I love the girls who hate to love because they're just like me

My eyes opened slowly and I stared up at the small black and purple, spotted discolouration on my bedroom ceiling. There had been a leak upstairs a few days ago and now the ceiling tiles were starting to mould.

Great.

I turned over to look at my alarm clock and the glowing red numbers shone into my tired eyes. 2:24pm.

I groaned and shut my eyes again, kicking my blankets off lazily. I rolled over, until my body was no longer supported by the bed, and landed on the floor with a loud thump. Good thing I lived alone. That probably would've woken up anyone in the vicinity of three rooms.

I pushed myself up off the ground and stood up straight, stretching my arms over my head. I let out a loud yawn and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Looking down at myself I noticed my tank top had twisted around my body as I slept. I fixed my top and pulled my boy shorts down slightly so they were no longer riding up.

I made my way out of my room and down the hall, taking a right, into the bathroom. I grabbed my tooth brush from the sink and cleaned my teeth quickly, rinsing my mouth and spitting the leftover paste into the sink. I grabbed my hair brush from the counter and looked at the mess staring back at me through the mirror.

My long, blue hair was all knotted and stuck out in every direction. I lifted the brush and grasped onto my tangled locks, attempting to comb out the imperfections. I continued to stare at this girl in front of me: tired, poor and pathetic. Maybe the reason Tony cheated was because I wasn't good enough for him?

I stopped combing my hair and stared at myself more carefully. All the tiny imperfections on my face and body began to grow and seemed exaggerated. The small bump on the ridge of my nose, the tiny scar above my left eyebrow from when I had fallen up the stairs as a child, the slight roundness of my stomach, they all stood out so clearly now.

I gritted my teeth and threw my brush across the room. It smashed against the ceramic tiles of the shower wall and broke in half, falling down into the bathtub. I sighed and took a deep breath, leaving the bathroom in a hurry without another glance at my reflection.

I went back into my room and rummaged through my closet, trying to find the outfit I had in mind. I pulled out my red and black polka-dotted sweater, the one that had once belonged to Brett, and my only pair of baggy jeans that looked like they were a size too big for me.

I pulled on my clothes quickly and made my way into the kitchen. My stomach grumbled but I decided to ignore my body's demand and skip brunch. I made my way to the front door and grabbed my keys, shoving them into my pocket as I slipped on my vans.

I decided that I could use some fresh air.

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I stared up at the clear blue sky as I walked out of the forest. The cool breeze whipped my hair around and into my face as I walked back down the paved path, past the park.

I watched as the young men and women watched their children, the ones too young for school, play in the sand and climb on the small jungle gym. I was feeling slightly better.

I decided to head home as my stomach shouted yet another demand for food. I had been walking for about half an hour and I'd pretty much exhausted myself.

I crossed the street and made my way back into my apartment building, feeling a little light headed. My stomach growled again and I thought of all the possible sandwich combinations I had in my fridge. I was feeling ham and cheese.

I took the elevator up and, by the time I reached the fourth floor, I had made the decision that turkey and mustard ruled over the ham and cheese idea.

I stepped into the empty hallway and made my way to my door, an unusual bounce in my step. I would eat lunch and then head over to the mall for some more job hunting. The sun was coming up and I could see there was hope. But all of my hope died away as it got shot in the chest and was sent crashing to the ground, laying there defenceless.

I stared at my apartment door in confusion. A small white envelope stared me in the face, stuck loosely to the wooden door with a clear piece of tape. I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I reached a shaking hand out to pluck the letter from the door. I looked down at my hands and opened the envelope, slowly sliding the paper out.

Poor hope, why was he always the one to be crushed? He never did anything to hurt anyone.
My body froze and I could do nothing but stare as tears blurred my vision. My eyes were locked on the bold heading as it jumped from the page:

Eviction Notice

I couldn't believe this was happening. Sure, I had been late on my last few rent payments, but Jon had said that he would give me another shot. Now he was evicting me? This couldn't be right.

My eyes scanned down the page and the text made my hands shake.

Consider this to be official notice of your eviction. By the above date and time you are to have your belongings and possessions cleared from room number 410.
Sincerely, Jonathan Morris, Manager.

