Hazel Prologue
“Love At First Sight”
Hazel Denise, baby girl, where are you?
We can’t be late for this meeting, is important, sweetheart.
Well, why do I have to go if it’s so important, mamen?
Baby girl! Just get dressed, please, Hazel!
I want to stay here and play with Haziel and Jasiel, please, mamen. Why don’t they both have to go with you to things like this? Why just me?
Hazel Denise, I will not tell you again, baby-girl upstairs to your room now and get dressed!
I said No! I don’t want to go with you. I hate going to your stupid meeting; they’re boring and long, plus I hate wearing dresses and ruffled socks. I am not a princess, mamen, I am a ninja.
I swear, sometimes princess, I wish I had all boys. Look, honey, your brothers have practice again, and your father is out, and this meeting is very important, kind of life or death, so look, I will make you a deal. If you go get dressed now, you don’t have to wear the dress I picked out; you can wear whatever you want, and you will enjoy this meeting.
I looked up at my mamen skeptical because she says this about every meeting she drags me along to but I never enjoy them because we are always meeting someone at her office, restaurants, or hotels and I am to sit there with my headphones looking at a tablet or listening to music while they talk for what seems like hours in another language. It isn’t that I would know because I never really actually checked a clock for a kid my age, thirty minutes feels like twenty-four hours when it’s something you'd rather not sit through. But I guess this time I will humor her and see what is so different about this time.
This time, princess, we will meet with this very important associate at the park, doesn’t that sound fun?
She had to be fucking kidding me right? I might only be nine years old, but I am far from being an idiot. What type of grown-up meets for a meeting at a children’s park, Mamen?
Hazel Denise bouge tes fesses et va t habiller maintenant ce n’est plus a debattre.
Chef oui chef!
If I didn’t love you so much, baby girl, I would turn your backside red.
I hate it here!
So do I, princess, so do I!
I didn’t hate it here, I loved it, especially when I got to play with my older brothers Haziel and Jasiel, or should I say fight with them. Because I always irritated them both to no end until they would try to use some of the karate moves that they are learning with Sensei, but my teachers are better. So no, I didn’t hate it here, but I did hate when my mamen dressed me up like a princess and prided me around at her meetings like I was on some kind of runway. She knows I hate dresses, ruffled socks, dress shoes, and anything else that is pink, cute, and girly. Only Uncle Morris-Lee truly understood me and allowed me to dress how I wanted. As I walked into my room and saw the big, fluffy royal blue dress with the gold trim and ruffled socks to match, I wanted to scream. Mamen thinks just because I am nine I should love these things but I hate them it’s not who I am, it’s not who I am being raised to be especially not by her she has always allowed me to be myself love myself but as of the past two years I noticed that she changed not just with me but with my father as well. I decided right than and there that since I had to go and didn’t have to wear that stupid dress anymore I would wear something that would piss her off. I head into my closet, grabbing an outfit I love that Uncle Morris-Lee brought for me on his last visit to the States. It is a oversize rugrats shirt, wide legged jeans with a chain that hangs from the belt loop and of course I will top off the outfit with some all black combat boots.
I know my Mamen will freak, especially once she sees what I did to my hair, but the one condition of me going anywhere with her is that my hairstyle is always non-negotiable. I take a long look in the mirror before hearing my mamen yelling for me to come down, that she will be in the car waiting. One more glance at myself in the mirror had me skipping out the door and heading down the large white double staircase with a smile on my lips for how much this was going to make my mamen freak out. As I made it to the bottom step the cook and two other of my parents employees spot me and shake their heads at my outfit and hair choice but again I didn’t care its my hair and body I am a kid we should be allowed to expression our artistic creativity well at least that is what the weird psychiatrist at my school says that treating all the rich kids with problems says. The moment I open the front door, the window to the back of the car comes down, and my Mamen looks like she is going to blow a gasket before she fixes her expression.
Hazel Denise, are you trying to upset me?
I don’t know, Mamen, are you upset enough to allow me to stay home?
No! Get in the car, princess, you will do as you are, I guess.
Please don’t call me princess, Mamen, I hate it.
She rolled her eyes as I got in the car trying to rub my hair down as we are driven, towards Memorial Hermann Park but when she realize the amount of mouse and styling gel I put on my hair she gives up saying she thought she had at least four more years until the teenage drama years began as she took a deep breathe. When I looked up at her, she was looking out the window as she spoke, not at me, and she looked worried, stressed, and sad, which made me feel bad about acting out so much.
I am sorry, Mamen!
I grabbed my Mamen's hand as I apologized because I hate seeing that look on her face, and inside her eyes, it breaks my heart.
It’s okay, princess, I understand the pressure that is always put on you, and one day, when you are older, you will understand why, but this meeting is very important to me today.
She gave me a stern but loving look, and I rolled my eyes at her for calling me princess again, even though she knows I hate it, but she does it anyway. She knows it irritates me, but continues to do it even after I have told her numerous times that I hate it. But no matter how many times she angers me with that name, I still hold her hand close to mine, listening to her every word.
