7| I Think I'm The Star Of This Movie
7| I Think I’m The Star Of This Movie
“Ava, we need to talk,” Max demands.
I glare at him for ordering me around. Who does he think he is? The King?
“I’m not going anywhere near you,” I growl.
He huffs at me, running a hand through his brown hair.
“Please Ava, I want—no need—to explain.” He pleads, begging. He thinks I’m going to fall for his act. How funny.
“I’m not listening to a word you say. You made everything very clear two years ago.” I coldly say, maintaining my glare. “Now leave me alone.”
Max’s eye twitches slightly, a sign that he’s agitated. Good, I’m winding him up.
My eyes glance over to Lawrence and Bree who are both looking between me and Max with curious eyes. I can almost see the wheels turning in their heads about what’s going on.
I don’t really want to explain everything again, telling my story once was heartbreaking. I don’t think I can go through another emotionally exhausting story again today.
“Go.” I snap, interrupting him. Hopefully, he’ll get the message. I doubt it but a girl can dream.
“No. I’m not leaving until I explain everything.” He snaps back, straightening his posture. I purse my lips in annoyance, narrowing my eyes. Can’t he just leave me alone? He’s already tortured me enough, my heart just can’t take anymore.
“Listen here, Max.” I start, standing up so that I’m my full height. Even though I only reach his chin, I’m still pretty tall. “I don’t want to do this again. I got the message okay?”
My voice turns slightly softer at the end from my sadness. My mind keeps replaying it over and over, to make me feel worse.
“I know and I’m sorry but what you saw—”
I cut him off again. “I know what I saw so don’t come up with some bullshit excuse okay?”
He looks upset that I won’t listen to him yet he continues. I know Max, he won’t give up. Or, at least, that’s what he used to be like.
“Ava.” He sighs, annoyed. “I’m not trying to make an excuse. I know what you saw and I’m trying to say that what you saw didn’t happen.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I try to tell if he’s lying. His eyes stare into mine, holding it. The desperation for me to believe him is unreal. He seems so lost; broken. A small part of me pity’s him but before I even think about giving some sort of pity, I remember the heartbreak. He doesn’t deserve my sympathy. He ruined me—changed me; I’ll never forgive him for that. Not ever.
“I miss you. I made a mistake and I will forever hate myself for it.” His tone is desperate. His eyes are pleading with me to acknowledge him in a way that isn’t hate. He wants redemption. “I need you, Ava.”
Hearing those words pulls at something in my heart. He needs me but do I need him?
No, I hate him. I remind myself, scolding myself for even thinking about wanting him. I’ve moved on, I’m different now.
Anger boils in me at his words instead. It's a way for me to hide the fact I even thought about needing him.
How could he say that? After what he put me through, he doesn’t deserve my forgiveness.
So, me being the impulsive person I am, I slap him. Hard.
Max looks stunned, his eyes wide open in shock as he raises a hand to feel his cheek. Satisfaction floods through me as I see my handy work.
“You have no right to say that to me. Not after what you put me through.” I say, taking a step back. Glancing at Bree and Lawrence I see them staring at us in shock. I guess they didn’t think I would slap him.
I’m also assuming they didn’t think I would have the guts to smack the ‘bad boy’. They have no idea what’s going on so I dread to think where their minds are taking them. Worse case scenario: somewhere that involves crime. Hopefully.
“Now, leave me alone,” I repeat, grabbing Bree’s arm. I drag her away from Max to the changing rooms, ignoring some of the other student’s eyes who are on me. I just gave them something to gossip about. Wonderful.
Bree doesn’t question me, just letting me pull her to the changing rooms. The frown her face lets me know she’s curious and that I should probably expect some questions from her. I honestly don’t know what to tell her, I could tell her the truth or I could say I don’t feel like answering right now. I’m sure she’d understand.
After all, all I want to do now is curl up in a whole and drown in my sorrows. Well, that and laugh at how pathetic my life has become. Fate is so cruel or was it my luck? If anything else boy related happens to me here, right now, I could be the star of my own TV show. That, or if a jealous girl who claims Max is hers approaches me and ‘threatens’ me, I will go and see a movie producer and force him to make a movie about me.
Slamming the door open, I let go of Bree’s arm and collapse onto one of the seats. This is all overwhelming. Seeing Max, telling my story and now having Max come up with excuses is all too much for me.
Leaning my head back closing my eyes taking a deep breath to try and calm down. I need to get everything back under control like I had it before.
“Ava, I know you probably don’t want to talk about what happened back there but if you ever do—want to talk—just know that I will always listen.” Bree’s soft and comforting voice fills my ears.
I’m grateful to know that she’ll always be here for me if I ever need to open up. Its reassuring to know.
“Thank you,” I say, gratitude clear in my voice. “You didn’t ask me questions and for that I’m grateful. Oh and for also telling me you’ll be here. Its...I don’t know. It’s just nice to know that you’ll be there if I need you.”
“Anytime.” She chirps, sitting down next to me.
I open my eyes and give her a small smile. She returns it with bright green eyes.
“So.” Bree nervously starts, tucking a bit of her red hair behind her ear. “I know this nice place that does coffee and hot chocolates if you wanna go there after school.”
I ponder over it. Spending time with Bree would be nice, that way we can get to know each other.
“Sure. Can we bring Molly too? I bet she’d love to meet you.” I ask, smiling at the thought of all of us being friends. Inviting her would mean they would get to meet and we would have a small circle of girls to be friends with. I want to be friends with both of these girls; I want them to be friends too. Otherwise, it would be weird and awkward if I had to meet them separately and spend time with them separately.
“Of course.” She beams excitedly.
Her happiness is contagious—I swear—because my bad mood deteriorates and I just can’t help but smile happily back at her.
“Yay,” I cheer. Then, not even a second later, the bell goes off and the girls come in. Wiping the smile off of my face, I get up and go over to my bag. Sneaking a small smile at Bree.
I don’t want to draw attention to myself, smiling like a madman isn’t something else I want to add to the gossip. Half of these girls are giving me death glares as well, whilst a few of the blonde clones are giving me disgusted looks as their eyes roam my body.
They must be cheerleaders, judging by their forms and the clothing they’re changing into. They also look like people from the popular group, if the way some quieter girls are sneaking glances at them enviously.
So now, not only do I have Max to deal with but also, I have some nasty looking cheer leaders to deal with who look like they want to bite my head off.
What’s the number for a producer? I’m sure a movie about my life would be a hit. I can tell a lot of juicy drama is coming for me, perfect for a teen movie.