I blinked repeatedly not knowing what to say. Brett's words are like punch in my gut. Leaving me breathless. In hazed. I open my mouth but no sounds came out. I don't know where to start.

Heck! I'm at a loss for words. This is the point at which my mind goes completely blank. That no matter how hard I tried, nothing in my mind made sense.

When I finally found my voice, I mumbled, "It doesn't make sense."

Brett said dryly, "Right. E Everything appears to be rubbish for you."

"That's not true!" I argued. "I couldn't believe we were friends."

He burst out laughing. "Can you believe you have such a ravishingly hot friend?"

I rolled my eyes. "You are far from being hot." I lied. Sure Brett is good-looking and I am no way in a million years admitting that on his face. It will only inflate his oversize ego. Though his look is appealing in the eyes of women, still, for me, his appeal is nothing compared to Ashton.

Brett cocked his brow. "And who do you think is hot?"

Having a conversation like this with Brett seems weird.

"Oh, that good for nothing bad boy," he concluded, nodding. My head snapped at him, my hands gripping the utensils tightly. Brett smirked. "You should stop making assumptions and stop judging him," I advised.

"I'm assuming you like him."

I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off. I probably look like a fish these days, opening and closing my mouth.

"Don't dare to deny; I've already seen signs of you having a crush on him," he said. "Sneaking glances. Wanting to be in his vicinity. You blush and your eyes twinkle every time he looks your way. Thinking about him and finding yourself smiling. Wanting to be his friend so you can make a move." He emphasized each phrase by raising each of his finger.

I stared at him, appalled.

"That's not true!"

"He's trying to provoke you," Leila, Brett's younger sister who had been watching us from the start, commented.

"Are you two okay?" mom inquired. Brett smiled and nodded, then continued to savor his food, not failing to smirk in my direction. What a great way to say we were friends. Sarcasm intended.

"So, Leila, where do you go to school?" my mother inquired. "Same school with your brother?"

Leila shook her head, a warm smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I go to the other school, Greenvelt High," Leila chatted, adding that she's in grade 8 and that she doesn't want to go to school, just like Brett, because she can't stand seeing his smug face in the house and can't stand seeing it in school. She also stated that Greenvelt is Costados's rival school.

"How about you, Brett? I heard you're attending the same school with my Annathea?" dad asked, glancing at me.

I tensed.

Ghad. This is torture. From the corner of my eyes I saw Brett grinned, a mischievous one. I began to dish up my plate with mountains of foods and starts chomping it like a cow. I definitely look like a famish girl who haven't fed for a month. But I care less. I want to distract myself.

"Yes. We kind of stumble each other in random circumstances." Brett answered.

"Good to know you're making friends aside from the twins." Mom commented happily. "I thought you're having a hard time considering you're forced to move school."

"Annathea is so friendly and sociable." His voice so sweet that it almost fooled me. But this is Brett we're talking about. His every word darting to me is full of mockery. "She's full of charm that even the notorious bad guys in school want to be friends with her."

Leila gasped. "Really? The popular clique? You're so lucky," she sighed. "They are not labeled as a 'popular clique' for no reason; they are popular not only in your school, but also in others; they are known for their good looks and troublemakers."

"Shut up Le." Brett snapped and David eyed him sternly. "Enough, Brett."

"I don't want you to be around those kind of people, Anna. I want you to stay out of trouble and graduate high school like a normal girl you are." Dad said.

I nodded meekly.

"If you want I can watch her at school." Brett offered and I choked. Lump block my airway and I forgot to breathe. I pound my chest as Leila offers me a glass of water which I gulp straight away.

"Are you okay Anna?" mom asked, worry was written on her face. She stood up and walked over to my chair, but Dad stopped her.

"Where's your dining etiquette, kid?" he asked. Even though his voice is calm, his eyes are not. As his stern eyes fixed on me, a pang of pain crept into my chest. I felt so small around the table. For a brief moment, I was mystified by the lack of worry on his face. How can a father be so cold to his daughter?

Then it hits me.

I don't have ivory hair like them. I don't have both of their hazel eyes. Not even their Roman nose.

I am different.

"That's very kind of you, Brett, but I don't think it's necessary; I'm no longer a little girl. I can handle myself," I said.

Brett snorted. "Of course, you can handle yourself, like you can defend yourself from those addict guys in the alley. If it wasn't for Easton, I don't know where you'd glean up right now."

"What do you know?" I seethed, my face flushed with rage. How did he know that? Did Easton tell his friends about what happened to us? Nah. I don't think he's that type of guy. Probably Brett was one of those school guys that Easton referring to who help him that day. To be honest, it annoys me that Brett knows so much more than I do.

