the hating game ; lrh

sixteen

WHEN I STEP INTO the kitchen Luke is standing before the open fridge, pretending with all his might to be studying it's lack of contents.

I don't step up beside him — I'm not sure I want to see his face. I simply stop behind him and take a deep breath.

"What the hell was that?" I cut straight to the chase, not wanting to avoid the subject.

"What was what?" Luke mumbles, his head still stuck in the fridge.

"You know what," I try my best to sound confident despite my heart racing.

Luke finally shuts the fridge door and turns to face me. I don't know what I expect to see, but a straight face wasn't it. One thing I had always known about Luke was that he had an immaculate ability to conceal his emotions. What I didn't know was whether or not this was one of those times.

"I really don't," he says.

I let out a frustrated sigh and give in, "The song."

"What about it?" Luke continues playing dumb.

"It was—" I stop myself mid-sentence, taking a deep breath. Was I really about to say this? "It was about me."

Luke stares at me blankly for a second, and I am unsure what to expect from him. Then, just as I was about to break the silence by speaking, he bursts into an uncontrollable laughter.

"You're joking, right?" He cackles — I swear I almost see tears fall from his eyes.

But I know how good he is, so I hold my ground. "I'm not joking," I tell him.

"What on earth would make you think that?" Luke asks, his laughter not ceasing.

"Sunflower?" I remind him, though now that I'm saying the words out loud they don't sound quite as convincing as they did in my mind.

"What? That stupid nickname you gave yourself?" Luke scoffs, shaking his head. "Don't be so petty."

I gulp, suddenly becoming far less confident than I was before. "'Kiss in the kitchen'?"

"I don't recall ever kissing you?" Luke points out.

"Well, no, but there was that time when you were tutoring—" I begin, and again the words sound ridiculous coming from my mouth.

"You thought I was going to kiss you?" Luke bursts into laughter once again, shaking his head. When he looks back at me, his blue eyes are icy and cold — just like they were the first time I met him all those years ago — and I know nothing good can come from this conversation.

"You're lying," I accuse, though as I say it I'm not even sure that it's true anymore. "You've been acting different."

"I have not," Luke scoffs.

"You have and you know it," I insist, feeling a bubble build in my throat, growing larger and larger as time goes by.

The sound of footsteps on stairs fills the otherwise silent kitchen and seconds later Ashton appears by my side.

"Ashton," I let his name out in a sigh, shaking my head at him. "Go back downstairs."

"No," he tells me, his face angry as he turns to Luke. "What the hell was that, man?"

Luke rolls his eyes, void of emotion. "Not you, too."

"I knew something was going on with you two!" Ashton continues, wildly angry, his arms flailing about.

Luke turns to Ashton with a sinister smile. "As I was about to tell your naive little girlfriend, I have no interest in her whatsoever," Luke's words are venomous, and no matter how much I attempt to keep the bubble in my throat from bursting I can feel it reaching its limit. "In fact, the mere sight of her repels me. From the moment I met her I knew I would always hate her, and the only reason I've shown any kindness toward her is because, despite the fact that she's the bane of my existence, her brother is my best friend!"