elevator : afi

thirty - one

jokesss; why did the chicken cross the road

to get to the other side

OHHHH

________________________

"W-What?" I whispered, backing off of him and sinking back to the floor.

No way, there was absolutely no way that Ashton Irwin loves me, or even likes me, and if he did - I'd have to break it to him that I don't feel the same.

But, he's just a liar. He probably only said that to get me off of him because he knew - more or less - what my reaction would be.

I despise him, he already knows that. I already know he despises me too.

I don't believe it, but it just gets to me - why would he say that? Why...he shouldn't even use that as a weapon.

He doesn't even know me, not enough to even like me. Not even enough to be my friend, well, maybe that's an over reaction.

I backed off of him and gave him an exasperated look - he looked shocked at him own words.

He put his hands up defensively, and sighed in relief.

"God, I knew that would get you off of me." He smirked, shaking his head at me.

That fucking dickhead.

"Are you kidding me?! You can't say that shit!" I yelled, smacking his arm.

"I know! I know! But I panicked." He said 'innocently', smirking at himself.

"That's not funny." I spat.

"Why?" He smirked. "Do you love me?"

"Ew, no." I cringed. "I despise you - hence the reason I tried beating the crap out of you seconds ago."

I swear that a flash of hurt crossed his features as he looked at me guiltily. "Yeah, well...keep your hands to yourself."

"I'm serious though, Ashton." I sighed, glaring at him.

"I-I know." He muttered.

"You ruined me." I whispered, feeling a hot tear run down my cheek. "I was so insecure already and...and you didn't help."

"I know, actually, I don't really know. But I'm sorry." He mumbled, playing with his hands absentmindedly.

"I just...okay, no, I'm sorry." I frowned at myself. "I can't put all my problems and insecurity on you, it wasn't just you. I...I grew up poor, no dad, my mom basically working 24/7, no siblings, my stepfather looking after me...not to mention that, but I hear from my dad at the age of thirteen, the same day I got told that my stepdad wasn't my real dad, and my father basically said he still didn't want me and never wanted me to think about him again. I was left with insecurities, getting bullied in my old school, now this one, and left with my own thoughts...not only that, but my mother just died and I'm stuck in here with you while I'm on my fucking period. This sucks. Because I know you hate my guts and I can't do heck all about it."

I was panting lightly at the rapidness of me blurting out basically all my problems to him. It just had to be him. Why would I do that?

He'll probably tell everyone.

Everyone will probably bully and make fun of me.

Just like my old school.