I promise Mamen I will be on my best behavior today.
Thank you, Minnie Mouse, I know you will, but look, when we arrive, you don’t have to stick around, you can go do whatever it is that little warrior princess does, just don’t go too far, please, I will meet with ki... I mean, I will meet with Mr. Costello, then I will come and find you once we are done.
I have heard that name before I know I have on more than one occasion I even remember going to visit uncle Morris-Lee in China and him having a meeting with the very same Mr. Costello but for now I will push it to the back of my mind because like my mother have always taught me that it is best to act as if you don’t know anything. People always seem to overlook the child in the room, thinking we don’t understand or we aren’t really listening, but I hear and understand very well. I nod my head yes, ma’am, at my Mamen's words, and she smiles at me, bending down to kiss my head before going back to typing on her phone. Before I turned my head to look at the train that happened to be going by at that very moment I seen that she was texting uncle Morris-Lee making me excited because just maybe he would be coming to the states to visit us or I would be visiting him and my cousins in China especially Christian Lee I miss him the most. I was so deep in thinking about all the great fun that I could have with them that I barely heard my mamen speaking in French to our driver.
Come on, Minnie Mouse, and remember not to far. I will find you once I am done, one hour to two hours tops, then we can go do something fun just the two of us.
I nod my head as we both stepped out the back of the car I watched my mamen fix her tight fitted royal blue dress pants and white button down blouse before she tightened her long black curl hair into a neat ponytail at the back of her head as she went towards the large gazebo stepping under the canopy and hugging a very tall white man who hugs her back. Two things happened at that moment. The man meeting with Mamen turned towards me, smiled, and winked right at me as soon as a group of mean girls from my school appeared behind me, calling me a freak.
Ashley: Hazel Denise, you are such a freak.
Lisa: No, you mean she is such a dork.
April: Hahaha! The better word to call her is a dyke.
As Ashley, Lisa, and April all laughed and called me names, I closed my eyes counting to ten, trying not to cry but also trying not to turn around and punch all of them in their faces because that will not be being on my best behavior to allow my mamen to continue her meeting. I noticed that even though the man was in deep conversation with my mother, her back was towards us, and he sat so that he could see me, and it looked as if he was still staring directly at me, like he was awaiting my reaction. Could he hear the things they said from over there? I don’t know, but his dark gray eyes stared this way as if he could. I couldn’t allow this to end badly for my mother, she had already seemed so stressed. Especially with the news I had given her last time, with what I had overheard and seen at the park that day. So instead, I head towards the bridge where the pond is located, still hearing the mean girls laugh and make jokes about me. I just needed to get away from them and everyone else.
I notice that I was still in sight of the evil trolls but out of view of my mamen and Mr. Costello so if they happened to come over this way and bother me after I took the higher road and happened to get hurt in the process by my fist landing in any of their faces there wouldn’t be any witnesses to the crime. I bent down looking into the small pond getting closer so I could get a better look because I noticed unlike my last visit here there are fish inside the pond and none of them are the same well there are two of each but all of them are different sizes, colors, and shapes making me look at my reflection in the water than look over to the girls that always pick with me and I see the same thing I see in the fish in this water different color, shapes, and sizes but does that make me a freak?
My Mamen, uncle Morris-Lee, and Christian always tell me how beautiful I am and to not pay attention to those who make fun of my skin color or the way I dress, but how can I when everyone at my school is different from me, which makes me the freak of them all. As I looked back down into the water, seeing the one rainbow fish that is different from all the others, I smiled at it because it is beautiful, but then I jumped and my heart went into overdrive when I felt someone behind me.
Marco: You really shouldn’t be over here alone, you are a girl, it isn’t safe, bellissimo.
I turn to see a boy standing tall, confident, and graceful in a white button-down shirt nicely tucked into his royal blue pants that sit perfectly above his black suede loafers. There wasn’t a wrinkle in sight on his perfect clothes, even for him to be at a park. He was older than me, I could tell that much, he just wasn’t older than me by that much, though maybe three or four years, but by the way he dressed, he looked like he could be one of my Mamen business partners, or maybe even Mr. Costello's son. As I looked from his feet up towards his face, really taking him in my mouth went dry, and my heart started to beat faster within my chest, taking in this boy's beauty. He was like a beautiful angel that I read about in my books; his beautiful gray eyes stared into mine with a smirk on his lips, and his dark brown, almost black hair blew a little as the wind did. It was the first time I looked at a boy ever and felt my heart pound so fast and hard in my chest, and let's not forget my cheeks feel like they are on fire. Is this how you feel when you like, like someone?
This tall, handsome boy with the white, tanned skin, dark brown hair, dreamy gray eyes, and perfect smile with two dimples was everything I had envisioned in the angels I read about, and the way he smiled down at me let me know he was my angel. Well, he was my angel until he spoke again.
Marco: Are you some kind of mute or something?
What?
Marco: So you do talk instead of just staring like a crazy mute person. Now, what are you doing down there on the ground?
