Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

And again.

Stop, Vee.

Fucking stop.

“No.” I come to my senses, shoving him off me and backing away. “I don’t accept that. You don’t get to trample my heart and refuse to tell me why. Fuck that. Fuck you.”

My chest is heaving up and down rapidly.

So is Xavier’s.

He dares a step forward, and I move further away.

“Tell me,” I all but shout. “Or lose me.”

He clamps his mouth shut, this heart-wrenching sadness gleaming in his eyes. It’s like he wants to tell me.

But he can’t.

“Fine.” I wipe my cheeks and turn away.

The closer I get to the door, the faster the pit brewing in my stomach expands.

Please don’t let me go.

Don’t lose me.

I grip the handle and begin to rotate—

“Wait,” Xavier blurts at the last second.

I spin, pain throbbing in me like a drumbeat.

“Give me one good reason why I should,” I plead.

I’m hanging on to him… to us by a thread at this point.

Then he says it.

“Because I love you.”

That’s all it takes for my walls to hit the ground.

I heard the words, but they don’t register.

“You… what?”

“You heard me.” He closes in on me. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the day I barbecued your babies and pushed you down the jungle gym just so I could kiss you.” He pauses, pain lacing his voice. “I fucking love you, Vee… And I’m paying for it.”

His speech pulverizes what’s left of my armor. Tears batter down my face,

my throat aching beyond belief.

“But you… you said you hated me.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he blurts. “Not for a fucking second. I thought you’d get it. I thought…”

“I’m sorry, is there a better way to interpret I hate you that I don’t know of?” I snap.