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Here we go. The fourth chapter of "Regrets".
Chapter 4: I Hate Everything About You
I hate everything about you
Why do I love you?
You hate everything about me
Why do you love me?
I hate
You hate
I hate
You love me
I hate everything about you
Why do I love you?
I Hate Everything About You – Three Days Grace
"Oh, God. What the hell happened last night?" I moaned, rubbing my sore head. I slowly tried to sit up, but after discovering the task was impossible without suffering some kind of pain, I lay back down, only to find someone laying next to me. "Oh my God! Mitchie, you freaking scared me."
"Sorry." She mumbled timidly, quickly standing up. "I was worried about you." She admitted, another faint blush covering her cheeks. I couldn't help but smile and she looked down at her feet. "Shane, what were you thinking?"
"I – I don't know. I barely remember what went on last night." I groaned, my head throbbing. Mitchie took a step to leave, and I suddenly blurted, "Mitchie! Mitchie, wait. Don't leave yet. Please, don't leave. I – I think we need to have a nice, long t – talk."
She sighed, then nodded softly. "I agree. Okay, first, let's start with what happened last night, whatever that was." Mitchie raised a thin eyebrow at me, and I nodded eagerly. "I'm not actually sure what happened. You punched Nate," – she shot me a cold glare – "then ran off. I was making sure Nate was okay, and he insisted he was, and then he suggested we find where you ran off to. So I said alright, then we went inside to tell Tess, Jason, and Ella where we're going. By the way, Ella is the one we met at…" She gulped, looking down. "Camp Rock."
I gulped too, and I felt my Adams apple bob up and down. "That's why she sounded so familiar." I tried to flash a cheeky grin.
Mitchie giggled, smiling, almost sadly, then continued her story. "So Nate and I drove around where we thought you had run off to. I said we ought to walk, but he said no, I'm such a beautiful girl, and he doesn't want anything to happen to me, because I'm the most important thing in his life right now…" She rambled, and I squirmed uncomfortably.
I coughed loudly. "And…?"
"Right. Sorry." She blushed. "And then we found you, laying in the alley by an old bar. Some men were crowding around you, but they scrammed as soon as they saw our headlights. And so Nate told me to stay in here, because he didn't want me getting hurt, then he helped you up and loaded you into the backseat. And then Nate looked me in the eyes and said, 'Mitchie, I hope you never have to see anything as scary as this. If that was you out there, I could have died.' and then he began to kiss me, and it was so wonderful, because he'd never kissed me like that before, and…" She started to ramble again.
"Mitchie." I groaned, a hint of pain and annoyance in my cracking voice. "I really don't want to hear about you and Nate making out."
"I'm sorry, Shane." She apologized, blushing, and I sighed, covering my face in my hands.
"You really love him, don't you?" I asked, my voice muffled slightly by my skin.
"What was that?" Mitchie called; I uncovered my face to find that she had crossed the room, tracing some of the pictures I had displayed on the coffee table: A picture of Mitchie singing; Nate, Jason, and I, smiling happily; me and my family, before my father died; my dog, Steak, who died a few years back…
"I said, YOU REALLY LOVE HIM, DON'T YOU?!" I screamed the last part, unable to hold it in anymore. She gave me a strange look, but I ignored it; I was on a roll. "What the fuck, Mitchie? I leave with you heartbroken, and me not giving a crap. What kind of sick twist is this? Suddenly, I'm the one with the broken heart, and you're the one flaunting your new boyfriend in my face?"
I shocked her into silence. And suddenly, she spoke again. "Shane, are you angry because I'm happy?" She asked softly, refusing to look me in the face. I groaned again, running a hand through my hair; it seemed to be becoming a habit these days…
"Yeah. I guess I am." I growled, and she let out a frustrated sigh.
"I hate you." She spat, and my eyes widened in anger.
"What did you say?" I asked incredulously, shooting up from my position on the bed. "What did you say to me, Mitchie Torres?"
She took a deep breath, and I scooted closer until we were chest-to-chest. She glared at me, eyeing me, then spoke, "I. Hate. You."
"Well, I hate you, too!" I roared.
"I hate you more!" She challenged.
"You're a bitch!" I screamed.
"You're an ass!" She hollered. I scooted up closer than I thought was possible, and our lips were barely a centimeter apart, I could feel her hot breath upon my neck.
"I love you." I blurted suddenly.
"What?!" She shrieked, and before she could protest, I crashed my lips violently upon hers. Mitchie stiffened, and suddenly relaxed into the kiss. I pulled her closer, and before I knew it, I was kissing every part of her body I could find, and she was moaning my name, "Shane… Shane…"
As I began to remove her shirt, she suddenly pushed me away roughly, gasping for breath. "What's wrong, Mitchie? You weren't so reluctant to do this with Nate." I sneered, hating myself inside.
"I wasn't because I loved him." She sent me a glare, and she straightened her shirt, ran a hand through her hair, and flounced out of the room, running back to her beloved Nate, leaving me in the dark again, wondering why couldn't I be the one she was rushing to as we speak.
