~Cassidy~

“I still hate you, you know that?” I asked Matt sassily as he collapsed onto my couch. He chuckled, reaching for the remote and flipping on the television, a cheesy chick flick immediately lighting up the pixelated screen.

“Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’, and I rolled my eyes.

“As long as you know,” I said simply, pushing his legs off of the couch so that I could sit down beside him. He sat back up, no longer lying down, and put an arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I sighed, leaning my head onto his arm, “I love you, dude.”

Because it was true, I did. Matt had done so much for me, he was my best friend, and without him, I would be nothing by now, probably still sitting down on my rickety, single bed at the orphanage, even though I was nineteen. Because I wouldn’t have had anywhere else to go.

“Love you back, kiddo,” he said, pressing a kiss to my hair. We didn’t usually converse in sappy moments like these, with me thinking that they were way too fucking overrated, but every once in a while I felt as though I needed someone to tell me that I was actually a part of their lives, and they would miss me if I ever left. There weren’t many people who could actually say that with a serious face.

“So,” Matt questioned, muting the television, “How’re things with Harry?”

I groaned, pulling away from him and burying my face in my hands, “Fucking terrible. How the hell can you be friends with him? He’s so fucking annoying.”

Matt chuckled, “Only because you won’t give him a chance, Cass. He’s actually really cool and laid-back.”

“I don’t see it,” I replied dryly, my insides boiling just from thinking about him. He really was the most annoying person I’d ever met. Hell, even Matt was annoying, but Curly just brought it onto a whole other level.

“I still don’t know how you can manage to put up with him,” I said; incredulous.

Matt let out a long laugh, “I do it the exact same way that I put up with you,” he finally said, after chuckling. I couldn’t help but to smile; he had a point there.

“Still,” I insisted, “I am nowhere near as bad as he is, right?”

Matt hesitated, and I wasn’t afraid to add, “Say yes, or I will cut your balls off in your sleep.”

He laughed again, and this time I laughed along with him, happy that we were finally back on good terms. I could never really stay angry at Matt for more than a week, and I was excellent at holding grudges.

“Fine,” he admitted, “You are nowhere near as bad as he is,” he quickly added on, “But I’m only saying that to preserve my balls.”

I cracked up again, falling onto the couch and laughing hysterically. This was what I loved. Being with Matt, spending quality time with him. He was pretty much my only friend, the only person I bothered talking to without snapping, aside from the Jansens.

“You’re an ass, you know that?” I told him, still laughing.

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, and joined in on my laughter.

There was a knock on the door, and Matt stood abruptly, brushing off his Bermuda shorts and making his way out of the room, “Got it,” he called out, already in the hall.

“I can see that!” I yelled out dryly, and I heard him laugh again.

I sighed, and collapsed back down onto the couch, lying down and grabbing the remote, flipping through random channels. Nothing very interesting was on, and I wrinkled my nose. I heard low murmuring coming from the hall, and wondered who could possibly be at the door, but figured that it was probably just some salesperson who was looking for a pretty penny.

Just then, Matt came back in, and I sat back up, smiling at him. My smile fell from my face when I saw another person step into the room.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” I snapped, glaring at Matt.

Harry chuckled, raking a hand through his hair. For once, he wasn’t wearing a bandanna, and his hair stood up in messy curls and waves, looking a bit like a flow. My gaze flickered to him momentarily, and I studied his body. He was wearing black skinny jeans—again; I was starting to wonder if he owned any other pants—and a green and white shirt with teeny tiny checkers. It was unbuttoned, letting me glimpse his upper chest, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. I looked away, rolling my eyes.

“Kane,” Matt scolded quietly, using my last name, so I knew that he was serious, “Be nice.”

I rolled my eyes again, staring fixedly at the TV and not looking at either of them. Matt just sighed and came to sit back beside me, gesturing for Harry to take a seat. He plopped down on the floor.

“Fuck no,” I said, standing up. I pressed a button on the remote, and the television screen went dark. I turned back to Matt, who was seated on the couch, frowning, and Harry, on the floor, who was wearing a teasing smirk. That smirk just made me angrier.

“I’m not going to just stand by and pretend that this is okay!” I said, crossing my arms. Matt sighed tiredly but Harry continued to smile smugly at me, igniting a fire inside of me that I didn’t know that I possessed, “This isn’t okay, Matt!” I repeated, getting angrier, “This is my house, okay? I didn’t invite him in, hell, I don’t even like him! Do you hear me?”

I was fuming. Just because Harry was Matt’s friend didn’t mean that I had to immediately like him. Fuck, liking him was the farthest thing from what I felt right now.

“I hate him, Matt,” I said quietly, glaring at both of them. Matt’s eyes widened, and Harry’s smile dropped just a bit. That made a warm feeling erupt in my stomach, but seeing Matt look so hurt cancelled it out.

I shot them both a venomous look and then walked furiously out of the room, climbing up the steps quickly and heading towards my room. I stalked inside, slamming the door, where I’m pretty sure the sound echoed throughout the house, “Fuck!” I yelled, falling down on my bed and crawling underneath the covers, showing the first sign of vulnerability in who the fuck knows how long.

I hugged my pillow against my body and closed my eyes, wishing that I could just disappear from the world. My life was so unfair. Everyone could go fuck themselves, I wouldn’t care, and I was so done with this.

I sat back up, reaching for the photo on my nightstand, of the two anonymous parents and the little girl whose face I’d replaced with mine. I sighed, wishing that I knew who they were, wishing that they’d come rescue me and take me away, because I hated this, I hated it so fucking much.

