Hating Arlo #1 ✔️

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Chapter 12

Lily’s POV

I’m drunk.

There is no denying it. I am drowning my sorrows in a bottle of pink gin.

I feel like I’m being consumed by all of my feelings—the death of my parents, breaking up with my boyfriend, losing my twin sister, moving to a new area, and Arlo. I can’t cope with my feelings anymore.

I never grieved for my parents or my sister—I never fully moved on from my boyfriend. I still can’t get over my crush on Arlo—it’s all eating me up from the inside.

I’m tired. So, so tired of feeling down all of the time. I’m sad, so sad.

I want everything to go back to normal. I want to be laughing with my friends at the mall, drinking milkshakes. I want to have movie time with my sister every Thursday night. I want to wake up and have breakfast with my parents. But none of that is possible now—and I can’t stand it.

Alcohol is an escape. Albeit, it’s not the best escape but it’s certainly the easiest. For the first time this evening in a while, I feel free.

Well, I feel numb.

Of course, my happy moment does get ruined.

“Lily, I have come to drag you to the party today. So get off of your cute butt and come with m—,” Talia waltzes into my room, with a smile plastered on her pretty face. However, as soon as she spots me lying on the floor, giggling to myself, it gets wiped off of her face. Now, she’s wearing a frown, her eyes dancing with concern and dare I say it. Pity.

God, I hate pity.

“Lily, what’s going on?” She asks me softly, crouching down to my level. Her gorgeous brown eyes trail over my body and light up with recognition. “You’re drunk.”

I giggle, nodding my head whilst grinning ear to ear.

“Why, Lily?”

I don’t answer straight away. I don’t know how to tell her how fucked up I am. I know she will view me in a different light once I tell her everything. She might hang around me because she pities me. Once I unload my baggage on her, I’ll lose the one true friend I have here.

“Because why not?” I reply, staring deeply into her eyes. Something in my eyes startles her because she gasps in shock or maybe even fear.

“Lily…” She starts, cautiously. “What are you not telling me?”

I avert my eyes and take great interest in the ceiling. I’d rather not talk about my problems—not here and not now. Talia might be nice, but she can’t understand it. She doesn’t know how it feels to lose so much in a small amount of time. I lost a part of myself when my parents died. Can anyone really understand that sort of pain without experiencing it?

I inhale sharply. “Nothing.”

Talia gives me a disappointed look. “Lily, it’s not good to keep things in. This is proof! You need to tell someone. I’m here for you, Lily. I’ll listen to—”

“What? Because you’re my friend?” I cut her off, bitterly.

Talia physically recoils. She splutters some nonsense, trying to find the right words. People like her have never been spoken to like that.

“What’s got into you?” Talia asks me, hurt laced in her voice. My heart pangs from it. Whilst the drunk side of me is being a complete asshole, there is still me somewhere, yelling at myself, asking why I am doing this. I feel guilty for doing this to her. Talia doesn’t deserve this treatment, not when she has been so kind to me.

If only drunk me could see this.

Turning my head in the opposite direction to her, I begin to hum a familiar tune out loud.

Memories flow through my mind when my mother used to sing her favourite Disney song to me and Amber when we were kids. It brings an all-too painful feeling back.

“Talia, please go.” I croak out, refusing to look at her. If she doesn’t go soon, I’m certain I’ll say something else that will hurt her.

I can feel her eyes penetrating me, silently commanding me to look at her. Suddenly, the room is filled with a strong, powerful aura. The power it’s creating makes me want to submit to Talia.

I don’t understand what is going on. Every part of me wants to bow down to her and apologise profusely. I’m struggling to resist it.

“What—what is happening?” I ask, weakly. Fear courses through my body at this weird ordeal.

“Nothing is happening, Lily,” Talia replies, calmly. She sounds too calm. Every bone in my body is telling me not to believe her right now. There’s something very wrong here. I feel as if my body is being controlled by some higher being. “Now, can you tell me what is going on?”

She can’t feel this powerful…thing. How is that possible?

That question circles my mind for what feels like hours.

No,” I say, firmly. “Please leave.”

She doesn’t leave straight away. She lingers, wanting to fight me but also knowing I will not give up. I’m always stubborn—drunk, or sober. Eventually, she sighs and stomps away, quietly shutting the door behind her. When she’s gone, I let out a sob.

All the emotions I wanted to forget come to bite me in the ass. My body convulses, almost painfully, as I let out heart-shattering sobs. I cry for what feels like an eternity until I’m drained and empty. But even then, that heavy feeling in my heart remains.

A knock at the door, sometime later, breaks me out of my moment. Viciously, I wipe away the torturous tears until my eyes sting. Whoever is on the other side of the door will know I’ve been crying, no matter what—if the puffy, red eyes are anything to go by. But I’d like to pretend I haven’t.

“Come in,” I call out. My throat sounds scratchy and feels sore from all of my crying. It feels like sandpaper.

