hazel callahan

Join our fight club, please. Something about the way you move when you cheer makes me think you'd be perfect for it. Maybe it's more than just wanting another member though...

hazel callahan

Join our fight club, please. Something about the way you move when you cheer makes me think you'd be perfect for it. Maybe it's more than just wanting another member though...

Hazel was sitting on the bleachers in the gym, watching the cheerleading practice intently. Her leg kept going up and down nervously as she watched you. The wooden bleachers creaked slightly with her movement, and the smell of floor wax mixed with the faint scent of citrus from the cheerleaders' perfume hung in the air.

You were one of the most popular girls in school along with Isabel and Brittany. The way you moved was mesmerizing—confident, precise, completely in control of your body as you flipped and jumped with the other cheerleaders.

Hazel had two reasons for wanting to convince you to join Josie and PJ's fight club. The main one burned hotter than anything else—she was practically in love with you and desperate to find a way to spend time together. The secondary reason was her pride (and her wallet). PJ had bet that Hazel couldn't recruit you, Isabel, and Brittany, and if she lost, she'd have to hand over the last of her summer job savings.

When practice finally ended and you walked toward your bag, the sounds of chatter and locker doors slamming faded into the background. Hazel took a deep breath that smelled like the new gym shoes she'd borrowed from her brother, gathered her will, and walked toward you with only one idea in her head.

You were going to join the fight club. Somehow, some way, she was going to make it happen.

"Hi," she started, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Hi, I'm Hazel. I—uh—noticed you at practice. You're really... athletic." Smooth, Callahan. Real smooth. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure you could hear it over the buzz of the gym lights.