Finally, after about ten minutes, I heard footsteps coming closer. Quickly, I hassled to hide the frame under my blanket; not even Matt knew I had it. I threw myself back down onto the bed, and when the door opened softly, I groaned, and buried my face further into the pillow, mumbling, “Get the fuck out, Matt.”

Someone chuckled gently from behind me. “It’s me, actually,” I heard a deep voice with an accent say, and I immediately shot up, my eyes wide.

My gaze found Curly standing there, and my jaw dropped. For a moment, we just stayed there, taking in the other, until finally…

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I said harshly, “This is my room,” I sounded out clearly, just to make sure that he knew exactly where he was.

He chuckled, “I can see that, thank you very much.”

“So then get the fuck out,” I snapped, falling back down into my pillows. I heard Harry laugh quietly, followed by a single footstep, no doubt him moving closer to my bed. I held up my hand, “Hold the fuck up. Stay right there, and don’t come any closer.”

“Fine, fine,” I risked a glance at him, only to find his hands held up—surrendering—and a small smile playing on his lips. Finally, he turned serious, “I just wanted to tell you that you really hurt his feelings. He hates it when you’re upset, and he’s very hurt. And that’s odd, considering that I’m the one that you were insulting, and I don’t feel a thing.”

“Good for you,” I said sarcastically, staring up at my plain white ceiling, “But I don’t want to hear your thoughts, emotions and feelings,” I said disgustedly.

Harry sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, “You’re extremely selfish, do you know that?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, my eyes widening. I sat up and swung my legs off of the bed, standing up with purpose and stalking over to him, getting all up in his face. Our noses were an inch apart.

“What did you just say?” I asked, trying to contain my anger. Fuck, he really knew how to push my buttons, huh?

“I said you’re selfish,” he said simply, shrugging, a small smile finding its way onto his lips. I wanted to smack him.

“Yeah?” I seethed, “And what would lead you to believe that?” I asked skeptically, wishing that I could punch him and just beat him up in general. His smirk grew even bigger, “Well, to begin with, all you care about is yourself. Matt has worked his arse off to help you pursue your dream; meanwhile you treat him like shit.”

I couldn’t help but to be surprised when I heard him swear. It was the first time.

“And when he does something for your benefit,” Harry continued, making me angry, “When anyone does something for your benefit, you just push them away and are simply a rude, snobby bitch to them. And you know what, Kane? It really fucking sucks.”

More colourful language? Damn, this was a whole new side I was seeing.

I could see him getting angry too. What the fuck was happening here? This was something new, something unknown, uncharted territory, and I hated it. I hated not being able to control things, being powerless, and I hated change. Maybe that was where my fear of storms came from.

“I—,” I tried to say, but he cut me off.

“Let me finish,” he glared at me, his light green eyes going hard, “You are rude, you are vulgar, and you are a dramatic, prissy, spoiled brat. Frankly, I don’t know why Matt has stuck around with you.”

“Shut up!” I cried, not wanting to hear the truth, “Just shut the fuck up!”

“Did your parents even teach you anything at all?” he questioned me angrily.

And that was where I completely lost it.

I shrieked at him, my mind going blank, with only one intention in mind: to kill him. I pounced on him, taking him by surprise and gaining the advantage, knocking him to the ground. He finally snapped out of his shocked state and blocked the punches I threw at him, catching me off-guard. I was crying, tears streaming down my face, surprising even me.

I never cried. I never showed signs of weakness, not even to Matt. The last time I cried was when I was ten, when I’d been scratching out the faces of the anonymous strangers in the photo frame, trying to create my own perfect family.

I kept on trying to scratch him, to kick at him, to do anything to hurt him. Eventually, he rolled away, standing back up and pushing me up against the wall, while I fought to get away from him, wanting Matt.

As if my thought had triggered it, the door burst open and Matt stood there, his eyes wide. He took one look at us and immediately rushed over, prying Harry away from me. As soon as we were separated, I lunged at the curly-headed boy again, but Matt held me back, while Harry took a step away, breathing heavily and staring at me with hooded eyes.

“Stop it, Matt!” I screamed at him, tears pouring shamelessly down my face. “Leave me alone! He—my parents—he…!”

I broke into another fit of sobs while Matt pulled away from me, gripping Harry by the shirt and pulling him out of my room, slamming my door.

The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds.

I stood there, completely frozen, tears still trailing mindlessly down my face, not knowing whether to run after them and pound in Curly’s face, simply take out my anger on the door, or throw things around and find happiness in the loud crashes and shatters.

I had all this anger built up in me, not knowing what to do with it. I kicked at the wall, fisting my shirt in my hands, trying to do anything that would rid me of this sudden fury and rage that had welled up in my body, but nothing would work.

Suddenly I was just tired; so, so tired.

And then the rage was back.

And then the exhaustion washed back in. It was a constant battle between all of the pent up frustration and resentment, and the fatigue, my body not knowing which sensation to obey.

I heard Matt yell something downstairs, and closed my eyes.

Notes

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, because I enjoyed writing it! I don't know who infuriates me the most: Cassidy or Harry...

Guys, please vote! I'm grateful for everyone who has so far; thank you for that, but I've been stuck at ten votes for a while, so could we please change that? I haven't gotten much feedback on this story, and I would love it if I did. You'd be making me very happy, just so you know ;)

Random fact: Blondes have more hair on their heads than dark-haired people do.

~Love your beautiful faces~