Love to Hate You

Chapter Two

Waking up and getting out of bed is hard. Not to mention band practice and songwriting is some of the worst motivation. I’m seriously thinking about skipping out on both. I mean, why would I want to spend half of my day with Sean when he completely humiliated me yesterday? Justin is another story, entirely. Every time his face pops up in my head my heart sinks and my jaw tightens. If Sean humiliated me then Justin stripped me of my dignity. I feel like nothing. He had me wrapped around his little finger so tight that I actually thought I might be different.

The truth is, I’m not.

Everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. I can’t think straight. Everything from last night threatens to bring on a new fit of tears. I feel plain awful—and that’s just in the first twenty minutes of waking up. So, I text Austin and tell him I won’t be at practice today because I don’t feel well. Which, let’s be honest, isn’t far off. I don’t dare try contacting Justin or Sean. Sean will know why I don’t show up to help with the songwriting. Truly, I don’t want to write a song anymore, I don’t want to argue, and I don’t want to sing. I just want to cut off the band completely. If what Sean says is true, then I’ll only be helping Justin by staying.

Justin.

Justin Knight and his pathetic, egoistic, self-centered, gorgeous, heartbreaking self can jump off a cliff for all I care, right now.

I can’t even believe the nerve he had to try and ruin me.

Me.

Reese Bentley, the art geek, anti-social, argumentative, independent, hot-head that didn’t want to get involved in the first place.

Now what am I? Dependent? One of the guys? Heartbroken? Heartbreaker? Suddenly popular and desirable? What happened to me?

My eyes water, but I take a deep breath and curse myself for being so sensitive.

Reluctantly, I leave my room. Just as I’m stepping out so is A.J. The minute he sees me he frowns slightly and takes in my appearance. I didn’t change when I got home last night so I’m still wearing shorts and my baggy black and white tank top. My hair is messy and my eyeliner smudges around pink, puffy eyes. I swallow slowly and then turn away to jog down the stairs.

“Reese!” I hear him call after me. So, I stop and look back at him, trying to smile so that he doesn’t suspect any more than he already does.

He walks to the edge of the stairs and looks down at me with a worried expression.

“What happened to you last night? I heard you—um—crying all night,” he says embarrassedly, as if hearing me cry is a crime. Then again, I don’t cry often.

I look down, trying to think of a lie, something that he’ll believe. A.J. knows if you lie to him and he’ll do anything to find out what about. There are reasons that I don’t get away with anything in this house, and one of them is A.J.

I know that one thing to do is to look him right in the eye. So, I lift my head and force my red eyes to meet his worried gaze.

“I,” I begin. I can’t stutter or hesitate—that’s a dead give-away, “just found out that one of the Heartbreakers is quitting.”

He scowls as his eyes scan my face. Well, I’m not lying. One of the Hearbreakers  is quitting—or at least thinking about quitting, and that’s me.

“Why?” he asks curiously, “Why are they quitting? Why is it such a big deal?”

I sigh and look down at my fingers, which are playing with the hem of my shirt. “Because, they just don’t see the point in staying. They think the band is a waste of time.”