?” she called after him. “How long are we going to do this for?”
He turned back around to face her, expression stormy. “What do you want?”
“Just to give you a tip for next time someone tries to be nice to you—don’t make plans and then stand them up. I don’t know if you thought it would be funny, some sort of hilarious prank—”
“Then what was it?”
“I … panicked.”
“About meeting me?”
He shook his head, jaw set. “It’s got nothing to do with you. And I know that’s not an excuse and I shouldn’t have bailed, but it’s not … I keep trying, and I just. I can’t do it.”
“What can’t you do? Run?”
“You wouldn’t understand. It’s complicated.”
“Fine!” she said. “Whatever. But we all have our issues, Luca, all right?”
He opened his mouth to argue and then clamped it shut again, settling for glaring at her instead. Hazel wondered what it was about her that seemed to infuriate him so much.
“Let’s just … Let’s forget it, shall we?” she said, taking a deep breath. “But you have to stop avoiding Maddie and Hunter because of me. They’re your friends and they care about you, so it’s not fair for you to take this out on them too. Please come to lunch. They miss you.”
Luca hesitated for a brief moment and then nodded and followed her to the lawn to join the others.
* * *
Luca stopped avoiding her after that, but it took him another few days before he plucked up the courage to ask about the running again. It was Saturday, and Hazel was at the Cawleys’ house for lunch. Red had just left the kitchen to grab something from upstairs when Luca appeared in the doorway.
“I want to try again,” he said. “With the training, I mean. Can we try again? Please?”
“Are you going to stand me up this time?”
Luca shook his head, looking a mixture of sheepish and mortified. “No. I swear.”
Hazel thought about it for a moment. “Fine. Tonight, eight thirty. But this is your last chance.”
Luca nodded once and turned and disappeared from the room. Hazel stared after him, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. If he wasn’t a runner anymore, then why was this so important to him? Because it must be, if he was willing to swallow his pride and come back to ask for her help again.
Red walked in a moment later and caught her frowning. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” she said, forcing a smile and hoping that was the truth.
* * *
Luca was waiting for her when Hazel arrived at the track that evening, much to her relief. He nodded at her once in greeting, and Hazel took a seat on the ground to watch him warm up. There was a sense of determination about him as he stretched that had his forehead creased in concentration and his jaw set.
“All right,” she said when he finished. “What’s the plan here, then?”
“I … don’t have one.”
Hazel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Okay. Why don’t you start by telling me what kind of running you do, then? Sprints? Relays?”
Luca kept his gaze on the ground. “Long-distance.”
She didn’t know why, but that surprised her. Long-distance running took a lot of dedication and patience, and she just couldn’t picture him running endlessly around a track. Couldn’t imagine him doing much, really, except scowling and sulking in the corner.
“What distance did you do?”
“Three thousand meters was my specialty,” he said. “But I did five thousand meters too.”
“You said you used to do ten laps of a track this size—how far was that?”
“Four thousand meters.”
“And you used to be able to do it in twelve minutes?”
“Yep.”
“What happened?”
He raised his eyes to hers, looking annoyed. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Luca. I’m trying to help.”
“I just stopped, all right? I stopped running. That’s it.”
Hazel knew that wasn’t it from the defensiveness in his voice, but she let it go. “How long has it been since you ran?”
“Nearly a year. But running isn’t the main problem—starting is.”
“Starting?”
“I can’t even finish a lap.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t answer. Hazel waited, but he still said nothing. Just stood there with his hands balled into fists and his jaw clenched.
“Why not?” she pressed. “Is it because it’s too hard? Because you’re out of shape?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to do it again.”
“That’s it?”
Luca nodded reluctantly. “I figured that if someone else was here it would help.”
“What, by them forcing you to carry on if you try and stop?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s the plan?” Hazel said. “I stand here and yell at you?”
“You got a better one?”
“I … No.”
“Like I said”—he shrugged—“I’ve tried everything else. If you don’t want to help…”
“I’ll help,” she said firmly. “Shall we get started?”
Luca nodded again and arranged himself behind the start line on the track, crouched down to the ground. He looked over at her when he was in position, waiting, and Hazel began to count him in.
“Three. Two. One. Go.”
