Hate to Forget

by L V Chase

  “You don’t know what she’s thinking.”

  “Yes, I do,” he says. “She’s been asking about you and Ethan, and she directly stated that you weren’t interested in her.”

  “How do you know that? Roman? He couldn’t tell his ass from a hole in the ground.”

  “No,” my father says. “I got it from his cousin.”

  I look down at my glass, wishing there was still liquor in it. “Of course. Emmy. What did you promise her? Money?”

  “Just some support for when she goes to medical school,” he says. “As long as Sadie ends up with you, she’ll get my full support and a future position at one of my hospitals. You know how easily these girls with shitty families are manipulated.”

  “You’re playing a bit fast and loose with the rules, aren’t you?” I challenge.

  “Everyone is right now,” he says. “I’m certain the other families have their own spies.”

  He’s right. It means that, in the end, I can’t blatantly fight against what my father wants, because my father will always find a way to undermine me. The other families have their own advantages.

  “It must be difficult for you,” I say. “To always be so ruthless.”

  “Well, Klay.” He forces a smile. “When you learn to be as ruthless as me, I’ll be proud to call you my son.”

  I toss my glass over to him. “I’m going to bed.”

  As I leave the room, the memories of having sex with Sadie come back to me. It may be the only thing that helps me sleep tonight.

  22

  Sadie

  “He’s a liar,” Emmy says, emphasizing the last syllable. Her hands fling upward from the steering wheel after she stops at the traffic light. “In the beginning, God created the heavens, the earth, and lying dicks like Roman. He knows you’re not a prostitute. He just thinks you’re the type of girl where he can lower your self-esteem enough to get you to think he’s a catch. He’s not. He’s a lying dick, which is the worst type of dick. I can’t believe I missed all of that. That’s what I get for going to the bathroom to redo my eyeliner. My vanity sabotaged me again. I should call his mother and tell her exactly what he did. God, he’s such an entitled asshole.”

  I stare at the bug smear on her windshield as she drives us to school. After I’d pulled that trick on Roman, I’d thought it might turn into a good weekend, but it was closer to a test to see how much I could take before I had a meltdown.

  I’d spent an unhealthy amount of time on Sunday, lying in my bed, trying to not get consumed by the anger and self-pity over Klay’s rejection. By the time I got out of bed and tried to be a productive member of society, I had found Beth downstairs. She told me that the psychologists in the psychiatric unit still weren’t letting anyone outside of hospital staff talk to my grandmother. She had a brief ‘mental health crisis’, so the time frame for her rehabilitation was in constant flux. They didn’t want to risk her emotional stability by introducing any new variables.

  I am, apparently, a new variable. With my current emotional instability, I understand what they’re talking about, but it feels like I’m being kicked when I’m already down.

  “Of course, you were brilliant,” Emmy continues. “A classic heroine. I would have paid to see his face when he realized what you did. God, I can’t believe I missed it. I miss everything exciting in this school.”

  “I’m going to give Ethan a shot,” I say aloud.

  Her forehead furrows. She nervously flutters her fingers along the steering wheel.

  “We…we weren’t even talking about Ethan,” she says. “What made you think about this? I thought the homecoming dance…I thought that was his chance.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been listening to what you’ve been saying,” I say. “But I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. I’ve been too hung up on Klay. I left my date with Ethan to leave with Klay and—”

  “Wait, what? You didn’t mention that. I thought you called a car service.”

  “It was nothing,” I lie, waving away the moment. “He was an asshole like he always is, which is the point. I keep letting myself get hurt. But Ethan will be better for me. It’s dumb for me to keep jumping into the fire and be surprised to find out that I get burned every time. I can grow to care about Ethan, which will make him more attractive to me, right? At some point, the physical attraction I have for Klay will switch to him. It’s a new week. It’s a new mindset.”

  “Hmm.” Emmy chews on her bottom lip. “Honestly, I think we’re attracted to who we’re attracted to. If you have strong feelings for Klay, I don’t think you can transfer them over.”

  She slows down her Fiat in front of the school. I undo my seatbelt. She reaches across the center console to grab my arm.

  “Sadie, I just don’t think you should give up on him,” she says. “Maybe he’s just confused.”

  “Do you think Roman’s just confused too?” I question. “Some people are just terrible. It’s not my job to be their punching bag.”

  I open the door and pull away from her.

  “Thanks for the ride, Emmy,” I say.

  She gives me a hesitant smile. “Just…think twice before you do anything,” she says.

