A Day In The Life of Hazel Kamalachi; Chapter 11, Poems and ..Cheese In a Can?

It was some time before Hazel could actually look at Jake again, let alone speak to him. Usually, she'd spend her afternoons and days perched in the big oak in her backyard, overlooking the garden pasture that twinkled with the frosty reflection of roses and rosy tomatoes shining dimly. She would sit there for about thirty minutes and think about everything, waiting for her mother to call her in.

Usually that would also take some time, but she just leaned against the trunk and stared in the distance, avoiding eye contact with Jake's window sill, where he normally was sticking his head out.

Hazel would stay sitting calmly in the tree until dark, where the moon shone brightly on her hair, not the heavy winds would even make her get down. The dusky snow as it fell down in clumps didn't bother her, nor the occasional freezing rain.

She would sit, thinking, staring, and wondering. All Jake's words were completely out her mind now--she was over him long now.

Sometimes, Cady or Taylor would call, reminding her that Zoey was keeping a close eye on Hazel and Jake's house. But she ignored every call her friends did.

Jake called her about one thousand times, but again, Hazel ignored him.

At school, when came recess time, she'd hang out in the courtyard, gazing at the clouds alone. Jake would be seen on the jungle bars, silently watching her until the whistle blew; then he would look away sharply, feeling very hurt, and walk away.

He was seldom seen, same goes for Hazel.

She'd asked to switch desks, and now, they didn't sit next to each other--Hazel sat in between Cady and Zoey.

But, on the bright side, they'd both been doing a lot better in school. They were extremely quiet at home, never talking unless they were forced to.

Over the next few days, though, Jake was starting to realize that if Hazel never wanted to speak to him again, that was fine. And he became very popular. Every single guy in class was always inviting him to play football at recess, to sit with him at lunch, etc.

They were the group of boys that the teacher always yelled at for being so loud in the hallways, and always kept apart because they'd talk so much.

..Hazel, like she did everything nowadays, ignored it. She was sleeping over her friends' houses again; she was talking to them; she was laughing about being so stupid as to be friends with Jake at all.

He meant "kaput" to her now. She didn't give a monkey's banana about him, tore all of the evidence they were ever friends, trashed him in her journal, and walked past his house every day without even looking at it.

Hazel barely even had the faintest idea what he was like anymore.

Jake is now nothing in her mind.

***

Hazel sat in her tree, a green notebook in her grasp. She scribbled down a poem:

After violently signing her name at the bottom, she nailed it on the tree trunk and grinned to herself.

"Why was I ever friends with him? I should've just ditched him," she repeated softly. "Just like Cady said. First second I lost hi--First second I saw him."

She jumped from the heavy branch, making a grass stain on the knees of her jeans as she landed. Jake opened the window to water the flowerbed, but seeing Hazel, poured the water over her head on 'accident' and shut the window.

Her peircing scream smacked the air, and she glared at the window that Jake had just disappeared from.

Hazel bit her lip, shaking the water from her hair like a dog. She glowered, shivering and shuddering, but then remembered her promise to herself.

Hazel wasn't going in until dark. She pulled the drenched sweatshirt from her torso and lay in a patch of sunlight.

A lot of the clouds seemed to spell 'Jake' to Hazel, but she, like all things, ignored it. It was an hour she'd fallen a sleep..

Her eyes shot open. She got up, and though relieved to find she was dry, looked around the plastic fence to find Jake standing there.

"Hello, Hazel. Had a nice nap?" His voice sounded very matter-of-fact and mature, but even as polite as it was, Hazel could still not trust him.

She looked down, and from cheese in a can, was spiraled all down her back. Grimacing, she stared glumly at the yellow stains that dotted the spot in which she'd been laying in, as well as her own back. It snaked up her shirt, gushing under her armpits, and crawled an inch up into the back of her neck and hair.

Hazel groaned, throwing the empty can so it would hit Jake's back, but it missed. He simply smirked.

"Whoops. Missed me," he said without the slightest regret. He strolled away, laughing. At least, on the outside.

Jake walked into his house, staring miserably at his shoes.

"I hate my life, I hate it, hate it, hate it!" He kicked the ground, and hung his head back so it hit his bed.

"It stinks, stinks, stinks!"

His mom appeared again. "What stinks? Your socks? Then I agree wholeheartedly," she joked.

"No. My life."

And with that, Jake ran into the bathroom and locked himself in.

***

Meanwhile, Hazel banged her head against the grass, ignoring the squirmy cheese that slithered along her spine.

"Please get dark early like it's SUPPOSED to in January," Hazel pleaded, staring at the now faded sunset.

She crawled up the oak, and took out her green notebook again. She wrote another poem, and like all her poems, it was inspired; but much better than any of her poems, or any of any fifth graders' poems:

Because you know I'd be 100 years old before I'd hate you
...Tonight

Of course, that's only what she felt deep in her heart. Otherwise, she felt the complete oppisite of the poem.

***

Jake sat criss-cross on his bed, watching Hazel nail papers to the oak tree, and he wondered what they said. He watched her climb down and look at the sky, and go inside her house.

The moon dappled his bedspread as he curled up on his stomach, still wondering what those papers could possibly say.

***

Morning came. Hazel and Jake both woke up at the same time, both went down for breakfast at the same time, and both finished eating at the same time. What's more, they had the same breakfast; eggs and an english muffin.

It was a crisp January air on Sunday that lifted Hazel's spirits. Sure, it took her an hour to wash the cheese off her back, but it proved her theroy right about Jake.

She rode her bike to Zoey's house, bumping silently along the road. Finally curving into her driveway, Hazel knocked on the door.

Zoey answered. "Oh. Hello, Hazel."

Hazel sighed.
"Come on, Zo, I'm not friends with Jake anymore. I took your advice."

Hearing this, Zoey's face lit up. "Great. Well, let's have some chicken nuggets for lunch and they practice cheerleading!"

Hazel raised her eyebrows. "But..you and I don't do cheerleading."

Zoey laughed. "Silly, for cheerleading TRY-OUTS. We're going to try out, right?"

"I-I don't know," she started, her voice sounded half-hearted.

Zoey's green eyes stabbed Hazel's voice in half. "We're going to try out, right?"

Hazel's expression was stiff. "Yeah, sure."