Gingerredheadredux

Her god damn rug was back. Staring at her on her own porch was her rug. Hazel’s beautiful, gigantic, colorful rug. Her first thought was to run to Andy to see if maybe his cameras caught anything, but she saw him leave already. It was wrapped and tagged by a rug cleaning company she researched to see if it was real. It was. 

Jen and Hazel’s doctor both thought Hazel might have been hallucinating the second voice she heard that night. Hazel was never sure. She decided to blame the now clean rug on the second guy, purely for her sanity. She couldn’t imagine a man who was okay with assaulting people after dates would feel guilty over a rug, but she obviously didn't know people very well. Maybe he took it to see if it was worth something? Rugs are expensive, but this one wasn't. It was a mass-produced plain white one, probably meant for a dorm or a young adult's first apartment, but, being an artist, Hazel saw an opportunity, bought some fabric paint, and went to town on it.

 After dragging it back inside, she placed it where it had been in her living room. She stared at it for a long time, trying to see if there was a trick. Why else would he return it? Did he feel bad? After probably too long, she finally snapped out of her staring and compromised with herself. She got an envelope and a pen and wrote a letter.

She had a box full of them by now. Six weeks isn't a long time in most aspects. It was to her. She had a hard time while Andrew was gone. Everything felt emptier. Even spaces he didn't occupy. Sleep wasn't coming to her as easily, and to top it off, the scent of her chair was fading. She tried to curl up on it and breathe deeply, but it wasn't enough anymore.

On bad nights, she’d go out on the dock and write him a letter. They weren't really for him. It was journaling just in a different form.

It was creepy. If he ever found them, he’d think she was obsessed and stalkery. 

They weren't weird or anything, just a few paragraphs about her day or her dream, things she wanted to tell him but thought it would come off weird or annoying. She had a plan to burn them. When that would be was still up in the air. Hopefully he would appreciate that she didn’t call him every night like she wanted to.

This letter went by quickly, just a recap of her finding her rug and how she liked the ginger undertones in his hair because it carried light nicely.

She laid it nice and flat on top of the other ones in the box and slid it back under her bed.

The creak of her stairs followed her down as she headed towards her front door. The cameras sat right by the door and taunted her.

She bought a drill while he was gone, and a taller step stool. Jen had come over many times and offered her ‘professional opinion’ on where they should go. There wasn’t enough to cover the whole house, but she really just wanted to cover the doors. 

She could ask him. He would say yes. 

He just got home from a trip. Wasn’t that rude? 

Hazel could hang up some cameras.

~𖤓~

Can a human hear a small electric drill inside their neighbor's house? No. Maybe? That would explain the knocking at Hazel’s door and the very loud “What are you doing?” being shouted through it.

She had a plan to wait until he left before attempting the exterior one lest he foil her plans of independence, but it seems he would be doing that anyway.

If she continued working, she could pretend she didn't hear him. Fuck. He’s definitely taken the half minute of silence as confirmation that she knew that he knew that she was doing the job he said he would do.

Lying was useless. He’s not dumb enough to fall for it. Ugh. She got off her stool and brushed her hands on her thighs.  

“What are you doing?” a very familiar, rough voice asked her again. 

Inside of her house. 

Somehow without detection, Andy, as she's taken to calling him, had made it into her living room.

She must have left her door unlocked again. It’s going to happen to you again if you aren’t careful. The last few days have been a bit rough for Hazel's mental state. It felt like she was constantly being bombarded with reminders that she was attacked and that he was still out there.

“Wh- How?”

“I told you I would do that.” He had stopped yelling.

“Yes, but you just got home, and I bought the stuff while you were gone because I was going to have Jen’s brother come over and-”

“Hazel.” He interrupted. These were the times the constant deep, impassive expression he used was more confusing than endearing.

Concerned or mad? Concerned or mad? Concerned? Mad? Mad.

“You’re mad.” She whispered. She wasn’t saying it to him, more just a general announcement.

“You have a concussion, and you're on a ladder using power tools.”

Oh. Concerned. She’d have to file that away.

That got a good giggle out of her Although he wasn't laughing, he was a little less tense. You couldn’t see it in his posture or body language. His eyes always told on him, though. Their crinkles softened, and he was looking less through his eyebrows and more past them.

