[wattys shortlist 2018]
Colton has always hated Alexis. It's as simple as that.
Alexis has never hated Colton though, not even after the night havoc was let loose: chaos caused by him.
This summer, Alexis doesn't expect to be reunited with her to...
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I open my eyes. My surroundings not quite so clear yet, I squint at what looks like the games field.
Oh. Oh, no.
In the whirlwind of the years I'd forgotten a few, crucial pieces of information. Colton's mom and brother left him. His dad's an abusive drunk. He has a secret. A secret that I didn't know but desperately wanted to find out.
Forgetting had been my bliss but now that I'm painfully aware of that night once again, I'm unsure how to react. We're all a result of our environment when it comes down to it. Maybe he didn't choose to become so volatile, maybe it was learnt through circumstance? But he still had a choice. You always have a choice.
And Peyton's right, I should've stood up for myself sooner and I'm glad I now have, but honestly? I can't be bothered scheming anymore, it's just not me. I'm strong in my own way and I don't care what anyone else thinks, I don't need anyone to validate me, so why should I continue to stress about it? It's about time I handled this my way and not simply avoid the issue. And really, my prank was crap anyway, it was just a pathetic excuse to let loose some steam and get the girls off my back; two birds killed with one stone.
I can't predict how Colton will respond to this fresh style but he can do what he wants, I couldn't care less. A small (stupid) part of me does care about him though. No matter how mean, he didn't deserve his home life — no one did. At the end of the day, it was easier to forget what Peyton had said, even if it was true or not, it made him human and ultimately harder to hate. It was annoying and just like the rest of that night, I tried to blank it but it and now it had come back to bite me in the ass.
Basically, I'm shook.
"Alexis!" I snap my eyes in the direction of the shout to see Brooklynn and Edna on the field, a bag of soccer balls beside them.
Children stand across from them in red and blue bibs although for the most part their just covered in dirt from a few tumbles. Each team seems to have gone for a different hairstyle, the french braid versus the pony tail. I dubbed the pony tails the winners: less mucky with hairstyles intact.
Brooklynn gives the word and the children run to the changing rooms located beside the dirt patch which is really just a hut with a fancy sign. She then beckons me and I follow suit.
"Hey," I say once I've reached them.
Brooklynn narrows her eyes. "Why aren't you with the rest of your campers fixing up your cabin?"
