A/N--So sorry about the length of this chapter, it's pretty short.  But it ends where it needs to! And the next chapter shouldn't take long at all considering I'm halfway through with it and off school all week for Mardi Gras :) So enjoy guys! Please comment/vote/do what you do!

And for all you Lucas haters/bashers: this chapter is for you :)

I'm pissed when I head on over to Lucas' house. Downright furious. More mad than I've been at him in a really long time. Sure it has nothing on how angry I was when he ditched me for Destiny two years ago, but still. I'm livid at him and I'm practically itching with the urge to claw his eyes out and scream at him. 

Why? 

Because of his girlfriend's lovely Facebook post this morning. I'd gotten on this morning when I realized I hadn't joined the social world in weeks, and of course the first thing I saw was this lovely post by his blonde and perfectly perky girlfriend. 

Have officially made two and a half years with the most amazing boyfriend ever, I love you Luccy <3 

Yeah, she says this not even twenty-four hours after he pretty much made out with me. On his bed. With the lights off and everything. So what the fuck? Has he not talked to her like anyone with one shred of dignity would? Has he seriously not broken up with her or confessed or...? 

I just really don't even know how to feel anymore. I'd been upset with having thought I'd broken them up by being some home wrecking hussy, because I honestly didn't believe he'd hurt me like this again. Sure I knew that the odds of us becoming a perfect little couple were extremely slim, but I at least thought he'd have some kind of humanity with me when telling me we could never be. But no...he can't even do that for me.  

He's such an ass hole and I'm through with him. 

I'm done. 

No one should be able to treat me this way and I'm done with it.  

So that's why I'm going to his house. I'm going to grab my things from the guest room and then after telling him with a strong head that we're totally and completely done being friends, I'm going to leave. Zara and I had a long, drawn out conversation this morning and she basically told me that I was welcome to crash on her couch for as long as I would like, that she gets bored living there anyways. 

I said yes. 

My mom has fled town yet again, not even bothering to call me but instead just leaving me a text with a quick apology and instructions to thank Lucas' parents for letting me crash at theirs.  

So if you can't tell, my morning has probably been one of the worst ever. 

But I'm through being sad and feeling sorry for myself. I'm not going to let people walk all over me anymore; I'm not going to let them treat me like my dad, like my mom is now, and how Lucas...and how Lucas treats me. I'm done being a doormat. I'm through with it. It's time for me to be strong and to live life the way I want, not how people want me to. 

And I'm starting now. 

Starting with Lucas. 

I walk up to their front door about five minutes later, and by the time I'm wrapping my fist against the wooden door, my adrenaline's pounding like I'm at a rock concert. My insides are practically swimming with angry words that I want to throw at his face, at expressions that I'd never have to use on him again. I just want to pound him with hate. 

I want to be a bitch to him. 

I want to treat him as badly as he's treated me. 

The door opens a minute or so later, and when I see who is standing there I almost want to let out a bitter laugh. Standing there, in all of her beautiful and blonde glory, is Destiny, and she looks so emotional that I can't help but wonder what the perfect couple is up to right now. Perhaps watching The Notebook together while she snuggles against his warm and hard chest? Maybe he's been tickling her lovingly until she starts to cry. 

I don't know. All I know is that I really, really want to slap that tearfully happy expression off of her face.  

When it hits her that I'm standing here, obviously looking for Lucas, she takes a step closer towards the door frame and then folds her arms over her chest. The hostility coming from this girl's body language is rolling off in waves. But it never touches her voice. She greets me facedly, "Hi Naomi! How's it going?" 

Good God does she practice that voice in front of a mirror or something? If not for the fiery hatred so easily shown in her bright blue eyes, I would have thought that she liked me or something. But I know better. I know that she hates me deep down. 

And that's totally okay with me, seeing as how I hate her just as much. 

"Awesome," I tell her, not at all hiding the anger in my voice as well as she did. I sound pissed, and judging by how that once fake happy-to-see me expression slides off her face, she can easily tell. "Is Lucas here?" 

