Between Three Hearts

2

"Hold up a sec," I blurted, my voice cracking like that of a teenage boy. Mom and Dad had just dropped a bombshell - Noah was moving in. "Why does he have to crash here?" I asked, struggling to get the words out.

Mom's hand found mine, her touch gentle. "Honey, Noah's got nowhere else to stay here and besides it’s just a few weeks," she explained softly.

"Can't he just... I dunno... get a hotel room or whatever?" I muttered, the idea half-baked at best.

Right on cue, Noah strolled in, eyes wide with faux innocence. “I can make do in a hotel," he chimed in, playing the martyr card like a pro.

I had to hand it to him - the guy knew how to work a room.

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain. Oscar-worthy performance, this one.

"Noah, you're staying. I've already talked to your mother," Mom's tone brooked no argument.

I let out a dramatic sigh, admitting defeat.

Dad jumped in, "Noah, make yourself at home. Pick any room you like."

I knew when I was beat. Noah was moving in. End of story.

A quiet rage began bubbling inside me.

I shot him a look that could curdle milk, but he just winked playfully. The nerve! I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks flush.

His cockiness was the last straw.

"Thanks, Uncle and Auntie," Noah chirped, his voice sickeningly sweet. I could feel his eyes on me. "Mind if I take the room next to Hazel's?"

I whirled around, ready to object, but Mom beat me to it. "Of course, Noah. Whatever works for you," she said, cool as a cucumber.

His smug grin widened. "Much appreciated."

I clenched my jaw. This was gonna be a long haul. Him, here, under the same roof, constantly pushing my buttons.

Could life get any more unbearable?

* * *

"Noah?" Olive's eyes were as big as saucers, mirroring my own shock as I recounted the tale.

"Yup," I sighed, popping the 'p'.

"You two... you were..." Olive's voice trailed off, lost in memories. "Inseparable. Always there for him. You even told everyone you'd marry him someday. What changed?"

"Oh, please, Olive!" I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I was just a kid! It was nothing but puppy love. Things are different now."

Olive squinted, her face scrunching up like she'd just tasted something sour. "But why the anger with him now? He says he didn't see you fall. Why not give him the benefit of the doubt?"

I gaped at her, my jaw practically on the floor. "Are you kidding me? He's lying through his teeth, Olive! Don't you dare defend him. I know what I saw. He watched me eat dirt!"

She let out a soft sigh, her eyes drifting to the window. "Whoa, hold up," She murmured, "I'm not Team Noah or anything. It's just... even if you're right and he saw you fall, why can't you just... move past it?"

"Move past it?" The words felt strange, almost foreign on my tongue. "You think it's that easy to forget—"

Olive's lips curved into a knowing smile. "They say forgiveness is—"

"No way," I cut her off, my stomach churning at the mere thought.

"Just hear me out, Hazel," she said, her voice gentle. "If Ethan is not for you, what about Noah?"

"Olive, please," I whispered, my eyes widening. "That's... that's crazy talk. Noah and I ... impossible! Us? Together? I can't even imagine it."

Her smile grew, reminding me of the Cheshire Cat. "Well, well. Never say never, Hazel. You two might have more in common than you think. You know what they say about birds of a feather..."

"Enough, Olive," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "For the record, Ethan's the one. And Elise? She's just... temporary. She'll be gone before we know it."

She shook her head, her voice tinged with sympathy. "Oh, Hazel. Even without Elise, Ethan's not interested. He can't stand you. Don't set yourself up for disappointment."

But I brushed off her words, trying to ignore the ache in my chest.

"Ever heard 'the more you hate, the more you love'? That's us. Me and Ethan." I couldn't believe what I was saying.

"Really, Hazel? Ethan's been cold to you for years. He's never shown any interest."

I fell silent, my mind racing. Her words hit home, and I wasn't ready for the truth they carried.

"Maybe... maybe I need to try other strategy to get his attention?" I mumbled, more to myself than her.

"Hold on, Hazel. You've got another plan?" Olive's eyebrow arched, curiosity evident in her voice.

"Yeah, I do," I said softly, a spark of hope in my eyes. "What if I show Ethan my softer side? You know, the part of me that's... kinder, gentler?"

Olive let out a snort, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please, Hazel. Like Ethan's just dying to see your 'sweet' side. As if he'd buy that act!"

I chewed my lip, fighting the urge to snap back. Was she my bestie or my worst enemy? Why did she always have to rain on my parade?

"Maybe... maybe if I showed him my vulnerable side?" I mused, my voice barely audible.

"Oh, honey," Olive's tone softened, a hint of worry creeping in. "Remember the pool fiasco? That didn't exactly go swimmingly, did it?"

The memory hit me like a tidal wave, the shame still raw. My brilliant plan to play damsel in distress backfired spectacularly when a real cramp struck. And Ethan? He just stood there, cool as a cucumber, while the lifeguard fished me out. "And let's not forget about last week when—"

"Zip it, Olive!" I cut her off, not ready for another trip down Humiliation Lane.

A cocktail of frustration and regret bubbled up inside me, a stark reminder of my failed attempts to catch Ethan's eye.

* * *

"Did you hear about Hazel's latest chicka?"

I froze mid-exit from the bathroom stall, eavesdropping on the gossip outside.

"Totally deserved it! She's always stirring up drama," giggled a voice, clearly enjoying my misfortune.

My stomach dropped. News travels fast, doesn't it?

"Right? Just 'cause her folks are loaded, she thinks she's the queen bee!" another voice chimed in.

"Thank God Ethan didn't fall for her tricks!"

"As if! Who'd want a girl with that attitude? She's undatable!" Their laughter echoed off the tiles.

"Such a spoiled princess!" The final jab hung in the air as their footsteps faded away.

Tears pricked my eyes, my fists clenching at my sides.

I'm not the villain they paint me to be. I just stand my ground. Is that so wrong?

Taking a deep breath, I composed myself before stepping out.

People are quick to judge without knowing the whole story.

Growing up, I was often alone in our big, empty house. Mom and Dad were always jet-setting for business, leaving me with just the housekeepers for company.

Despite the lack of parental warmth, I was a happy-go-lucky kid. I had friends, though not all played nice. Some would swipe my lunch, leaving me hungry throughout the day.

With my parents MIA for months on end, I had no one to confide in about my troubles.

I suffered in silence, putting on a brave face for the world.

I let out a wry chuckle, shaking my head at the irony. "Well, well, well. Looks like little miss perfect finally snapped."

The memory of that day still burns bright, a turning point etched in my mind. I'd had enough of being everyone's punching bag. Something inside me just... broke.

I stood alone, abandoned by those who should've had my back. So I did what I had to do - I fought back, fists flying.

Each bruise was a badge of honor, each scrape a lesson learned. And when I finally tasted victory? Oh boy, it was sweet.

From that moment on, the tables turned. No one dared mess with me again. They feared me, sure, but they also loathed me. As if I gave a damn!

I was just serving up a dose of their own medicine. Their anger? Just frustration at losing control over their favorite target.

They called me a bully for standing my ground. They hated me for being tough. But every time I caught my reflection, I couldn't help but smirk.

Pride swelled in my chest. They were right about one thing - villains aren't born, they're made. So if I'm the bad guy in their story, it's because they sculpted me into one.

I can play nice... when people deserve it.