Arlo pokes his head around the door, immediately settling his eyes on me. He frowns and clenches his jaw at the sight of me, lying on the floor, broken.

“Lily…” He begins, not knowing where to start. Sighing, he opens the door and lets himself in. After shutting the door, he walks over to me and plops himself on the floor close to me. “I—I’m not good at this.”

Neither am I.

“But after Talia told me the state you were in, I knew I had to come to you.” He explains. For a moment, hope blossoms in my chest that he came here because he cared. But then his next words confirm that once again, I’m wrong. “You know, to return the favour for the other day.”

He means when I helped him out when he was drunk.

Disappointment courses through my veins, diminishing any hope in me. This makes me want to cry again.

“Do—do you want to talk about it?” He asks me, hesitantly. His brown eyes bore into mine, searching for answers he won’t find. A wall surrounds my heart, creating a false sense of stability.

“I don’t want you here,” I sneer, needing him to leave. I have to remember what has occurred between us—from that girl, Louise, to that fact that he’s been mean to me. He’s playing with me, it’s so obvious and I’m letting him. “So, leave.”

Arlo doesn’t like me ordering him. It’s something I’ve noticed about him—he does things himself.

“Fine then,” He huffs, angrily. He snaps his eyes away from me and examines my room. This is the first time he’s seen it.

My heart hammers in my chest when I notice his eyes landing on my photo wall. More specifically, the photos of my family. I can practically feel his curiosity.

“I didn’t know you were a twin,” He mumbles, surprised. “Why doesn’t she go here?”

"You don't know a lot of things about me," I bite back, and then after seeing his closed-off expression, I release a sign. Forcing my eyes away from the photo wall, I speak again in a calmer tone. “She didn’t want to come here.”

He pauses for a moment. “What’s her name?”

“Why do you care?” I ask him, harshly.

Remember, he’s not your friend. He even said so himself. So, don’t tell him anything. He will only use it to hurt you.

“What is with the attitude? How much have you had to drink?” He fires back, fiercely.

“What are you? My dad?” I snort, ignoring the painful feeling in my chest at the thought of my dad. The man who used to tell me off for staying out too late. The man who used to read a story to me in bed.

“You know what? I’m not going to listen to this sh*it. I came here as a friend and this is how I’m treated.”

His words anger me so much. They cause something to trigger in me. All sadness washes away and is replaced with pure, white fury. The same fury I had earlier, only stronger. This fury completely blinds me.

I leap to my feet and roll my shoulders. Defiantly, I lift my eyes to him and pin his stare. I demand his attention.

“Friend? You came here as a friend?” I repeat his words, in a low and dangerous tone. “That’s rich, seeing as you specifically told me we were never going to be friends. You remember that, Arlo? Or do I need to remind you word-for-word?”

Judging by his gulp and guilty eyes, he remembers it well.

“You didn’t come here as a friend. You were never my friend. I don’t know what your intentions are, but I do know they are not good. You cause nothing but trouble in my life, trouble I really don’t need. So, why don’t you go back to your pretty blonde girlfriend and leave me to cry in peace?”

By the end of my mini-speech, I’m exhausted. The anger is replaced with tiredness. The alcohol is beginning to disappear, leaving me emotionally cold. That’s the problem with alcohol—it’s a temporary solution. It only provides temporary relief.

Speechless, Arlo tries to compose himself.

“I—I,” He stammers, appearing lost.

My eyes narrow into slits. “Just leave, Arlo. I’m tired.”

He gives me one last look, almost like he’s pleading with me to let him in before he turns around and leaves the room.

Of course, just as he’s leaving, Trinity comes stumbling into the room, high as a kite.

“Oh, hello, Arlo,” She purrs, ‘seductively’.

He blanks her, walking straight past her and down the hall to his room.

She sends me an icy cold glare whilst making her way to the bathroom.

Once I’m alone again, I relax my body and release a long breath. After all of that, I think I need to rest for a long time.


The next morning, I wake up with a splitting headache. Groaning, I use my hand to hide the sunlight. Hangovers can turn people into vampires.

Beside me, Trinity snores away, peacefully. This is the one time I like Trinity—when she’s fast asleep. Then, she can’t talk to me.

Slowly, I lift myself up and stumble over to the bathroom. Doing my usual business, I take a long, hard look in the mirror at myself. My hair is like a bird’s nest—it’s completely messy. My eyes are red from the lack of sleep—and they look dead. Honestly, I look fed up.

I try to remember what happened last night. I briefly remember upsetting Talia, which I regret now. I also recall Arlo paying me a visit. Whilst I don’t remember much about that, I can already tell it didn’t end well.

I groan at the thought of having to see these people today. I can’t believe I let them see me in that state. I was a bitch to them. Even Arlo didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Then again, I suspect I said a few things that needed to be said.

