Hailie rolled her eyes in typical fashion at Kat’s comment and her unnecessary thumping of the door but… It stung. ‘I don’t exactly want to be stuck in here with you either’, stung. It didn’t make any sense, obviously. Hailie couldn’t exactly throw her toys out the pram- she didn’t want to be around Kat so she couldn’t be upset if the sentiment was mutual. Only, she was. In fact, an active pout may have even crossed her lips (which only made her angrier, and poutier).
It also crossed Hailie’s mind that if she really wanted to, like really wanted to, she could tear the damn door off its hinges. She was a werewolf now. She could act like it, to a certain extent. She wouldn’t owe Kat any explanations. She wasn’t doing that though, was she? Damn it. “No one ever accused Greg Porter of being a genius,” she said, uncrossing her arms.
This wasn’t a seize fire, it wasn’t. Hailie could hold a grudge. She was the undisputed queen of holding grudges, it was just a little harder now. Behind closed doors. Well, door. The ‘princess’ was like a shot to the heart, a ‘don’t call me that’ primed and ready on Hailie’s tongue as she tried to ignore the way her fingertips remembered. “I will.” The silence lasted seconds, or years, between them before Hailie let out a frustrated sigh. “What are you even doing here, Kat? Shouldn’t you be living it up with your shitty new friends at Birkshire, far away from this town and everyone in it?” She tried not to sound bitter, to sound hurt. It didn’t work.
Oh how she wished she could just magically unlock that door with a flick of her wrist. But this wasn’t Harry Potter, there was no alohomora, even if she was a witch. Part of her wanted Hailie to want to be here, instead of forced together by Greg and his stupid plans.
“Oh he’s absolutely not.” she said with a scoff at the mention of her friend, who was slowly inching his way down that not overly long list of people who she actually genuinely liked.
If Kat were honest with herself, she was tired of acting like she didn’t care. Care about her reputation, about whether or not people liked her, about Hailie and if Hailie liked her. Because she did care, and it scared her. So she’d made sure to ruin what they’d had, to burn it down rather than be vulnerable and maybe possibly experience happiness, or something like it. And then proceed to torture herself by coming to an event that Hailie would be at with her new boyfriend. Classic.
But maybe this was another chance, to be vulnerable. It probably wouldn’t change anything, but Kat guessed she probably owed it to herself to try opening up, even if it was to someone who seemed to unreservedly hate her and with good reason.
“I’m here because of you, Hailie.” She said, her gaze fixed on the carpet in front of her. “Because this is where the people who are the closest things I have to friends are. I wanted to get dressed up and spend the night with my friends. I didn’t choose Birkshire, Hailie. If you want to hate me because of where I go to school, you can.”