Title: Strong Hate
LUNDYN
I tried to do everything in my power to distance myself from Maverick Strong; Even putting some miles between us by moving across country. Yet, here I find myself back where I started from - in my hometown and too close to Maverick. This time there will be no running away. This time I am finally putting an end to this vendetta.
MAVERICK
Trying to forget her was like trying to avoid a head-on collision with a semi truck - it just wasn’t happenin’. My little sister’s best friend and my enemy since sophomore year. Our hate is mutual and a must - it’s also fun. When Lundyn moves back home after leaving town the day after … Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself. Either way, the hate is still strong and if hating isn’t right, I don’t want to be wrong.
“Bitch better have my money.” Rihanna and I sing in the car as I travel down Interstate 35, heading back to Lansing, Texas, or Lan-sun as the locals pronounce it. For the hundredth time, I check my odometer to ensure I’m not speeding – you know since I am unemployed and all, and can’t afford to pay a ticket. The cruise control in my late model dull red Honda Accord went out when N’Sync was still the craze. My favorite part of the song comes on so I leave one hand on the wheel and make a mock gun with the other.
“Like, block, block, block.” I sing with so much gangsta that I scare myself while I emulate someone shooting a gun out my window. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest as I realize a moment too late that I just finger shot at a parked cop car. Trying to keep myself cool I divert my attention back to the road. “Sorry Rihanna, you gotta go.” The music dissipates and so does my ‘wanna fuck you up’ attitude.
Suddenly, my mouth goes dry, and my chest fills with dread as red and blue lights flood my car.
“Oh fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.” What is it about being pulled over that makes you rethink every dumb life decision you’ve ever made? Like, I wonder if he will know I smoked weed in the tenth grade or last week—who’s keeping track? Once I’m parked securely on the side of the highway, I lean over my messy console were empty cups and receipts go to die reaching for my wallet and insurance card.
“Put your hands where I can see them,” a booming male voice demands over the squad car loudspeaker.
My hands jerk up as if they’re tied to puppeteer's string.
“Holy, shit,” I squeak as sweat beads form across my brow, under my pits, under my breasts. Well, shit… I’m a sweaty fucking mess. Now I realize it’s true what they say, your life does flash before your eyes when you are about to die. Well, in my case, the last twenty-four hours are flashing; from me getting fired, packing up and fleeing from that shit hole called Virginia, jumping to now— about to get thrown in prison for finger shooting an officer. Prison! I can’t go to prison, I’m claustrophobic as fuck, and I am petite. I will definitely be someone’s bitch on the first night. I didn’t think twice about prison when I was about to pounce on Olivia, but now when it’s in my face – oh hell to the no.
A heavy knock on my window ejects me from my mental nightmare. With my hands still suspended in the air, I turn wide-eyed to look at the trooper. He isn’t crouching, so the only thing I see is his uniform covered midsection.
I don’t know if it’s fear, adrenaline, or pure stupidity that prompts me to yell out, “I’m claustrophobic and can’t become someone’s bitch!” This is followed by a few heavy pants that nearly make me lightheaded.
RD Berg lives in the great state of Texas with her three boys who drive her to the brink of insanity most days. She loves to read, write and watch her two favorite shows, Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead. When she isn’t enthralled with a novel or a gory show, you can find her in the stands loudly cheering on her boys at their basketball and football games. She has three strong beliefs in life; Vanilla cake and Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream should be a major food group, Halloween should be celebrated every month, and Harry Potter’s birthday should be a national holiday.
I'm Texas proud with the accent to prove it. During the day I wear scrubs as a cape and try to save the world one patient at a time as a nurse. At night, mainly Friday nights, you can find me with a glass of wine faithfully by my side while I type away on the computer. I seem to get my days and nights mixed up, because my best ideas seem to come around midnight, so I'm a complete night owl. I have a long-term boyfriend who puts up with my crazy and a black lab named Sadie AKA Sadie Lady. In the in-between times of my life, I'm just tryin' to survive my twenties with beer, good friends and fun adventures!
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