29Love To Hate You
Chapter One
This is how I'm going to die. My lack of movement will only be speculated upon after the applause has died down and half the auditorium cleared out. By then it will be too late, my body will be cold and dead. My fingers clutched around the program I had desperately tried to turn into a paper airplane, a last desperate attempt at amusement, a failed effort to live if you will.
I've never much enjoyed the story of Alice In Wonderland, but somehow, a middle school production of the damn thing makes it that much worse. Twelve year olds parading around, trying to act is just messed up. I'll admit that this isn't always the case, sure there are twelve year olds who can act, but you just aren't going to find talent at Cedar Brook Middle School. It's just not there. And as the older sister of the star of this little production, you'll have to take my word for it.
I watch Cassie trounce around on the stage in her little blue and white dress with her big smile and blue headband. She's having the time of her life. A good sibling would accept that and do their best to enjoy the play. I am not, and never have been, a good sibling.
As inconspicuously as possible (I may not be willing to participate in her moment, but I'm not going to ruin it either), I make my way towards the exit. A couple people shoot me dirty looks, which I don't quite understand, for all they know I just really have to pee. I glare back and they play at being offended.
"Damn sticks up their asses…" I grumble to myself upon exiting.
"Fancy meeting you here," a voice interrupts. I glance up to find none other then Trenton Bennett, my irksome next-door neighbor lounging on the bench outside the auditorium.
"So how long did you last?" I ask, sitting down beside him, remembering that his little brother Nathan was also in the play.
Trent raises an eyebrow, "Well this is uncharacteristically cordial of you."
"Don't be a prick," I snap, "I'm just taking into account the fact that the play isn't even halfway over yet and I don't really feel like getting into a childish bickering match with the only other person around."
"Well isn't that mature," Trent rolls his eyes.
Sometimes I forget why Trent and I don't get along, but after about two minutes in his presence, it's always easy to remember.
"Maturity's obviously a concept that's lost on you."
Silent ensues. I tap my foot against the pavement bored out of my mind. Of course, not bored enough to go back inside, I don't think I could ever be that bored.
"Four minutes," Trent says.
"What?"
"I lasted four minutes."
I can't help but smile at that.
"I can't believe you left!" Cassie glares at me from the doorway of my room.
I stare at my upside-down sister, my head hanging off the bed. "What can I say Cass, it was one of the worst things I've ever seen."
Her face turns a funny shade of red. Truth hurts.
"Mom!" She shrieks. I watch her leave, darting down the stairs to tattle on her older sister. I think she gets a perverse pleasure out of getting me into trouble.
My head's starting to pound so I pull myself upright. I should do that assignment for English, but it's hard to muster up the inspiration when school's letting out in less than two weeks.
Still, I unbury my binder from the pile of clothes it's under like the good student I am. I have my pen out, poised to write, when my mom appears in my doorway.
She knocks on my doorframe as a formality, her eyes on me.
"You rang?" I say, not bothering to shield the annoyance from my voice.
"Did you really have to tell your sister you didn't like her play?" She asks, her motherly frown deepening.
"That depends," I say, closing my English binder and tossing it on the floor, "Would you rather I lie to her?"
She purses her lips. "I thought she did a wonderful job."
Why do parents always compliment their children even when it's obvious it's a lie? It's like the four year old who draws a squiggle and names it "Dada" and its parent hangs in on the refrigerator like it's the most amazing thing ever. What the fuck is that all about? I think refrigerator spots should be earned, not given out to the first person who can take a crayon to a piece of blue construction paper.
"No you don't."
"Yes Madeline, I do," my mom insists.
"Well is it okay that I don't believe you?"
My mom sighs, rubbing her aging forehead. She always told me that it was us kids giving her wrinkles and gray hairs. I always told her that it was age giving her wrinkles and gray hairs.
"Just try and be nicer to your sister okay? You know her feelings are hurt easily."
"Yeah sure whatever," I say, brushing her off.
She leaves, reminding me that dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.
"Meatloaf? Seriously?" I ask, sauntering into the kitchen.
My mom stands up from where she's bent over checking the meatloaf and gives me a tired look, "Is there something wrong with meatloaf?"
"Of course not … I just wasn't aware we were stuck in the 50s."
"Are you giving your mother a hard time again Mads?" My dad questions good-naturedly, entering the kitchen, just arriving home from work. The lucky bastard didn't have to go to Cassie's play, pleading he had to work instead. Work on a Sunday afternoon. I don't really think so. He probably just went over to the Bennett's house and hung out with Trent's dad, who had also been suspiciously absent.
He kisses the back of mom's head on his way over to the sink to wash his hands. I make a face.
"Do you have an idea yet what weekend we'll go up to the cabin this summer?" He asks, leaning against the counter.
Mom, who is rummaging through one of the utensil drawers, whips around, nearly hitting me with the knife she'd pulled out. My mom the spaz. "I was going to tell you!" she says excitedly. "I was talking to Tracy during the intermission and we got onto the subject of the cabin." Tracy is Trent's mom, my parents are best friends with his parents from way back and they own a summer house jointly together.
"She mentioned how they never felt like they got enough time up there during the summer and we were just talking about that, so guess what!"
No. Please don't say what I think you're going to say. Please, just don't.
"We're going to go up there together this year!" She squeals. Abort abort abort!
"We're going to go up where? And with who?" Cassie asks, wandering into the kitchen. Well would you look at this, one big happy family.
"The summer cabin, with the Bennett's," Dad answers.
One look at Cassie's blinding smile and it's easy to know whose side she's on. Fine then.
"With Nathan!" she squeals, sounding as excited as my mom did. Her and Nathan have a "thing", or as much of one as two twelve year olds possibly can.
The Bennett's and my parents think it's cute. They all have a perverted dream that we'll grow up and marry, her and Nathan and me and Trent. They think it's fate that they had two boys and my parent's had two girls. Gag me.
"Do we really have to do this?" I ask, nibbling at my piece of meatloaf.
"Come on Maddy, it'll be fun," My mom says, "Besides, I'm sure you and Trent could get along if you just gave him a chance, you can be so disagreeable sometimes it's hard to talk to you."
Oh yeah, it's my fault and my fault only that Trent and I aren't humping like bunnies right now and producing them grandchildren. Sure.
Okay, maybe they aren't seeking out grandchildren just yet, but that's not really the point.
Okay, think, think, there has to be an argument against this. "Space!" I shout. "There won't be enough space!"
"Don't be silly," mom laughs, "The house is plenty big enough for the eight of us."
Nine mom, it's nine.
"Don't forget about Thomas," I point out.
Speaking of Thomas, he should be home in a few days. His semester ended on Friday I think. Fun. I love my brother.
"Of course I didn't forget him," mom says, an obviously forced smile filling her face.
No, but you wish you could.
A/N: There we go, I decided to rewrite this story and not just repost the old chapters. It should basically be the same, hopefully just better.
-CarefullyIronic