Hate?

When was the last time Jonathan brought a girl over? I wondered as I got ready for school Wednesday. Since the chef incident, I think. That was a little over a month ago. So much has happened since then, and after last night I can't tell if Jonathan really hates me or not. He's such a confusing person. Then there's his father who is beyond words of creepy and strange.

Well just two more days and you'll be gone, and they won't be your problem. I reminded myself as I left for school, Jonathan already gone like usual, and no Mark waiting for me today. Things were back to normal, well my sort of normal.

Once at school people had pretty much stopped looking at me strangely, and the whispered comments had stopped. Yeah, my life was getting back on track. I had to admit without Mark chatting away between classes I was a little bored, school wasn't exactly the funnest place on earth. At the end of the day I was slightly stumped about what to do, I didn't have to work and I had nothing left to buy before the move, so I went back to the loft.

No one was there. Jonathan at hockey practice, and Valentine at work. I had the whole place to myself, and like all the stupid teenage movies I grabbed a tub of ice cream from the freezer and plopped down in front of the TV watching movie after movie on Netflix. I'm always busy and never have time for such luxuries, but I was seizing the moment. Maybe Raphael was right I needed to act more like a teenager, and work less. But I was moving and my new place wasn't going to be this well stocked for a teenager, so it was now or never. I choose now.

I was able to watch The Avengers, and Captain America before I started to get bored. Jonathan was still not home and it was late. I grabbed my backpack in search of my phone, opening one of the pockets and finding the gold foil packet Lily gave me almost a month ago. I scoffed to myself and shoved it into my pants pocket not wanting it in my backpack any more. God knows what would happened if it fell out in school. My search for my phone was soon forgotten as Iron Man started to play. I was lounging on the couch and only made it several minutes into the movie before I fell asleep.

I knew this place. I hated it. I wanted nothing more than to leave it and watch it burn to the ground, and I was only ten when I first thought that. The apartment was always cluttered no matter how hard I tried to clean it and please them. They were never happy, not that I can remember. Every memory was full of yelling and screaming and raised fists. I knew my place. Stay silent. Stay out of the way. Act like air. But they always saw me. They always yelled at me for something I didn't do.

"You ungrateful bitch!" He would yell when I got home from school. "Where the hell is dinner? You're late." He would hiss. I was never late. I knew better.

"Shut up you fucking bastard!" She would scream from the bedroom as she tried to sleep from her double shift. I would make dinner.

Then came my sixteenth birthday. That's what I could see now. The apartment was trashed, table flipped with a broken leg, broken glass from the lamps and plates, the strong cool breeze of the changing seasons coming in through the opened window. I had just gotten home, on time, mentally celebrating my birth even though they never saw it as anything special. They were screaming at each other like usual but it was worse this time. I just knew it as I tried to seem invisible.

"MIRA YOU FUCKING BITCH." He yelled grabbing my arm with a bruising force. He wreaked of alcohol.

"THIS IS ALL YOU'RE FAULT. YOU USELESS PIECE OF TRASH!" She shrieked at me.

I could only stare. What was I suppose to do? I was only a kid and they were my parents, no matter how many times I wished they weren't.

He released my arm and clenched his hands over his head as he growled like a viscous dog. After that time slowed. I could clearly tell everything that was happening. She went to claw his face while he went for a punch at me. I dodged but he didn't and it only made him more angry. She hissed at us both, but they seemed to agree I was the bigger threat. They towered over me faces dark like predators readying for the kill. It wasn't out of self defense, well it was partly, but it was mostly because I had had enough. I charged at them and knocked them back towards the window that opened up onto the rickety old fire escape. They stumbled backwards fighting with each other and crashing through the glass. I stepped forward as they collided with the metal platform blood splattering every where from cuts caused by the glass.

As the fire escape gave under their combined weight and force I could see the utter fear and hatred in their eyes. They never lied when they said they never wanted me. I watched as they fell the six stories to the cement below-

I jolted awake from the nightmare. My heart racing and head light. I sighed in relief that I wasn't actually back there. I never wanted to go back. That was over. The front door of the loft creaked closed. The only light coming from the TV. I didn't move as the person huffed. I knew that voice, it was Jonathan. He was finally back. What time was it?

