Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

“Ash, you’re better than this, the body shots, making out with some jock in a bathtub. I know you’re hurting, but this isn’t going to help.”

I could smack myself for lecturing her. I’m aware I sound like Mom right now, but I’m embarrassingly clueless as to what I should say. How do you talk to your sister knowing you lost your virginity to her ex-boyfriend?

How do you even look her in the eyes?

We go minutes without speaking. I tie my hair into a ponytail when we come across a red light. I can’t stand my hair getting in my eyes when I’m driving.

The moment the light turns green, Ashley blurts an indignant “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Caught off guard, I almost swerve off the road.

“What?” I yell, matching her tone.

“You’re going to lecture me about making out with some guy when you were doing the same fucking thing?”

My cheeks ignite with embarrassment.

If anyone finds my jaw, I’d like it back, thanks.

I swallow hard. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you think I’m blind? You have a hickey the size of my fucking fist, Vee.”

“I do?” I blurt, lifting a hand to my neck.

Damn it, Xavier.

“You’re unbelievable!” Ash huffs, propping her dirty heels on my dashboard, just to piss me off. She knows I hate when she does that. Flushed, I let my hair back down pronto.

“You’re avoiding the question,” I say, well aware that I’ve lost all credibility. “I know you, Ash. This isn’t you.”

A hoarse, hateful laugh vibrates in the back of her throat.

“Oh, you know me, huh? Well, I got news for you, sissy. We never really know anyone. That’s a myth. Take me, for example. Every time I think I know someone, they turn out to be cheating, abusive pieces of shit or a boyfriend-stealing traitor.”

I flinch at the last part.

“Wait.” I stiffen. “Abusive? W-What do you mean?” I grip the wheel so hard my joints ache. If Logan laid a hand on her, I’ll break his neck like a twig.

She plays deaf.

“Ash, did Logan touch you?” I urge.

She responds by leaning her head against the headrest and staring out the window.

I’m about to pester her some more when she decides she has more to say. “You’re such a hypocrite, Vee. Telling me not to sleep with some random guy when you literally jumped into bed with my ex!”

Guilt clogs my throat. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“Fine, then talk. How was Logan’s dick? Good? How did he feel? Did you come? Did he make you feel special?”

Her cruel questions are my breaking point.

I slam the brakes so hard Ashley shrieks in shock. I pull over to the side of the road, battling tears with all my might. I’ve spent years biting my tongue about the way she and Mom treat me, but I can’t take another second of this.

“Is that what you think? That I felt good?” I shout. “That I didn’t throw up in the bathroom as soon as it was over? That I didn’t hate every second of it?” Salty tears soak my mouth. “I slept with him because I was sad, Ash. And miserable. And lonely. You and Mom had been gone for days on some vacation without me. Then Logan showed up with a box of stuff you left at his place, and he was nice. He noticed my misery and pretended to care. He listened, and for the first time since Dad died, I felt like I mattered. So, when he kissed me, I let him. And no, it wasn’t good. He was inconsiderate and brutal during…” I can’t complete my sentence. “And no, I didn’t feel special. I felt like garbage, Ashley. But you wouldn’t know what that’s like, do you? Of course not. People have been listening to you since you were born,” I spit.

Drowning in tears and mucus, I grant myself a moment to still my anger before meeting her eyes. Her mouth hangs open, shock pasted on her face.