“Okay, drama. That was like two months ago, and this is a step ladder with a battery-powered drill.” She remarked.

Andy shook his head and shrugged off his jacket. Hazel had put up coat hooks when she moved in. Really pretty ones she got from a secondhand shop. She never used them. She often opted to toss her jackets onto the back of her couch. He used them. It made her happy.

The one closest to the door was his go-to. His eye caught on the new decoration placed on it. A small clay ‘A’. After only a moment, he reached up and gently ran a finger over it.  

“I will finish up; you go sit.” He said to her with a calmer tone now. She huffed at first but didn't argue much. He liked his hook. Her cheeks hurt.

“First you break into my house, then you boss me around.” She grumbled under her breath.

“You gave me a key.”

Oh right. She did. It made her feel safe, knowing that he could get to her.

“Fine, I wanted to make something to eat anyway.” She marched to the kitchen and looked around. She didn't have a lot, just the stuff she was going to whip up later when Jen got there. Does he like movies? She should invite him. She’d like that. Would he like that? 

Back in the living room, she gave herself a couple of seconds to admire the view of him before asking. He looked even bigger standing on that step stool with his t-shirt fitting tight around his arms, the hem riding up the slightest bit.

“Jen and I are going to have a movie night if you want to join?”

“Uh- I can’t tonight.” he sounded sheepish about it.

“Oh, okay, no worries. Do you work tonight?” She sat on the couch and looked up at him while he worked. She understood. Of course she did. She was still bummed.

“No, I have a-” He searched for the word for a little longer than seemed appropriate. Was he trying to come up with something? A lie to tell her so she’d stop asking? Finally, he supplied his answer: “A thing.”

That's it. ‘A thing.’ Why was he being so cagey? She doesn’t care what he gets up to in his free time. It's good for him to get out and do stuff. He doesn't need to spend every moment of his time with her. He’s a bachelor who just got back from a six-week work trip; he should be going out, having fun, dat- Oh. 

He was dating. 

He was acting weird about it because she might have some residual trauma around the topic. After all, he’s just that damn considerate. That shouldn’t make her chest tight the way that it does. They weren’t anything but some friendly neighbors. She tried to speak, but all the effort her brain was using so she didn’t cry made it difficult. 

She was sculpting his initials and writing him letters, and he was dating. 

“Oh, that’s exciting. I hope it goes well.” She finally squeaked out. It’s not a lie. He deserves that.

They worked together to position the cameras, and she kept a friendly smile the whole time. Her jokes felt flat, and her questions felt more pestering. 

She talked less. 

Maybe she read into things a little too much. Maybe this was all pity.

He kept looking at her while he worked.

The smile she kept on her face felt forced. He could probably tell.

When they started on the last camera, she pulled out her phone and found someone online who offered to assemble plant beds and even gave advice on what to plant. She sent an email for a quote. He’d be too busy with his date come the spring.

Her chest hurt. Rubbing at it didn't help.

“What’s wrong?” He’d finished installing it and was watching her hand move over her ribcage.

“Nothing. Thank you for helping me.” She stood straight and gave him her best ‘I am perfectly normal’ face. He tilted his head at her.

He sure could spot a liar.

“Did I do something?” His voice was soft. She hated that. His sympathy. It felt sharp. Undeserved. She had to get over herself. “You’re upset.” 

“I just think I forgot some stuff for movie night.” She turned to grab her purse from her coffee table. Her hands shook. 

“I’ll be by to help you bring it all in.” He said.

Shaking her head helped clear the tears a little.

“No. Don’t bother. You go get ready. I’m a big girl.” She waved her hand in the air. So carefree. She didn’t care at all. Not one bit.

“I’ll be by.” He insisted.

She felt numb watching him grab his coat and leave. He stared at the ‘A’ again.

It was removed as soon as the door shut behind him.

~𖤓~

Hazel didn’t go to get stuff for movie night. If he noticed, he didn't come by to ask questions. He left his own house as the sun started to set. It had been hours, and he was still gone. Her cameras kept her entertained for a little while. She played with the angles of them, but she couldn't find a way to cover the kitchen doorway.

Jen would be here soon. Their movie was picked out, and snacks were made. She just had to wait.

