Hate Notes

Chapter 15

I've only known three emotions my whole life.

Anger.

Hate.

Pain.

I let those emotions control my life, let it be an obstacle in every relationship of mine, and let it cloud all my judgement.

I had a friend before. Stacy. Stacy was someone I took comfort in. She was a loophole, an escape from everything. We met senior year in high school. She wasn't in my class. She was a year behind me, but I liked her. I liked being around her. I liked how I was around her. She was the only one I let see a part of me the others didn't. Looking back now, I wish things had turned out differently. I wish I had given her a second chance. Our friendship turned sour the moment I found out she liked Jesse. For me, anyone who had liked Jesse was an enemy, so I pushed Stacy away. I acted horribly, and she never looked back. Sometimes, I thought about her. I thought about the what ifs. I thought about all the things I had missed.

I wasn't exactly sure how this came to be. I couldn't explain it, but I felt the calmness take over my entire being. The kind that slowed me down. The kind of calmness that left me trembling with every shudder of warmth it left me with.

The kind of calmness that came with what happened next.

Jesse brought us back to the cabin. With one look, Cece knew I was going to stay. Kelly didn't question our change of decision despite knowing we lied before. Jason was still upset, but sent me a grateful smile.

This was the first time I took a decision that involved me caring about the other's feelings. This was the first time I pushed my selfishness behind to make others happy.

Things between Jesse and I weren't awkward for the reminder of the days. Though, we haven't spoken again, we eased out of our armours. I didn't believe there was much left to say. Everything we needed to talk about had been aired out, and quite frankly, I didn't think I wanted to talk about it again. Neither did he. We left the cabin on Sunday and I rode with Cece.

It was almost three am when I stirred awake by a light touch on my face. It was Jesse. His pinewood scent filled my nostril before I opened my eyes. It was six nights ago that we had fallen into this new routine-a weird way to seek comfort from each other without gaining anything. It started when Jesse called me one drunk night. I picked him up from a bar and he spent the night at my place. Despite giving him a pillow and a blanket to crash on the couch, he always finds a way to slip into my bed. The first time he did it, I was stunned, but it quickly dissolved the moment I succumbed into his warmth and the heat from his body. It's a bit alarming the way we settled into a comfortable routine. Every time I curled my hand around his arm, I put blame on muscle memory.

It became a habit, which happened often, but not through the whole week. At first, he would knock, then I would wordlessly guide him to my bedroom and cuddle to sleep. The next morning, he would be gone. Unlike the previous nights where he knocked, I thought it was easier to give him a key, so I did that. Jesse didn't react to the key, but he fisted it in his palm and left. The first time he used the key, I was almost half asleep when I heard him. Jesse had never been silent-he didn't need to be. I knew him well enough to know loud or quiet, I knew when he walked into a room.

One night, he came into my room tired. He was tired and looked spent, so I wordlessly helped him out of his clothes and into the new pair he left behind in my closet. I tucked him to bed and he would hold his breath until I was settled on my back. He would tug me into the cradle of his arms and it would be exactly what we needed: muscles relaxing, breaths coming out easier, and mind unwinding from that day's events. It felt like an entirely different reality where every worry was erased and it was just the two of us. How comfortable and easy it was to be close to one another-for my fingers to play with the edge of his sleeve, tracing his pulse point. For his fingers to loosely card through the soft locks of my hair.