Hazel

The familiar aroma of buttered popcorn hung in the air, a casualty of a fierce, yet ultimately meaningless, popcorn-eating competition.
Jasmine, my best friend, was doing a triumphant little dance, scattering bits of popcorn everywhere. Andrew, our other best friend, just grimaced.
"Don't get hotheaded. You won once," he muttered.
Their usual banter escalated, a familiar soundtrack to my life. I flicked through pictures on my camera, capturing the moment. Then, the mood shifted. Andrew brought up Sean, Jasmine's recent ex. The air grew thick with unspoken hurt.
Jasmine's voice was tight. "I don't want to talk to you about it. I don't want to talk to anyone about it."
She got up abruptly and left the kitchen, the distant slam of my bedroom door upstairs echoing her frustration.
"I told you," I sighed, looking at Andrew. "We should give her space. Sean broke up with her only a few weeks ago."
He ran a hand through his blond hair, his eyes fixed on the empty doorway. "I'll try to talk to her."