Whenever her mind drifted to the neighbor (which was embarrassingly often), her chest hurt again. Lying on her kitchen floor, Ridgid and staring at the ceiling. 

It wasn’t fair. Jen was all she really had.

No parents, no pets, no other friends, no boyfriend, and now he was going to start pulling away. She couldn't blame him. She knew she was getting ahead of herself. It was one date. He wasn’t getting married.

She just felt alone. She never felt alone out here. It sucked.

Maybe she should get a cat?

Eventually she zoned out to the texture of the ceiling until she heard his car.

Andrew’s back. She sprang up and made her way to the living room window. It was getting late.

Maybe it wasn’t a date. Maybe she did jump to conclusions. There was no proof that was what he had tonight. What else would he act so odd about? Could be many things. An appointment for a weird rash, a party for only his close circle and he was trying not to offend her by not inviting her, or an appointment for a weird lump.

He stepped out of the car, all serious like he always was. She felt giddy at the sight of him. That was bad.

Dread pierced her chest when his passenger side door opened too.

Maybe he brought S home. He’s done that before. He said it wasn’t work, but she was pretty sure they were friends too.  

S didn't have long blonde hair or wear small two-piece outfits. He didn't wear heels or body shimmer. He certainly didn't grip Andrew's bicep as he walked up to his door with him.

She whipped herself around away from the window.

Oh god. He brought a girl home.

Of course he did. He's handsome. Oh god. She had sat here for over a month thinking maybe they were getting closer. How fucking embarrassing. 

She scoffed out a laugh at how pathetic she had been the past two months before calling Jen.

As soon as it connected, she spoke: “He has a girlfriend.” 

“What? Who?” Jen’s voice cut through some background noise, letting Hazel know she was already driving.

“A- Michael. My neighbor. He just got home with a girl.” There were a few seconds where she heard how ridiculous this all sounded. Maybe a few months ago she could have been rational about this, maybe before she gave him that painting. What would he say about it if his date asked?

“Okay?”

Biting her thumb muddled her words, but Jen still understood. “Jen, she was shimmery.”

“Hazey, we don't know they're together.”

“She grabbed his bicep.”

Jen sighed, and Hazel’s chest cracked anew. That meant she was stumped, out of other explanations.

“Okay, I'm on my way anyway for the movie; I’ll be there soon.”

~𖤓~

After Hazel gave her the full rundown on everything she saw and everything she scientifically deduced. Jen very gently said-

“You're assuming an awful lot, Hazey.”

Her friend was right, yet there was no one more stubborn than Hazel. She likes to think. Determined not to feel like the loser, she got an idea.

Dating apps were all similar enough to work; she could start fresh on a new one. Her account was made before Jen could blink.

“If he’s dating, then so am I,” Hazel told her friend. She felt tense. No, she was ready. Two entire months had gone by; that's plenty of time. Sure, the nightmares were still there, and she'd reopened her head wound once or twice by scratching in her sleep. Those were irrelevant facts to this situation. 

“Hazel.” Jen reached for her phone, but Hazel was quicker. “Just because he might have gone on a single date does not mean that he is dating. I think you should talk to him before jumping in-”

She swiped faster. 

“See? I’ve already got a match.” She tried to sound victorious, but even to herself she sounded scared. Jen knew her friend; the more she pushed, the harder Hazel committed. Hazel knew she knew this, so when Jen said-

“Not him, he looks boring.”

Hazel almost lost all nerve. Was Jen really going to let her do this? She wasn't ready for this. All of the tension left her as she slumped to her floor and dropped her phone. Jen was right there. Like she always was. Her hand rubbed Hazel's back in long soothing strokes.

“You weren’t there, Jen. I thought-” She finally turned to her friend with new tears in her eyes. “I really thought he liked me.” Jen nodded and shrugged.

“Maybe that’s his sister? A coworker?” It was weak; they both knew it. It was definitely a lost cause. It did get them to smile. Not happy smiles. Humorless ones. Ones that said ‘this sucks, but we both know we can’t do anything.’

“Yeah, dressed like that and touching his arm. Sure.” Hazel scoffed.

The distinct sound of a car starting up got their attention. Trying their hardest not to be seen, they crept to the window and watched. She had a hoodie on now. Andrew’s hoodie. Andrew’s hoodie that he wore to rake up Hazel’s leaves that one time.

