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With a sigh, I picked up my clothes on the floor and wore them, as the bathroom door opened revealing Jordan who grabbed the blanket to herself. I stared at her for a while before I remembered that we fought.
She still wasn’t talking to me, or even looking at me. She fiddled with her fingers and for a second, I thought she was going to say something nice, maybe even apologize. But she said, “I'd like you to leave my house now.”
I frowned. That was how she wanted to play? Just send me away anytime she liked, knowing that I’d always run back?
I wasn’t thinking. I needed her to prove to me that she hated me as she claimed, so I walked to her vanity table and flung open her drawer.
She rushed over. “Stop it Jayden, I’m warning you.”
I didn’t listen to her.
I was mad, my blood was rushing hot through my body. ‘Leave my house, Jayden.’ ‘Leave my life, Jayden.’ I was tired of hearing them. I’d rather she killed me than admit I meant nothing to her.
I brought out the drawer and emptied it onto the floor. A small table knife fell and bent to take it. Beside it was a folded paper that sparked my interest, so I picked it up instead.
It was my letter, the letter I wrote to her ten years ago. It was still my handwriting, but was now photocopied. Even the way I misspelled ‘jealous’ was still there. I winced. Which fifteen-year-old couldn’t spell jealous.
The important part was that she still had it. She still had my letter, so why does she claim to hate me so much?
I snickered as I stood to her level. “Don’t you think you are keeping too many of my things with you? I thought you hated me.” She snatched the paper from me and tore it into pieces, throwing it up into the air.
“I do hate you.” She pointed at the pieces on the floor. “That proved it.”
“You think that proves you hate me?” I bent and picked the knife. She retreated with every step I took toward her, until she backed the wall. I held her hand and placed it around the knife in it.
“Stab me.”
“What?” She whispered in an almost inaudible voice.
“Stab me. Push this knife into my stomach while looking straight into my eyes so I can believe that you hate me.”
“Jayden, stop.”
I positioned her hand so the knife was facing forward and walked closer to it. She withdrew her hand with each step I took, until I lost it and yelled at her. “YOU CAN’T EVEN STAB ME, AND YOU CALL YOURSELF AN ASSASSIN.”
“You don’t hate me, Jordan, you’retryingto hate me. You want me to wait in my house till it’s my turn to die, right? Then that’s what I’ll do.”
Leaving her in the room, I left with my car keys. I got into my car, slammed the wheel multiple times and screamed, until I couldn’t feel my knuckles or my voice anymore.
Great Jayden,great. Fighting with her was just the absolute best thing to do. You know what, why don’t you go back in there and engage in hand combat with her? Or better yet, rent a boxing ring and punch each other, just the way you wanted.
It was never my intention to fight with her, nor was it my intention to create more hatred in her mind, but I had just successfully done that. I wanted to go back inside and apologize to her, I wanted to tell her I never meant anything I said, but she would never buy that. In fact, she wouldn’t hesitate to drive that knife into me if I went back.
Letting out a frustrated groan, I started the engine of my car and drove off. I would plan on how to get on her good side later. Hopefully.
21
ALEXIS
Stupid boy. That stupid boy. That fucking stupid boy.
I screamed again and ran my hands on the vanity table, scattering everything everywhere.
I hated him. I should have stabbed him when I had the chance to. I should have driven that fucking knife into his stupid throat and watched him choke on his own goddamn blood.
How dare he? How dare he get mad at me? Who did he think he was?
It was all my fault. I was the one who gave him too many opportunities. If I had killed him the first time I found out he was an Antonio, he wouldn’t have had the balls to insult me like that.