Now looking extremely comfortable because I'm not going out of my way to act like everything is totally and utterly okay like I usually do, Destiny tucks a flyaway blonde ringlet behind her pearl-encrusted ear and then says, "Yeah, but um...we were talking about something and I don't really think..." 

"Nay?" I hear Lucas' voice come from behind her and even though I can't see him because of the shadows and the way that Destiny is so obviously shielding him from me, I know that he's got that completely fake loving expression on his face. I used to go goo-goo gaga over that look, and now...now I know that look for what it really is. 

It's fake. 

They're both fake. 

That's why she looks like Barbie and he looks like Ken. 

And with that newfound knowledge, it's going to be so much easier for me to tell him how I truly feel.  

So that's why I raise myself up on my tip toes and then, after so rudely placing my hand on Destiny's shoulder, I can see Lucas standing right behind her, looking as perfect as he always does. I say, "Hi Lucas. How's your day going?" 

Looking taken aback by how hostile my voice is, he struggles to answer and settles with, "It's going good. What are you-?" 

I cut him off by looking Destiny right in her crystal blue eyes and asking, "Could you move? Kind of in the way there." 

"Um. Yeah," she says, her voice still sounding as pristine and sweet as it always does even though I'm being so outright rude to her. She moves away from the door and then relocates to stand behind Lucas, and the moment that I see her dainty little hand sneak out to hold onto Lucas' arm as if for support, I feel the anger in my system increase ten-fold. 

Lucas doesn't react to her grabbing onto him like I'm going to reach out and bite her or something; instead he keeps on staring at me like I've grown ten heads or something. He's looking like he really cannot believe that I'm here and treating him like the scum he's always treated me like. Obviously the perfect little golden boy can't take a dose of his own medicine. 

"Nay, what's going on?" he says, his voice almost sounding worried.  

Is it weird to say that I like the worry in his voice? I like that, for once, I have the power over him. Ever since I've known the boy he's been able to treat me like his own little puppet, as if he's held the strings to everything I am. But now I'm holding the strings, and damn it if I'm not going to take advantage of it. 

"Why so worried, Lucas? Afraid I'm going to tell Destiny what happened?" Good God I sound like I'm possessed or something. But that's okay with me, it really is. If he really is just worried that I'm here to tell Destiny about our little make-out session last night and ruin their relationship, than he's a bigger ass hole than I ever would have thought. But I guess I'm finally seeing him for what he really is; a fake, pretty, coward who loves to control people. That's what Lucas Hamilton is. He's not that perfect boy with a heart of gold like I'd once thought. 

He's nothing close to that. 

I see Destiny shoot her boyfriend a brief accusatory glance, but Lucas doesn't even bother to look down and match it with his own. Instead he's still looking at me like he doesn't know who I am. He struggles to catch his voice, but when he does he says, "I'm dealing with that, alright?" 

"Oh don't worry about me blabbing," I say cynically, "I'm not that kind of girl. I don't like to fuck with people's feelings like the two of you do." 

Lucas takes a step away from Destiny and towards me, his arms snaking away from her grasp as if he wants to touch me, but she uses her other arm to grab at him and lure him back in. He stays put, but he says, "Naomi, I don't know what..." 

"But you do," I say accusingly, leaning my head in towards him for just a second. "You know exactly what I'm talking about Lucas, and so does your little girlfriend there. You both have messed with me so badly that I'm pretty sure my high school life has been ruined forever. There really aren't any good memories, and I can thank you two for that. Destiny, you were so insecure about yourself and threatened by my friendship with Lucas that you chose to take away the only person that's ever truly been there for me." 

"That's not fair," she argues indignantly, as if the thought of her ever solely ruining someone is just incomprehensible. "Lucas could have told me no, it wasn't just..." 

I cut her off by looking away from her and instead glaring at Lucas, who has for some reason or another managed to go completely silent. His navy blue eyes are completely guarded, and I hate that I cannot even see if this whole thing is affecting him or not. But I should know the truth, really. He's never truly cared for how I feel. Me being this upset cannot make him feel bad. No, the only thing that he could possibly be worried about is losing his girlfriend because he had a brusque lapse in judgment late last night when he kissed me. 