“Hazey, I-” Jen tried again.

“It’s okay. At least I didn’t tell him, right? I saved myself from that.” Hazel offered up a small positive. At least she wouldn’t have to move.

When Michael met Hazel’s eyes through the glass, he didn’t look like he cared at all. Not about being seen with this girl. Not about being obviously watched through a window. He didn’t care about any of it.

BUZZ

Oh right. Her phone. Dating app.

She broke their eye contact. He wouldn’t care about that either.

Tristan - Hey. 8:25 P.M.

Tristan - Drinks on Thurs? 8:25 P.M.

Me - Sure! 8:26 P.M.

Jen’s disappointed face almost made her cancel.

~𖤓~

Thursday came quicker than she thought it would. She stalked Tristan a little and noticed he never wore anything other than neutrals, and neither did any of the women he dated. 

Another corporate wannabe. Great.

Haze had to dig deep for this outfit. It was a lot of effort for a date she didn’t want to go on.

“It has been months. You’re ready.” She whispered to herself.

“What are you doing now?” Andrew spoke behind her. Her nerves were so fried it didn’t even spook her.

They hadn’t talked since movie night. He still came by and did whatever needed to be done, but he never came inside. She didn’t offer, and she never went outside. He didn't ask.

“Putting on my new wiper blades but the clip won’t clip.” She didn't look at him. Couldn't. She felt guilty about going. The shaking of her hands was so bad she couldn’t align the blade. It didn’t make sense for her to feel guilt. They weren’t together. He was dating. She could date.

Hazel was unwilling to admit to herself that she was terrified. She had thrown up four times today and got a whopping two hours of broken sleep last night. Exhausted, scared, guilty, and in love with her neighbor. What a mindset to be in for a date. She should cancel, but she was committed. How would it look to him and Jen if she lost her nerve now? Pathetic. 

“Here.” He spoke again before gently replacing her hands with his own, taking over her five-minute mechanical job. When he reached for the other blade, he scanned her outfit, and she swore his brows furrowed. “What are you wearing?”

Rude? Yes, but a fair question given the answer; black.

Flats, slacks, shirt, belt, and blazer. All black. You’d never know, but her no-show socks were pink, just for her. Her hair was down, no clips, glitter, or tinsel. Even her matched undergarments were neutral.

“Is it bad?” She asked him. Never in her life did Hazel think she would be hoping a guy she liked would insult her outfit. First time for everything.

“You got jury duty or something?” He asked.

She shook her head and played with the hem of her blazer. They stood together in front of her car, a nice, neighborly distance apart. That hurt.

“I have a date.” She spoke towards his chest. It constricted with the deep breath he took. “But it might rain, and my wiper blades are worn so- " Look, I’m being safe. Say something.

“You always dress like that for dates?” He interrupted. Rude, again. Their eyes met. Oh, right, that's why she didn’t want to look. He looked sad. Asking why would mean admitting she cared about him. Friends would still ask though. Can they be friends?

“No, this guy’s just not the type to like my usual outfits.”

“Then why go out with him?”

She wanted to scream at him. For a few reasons, she decided against it, the least of which being that it would give her away. Instead, she kept her voice calm.

“I need to grab my purse.”

She ran inside and collapsed against her door. Crying would ruin her makeup. 

BUZZ

Jen - You don’t have to go, Hazey. 6:20 P.M. Jen - BUT if you do, it’s okay if you leave at any point. 6:20 P.M. Jen - I’ll even come get you. 6:20 P.M.

Any response to that would tell Jen that she was stalling. She should be halfway to dinner by now. Only a few minutes longer than it would take to grab her purse, and she was back outside.

Focusing on the asphalt-scuffed knees of Michael's pants, she said goodbye and got in her car.

Except it wouldn’t start. It won’t even sputter and try. Nothing. Nada. Zero. 

Relief crushes her into her seat as she finally allows herself to cry. This wasn’t her normal amount of crying; this felt like the worst kind of adrenaline dump. She should feel embarrassed. Michael is right outside and probably staring. 

The only thing that mattered was that she didn’t have to go. 

From an outsider's perspective, this must have looked insane. Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she looked up to the ceiling of her car and smiled, tears cascading down her face onto her stupid black outfit. She doesn’t have to go. 

