"Oh, for god's sake, you went on to a prestigious university! You have such a short memory? Look at you! How quickly you forget! Remember you went to the police station? I was the one who interrogated you. Ring any bells?"
Hazel tilted her head and waved her hand, murmuring,
"Hey, stop being loud! You are making me nauseous!"
"What? Nauseous?"
Before Bradley got that, Hazel already stumbled towards the bathroom.
"Hey, wait! Be careful. Let me help you."
Looking at the punk lying on the ground, Bradley hesitated for a moment while other police officers came over.
He went over to explain what had happened and then handed his gun over to them.
"Hey you guys take care of this. I ... I got a family emergency. Gotta go."
Bradley hurriedly made up an excuse and ran towards the bathroom.
"Hazel! Hazel Hoffman!"
He ran to the bathroom, only to find that no one was there.
"Oh man, where did she go? Where is she? She is drunk! For god's sake, she is driving me crazy!"
He hurriedly walked down a street to find her.
Finally, he saw her staggering on a street.
"Hazel, Hazel! Wait! I'm gonna take you home!"
Bradley ran forward as fast as he did when he was in the running races at the police academy, and finally caught up with her.
"Hazel, Hazel! Wait!"
***
"Get your hands off me! You dickhead!"
Hazel shouted and stamped while frowning.
When she pushed him away, she got wobbled like a tumbler, which made Bradley worried.
Finally, she fell into his arms, and her head hit his chest. It hurt.
"Hey, you stay on campus? What's your dorm number?"
Bradley held her and asked gently.
While Hazel was just gasping for breath, like an old bull.
After a while, she still didn't answer him, so he rubbed her face and asked,
"Hey, say something! It's cold. We can't just stand on the street all through the night! Come on. Say something! What's your dorm number? I'm taking you there."
Hazel rubbed her face against his chest as if she was gonna tell him her address. But to his surprise, she didn't. Instead, she began to cry loudly.
....
Bradley was stunned and overwhelmed.
He patted her and explained anxiously,
"Hey, don't cry. I was not yelling at you. Why are you crying? Please, stop, okay?"
"I'm begging you now. Stop crying. You hear me?"
"Now you make me want to cry!"
Hazel just kept crying, cars besides going past her.
The chill night breeze seemed to freeze her heart. Leaning against Bradley, she kept crying for half an hour.
Her tears wet his leather.
Seeing this, Bradley was heartbroken. After all, the leather was new.
"Stop crying. Why the hell are you crying like this? What's going on?"
For the past half an hour, he had been repeating these monotonous sentences. All he wanted was to stop her crying.
***
Finally, Hazel gradually stopped.
She rubbed her face covered with tears, raised her head, and squeezed a bitter smile to Bradley.
He thought that she would probably say something like "Thank you" or "I'm fine".
But to his surprise, she blinked and said four words,
"I am so sleepy."
Then she titled her head and fell asleep in his arms.
"Hey! Hey! You can't do this. Wake up!"
"Oh come on. You really have a thick skin, don't you?"
Now look at you. Sleeping like a stone. What am I gonna do now?"
For god's sake, remember, you made me, Hazel. Don't blame me for doing this."
Twenty minutes later, Bradley, the policeman, brought the sleeping Hazel back to his apartment.
"Hey, just so you know, this is my place. But, don't get me wrong. I'm not thinking about anything. It's you. You don't tell me your address."
"A policeman should serve the people. I won't take anything from people and of course, I'll do nothing to you."
Bradley murmured and put Hazel on his bed.
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