My fingers felt numb and my mouth went dry. I folded up the piece of paper and stuffed it into my back pocket, pulling my keys out in its place. I fumbled with the lock as my hands ignored my brain's request to function.

Once I got inside I dropped my keys to the floor and shut the door behind me. I fell back against the wooden plank and slid down to the dusty hardwood floor, shutting my eyes tightly.

You can't handle living on your own! You can't even do your own laundry, Avery! You're a god damn failure!

I brought my knees to my chest and let my head fall down, holding my hands over my ears.

My mother's words rang through my head every time I fucked up my life. To her I was a failure, a reject, and no good at anything. That's why I had to get out of that fucking town and away from the crazy female that called herself my mother.

Brett had done some research for me and found me an apartment building near where he lived. He had offered a room for me at his place, but I refused. I was determined to prove that I was capable of doing things on my own. Clearly, I was not.

I pushed myself up off the ground, sniffling as the tears began to form. I wasn't sure if they were from frustration, anger, or sadness. I bit my lip anyway, trying to force them back, but it was so difficult. I wouldn't cry; I simply wouldn't.

I strode across the wooden floor, my vans tapping lightly as I walked. I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed the phone off the wall, dialling the downstairs desk. Jon was sure to be there.

"Hello?" he answered, clearing his throat. His nervous habit appeared, telling me that he had read the call ID. He should have been expecting a phone call.

"What the fuck Jon?!" I shouted, not caring anymore. I was going to toss my anger at anything and everything until I felt better.

"Avery, I can't help you anymore. You know I'd love to but-" He cut himself short and sighed.

"Bull shit!" I interrupted, "You know bloody well you can still help me! There's just probably some other tenant that wants my room, am I right?" Although the crummy, one floor apartment wasn't too great, it did have a nice view of the park and forest across the road. "Your silence is very argumentative." Sarcasm laced my words as I spat them through the phone. He was so lucky he hadn't delivered this in person. I would've strangled him with my bare hands.

"Avery, listen-" he said sympathetically, but I was quick to cut him off.

"No Jon, you listen. I don't need your fucking apartment, all right? Give it to whomever it is that's waiting for me to leave. I'll just camp out in the park, no biggie." I prayed he was feeling as guilty as I was feeling sick.

"I'm sure you'll have some place to go," he said, but it sounded more like a worried question.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure I can just go back to my mother's." He sighed and I let out a huff. "Whatever." I slammed the phone down angrily onto the receiver and leaned my elbows on the counter, letting my face fall into my hands. I took a deep breath and let it out in a loud sigh, trying to figure things out.

There was no way I could tell Brett about this. Now that these two guys were staying with him there was no way I could tell him that I got evicted and lost my job. He already had two freeloaders, he didn't need another.

A knock at the door broke my thoughts. I lifted my head up and wiped my eyes quickly, getting up and walking over to the door. If Jon was coming to apologize he had another thing coming.

I stopped at the door and fanned eyes for a moment before reaching out to grasp the handle. I sniffed quickly, trying to compose myself, and swung the door open.

"Brett," I practically gasped, but he wasn't the same Brett I had last encountered. He had a serious expression on his face but his look changed immediately upon seeing my distraught expression.

"What's happened?" he asked quickly and I swallowed hard, debating whether or not to lie. I decided protecting him would be the best thing and I gave him a small smile, stepping aside.

"Just watching some sappy soap opera. Come on in." I tried to avoid his gaze but Brett caught on, stepping inside and shutting the door for me. He gave me a stern look and I knew I'd been caught. I pretended not to notice.

I made my way into the kitchen, walking quickly as I tried to get the letter before Brett could enter the room, but he was right on my heels. There was no chance of me getting to it in time. I would just have to hope that he didn't notice the crumpled papers scattered along the counter.

"Is there anything you want to say to me?" he asked and I turned around to face him. I attempted to be inconspicuous as I reached behind me for the letter, but Brett's brow furrowed. He leaned to the side, trying to see what I was hiding, but I stepped right into his line of sight. I continued to play clueless as I laughed lightly and shrugged my shoulders at his question.

