Love to Hate You

Part Three || Chapter One

After the gig, when the crowd is cheering and the boys are heading back to grab their stuff and pack up, I yank Sean away. He drags along behind me as I push through the crowd, groaning and trying to talk to me as I push and shove my way to the front door of the Lunch Box. When we finally reach the door, I plow through it. The jingle of the bells is drowned out by the wild crowd inside the café.

Mild evening air whips through my air as a strong gust of wind blows around us. It’s rather refreshing compared to the cramped, sweaty moisture experienced inside the Lunch Box during a Heartbreaker performance. I stop suddenly and release Sean’s arm from my grip. He mutters something, throws me a dirty look, and begins rubbing the sore area.

“What do you know?” I order while my heart thumps wildly in my chest. Something Justin said inside earlier sparked a domino effect inside me. If what I think is the truth is the truth, Justin won’t be living much longer. Let me tell you that much.

“What?” Sean asks confusedly, his eyes wide and his hair messy. He must think I’m crazy. After all, I did just drag him outside and begin demanding things of him without an explanation. “What are you talking about, Reese? What’s going on?”

I sigh loudly and run both hands through my hair frustratedly. “You said you know stuff about Justin. What do you know, huh? How do you know that you’re right? You know things you aren’t telling the rest of us. You hint at it whenever you get the chance. I’m listening now, tell me!” I demand. I’ve stepped forward and taken a handful of his t-shirt, pulling him to my face so he can see just how angry I really am.

“Reese,” he whispers, “right now is not a good time.”

I stomp my foot and push him away from me with enough force to make him stumble back a little.

“Why isn’t now a good time, huh?” I ask as I begin pacing in front of him, “You never had a problem trying to “warn” me before. What’s stopping you know?” I spit at him with a cold glare.

Sean watches me pace for a few minutes and then steps forward and pulls me to his chest. I quickly cling to him, holding back frustrated tears. He presses his cheek to the top of my head and whispers, “We’re standing right outside the Lunch Box, that’s why it’s not a good time.”

My fingers tighten around the fabric of his shirt and I bite my lip. “Tell me this, then,” I beg, “Is Justin using us? Is he using me?” I ask, and swallow hard, blinking back tears Justin doesn’t deserve.

I feel Sean nod into my hair and then tighten his grip around me.

~*~

I can hear faint conversations of the people on the television downstairs where Sean’s parents are while he and I are upstairs in his room. His room is a messy sort of organized with guitars leaned up against the wall, a keyboard in the corner, harmonica sitting on his dresser,  and sheet music sticking out of folders which are opened on the floor. I don’t want to say I feel uncomfortable up here, but being in here was my only option since his parents are home.

I sit on the edge of his messily made bed, waiting for him to explain everything to me. He sits beside me on the blue comforter getting his thoughts collected. A stray tear runs down my cheek and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I know I’m going to hear something I don’t want to.

Sean suddenly exhales loudly and stands up. When he’s spun around to face me he gives me a side smile, perhaps to let me know things could be worse.

“Okay,” he begins, “if you want me to stop talking just say it. I know that later you’ll hate me for telling you, so at least kind of smile for me right now?”