3.1 | Flawless | ✔

22 - I Hate Her

Blow Your Mind (Mwah) - Dua Lipa

22 - I Hate Her

Word count: 1873

"In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years."

- Abraham Lincoln

***

After Callum's obvious rejection, I had spent the rest of my day with a dejected mood. I wanted to hate him for saying the things he said but I couldn't. We both wronged each other, hurt each other in so many different ways. I think this is the only thing we do anymore - I hurt him, he forgives me and then he hurts me.

What a horrible cycle.

So when the weekend finally rolled over, I couldn't have been happier. Callum had blanked my very existence the rest of the days, pretending I wasn't here. Every single person in the group noticed it but didn't point it out.

By Friday, I wanted to bash his skull against a locker. He is impossible! I think he noticed my anger because the corners of his lips curled upwards. He was fighting a smile, fighting his amusement.

So now that I don't have to see his satisfied, triumphant eyes for two days, I'm feeling a bit better.

The only problem is: I have to face Jason. Yeah, I've been avoiding him for a few days. He hasn't tried to approach me, knowing I need space. When I do eventually gather the courage, I will thank him for doing the one thing nobody has done in a while - given me space.

I think I will speak to him before Monday.

The reporters have been hassling me all the time like that one stalker I had last year. I'm happy to say that he was arrested. I also have a restraining order against him. Fun times.

Casey has been on my case, trying to get me to contact Lulu. I'm not going to lie, I have been pretending I have no idea what she's talking about. For example, last night at dinner, when she brought up the topic, I told her I couldn't hear her because I had my headphones in. Oddly, she didn't pursue it.

I think she knew I was lying but let me get away with it, knowing she had all weekend to pester me.

So on Sunday morning, a loud knock resounds on my door. Rather sluggishly, I lift myself off of my bed and head over to the door. I swing the door open, only to meet the gracious face of Lulu. With her lips pressed together firmly and her eyes narrowed like slits, I can definitely say with a smile that she just made my day one hundred times worse.

Lulu barges past me, eyeing my clean room. She goes over to a seat by my dressing table and lowers herself on there, posing herself. I shut my door and go and sit on the end of my bed, crossing my legs together.

"Good morning, Whitney," Lulu says in a clipped, calculated tone. She regards me with disinterest and boredom. It appears the both of us don't want to be here right now.

"Morning," I reply, dryly.

"Right so," Lulu clears her throat and looks down at her manicured nails. "We have a few things to discuss."

"It appears we do," I note, staring at her handbag hanging on her shoulder. More specifically, the brown envelope inside. I can pick out a few letters of the word on the envelope - 'tract'. Instantly, I know what this meeting is about - me signing a contract.

Lulu follows my gaze to her bag and rolls her eyes, mumbling 'nosy little wrench' under her breath. I bite my lip to control myself from insulting her back.