Trying Not To Love (COMPLETED)

Chapter 6 ✅

PLEASE EXCUSE THE MISTAKES.

THANK YOU :)

Chapter Six- Drama Queen

Easton

She shut her eyes and licked her lips-- her lips were a light shade of red and I wondered if it was lipstick she'd applied. But it looked natural to me. They were slightly plumped and appeared soft--

I groaned internally and shut my damn eyes, cursing myself for thinking of her at all.

What the fuck's wrong with me?

This was the same girl who had invaded my house, my party, and now was trying to steal my friends with the help of her stupid siblings.

Also, the same girl who invaded my dream last night.

Ugh.

This all burning her hand drama had to be her way of getting the desperate attention. Screaming for pity seemed like something her kind of people did all the time.

People like her fed on attention and I wasn't going to be one who would fall into her trap. I was smarter than that. It was probably her well-planned strategy to get on everyone's sympathetic side. But, she couldn't fool me! Ha!

Nope. Not in this life.

I would never fall of her childish and foolish ways. Girls like her and her sister wanted only one thing. Money. Which came as a fixed package with popularity and fame.

I'd seen people like her. Understood them.

That's why it didn't affect me that she accidentally just burnt her hand. Who does that? She wanted me to believe it was an accident? C'mon!

I walked to the stove and grabbed the plate full of pancakes. While all of them gushed their stupid useless worries for her, I took a seat and pour some chocolate syrup on the bundle of pancakes. I cut a small piece and felt a hot fuzzy feeling prickling at the side of my face. I gazed to my left and met her eyes. Her heart was probably as dark as her eyes. It had to be.

She averted her gazed and winced. Drama queen! It couldn't be hurting that much. I got burnt once. So I knew it had to be nothing compared to it.

I took a mouthful of my big bite and chewed until I spit it out and jerked back like the food just electrified my mouth. No, it didn't. It did something worse. My chest squeezed inside of me and my heart started to throb.

I grabbed the plate, ignoring all the eyes on me and turned to face her. "NEVER! I mean NEVER try to cook again!" I threw all the pancakes in the trash and slammed the door shut as I left. I walked to the sliding door and then out in the open, walking around the pool and the house to get away from here as fast as I could.

I fished out the pack of cigarette from my pocket but, realized that I didn't have a lighter. Growling, frustrated, I threw the box hard and it hit the door of the shed that I'd once locked and never opened again. My eyes burnt and I wanted to kick or punch something so bad. The itch became too strong to manage as my hands started to tingle.

Heat rose with rage inside of me and I ran a hand through my hair, cursing.

Those pancakes... The taste was exactly same.

My Nanna used to make me pancakes just like those. Exactly same. She said it was a secret recipe no one knew. She was the closest thing I had to a mother but dear god had to take her away from me, letting me fall on my broken grave. Her death was when I hit rock bottom. Not when it was found that my father was a cheating asshole. Or when my mother decided to divorce him and leave me behind. Or when my dad started to bring his 'girls' to the house for his fun and enjoyment and sometimes even made me watch. He was sick in the head and maybe I was too.