Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

Mom.

I also have three unopened texts from her.

Mom: Where are you?

Mom: Ashley has to be at school at seven a.m. sharp tomorrow. Early lesson. And you’re driving her. She can’t be late.

Mom: Aveena???

It’s barely eight.

I stay out later than usual once and she’s all over my case, terrified that I’ll disrupt her perfect schedule. I’m sending the call to voicemail when the back door swings open and Xavier bursts into Theo’s kitchen.

By no means am I excusing his behavior earlier tonight, but Finn wasn’t lying. Xavier does look like he’s having a grand time navigating life right now—note the sarcasm.

I wonder why he came back. Strike that—I wonder why he left at the mere sight of me. Last I checked, I’m not the one who dumped paint balloons on his white dress when we were kids, nor did I butcher his entire family with an axe, so I’d appreciate if he took the hostility down a notch.

“Still here?” he drawls when he notices me.

“Still a presumptuous asshole?” I snap back.

I expect him to double down on the nasty replies, to crush me with spite, so you can imagine my surprise when he clamps his mouth shut, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile. His pale eyes rake over my face for a second too long, and I squirm under his undivided attention.

Why, oh why, does he have to look like that?

Low blow, Life, low blow.

Oddly enough, I get the feeling that he’s never taken the time to look at me before. He sees me every day at school, yes. Sees my face in the crowd. Sees me around the lunch table somewhere in his herd of groupies. But does he look at me?

Nah.

Not like this.

Not like he’s discovering something new.

He seems like he’s debating on whether this “new” thing is good or bad. When his half-grin evolves into a full-blown smirk, I know he made up his mind, but I don’t have the means to translate the verdict in his eyes.

“What did you say your name was again?” He squints, an indicator of some serious brain racking.

My blood starts boiling.

The asshole took my first kiss and he can’t even place me!

“Aveena?” I say, hoping it will ring a bell.

He continues to assess me as though he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“I know you, don’t I?”

I scoff out a laugh.

Is this guy for real?

“We go to the same school? Not to mention hang out with the same people every day?”

He shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. I know you from somewhere. That’s what you meant earlier, right?”

I chastise myself for opening my big mouth. I should’ve left well enough alone.