Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

“That?

?s why you broke up, isn’t it?” I figure.

Her eyes are pinned to the dashboard as she gives a weak nod.

“What happened?” I say through gritted teeth, marinating in fury.

Ashley sighs. “He took my phone and checked my DMs when I was in the bathroom. He saw I was talking with some guy about music, and he lost his shit. Called me a cheating whore. That’s when I knew he’d gone too far and I had to break up with him. I told him it was over, and he…” She flinches, reliving the attack. “He pushed me into the bookcase in my room. I fell to the ground. Then, he pulled me up by my hair and told me you’d slept together. I don’t know what would’ve happened if Rob hadn’t gotten there the next minute.”

I can barely think straight, every muscle in my body tensing up in anticipation of a fight.

“I’m still a little bit sore in my back, but it’s getting better,” she tries to reassure me.

“Ash, you have to report him to the police.”

“Rob said I shouldn’t.” She fidgets with her fingers.

“Fuck Rob! Your manager doesn’t know shit. Logan hurt you. You can’t let him get away with this.”

“No, he’s right, Vee. I’m just starting out in the industry. I don’t need a police investigation right now. I just want to move on, never see the bastard again, and focus on my career.”

I disagree.

I’d love nothing more than to drag Logan’s reputation through the mud and expose him for the lying, abusive scumbag that he is, but at the end of the day, it’s up to her.

Ashley pauses for a moment as if to replay the words she just said and laughs. “If you can even call it my career.”

“What do you mean?” I question.

“I don’t know… It’s just… Mom’s pushing me so hard lately I wonder if I’d be pursuing a future in music if it weren’t for her. I love singing more than anything, but I’d also love to have a life, you know? Away from the academy’s preppy assholes and the unbearable pressure.”

Unable to pinpoint the words to make her feel better, I pluck a page out of her handbook and open my arms for a hug. Ashley welcomes the hug, resting her head on my shoulder for comfort.

“God, in moments like this, I wish Dad was still here. He would’ve never let me date fucking Logan in the first place,” Ashley confesses. “And he could remind Mom to let me breathe every once in a while.”

My heart skips a beat.

This is the first time Ashley has acknowledged our father in years. At least, in front of me.

“If he was, he’d run Logan over with his race car and make it look like an accident,” I point out, and we laugh.

“I miss him so much,” she admits.

“Do you?” I can’t fend off the curiosity. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s just… you never talk about him. Not on the anniversary of his death, not on his birthday. I kind of thought you didn’t remember him.”

Still in my arms, she says, “I used to… talk about him, I mean. Back when we were kids, but Mom would get so weird whenever I mentioned him. She’d look at me like I was––”

“A four-legged monster?” I finish.

She chuckles. “Something like that.”

“I know the feeling.” I withdraw from the hug.

“I still go see him, though. I visit his grave every month when Mom thinks I’m having dinner with Rob.”

“You do?” The tears are back in my eyes in an instant.

She nods.