"Hey you alive?' He said as his footsteps came closer.

I couldn't find my voice. I was still frozen from the dream, and I don't know what compelled me to close my eyes and pretend to be asleep still. It made me feel like a stupid little kid.

"Hey," He said reaching the couch. He sounded sober, which was a change especially considering how late it was. "She's sleeping on the couch in a guys place. Moron." He muttered.

Everything went quiet, and still for a long moment. Then I felt his breath on my cheek. It was warm and stirred the stray hairs around my face. It got closer and closer but then it pulled back and my heart froze painfully in my chest. My hand shot out to where he was as my eyes popped open, I grabbed his collar stopping his getaway.

"Do you really hate me?" Burst from my lips as I met his surprised gaze. "Only pull away if you hate me. Really really hate me." I said as my stomach flipped and twisted inside while my heart practically shook in my chest. I could feel the prickle of tears as I watched my words sink into him.

The pause between my words and his response seemed like years. With each heart beat my hand loosened on his collar. He hates me. Jonathan hates me. I thought over and over as my hand fell between us.

"You're pretty sly Tyler." He smirked before pressing his mouth to mine. In that instant my head swam with disbelief, but his lips were something I could have never imagined up. Warm soft and well trained that sent my heart into a marathon.

Before I knew it I had my arms wrapped around his neck and we were falling to the floor. Jonathan chuckled into the kiss but didn't break it. His hands traveled down my body and it wasn't disgusting like the night he trapped me in his room. I liked it. With each touch it was like he was defrosting me. I was no longer cold, or felt alone. It made my heart burst with warmth and joy.

My fingers knotted in his hair which was as soft as the corn silk it looked like. Time seemed to jump forward as we pressed ourselves together on the floor of his living room. Most girls would imagine their first time would be in a hotel or some where romantic with the guy they loved and it would be sweet and slow and gentle. This was anything but. As clothing was being discarded I barely had the mind to pull out the condom in my pocket and give it to Jonathan who chuckled again at my actions. Everything hurt but at the same time it was pleasant. I felt my eyes water, but I suppressed them while running my nails down Jonathan's back.

As we continued my mind went blank except for He doesn't hate me. Jonathan didn't hate me.

It was over. I had lost my virginity, and Jonathan was lounging on the floor with only his boxers tugged on because I threw them at him. In return he had thrown his t-shirt at me and I pulled it on as I pressed my hands to my temples trying to actually comprehend what just happened.

IT REALLY HAPPENED.

We sat in the silence. I didn't know what to do, or what to say after what we did. I was just thankful Valentine hadn't returned home yet, this would be one hell of a thing to try and explain. I peeked sideways at Jonathan who seemed to be content and comfortable where he laid, only a foot away. His body was well built, strong, and beautiful. Even after all our rolling around together I still wanted to touch him more. Trace the lean muscle, run my palm over the flat stomach. My face flushed from my thoughts.

Yeah I love him. it's not just worry. This ass has me loving him.

Breaking the silence was Jonathan's phone. It was almost midnight who could have been calling him.

"Yeah?" He answered it swiftly.

There was a pause as the caller responded. I glared at him as a bubble of anger sprung up in my core.

"Oh really, and what are you offering?" He chuckled. That did it.

I crawled over him and grabbed his phone. "Why don't you try some guy your own age slut." I spat into the phone the hung up on who ever it was then sent the phone sliding across the carpet and down the hall.

Jonathan had propped himself up on his elbows with a wicked smirk on his face. "Jealous?"

"Of what?" I said gathering my clothes.

"Just say it Mira." He coaxed and it only made me madder.

Looking down at him I challenged darkly, "Even if I said it, it wouldn't change the fact that you don't care. Not about me or about yourself." His smirk slipped. "I've already told you how I feel, so stop screwing around with your life. Even if I don't live here anymore I'll still help you, you moron." I stated as I walked down the hall with my clothes. "And I don't care if you don't want it."

Welllllll? Please leave a review. Next chapter things get real intense with the Dinner at Taki's.