Repeat
14
Anger blossomed in her veins and she bristled, narrowing her eyes at him, the slicked-back hair and the rumpled flowers, the tiny smile on his mouth.
One half of her begged please take him back, look at his tiny little smile and he's such a cute dork and the other half snarled yeah, sure, go back to him, just so he can ignore you again and act like he's got more important things on his mind.
Her fingers flexed methodically around the edge of the wood, her other hand twisting into a fist around the fabric of her pajama pant leg as she ground her teeth.
"How can you?" she demanded, pushing a finger deep into the expanse of his chest. The tiny quirk of a smile faded. "Don't think you can come in here and try to woo me with flowers and pretend as though you haven't been ignoring me all week! A crushed bouquet and an 'I'm sorry' isn't going to fix this, Derek. Do you have any idea how I felt, trying to talk to a puppet who couldn't give a damn?" Lifting a hand, she rubbed her chest where the ache was.
"I didn't—" he tried, lowering the flowers. His expression turned sad and confused, just the barest hint of the emotions; it felt like a robot trying to be human, mimicking their expressions with their emotions.
Rage boiled her veins into smoke, evaporating any logic. She gripped the door with both hands and stomped down hard on his foot; he stumbled back with a short, guttural grunt of pain as a quick, brief fury crossed his handsome face.
"Do you have any idea how badly it hurts to be ignored? Especially by the person you're in a relationship with?" She drew a shaky, thick breath, struggling to keep the tears at bay. "I know you're trying to deal with the fight, but I want to help you. You can't just keep it bottled inside. One day, you're going to snap, and hurt someone very important to you, and I could've stopped it."
Another shaky breath burned her lungs. "I can't do this anymore, Derek, especially if you block me out. I want to be there for you, like a real girlfriend, but I can't do that if you don't trust me enough to treat me like I'm even remotely equal to you."
The tears, which had been pooling in her eyes, fell down her face, burning hot; her hands flew up and covered her face to hide the tears that dripped down her cheeks.
"Chloe, I—" he tried again, his face twisted in anguish, but she dropped her hands away from her face and narrowed her eyes, feeling unkempt locks of hair fall cross her vision.
"No! Just shut up! I can't keep doing this! I'm done, Derek. I'm fucking done," she screamed, her voice shrill and croaky, and shoved the door shut with a loud, reverberating slam. The window panes shuddered, vibrating; the glass warbled. He pounded on the door a few times, calling her name, but she shook her head and slid the bolt lock into place. From there, she slid down and cried until her lungs ached and she made herself vomit.
Lauren was, as expected, overjoyed about the breakup, but put on a flimsy exterior of sympathy.
"You don't have to pretend like you're sad about it," Chloe hissed, squeezing her hands into weak fists. She sounded stuffy and raspy and she was pretty sure she didn't look very threatening. When Lauren opened her mouth to argue or berate her, Chloe cut her off shortly.
"No, you're absolutely thrilled to see him gone. I don't think you ever even gave him a real chance. You took one look at him and saw a big, scary guy and thought 'oh, he's totally bad news' based on his looks! He can't help it."
To punctuate her tirade, the little blonde crossed her arms over her chest and locked her gaze on the picture frame at the landing of the stairs. It was before Jennifer died, the last big trip all of them had together.
She remembered bickering with Lauren over the color of her dad's shorts—they were totally salmon, not peach—and Steve laughing so hard, he had to hightail it to the toilet so he didn't pee himself. Jennifer had thought it was funny, and had sat in this big picnic chair, her legs crossed and golden. Big sunglasses took up most of her face, but her smile, snow-white against the brown skin of her tanned face, was big enough to rival the sunglasses.
"Do you ever miss her? Or do you think you can replace her?" Chloe asked quietly, staring into her younger self's eyes.
They were a clear, happy blue. Lauren was on one side, wearing a ridiculous amount of sunscreen and still looking lobster-red; Steve and Jennifer were hugging each other on the other side of Chloe; and she herself just looked so happy, surrounded by people who loved her, cared for her.
"How do you miss a person you hardly even knew?" Lauren was walking across the room, an angry jerk in her walk.
Heat flooded Chloe's face. "I don't know, but at least I'm not repla—" She hadn't realized Lauren was right next to her until the hand connected with her cheek and the sound of skin meeting skin rang hollow in her ears. Bright, red pain flared and the sound of blood rushing in her ears blocked out anything else Lauren might have said. "Mom would have never hit me. Never," Chloe whispered brokenly as she turned and took the five steps to the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" Lauren demanded in her short voice, which made Chloe's skin prickle with fear.
"Away from you." With those bittersweet words on her tongue, Chloe pulled open the front door and took off running, hearing Lauren scream after her. There was always the chance she'd use the car to hunt Chloe down but right now she needed space.
How do you miss a person you hardly even knew?