A Day in The Life of Hazel Kamalachi; Chapter 12, Revenge

Hazel reluctantly followed Zoey into the kitchen, eyeing the wallpaper. It made her remember her granny’s house, where the wallpaper was rich and a dark blue, with pretty flowers spiraling along every corner; of how it smelled delicious with lavender and honey, floating around and lingering inside your nostrils, making you sigh heavily.
It was a painful memory, because her grandma had passed away just a year ago. But, as always, she ignored it. That was one of Hazel’s specialties now—ignoring.

“Lavender and honey,” murmured Hazel. Zoey looked at her oddly.

“What?” she asked. Hazel shook her head, staring at her feet.

“Nothing.”

They sat in the parlor, Hazel on a long, wooden red bench and Zoey on a dark blue one. A wooden table stretched out in front of them.

“So..what's up? ” asked Zoey, fiddling with a bracelet. Hazel raised an eyebrow, and nodded.

“Nothing much. Let's walk to the drugstore to get some pompoms or something,” Hazel sighed, pushing herself up from the bench and began to walk for the door.

Zoey shrugged and followed her. “You can't try out with old ones, I've heard.”

Hazel nodded again, and they both hopped on their bikes, trailing silently down the winding road.

“Listen up, Hazel, we're not actually getting pompoms, are we?” Zoey asked, her teeth clenched and eyes malicious. Hazel stopped her bike short, looking at her.

“Why wouldn't we?” she asked.

“Because I thought we were going to go get back at Jake for doing that thing with the cheese,” Zoey sneered. “But if you're too scared, then--”

Hazel clenched her fists.

“N-no, I'm not. Let's go,” she replied, riding faster than ever.

It was a sad feeling that drooped in her heart, thinking that just because Jake was low enough to do something like that to her that she’d have to do it back to him. Even so, she (of course) ignored it. Zoey smirked.

“Thought so,” she said.
Hazel skidded to a stop at Jake’s ivy-covered house and looked in the window dreamily. It was like Rapunzel, she thought, but I wasn’t a prince rescuing a princess by climbing her hair.
Zoey suddenly got a mean glint in her eyes and, out of nowhere, took out an envelope from her pocket and slipped it casually into Jake’s mailbox. Hazel stared at the mailbox, wondering what the letter said. The somber sky overlooked her silhouette, and she gazed sadly at her own ruthlessness. I’m turning into Cady, she thought miserably, I really am.
But once again, Hazel The Ignorer ignored the feeling. Zoey, being very chipper at the moment, left her bike in Jake’s driveway and skipped to Hazel’s house.

“What’re you doing?” asked Hazel, refusing to follow her. Zoey didn’t answer, but climbed up the oak tree and read the poem on it.
Hazel was completely fine with this until she realized there was only one up there—the one where she said something about not hating Jake.
She gasped, running behind the shrubbery and hopped about 3 feet up the oak before Zoey jumped down. Hazel, out of breath, placed her hand over her stomach and bent over.

“I didn’t mean that poem, I really didn’t, Zo!” she cried, gasping for air. Her cheeks were red-hot with embarrassment, her face flushed with pink. Zoey simply raised an eyebrow, waving the paper in front of her face.

“You DIDN’T mean this poem? Hazel, I am ashamed,” she snarled, crumpling up the paper. It was the other poem—the one where she said Jake was worth a dime.
Zoey glowered, and threw the paper on the ground, jumping on it. “I never thought you’d sink THIS low!”
Hazel’s mouth dropped open. She stared blankly in front of her, shaking her head.

“I thought you had another poem in your hands.”
Zoey bleakly glared. She obviously was surprised there WAS another poem. She cleared her throat, and as far as Hazel could tell, she was extremely angry.

“Wait. There was another poem?” she growled. “That you didn’t want me to see?”
Hazel stopped her panting, and gulped with all the fear she could manage to swallow—hoping she wouldn’t find out about the poem she’d written out of pure anger.

“Well, yes,” she started, trying to look as innocent as possible. “Because it was very bad, you know, I’d be embarrassed.”

Zoey clenched her teeth, and glaring ever so hardly at Hazel, slapped her across the face. It left a red mark, and also a whimpering Hazel.

“ZOEY!” she cried, holding her face.
Zoey simply smiled.
“How come you said you didn’t mean it, then? Tell me NOW, Hazel, or I’ll strike again,” she roared.
Hazel shook her head, a million thoughts running through her head at once, as if all waiting their turn but couldn’t be held back any longer: Zoey is the one who’s sunken low, I can’t believe I said that, I’m such an idiot, I’d never be in this mess if Jake didn’t live here, Maybe Zoey’s right, This friend stuff is hard, Fifth grade is so annoying, and I’d better tell Zoey something before I get two black-eyes.

“I can’t tell you.”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “I thought you were OVER him, Hazel! I can’t BELIEVE you! You will be SO sorry for that!” She punched Hazel in the nose and ran off on her bike, and yelling over her shoulder, left Hazel with a black eye and a huge red mark on her cheek.

“I should’ve never went over there. Never,” she cringed, wiping a tear from her good eye.