My Brother, Cupid Part 8

The students ran to the front of the room, who couldn't resist free chocolate. They would shove it in their mouths and then pause for a few moments to realize they had just tasted a small piece of heaven. It's the love magic in the chocolate, I think. Hadn't I just specifically asked Chase not to do this exact thing? Why doesn't he ever listen?

"Chase!" I yell.
"Did she like them?" he asks running down the stairs.
"No, she wouldn't even eat them," I say.
"What?! Is she allergic?" he asks.
I ignore that last question. "Didn't I ask you not to use any love magic?"
"Nope. You told me not to use arrows."
"Because of the love magic, Chase! I didn't want Haley to fall in love with me!"
"Are you crazy? Why not?"
"Because I knew it would be fake!" I yell, "If she falls in love with me, I want it to be on her own terms not yours!"
"Oh. I don't understand."
"No of course you don't. You're an idiot," I say.
"Hey. C'mon be nice," he says.
"Forget it. I'm through being nice. I'm sick of you. You've gone way too far." Then I went to far when I yelled, "Sometimes I hate you!" I immediately regretted it.
Hate was my brother's number one no-no word. He wouldn't let me use it to describe anything: food, tv shows, situations, and especially not people. Ever since he became Cupid and decided that love was the source of all happiness and all things good in life he decided that hate was the devil. He even got mad at my mom once when she used it.
So needless to say I knew I was in trouble. I wasn't sure what he was going to do. "Hate?" he squeaked, "You hate me?" That wasn't what I expecting.
I was about to apologize, but I was still too upset to act on this notion. Instead I went along with the whole hate thing. "Yes," was my answer, true or not. "I do. You're way annoying, and super weird, and-"
I was about to go on but he started to sway back and forth and started to whimper and I knew I had to finish fast.
"And . . . I can't stay here with you anymore," I say as my big finale.
He looks like he's just seen a ghost and doesn't answer. A small part of me tells me that what I'm doing is tearing him up and I should stop but another part of me is enjoying the revenge. To make my point clear I stomp out of the house. He doesn't even try coming after me.
Then to make my point extra clear I make my way to my brother's worst enemy's house.

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