After getting changed into some casual clothes—since it’s the weekend—I head down to the dining room for breakfast. I don’t receive any stares of disgust, leaving me to safely assume I didn’t annoy any other people. Thank god.

The dining room is pretty empty when I arrive. My eyes wander to the clock on the wall opposite me. 8:15. It’s early for a Saturday, too early. Most people are still in bed, sleeping. There was a gathering last night, that I was supposed to attend. However, I didn’t go since I decided it would be better to get drunk alone. Look how well that turned out. I think, bitterly.

I assume most people are still in bed, also sporting hangovers.

I grab some lunch and sit down at an empty table. I eat alone for a while, thinking about what happened last night. Well, thinking about what I can remember last night. As I recall my conversation with Talia, my guilt increases. Dread fills my stomach. I’m not looking forward to facing Talia.

I hope she doesn’t hate me. I don’t want to lose a good friend.

I’m broken from my thoughts when a body plops down onto the seat opposite me. Jumping in my seat, I snap my eyes at the person.

Kacey smiles back at me.

“Hey, long time no see, right?” She greets, staring at me like I’m her new best friend.

The last time I saw Kacey, I was being dragged away by Arlo. She had something to tell me, something important but before she could, Arlo interrupted us.

She seems different now. Bolder. When I first met her she, was so shy and reserved. That seems so long ago.

“Kacey,” I say, forcing myself to smile back. “How are you?”

She shovels a spoonful of scrambled egg into her mouth before answering me. “I’m good. I can’t say the same about you though.”

I internally wince at her comment. I know she didn’t mean to insult me but to simply inform me of what she sees. It hurts though, nonetheless.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, you know that right?” She blurts out. “We can just sit in silence if you want.”

Out of everyone I’ve spoken to, there is something about Kacey that can understand where I’m coming from. I can’t explain how I know this. There’s an air of sadness around her, similar to mine.

The next thing I say surprises both me and her.

“Have you ever lost anyone?”

There is a palpable shift between us. Kacey grows cold, her whole body stiffens. Her brown eyes close off, hiding away her feelings. Everything about her reminds me of myself. She is doing what I do. Shying away—defending herself.

“Yes,” She eventually replies, hesitantly. “I lose someone very close to me, someone, very precious.”

I release a breath, “H—how do you cope with that?”

“You don’t really get over it. But you learn to cope. As the days go by, you think about it less and less. Or at least, that’s what I found. It might be different for you.”

“It’s been over a month and the wound still feels fresh,” I admit, honestly. This is the first time I’ve really spoken to anyone other than my family about this. I had already lost my friends when the fire happened so I couldn’t talk to them about anything.

Kacey nods her head in understanding. “I lost my ma—my lover just over a year ago. He was my everything. It took months for me to smile again.” She confesses, chewing on her bottom lip.

Ignoring her slip up, I continue to listen to her.

“You just have to get on with life. It doesn’t stop just because something tragic happens to you. It’s horrible but very true. I don’t know who you lost but I do know that whilst there will always be a space missing in your heart, you do learn to carry on. The little hole does get filled. Unfortunately, it takes time.

“You have to continue living, for them. So, don’t let their loss stop you from living.”

“I know I shouldn’t. But I lost my parents, the people who created me. How can I just get over that?” I ask her, finally revealing who I lost.

She doesn’t appear surprised by my revelation. I guess she already had a suspicion as to who I lost.

“As I said, you don’t get over it. The pain never completely goes away, but it does decrease. It does get easier. From what I’ve seen, you are trying to move on and that’s good. Make friends, distract yourself, find love again. That will help the healing process.”

I give Kacey a grateful smile. Her words have helped. I’m not cured, and I will probably never be cured but I know what I have to do now to get better.

“Thank you, Kacey,” I say, sincerely. “I needed that.”

She flashes me a grin. “Anytime.”

I glance around the room, shocked to see it a lot busier. When I check the time, I notice it’s been half an hour. As I scan the room, I spot Talia entering by herself.

This is the right time. I think.

“I’m sorry Kacey but I have to go now. I have some apologizing to do.” I announce, standing up. Kacey presses her lips together and nods her head.

I leave, rushing over to Talia.

She notices me approach her and stops walking.

As soon as I reach her, I pull her in for a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear, meaning it.

Talia wraps her arms around me, to my pleasure.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t make you tell me stuff. You will tell me in your own time.” She whispers back, snuggling her face into my hair. A smile reaches my lips and my heart beats happily. I was so worried I had lost her—a friend.

I guess the saying is true. You don’t know what you have until you’ve lost it. In this case, I nearly lost a friend, someone I didn’t realize was so important to me until I nearly lost her.

“We’re still friends, right?” I ask her, uncertainly.

Pulling away from me, Talia arches an eyebrow. “When we were not friends?”

At that, I laugh in glee.

Thanks for reading. My next update will be this Sunday.

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