Hazel put her face in her hands and let herself revel in that odd feeling of safety. 

The warmth of his hands under her knees was the first sign that he had moved. As soon as he turned her so her legs hung out of the car door, she launched herself towards him. He took the force of her throwing her weight against him and gripping his neck in her arms while she continued to cry. He barely moved, just put a hand on her back and let her sob into his shoulder.  She would feel embarrassed later, but for now she just needed Andy. 

When she relaxed enough to pull away, she grabbed a tissue from her center console.

“You aren’t ready.” He ducked his head a little to see her face.

He was right. Obviously. Her now blotchy face and swollen eyes were enough proof. Well, if he had been into her before, he definitely wasn’t now. That was okay. She’d be okay if he at least stayed her friend. He was good at that. 

Shaking her head, she tried to clear some of the fog in her mind. What was she doing? Losing a game of chicken with someone who isn’t even aware they were playing? When she looked into his eyes, he still seemed tense. She was good with tense Andrew.

“I bought this for jury duty.” She admitted to him with a small airy laugh. “They wouldn’t let me do it though.”

“Why?” He was still squatting in front of her, no longer touching but not a neighborly distance away either.

“I said the justice system was rigged to protect the rich and penalize the poor.”

“Who’d you say that to?” Andrew’s smile helped ease a bit of the ever-present ache in her chest.

“The judge. He was getting water outside the bathrooms; I didn't know it was him.” They both laughed before he stood and offered her a hand. She was grateful when her legs trembled as she bore her own weight.

“You should get some sleep.”

“It’s six P.M.”

Closer to seven now.

“You look like you tried to fight a bus.”

“Rude.”

His shrug earned him another small laugh from her. They dropped their hands.

“Are we going to stay friends?” She was nervous for his answer. Gone were the days when she could guess what he’d say.

“As long as I can handle it.”

Right. As long as it doesn’t impact his life too much. She could do that.

~𖤓~

“Fucking bitch. You all make it too easy.”

Nightmares had been a constant since her attack. Recently there had been an uptick triggered by the downloading of that stupid app.

This time she woke up screaming. Hopeful Andrew couldn’t hear her; she ran to the bathroom and promptly emptied her stomach. Vomiting on an empty stomach was always worse for Hazel. More exhausting.

“You’re okay. He’s not here. You’re okay.”

Chanting helped bring her back down after particularly bad ones. When the nausea started to subside, she stood and shook the tension from her muscles. Jen always massaged her head when she was here. That helped. She tried to replicate it on herself, but it wasn’t the same. 

Water. She needed water.

“No one is in your house.”

Walking to her kitchen helped some of the tension ease out of her joints. The cold water did too. It soothed her hoarse throat for a few seconds. 

She could never go back to sleep after these dreams. Journaling, movies, and yoga seemed to help the most. On this night, her couch was calling along with her nice soft blanket and a movie she’d seen half a billion times.

She was convinced every time she woke up that someone was in her house. As a small reassurance, she had started putting a small piece of masking tape across the gap between her doors and their frames after checking the locks at night. She remembered the trick from a field trip she went on in middle school. Every time she woke from a dream, she would give a glance at the tape and feel a sense of safety.

The same sense of safety that soapy scent of her chair gave her. Andrew smelled like that sometimes. Like today, when he let her cry all over him. 

Maybe he used the same soap that she could pick up on her own chair. Maybe he could tell her what it was.

She needed air. Real air. Lake air.

Remembering the walk down to the dock would be a task for future Hazel. Present Hazel cared only about the feeling of cold water on her bare feet. Everything from the night and the day before her made her feel heavy. Trying to focus on anything made her head hurt worse. She was exhausted and dehydrated. 

No more dates. She was pretty sure Andy ruined it all anyway. Who else would do the stuff he does? Look the way he does? 

It hit her how out of it she was when she didn't even flinch at the sudden voice behind her.

“Found you.”

~𖤓~ ~𖤓~ ~𖤓~ ~𖤓~ ~𖤓~ ~𖤓~ ~𖤓~ ~𖤓~ ~𖤓~ ~𖤓~

I AM FIRMLY AGAINST AI!! I DO NOT USE IT AND I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS BEING FED TO IT.