Make Me Hate You

Outside the car that drove me through the small town of Bridgechester, New Hampshire, nothing had changed.

The colorful colonial houses and small businesses still peppered the brick streets, gold plaques boasting the historic significance of each one along the way.

The air that blew through the open windows still smelled like a New England summer — fresh and clean and woodsy, the humid summer heat seeping in and frizzing my long, freshly bleached blonde hair.

Bridgechester Prep still had the same mascot, the same crimson and gold lettered signs congratulating the recent graduates, and the same castle-esque brick build.