Postcards and Polaroids

We got back to my house. I helped Celine out of the car, and went in. Kellin slowly followed.
“What’s your problem?” he said. I turned around.
“Excuse me?”
“What’s your problem. You don’t talk to me the whole drive home, and then you storm inside like I’m not even here. Is this about that party?”
“Well, you got some girl’s number like it was no big deal. And now you’re going to a party with her?”
“What’s the matter, you don’t trust me?” He said, his voice was getting louder.
“Of course I trust you.” I said “It’s other people I don’t trust. You didn’t see them, okay? The other girls in there. You didn’t hear what they said about you, or how they practically undressed you with their eyes.” He laughed. This made me more angry.
“Whatever.” I said. I started off up stairs. He called after me.
“Yeah, fine, whatever” he yelled “I’m going to the party. Bye”
And then I heard the garage door slam.
I went into my bedroom and slammed the door. How could he be like that? I barely wanted to be around those girls when they were talking about how attractive he was, along with other things in the perverted sense. They stared at him long before he started singing. And the last thing I wanted was for him to be around all of them alone. And they were all so much more attractive than me. This whole thing just sucked. I threw myself onto my bed and hid my face in my pillow.
I hated fighting with Kellin. I just wanted him to come back.
And now he was mad at me. That party was the last place I wanted him to be.