If Only I Knew How to Hate You

Bailey

Third Eye Blind plays loudly in my ears. My eyes are closed and my fingers tap to the song on my stomach. I lie in my bed, otherwise refusing to move, refusing to think- just listening to the song.

Every day, it’s another fight. I don’t even know how this began anymore. It’s just one day after another- even when the guys come over. It’s rare, but they came a day or two, sneaking a chance away from their personal festivities to see how the two of us were faring.

Horribly, that’s how. Everyone left within the first hour because they refused to take sides. Alex wanted some music, I told him to shut it off. I wanted some chips, and he pulled out the beer. It’s like we’re doing anything and everything we can just to piss each other off and to our very limits.

At least, he is. I’m dying here.

And not feeling guilty, because he’s a rat. Everything I say is just a piece of truth he has to shove down that tiny throat of his. I mean, he deserves every word I have yelled and snarled his way. He’s acting like a self-righteous little brat, and I just can’t take it.

It’s nearly noon before I can make myself go down. When I do, I sit on the counter carefully and see the used coffee pot. But he didn’t leave any out for me. Groaning, I have to wash it out and begin making my own.

“Hey, I wasn’t done.”

I turn slightly. “There wasn’t any left.”

“Liar,” he buts in. “I had at least another cup in there.”

“No, you didn’t,” I tell him in an obvious tone.

“Oh sure,” he adds sarcastically. “Just like I had the last red bull last night.”

“You just- you know what, fine! I didn’t want coffee,” I snap, taking the coffee pot away from the water- but it slips out of my grasp, crashing on to the floor. I curse angrily, stepping away.

“You broke the coffee pot!” He yelps. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“Please,” I scoff, “if you had left me alone, none of this would have happened.”

He snorts. “You would have done it anyways.”

“I would not!” I bristle at his comment, throwing daggers his way. If looks could kill- well, we’d both long be in our graves. Very much so.

“You’re paying for that. And I need one for tomorrow morning,” he adds, shaking his head and walking away. So of course he would get the last word. I’m tempted to throw a piece of glass, but I couldn’t and I can’t think of anything else to say. So I can only scowl and watch him strut off.

So that’s why I wind up, two hours later, at Missy’s place. Well, our place. Sort of. I did start out in the place, after all. Then she moved me in… and kicked me out. Good times. Pressing my lips together, I open the door and see… red and green.

“Missy?” I frown.

“Bailey!” I hear her down the hall, running forward with her arms high in the air and big bright smile on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Uhm… what’s today?” I frown.

“The twenty-third,” she reminds me. “Why?”

Shoot… “No reason,” I mutter, shifting my crutch. “Um, anyways- my room still there?” I manage with an exhausted sigh. It was crazy, packing two bags and finding a taxi to bring me here.

“Yeah, but…” she furrows her brow. “What’s going on, hon?”

“Nothing. I just couldn’t stand the playboy any longer,” I manage to pass it off breezily. “Now are you going to help me with my things or not?”

“Oh- okay,” she stammers, completely thrown off by the sudden event. “Well, Zack’s parents are coming over tonight. Uhm… where are all your things? Is it just for a few days, or…?” She closes the door and gives me a concerned look. “Bailey? What should I know?”

“You should know… that I am very pissed off at Alex,” I nod slowly, trying to decide what else she needs to know. “And… I have been for many days. And… so I’ll just sleep out the next few weeks, yeah?” I manage a brief smile and stagger back to my old room. The old bed is still there with my extra set of sheets. Otherwise, the room is pretty sparse. Makes it a little lonely, but at the same time, it’s home.