Chapter Two
Hazel walked down the hallway with her palms sweating. She was shaking a little from the proximity to Dr. Cartwright. He was so damn tall and so damn sure of himself. More than that, her adrenaline had already been going from her altercation with Chris. Why did Cartwright have to let that guy run wild? It was really the worst part of the class—watching a man that she respected otherwise (even if their business ideals didn’t align) let the guys in the class get away with murder.
Or, if not murder, at the very least, wasting the other students’ time and tuition dollars with sexist garbage.
Wiping her hands on the front of her jeans, Hazel shifted her bag and jogged toward the bus stop. Normally, she would walk across campus, but she was too tired to bother. It was never a good sign when one class got her so worked up that she couldn’t function most of the day. Trying to calm down, after she’d gotten a seat on the bus, Hazel opened the little vial of rock salt and lavender that she wore around her neck as a pendant and took a deep breath. She didn’t know if stuff like this actually worked. Her stepfather, Steve, made fun of her for keeping stuff like that around. But it smelled nice, and she figured if people could cure their colds with a placebo cocktail of vitamins and sucrose, she could treat her anxiety with pretty smelling oil.
Just that morning, Hazel had been thinking about dropping the class. If she were honest with herself, her pro-con lists on the matter were mostly con. The only major benefit that she could think of was not having to explain to Cartwright why she wanted to leave. That was the odd thing about how most people perceived Hazel. It was like they thought they knew her—had put her into a type based on a few interactions. But getting into arguments and standing up for people in the moment was a far cry from the self-determined heroine so many had cast her as. While most of her teachers and friends would say she was a confident, almost headstrong woman, Hazel knew that she would avoid confrontation whenever she possibly could. She stayed at jobs longer than she wanted to, she put up with far more from her brothers than a normal human being might, and she really, really didn’t want to have to tell Cartwright that she wanted out of the class.
This offer to work for him was even worse. At some point, she would have to go into his office and tell him no. She took another deep whiff of her lavender before screwing the top back on and pulling the line for a stop. Giving the bus driver (Ron) a wave, Hazel headed off to the bus right on the edge of Campus Corner.
The area wasn’t officially run by the university, but there was a slew of businesses set up right by the college, since a student customer base was built into the location, and they could get even more business on game days. Hazel tended to avoid campus on those days but visited after almost every class. She spotted her roommate, Natalie, through the window of the Terra Café and hurried inside.
“Hey! How was Professor Hotpants today?” Natalie asked with a smug grin.
“Let me catch my breath. God, Nat. Not everything is about catching a man.” Hazel picked up a menu.
“Don’t bother hiding. I ordered for you already.”
Hazel narrowed her eyes at her.
“What? You always order the same thing, and I owe you for last week when my debit card got stolen.” Natalie snatched the menu from Hazel’s hands. “So your nasty banana/kale smoothie with a shot of hemp protein is coming, as well as that weird fake chicken salad sandwich you love.”
“It’s delicious. You can’t even tell it isn’t chicken.”
“You make me die inside. And it makes me wonder how bad a cook your mom is, if you think that’s what food is supposed to taste like.”
“My mother never cooked. She can heat up frozen stuff, but that’s about it.”
“I swear to God, next week, we have to go somewhere I can get a burger.”
Hazel slammed her palms on the table. “Burgers are terrible for you and the environment!”
“Could you be more annoying? I came here for vicarious leering at your hot professor. I don’t know why you have to deny me.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. She was starving, and there was no way that she could get Natalie to change the topic until she was satisfied, so Hazel began to relate her day in as much agonizing detail as possible. Eventually, after their food had come and Hazel had gotten through her story without too much interruption (though Natalie said as she always did that Chris could use a good pegging), Hazel finally felt her insides settling, and she munched contentedly on her side carrots in between bites of not-chicken salad.
“I know you don’t wanna hear this, kiddo,” Natalie said.