Luca took off down the track, feet flying across the grass. He got about a quarter of the way around before he came to a halt, sinking to the ground. Hazel got to her feet and jogged over to meet him.
“See?” he said. “It’s like I’m hitting a fucking wall or something.”
“Get up,” Hazel told him. “Try again.”
“It’s pointless,” he muttered, but he did as he was told. She followed him back to the start line, and this time when he got into position, she followed suit beside him, copying his stance.
Luca looked across at her weirdly. “What are you doing?”
“Running with you.”
“But you—”
“I’m running with you, all right? Are you ready?”
“Yes?”
“Good. Three. Two. One. Go.”
This time, they both started running. Hazel had never been very good at sports, but she tried her hardest to match his pace and find some sort of rhythm as her feet thudded against the track in time with his. It felt clumsy and awkward, but it didn’t matter; she wasn’t doing this for herself.
She kept her focus on Luca as they ran. When they approached the point where he’d stopped before, his face got all pinched like he was preparing himself to hit his imaginary wall.
“Luca,” she ordered. “Don’t stop.”
He said nothing, but they kept running, and he didn’t falter. She kept saying things like You can do this, You’ve got this, You’re doing great. He didn’t respond but he definitely heard.
They passed the start line and began their second lap, and still Luca didn’t fumble. By lap three, Hazel was hopelessly out of breath. She slowed to a halt halfway around and continued shouting her encouragement from the side of the track: “Keep going, Luca! Just seven laps left!”
Running on his own, Luca fell into a steadier, easier rhythm. Hazel found herself a little in awe watching him, taking in how he landed on his feet with each step, the bend of his knees, the swing of his arms. Around and around the track he ran, and then he was finally finishing his tenth lap and walking back over to Hazel. He looked worn out and breathless, but also calmer than she’d ever seen him.
“You did it,” she said when he reached her.
He collapsed on the ground to catch his breath. “That was way, way longer than twelve minutes.”
“Yes,” Hazel said. “But you did it, Luca. You started and you got past the wall.”
He didn’t respond right away—but, then, “I did.”
“And now that you know you can, you’ll be able to do it by yourself.”
“Actually—” he started. “I was thinking … Could you help me with my time, maybe? Getting it back?”
She con
sidered it for a moment. “Okay. But we should have a routine—how are Mondays and Thursdays for you?”
Luca sat up to unlace his shoes. “Mondays and Thursdays are good.”
Hazel waited to see if he would thank her, or at least acknowledge her, but when he didn’t, she said, “All right. See you at school, then.”
“See you,” he echoed, without any real feeling, and Hazel turned on her heels and left him to it. She didn’t understand why he’d given up the running if it was so important to him or why it seemed so difficult for him now, but one thing was clear: he looked good at it. Really, really good.
* * *
That night on the beach, Hazel had to fight the urge to tell Red about her and Luca’s session. She might not have understood why it was so important to Luca that she keep it a secret, but she had to respect it anyway.
Red, fortunately, had other things to talk about—namely Hazel’s dad.
“Hey, so how are things with you and Graham?” he asked as soon as they were settled on the sand. “Mum said today that he basically never stops telling people at work how happy he is that you’re here.”
Hazel felt her cheeks heat up without really knowing why. Graham had never shown any real indication that he was pleased to be sharing his house with her or, in fact, that he was pleased to have a daughter at all. It wasn’t like Hazel would hold it against him if he wasn’t. Finding out that your seventeen-year-old child that you’d never met was coming to live with you was a lot for anyone to adapt to.
“They’re … okay.”
Red looked thoughtful. “It must be so weird for both of you, right? One minute you don’t know each other and the next you’re stuck together.”
Weird was one way to describe it—hard was another. Though she and Graham had begun to adjust to life with each other, the situation was still awkward and difficult to navigate. The worst moments, though, Hazel had found, weren’t the silences when she and Graham couldn’t find anything to talk about. It was when they could. It was the moments when Hazel recognized herself in his laugh or his sense of humor and started thinking about how different her life could have been if he’d chosen to be a part of it before he absolutely had to be.
When Hazel didn’t answer, Red looked sideways at her. “Sorry. That was … insensitive. It’ll get easier, you know that, right? You’ll get used to each other.”
Don't Forget Me Page 6
