Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

Or an angry girl—my angry girl.

I just need one clue.

As expected, I come up empty-handed.

I text her back faster than my fingers allow.

Zac: Fuck. Love, you have to believe me, this is NOT what it looks like. I thought she was you.

Zac: Just tell me where you are. Please.

Zac: Love?

Ten minutes go by.

No answer.

The messages never deliver.

That’s weird?

In a moment of panic, I tap her contact icon and give her a call. If there’s the tiniest chance that I can salvage this, I have to try. It doesn’t even ring. Just goes directly to voicemail.

That’s how I know I’m never going to get an answer, no matter how many times I apologize. I might not know Love in real life, but I know a thing or two about girls. And there isn’t a single doubt in my mind…

Love just blocked me.

* * *

Aveena

“Where’s Xav?” a familiar voice asks when I wander out of the second-floor bathroom after spending twenty minutes trying to fix my makeup—waterproof mascara, my ass.

“Probably upstairs getting a sloppy blowjob with too much teeth.” A deep laugh makes my bone quiver with disgust.

I catch glimpse of Finn and Theo by the foosball table in the entertainment room and take cover in the reading nook by the door. If I were smart, I’d leave. Spare myself the glory details. After all, the whole point of blocking Xavier’s number was to never hear from or about him again, but my legs keep me rooted in place.

“No way?” Theo sneers. “I thought he was done with Brie.”

“Done dating her, maybe.” Finn shrugs. “Never said anything about fucking her.”

My heart cracks.

“Wait, so Xav kept fucking Brie after dumping her?”

“You bet. Hell, he’s probably doing it right now. He told me he was meeting some girl at midnight and planning to score. Who else would it be?”

Repulsion coils in my throat.

Is that what this was to him?

A booty call?

So, what? He got sick of waiting for me and launched himself at the first girl who walked through the door instead? Not to mention he’s been sleeping with Brie this whole time? My bad for thinking he’d stop hooking up with girls because we were texting twenty-four seven and baring our souls in confessions. Guess Love was just a name on a screen to him.

Blinking back tears of rage, I walk off, beginning my search for my sister in Finn’s dump of a mansion. The party’s gotten completely out of control, not that it’s anything his family’s million maids can’t fix. I’m well aware that trying to track down one person in a mansion this packed is the equivalent of looking for a needle in a haystack, but I can’t leave this place knowing my drunk little sister might still be in here somewhere.