I glared at him, my breath ragged. To say that I am mad would be an understatement. I'm astounded by Brett's ability to make me feel this way. He seemed to have pressed a button in me, causing all the anger and frustration that had been building up in my veins for a long time to swell. I wanted to scream. To let it all out. My eyes stung from the tears that were pooling in them. I'm sick and tired of being mistreated. I caught a glimpse of guilt in his eyes for a split second. Or is it pity? I'm not sure because it's all gone. His eyes glowed with amusement, and he flashed me a lazy smile.

"I know a lot more than you think."

I stood up. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom." I need to leave or I'll explode like a time bomb.

"On the second floor, sweetheart; turn to your right and there'll be a door at the end of the hall," David said, smiling.

I follow as David has instructed. I climbed the stairs to the second floor and turned to the right. I've finally come to appreciate the house's beauty. The inside of the house is light green and white, in compared to the beige exterior. They have a fireplace in the corner and a flat screen television bolted to the wall. The furniture is in a forest green color, and the wide-bay windows are draped in white satin. The living plants in the corners exudes the house a friendly and relaxing vibe.

As I step out of the bathroom a strong hand drags me into the room next door.

"You take too much time," Brett spoke as he sat down on his bed.

"What else are you keeping from me?"

He made a 'tsk' sound as he looked at me. "You're so naive; it's amusing having fun with you," he said.

My thoughts wander back to the first time we met, to the subtle insults hurled at me, and then tonight.

"Why do you hate me so much?" my voice croaked. What have I done for him to be so mean to me? When I came back here I don't remember that we have a close moment together. I can't put my finger on the idea that I hurt him to the extent that he humiliated me in front of my parents.

He laughed sarcastically. His green-pea eyes watch me warily. "Hate you? I don't hate you, believe me, because what I felt was more hatred towards you," he said as he approached me slowly. Every step he took forward, I took a step back until I felt the cold surface behind me. He was standing so close that it's making me uncomfortable.

I gulped audibly.

"Have you stalked someone and realize how much you missed her and how much she changed?" he whispered.

His jaw tightened and I looked away.

"I'd come that low, Annathea," he grumbled, his teeth clenched. "I look after you on social medias. I was so stupid to wait for a girl every waking day, hoping she'd come back or at the very least give me a formal goodbye."

"I missed that girl to whom I used to confide all my secrets. I missed the girl with whom I used to share all of my nonsense... I was missing my best friend. And now that she had returned, I was glad that we could finally catch up after all these years. However, it did not turn out as I had hoped. Fuck. You completely forgot about me! "

I pressed harder against the wall as he barked at me. I gently pushed him as his heavy breathing stopped. Brett's face was bright red. In frustration, he repeatedly tousled his coffee hair; his veins appearing on his neck. Tears pours down my cheeks without my consent.

Silence engulfed for the both of us.

"I'm jealous, you know. I feel betrayed, again. I feel like Ashton will steal another important girl in my life for the second time," he sighed. "And all I can do is stand back and watch him do it."

I walked up to him and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "No one is betraying you, Brett, and Ashton is not all that bad; if only you knew him better-"

"Damn it! Why don't you understand that we don't want you to get hurt? I don't want you to get hurt. We know Ashton better than you do, and he won't get close to someone unless he gets something."

"You judge so easily." I said exasperated. I know I'm being difficult, but I don't want to pass judgment simply because someone says so. I don't want to hate Ashton no matter what they say about him. I don't want to make judgements on him until I know who he is. Of what lies beneath the bad boy façade.

Even though Ashton is cold and annoying, and even though he doesn't want to be my friend, and he occasionally irritates me, I feel compelled to defend him to others.

"And you're not the Annathea I used to know." He said. Hint of hurt, accusation and scorn lacing his voice.

I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I am no longer the person you used to know, and I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. Life doesn't have a reset button," I explained. "You can't hold grudges against me for that long, Brett, it's all in the past," I said, trailing off. "I'm truly sorry for all the trouble I've caused you." I apologized.

I know how difficult it is to forgive and forget, especially the forgetting part, but we cannot change the past. The best thing we can do is to learn from it. I know I make it sound so simple, but it's the truth. The more we hold to things we can't change, the more likely we are to be hurt.

"You mean move on?" he asked, baffled.

I nodded. "I mean move on and start over," I smiled as I extended my hand in front of him. "Are we still friends?"

"And oh, I may also help you make a move with Mia." I added, wiggling my brows suggestively. He let out a grumble sigh and clasped my hand.