I look on at the girl standing in front of me, holding onto the guy that I've always been in love with like he's her only lifeline, and tell her without a blip, "I'm completely aware of Lucas' role in this Destiny, don't think that I don't. I just don't want you to think that you've gotten away with what you've done. You're a bitch, Destiny, and that's what you're always going to be in my mind. You may be this perfect little sweetheart to everyone else at that fucking high school, but not to me. And I know that that's going to drive you crazy, because you're only goal in life is to have everyone love you, no matter how fake and conniving you may have to be to achieve that." 

Not even giving her a chance to respond to me, I then move my glare from her to the boy standing in front of me, looking at me like he either wants to cry or just push me out of the house and pretend like I don't exist. I'm not stupid enough to fool myself into thinking it's the first option. I'm not going to set myself up for that. I know it's the second. 

And that's okay. 

Because I've come to terms with the fact that he really does not even care about me. 

"And Lucas, I don't even know where to start with you. You've been my best friend since we were kids, at least on my side of things. It's only taken me this long to realize that I was never truly your best friend, and that I was probably just some thorn in your side that you had to take pity on because my home life sucked. I've come to terms with it now and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to be okay. But I do want you to know that I hate you now. You've done nothing but take emotional stabs at me since sophomore year, and I'm so beyond sick of it. I'm sick of you and how you treat me like I'm nothing.  

I do want to say thank you, though, for letting me stay here while I was going through my whole family thing and for giving me a brief façade of a rekindled friendship. It was really nice while I believed it.  

But that's all I want to thank you for. I would like to say that even though it was all fake, it was nice to have a 'best friend'. But I can't say that to you Lucas, simply because not being your friend would have saved me a lot of heartbreak and tears. You've damaged me, Lucas; I'm not going to act like I'm stronger than I truly am.  

And because of this, I hate you. You played me with like I was some kind of toy and, that's really...that's really not okay." 

It's at this time that I become aware of the hot tears pouring down my cheeks and gathering in the little pools at the corners of my mouth. And it's then that I realize that both Lucas and Destiny are staring at me; Destiny looking more horrified than she would if she ran into Casper at Wal-Mart, and Lucas looking like he got punched in the stomach. 

Basic instinct would tell me to run away from the two of them because this whole situation is incredibly mortifying, but for some reason I can't. I'm here to tell them everything that's on my mind, and I know that it'll drive me crazy if I don't get to tell them everything I want.  

So as I pathetically reach up to wipe the tears from my face, I say, "So I sincerely hope that you two are happy together. You deserve each other. You both love making people miserable, namely me, and you're both incredibly perfect looking and, well, perfect at everything else too. So you two are a perfect couple, and I'm sorry for ever thinking that I should be with you, Lucas. You are obviously so much happier being with someone who's just as horrendously ugly on the inside like you are." 

Destiny then breaks away from her life-support and takes a step towards me. I know that I should probably move in the respect of self-preservation, but I can't move. I can't will my legs to back up like I know that they should.  

She doesn't do anything, though, except tell me, "You need to leave, Naomi. You're achieving nothing by being here." 

I look up at Lucas when she's done saying this, and I'd be stupid if I believed that heart-broken expression in his eyes. He looks like I've done nothing but ripped his heart out of his chest and danced on it, but I know better than that now. He doesn't care for me that much. He's just a really good actor. 

An actor that I've loved for an extremely large chunk of my life. 

But that episode is over now. 

Ignoring everything she just said, I tell Lucas, "Don't talk to me at work anymore. Don't text me. Don't call. You should at least try to respect my getting over you. I know that I shouldn't have to, since you have been so awful to me, but I can't help it. I did love you. I don't know why, but I did. And you should for once do something for me, and not act like you care like you've been doing. Just be the jerk that I know you are deep down, I'm sure it'll help." 

The last thing I leave them with? Smiling at the two of them through my tears, saying "Happy Anniversary guys," and then disappearing off the porch.