|| The Sequel to 'The Diary Of Hazel' || Highest Rank: #12 Short Story, #2 Journal ||
Hazel Bradley has been through a lot and wrote it all down into her diary. What happens when someone reads it and in return, writes their own diary as a reply. A...
It's been a month since Trent apologised. You could say that things have changed. Or you could even say that things have gotten better. And both of those would be correct.
I can honestly state that I think Trent is being genuine with his desire for a friendship with me. It's not that he's ridiculously nice or anything, he's friendly but still in a jerk kind of way. If that makes sense.
Because at one point, he's being nice but then it's like he reminds himself that he's supposed to be a douche so he acts like one after. I don't know, it's weird. But I don't mind it.
Being sort of friends with him is refreshing. Liam is good for a laugh, Hunter is my safety net, and then Trent is the guy who's blunt. He's honest when it comes to what he thinks and he's not afraid to speak his mind. Which, I admit, is annoying but also helpful since Liam barely takes anything seriously, and Hunter sugarcoats everything to try keep from 'hurting my feelings'.
Trent and I actually have a study date today, after school. As friends of course. I don't have any interest in him like that anymore, at all. I don't think I ever really liked him since I was still crushing on Hunter. I was really in denial about the whole thing too.
Ah, the good ole days, I think with a smile, tapping my desk with my pen. Yes, I'm currently in class and have practically been zoned out the whole lesson. The only reason I know how the teacher is talking about Vincent van Gogh is because of the huge portrait of him posted on the whiteboard. You know, the creepy painting of him that makes him look like a pedophile or serial killer? Yeah, that one.
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Looking up at the big, white analog clock pitched above the door, I almost groan aloud. There's still thirty minutes left of Art class. Half an hour of utter boredom.
I briefly observe my fellow peers - who are either on their cellphones or actually listening - before reaching into my school bag and grab the white notebook I've been reading the past couple of months. It's been a while actually, maybe a month? I think the last time I immersed myself in Prince Charming's words was the day I forgave Trent.
What can I say? Life got busy and I haven't had many moments alone to read. And while right now I'm not exactly alone, no one would notice or be skeptical about me reading a book in class.
They're all distracted anyway.
Reply Entry #23
Dear my beautiful Hazel,
Was that creepy? Oops.
Anyway, before I reply to your entry, I just want to say something that I didn't quite get to say in the last reply since I was so overwhelmed with anger.
And that is that I want you to think for a minute (Not saying that you're dumb or anything of course.) But I want you to think about the future and where you're headed. Because whatever dream you have, whatever ambition, I want you to never give up on it.