As I looked up at him, I knew he could now see the ignorance in my eyes that I had towards him. He was beautiful, but he was also rude, just like the mean girls from my school who happened to be here at this park today. Maybe he should go talk with them, they would love to hang around a boy like him who is just like them. Stupid, rich, rude, and entitled.
What does it look like I am doing? I am trying to have some alone time and watch the fish swim.
Yep, he could tell that I no longer wanted to talk to him from the smirk he gave me, but instead of him leaving he looked me up and down as if he was trying to study me somehow before he speaks again, asking me what I have on making me look down at my clothes. Oh my god, this boy was going to make me stand up and punch him in the face.
I have on clothes!
I was thinking that I could ask him the same thing because even though he was older than I by a few years, no kids I knew dressed like they were getting ready for a business meeting, which was exactly how he was dressed at the moment, and at a park at that. But the kids don’t look like they would appreciate me insulting his clothes.
Marco: I can see that I am not blind, bellissimo, but why do you have that on now?
Why does it matter to you?
I get ready to stand up when I see him give me his hand, so at first I look at it, but when he smiles down at me in an encouraging way so I take it. The moment I take his hand, it feels like he electrocuted me, but it wasn’t in a bad way, like when someone dies. But it was shocking through our hands, then a warm feeling shot from my hands right into my chest, making my heart pick up speed again from just his touch. Stupid freaking emotions we are suppose to be hating him because of his rudeness and arrogance.
Thank you.
Marco: So you do have manners?
I was starting to hate this boy. I pull my hand from his at his words, which makes him take a step towards me, invading my personal space like not only did he have to insult me, but also take always my right to privacy as well? With his I am so handsome, so smart, so rich, and so much better than you persona.
Have you ever heard of personal space?
He doesn’t answer my question, or he doesn’t step back like a normal person would have when asked a question about space; instead, he stares at me like others do at my school. I see there in his eyes, which freaks me out because usually after the stares someone makes rude or mean comments about my skin tone, clothes, or even size and height. I know I am a lot smaller than most kids my age, but who cares?
Marco: You are very beautiful, bellissimo.
What?
Marco: I didn’t stutter, bellissimo, I said that you are very beautiful.
I froze at his words, trying to find truth in them as he looked into my eyes, as I looked down, then back up, but making sure my eyes looked all around the park, just everywhere but back into his eyes. As I looked around the park, my eyes saw that we are being watched by the very mean girls that had me retreating towards this private spot in the first placeAshley, Lisa, and April. I think I kind of blanked out for a minute, thinking until I heard my name being called by this beautiful, rude boy before me.
Marco: Hazel, your eyes are beautiful.
What? How do you know my name?
Marco: I don’t know your name. I said that your eyes are hazel, and they are beautiful, just like you.
Oh, thank you!
Marco: You’re welcome. So your name is Hazel?
I nod my head, trying not to stare at the boy in front of me, because one moment I want to hit him in the face, and the next I want him to touch my hand again to feel what I just felt. It was impossible not to look at him and all his beauty because boys at my school were cute, but none of them were anywhere as beautiful or charming as him. I sneak a peek at him into his eyes, and his dark gray eyes now light up with something, but I don’t know what, as he catches me looking.
Marco: Well, Hazel, I am going to make you my princess.
What? I don’t want to be a princess!
Marco: Well, I will just make you my queen, just like my father did with my mother.
What? Wait, I am a kid. I don’t want to be a princess or a queen, I just want to be me, Hazel Denise.
The boy who stood in front of me had stopped listening to anything that I was saying; he was now talking to himself, saying something like he had found his queen, just like his father had, and we would marry. Which freaked me out even more. As I said marriage out loud, he got even more excited, saying he would go let his father know immediately that he found who he wanted to marry, but I was thinking about how my parents acted towards each other lately, being married to each other. Before I could say anything to him about us being children again, he surprised me by leaning forward, kissing my cheek, then my lips, making me freeze as he called me amore mio, running off, telling me not to move that he would return.
I nervously looked around the park to see that April and her group of minions all had seen him kiss me. Their mouths hung open as their eyes were enlarged with shock, but also in April's eyes, I saw jealousy and anger. I also at that moment heard my name being called from not too far away, so I turned in the opposite direction to look to see who it was. After all, I couldn’t make out the voice, because I heard my heart beating within my ears. When I did a complete turn around that is when I spotted my mamen standing there calling for me, so I looked in the direction I saw the boy take off to, to see if I saw him, but he wasn’t there and he wasn’t on his way back to me.
I can say, even though I was very confused by this strange boy and his rude but charming ways, I was also very much disappointed when I didn’t see him come back, especially with me having to leave. So I turn back towards my mamen, walking her way with my head down but one last time before she wraps me in her arms calling me her princess I look back for the charming boy because her words of calling me her princess reminded me of him calling me his princess but he still wasn’t there. She hugs me tightly, asking me if I am ready to go, and I nod my head yes, but I want badly to say no as she guides me towards our waiting car.
