Hate Me Love Me

18| Show Me That You're Real 🩸

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

"It hurt, because it mattered." --- John Green.

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

Jo and Roland promise not to tell my father about what happened, and Jo even bakes me a pie after her meeting with the principal, to make me feel better. It's slightly overcooked, but she's getting there.

Julian stays out the whole day and when I'm telling Dylan a bedtime story, he knocks the doorframe.

I glance at him, still in his now-crumpled uniform, then back at Dylan, who's eyes droop closed, soft snores echoing around the room.

I walk with Julian to my room, and he stands awkwardly in a corner, a large plastic bag behind him.

'What's that?' I get straight to the point. The movie that Jo and Roland are watching downstairs suddenly turns to a loud song, and Julian jumps with the sudden surprise.

'It's uh, your uniform,' he says, handing me the dry-cleaners bag with my freshly cleaned, good as new uniform. I would've used my other uniform, not bothering to look for this one, but I'm very grateful he has it.

'How?' I ask, confused.

'It was nothing. You're my cousin. We're family, and I know I'm a wimp, but,' he sighs and shakes his head. 'It was the least I could do.

We talk a little more about songs and he tells me a bit about his favourite games, and then he goes to his room.

The principal felt sympathetic and told me to stay at home for one day, but I refused, saying that my education is more important. We argued for a bit, and then he declared it a suspension, giving me all the days work, so I can relax at home.

Clementine was given a week of suspension, but I spied her mother handing over a very thick mound of cash, therefore, she's consequence-free.

Having finished my homework, I look around my room for something to do other than read a book, because my legs are numb and I need to move. I spot the pile of notes that my father sent me, reminding me to call him or reply to his email, of which, I've done neither yet.

Deciding to go shopping, I tell Jo how to properly wrap up the dumplings she's making at home, and head out in a bright yellow sweater and jean shorts, with a bright pink shoulder bag.

When I've bought a dress and a couple of shirts, I spot Christian Denver.

'Chris!' I shout, getting his attention from a bag shop. He looks around for the voice, and, when he spots me, he walks over.

'Hey,' he says, no smile or wave. Just a tired hey.

'What's wrong?' I ask, shoving all my clothes into one bag so it's easier to carry.

He scratches his neck, looking around with a weird expression on his face.

'Chris? You can tell me,' I gently intone.

He sighs and looks down. 'I'm moving. To New York.'

I'm stunned.

'But, why? You love San Jose...' I trail on.

'Look, if you really want to know, I'll tell you,' he shakes his head in what seems like disappointment. 'The Aldrois kid left us no choice. He fired my parents, then offered them a better job in New York.'

Oh.

That absolute dog!

He has no right!

I fling myself onto Chris, hugging him, and then step back, feeling angry, annoyed and sad, all at once. I'm probably going to do something crazy again. I say goodbye to Chris, and walk straight into a shop that looks like it sells knives.