"I love you?" He didn't see the humour in my answer and I pretended to look confused. His look turned serious and that scared me a little, though I would never admit that to him.

"I called Starbucks to see if you needed a ride home today," Brett said, folding his arms over his chest. Stupid! How could I have I been such a moron?!

My eyes widened slightly and a sudden lump grew in my throat. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"When were you going to tell me?" he asked. I could hear the hurt in his voice as he tried to cover it with anger.

"I-I don't know," I mumbled, looking down at the tiled floor, ashamed.

"What was the point of lying to me?"

"I'm sorry," I whispered, all that was able to escape from my lips, and he shook his head.

"I just...I don't get it." He wanted to know why I had lied, but I didn't want to admit it. "Avery." He placed his fingers under my chin and lifted my gaze so I was looking at him. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I-I didn't want you to think I was a failure too." My voice was barely above a whisper but Brett caught every word, his gaze softening.

"I would never think that about you, ever. Do you understand me?" he asked softly and I studied his eyes for a minute. I knew it was true, so I gave him a nod. His soft eyes bore into mine and I now felt obligated to tell him the rest of my sad story: the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.

His hand fell as I turned around, grabbing the letter off the counter. I faced Brett again and handed the folded sheets to him as the tears began to form in my eyes once more. He stared at me, his forehead creased in confusion, as he took the letter from my hands. He looked down at the paper and unfolded it slowly, allowing his eyes to skim the page.

After a minute, his gaze travelled back up to my sullen face and a single tear fell from my eye. It travelled down my cheek and Brett caught it with the back of his index finger before it reached my chin.

I watched his expression carefully and his eyes were the saddest I've ever seen them. They were like deep pools of blue; troubled and confused. I swallowed the lump in my throat and he shook his head slightly.

"Avery," he sighed, raising his hands from my cheek. He slowly ran his fingers through my hair, caressing me gently. I caved then, my head falling into his chest and my arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

"I don't know what to do," I whispered, the tears flowing down my porcelain cheeks. "It just...it all happened so fast." In my panic I began to ramble and Brett's strong arms held me tightly. "I got fired and then Jon said I was late with rent, and then he told me I had some more time, and now he's evicting me!" My voice broke and I felt like a stupid child. All I wanted was for Brett to tell me things were going to be all right. I would believe anything he said.

"Avery, honey, stop," he hushed me, rubbing my back softly. "Don't worry, everything's okay." It was then that I realized where his thoughts were headed.

"Brett," I said softly, pulling my head back so I could look up at him properly. I needed him to understand. "I'm not moving into your place." I had to try and be stern. I had to sound strong but the sobs were making it difficult. "I can't put all of this on you. You're my best friend and I can't guilt you into taking on another responsibility." He looked at me for a minute and then blinked a few times, laughter breaking out from his chest. My brow furrowed and he shook his head at me.

"Avery, did you ever think that maybe I want you to move in?" That still didn't change things. "I asked you that when you first moved here, when you wanted to get away from your mom. I wanted you to stay at my place from the beginning." Memories flashed of tears, sweat and blood and I shut my eyes tightly. I shook my head and Brett grabbed my face in his hands, causing my lids to open. He leaned down slightly so we were eye level and his soft smile comforted me, like always. "Avery, you're not a responsibility, you're my friend. You're my best friend and I want to help you. You're not doing this on your own." I didn't know how to argue with that.

"I hate you," I grumbled and he laughed, kissing my forehead and letting his hands drop.

"Only because I always win," he smirked and I rolled my eyes. He let his hands fall from around my body and I leaned against the counter, looking at him now with a serious expression.

"You're sure about this? You won't be too swarmed with three free loaders, will you?"

"The more the merrier," he grinned. "You know how crazy it is living alone?" I gave him a small smile and he wrapped his arms around me again.

"Thanks Brett," I whispered and I could feel him smile as he planted his lips atop my head.

"You know I'm here any time you need me." And that was true. Truer than any tangible object I knew. In that instant he pulled away from me and smiled warmly, his hands resting on my shoulders.

"Let's pack your things."