  “Thanks,” I repeat, waving before I walk away. I keep my stride long, determined to turn my intentions into actions. Ethan isn’t as easy to find as Roman—he doesn’t so much as demand attention as gather a small group of followers. I should find it endearing instead of cultish. I’ll come around to that, too.

  I find him at the end of the seniors’ hallway, near the windows and the vending machine. His friends move away as I step up to him. In one fluid motion, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.

  It’s a good kiss—the right amount of pressure, his lips are soft, and his tongue remains in his mouth—but as I pull away from him, there’s nothing thriving under my skin. With Klay, a whole garden could have bloomed with all of the sensations he evoked, but with Ethan, there’s not even a weed.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “For leaving the dance so abruptly. I got a call about my grandmother, and I needed to leave. I just—everything was just so chaotic. But I shouldn’t have left you without saying anything.”

  His eyes search my face. It’s not the face of someone who was just kissed. It’s someone who’s suspicious they’re being lied to and is digging for a motive. Or maybe I only see that because I am guilty of lying.

  His suspicion disappears with the curve of his smile. “Sadie, that kiss makes up for it. Or at least a little bit of it. You might owe me a few more kisses.”

  “Maybe,” I say. “I have to get to homeroom, but I’ll see you in biology.”

  “I can’t wait,” he says, already turning back toward his devotees.

  As I spin around to continue to homeroom, Klay’s leather jacket catches my eye. I glance back at him. It looks like he’s talking to one of the scrawny boys from my art class, but now he’s staring daggers at Ethan.

  Good. I hope he’s simmering with self-hatred, knowing I’m not going to play his games anymore. I’ve moved on, and he’s getting left behind.

  I turn back around to Ethan. I step closer to him than before, wrapping my arms around his waist. This time, he bows his head as I kiss him. It’s two quick, consecutive kisses. This time, wisps of guilt puff out of me.

  I give Ethan an uneasy smile before turning around again. I expect Klay to disappear like he always does, but he’s looking directly at me now. His face is apathetic, but something in his eyes reminds me of rainstorms.

  I duck my head, hurrying to homeroom.

  23

  Sadie

  Sitting next to Klay in biology feels like I’m sitting next to the serpent in Eden. If I’m Eve, an ignorant woman who only desired to gain knowledge and experience godliness, then the fruit I bit into granted me the wisdom that passion is poisonous, and I’ll be haunted by that passion until I die.

  “As some of you may recall, the hypothalamus is the part of the brain that makes decisio
ns for the endocrine system,” Mr. Miller drones on.

  I jot down the notes, but my mind is consumed in the sensations of sex in a Jeep. It was difficult not to think about before. Sitting right beside Klay makes it damn near impossible.

  Roman is turned sideways in his chair. He keeps scowling in my direction. I avoid looking at him at all.

  “When you’re finished filling out the worksheet,” Mr. Miller continues. “Contain your excitement because there’s a second sheet. You’re going to read about the fight or flight response and answer them as well. Try to not disappoint me this time.”

  Roman holds out the worksheets to me. When I reach forward to take it, he snatches it back.

  “I don’t think you actually need this,” he sneers. “You’re too busy trying to ruin an innocent man’s reputation with false allegations.”

  “I didn’t make any allegations.”

  “You know exactly what I mean, you little bitch.”

  He bursts out of his chair. I recoil away from him, but he’s already at my side, his hand on the back of my chair and leaning over me. His face is inches away from mine.

  “Listen, sweet cheeks, your little trick might make you think that you’re smarter or more devious than me,” he says. “But I can promise you that no one is more devious than me. You started a war that you can’t win. I’m going to make you regret that you didn’t just spread those whore legs for me.”

  “Roman,” Ethan says. “Sit back down. Sadie doesn’t care about your threats.”

  I sit up a little straighter as Roman pulls away, leaving the worksheets in front of me. I keep one of the packets and pass the rest to the boy behind me. Roman sits back down and smacks Ethan with the back of his hand.

  “Are we still bros or what?” he asks.

  Somewhere nearby, I hear a bee. I glance around me, but I don’t see it anywhere.

  Ethan shrugs. “It depends on how well you deal with defeat.”

  I glance over at Klay. He’s texting under the table. I didn’t need him to save me, but after all of the times he’s stepped in to protect me from Roman, I’ve lost some of the protection I’d grown accustomed to.

  The bee continues to buzz. I check under my chair. Nothing.

  Klay glances over at me as I stand up to check my chair. He turns back to his phone.

  The sound could be a cell phone. I thought mine was on silent, but maybe I tapped some button configuration or something on the screen to switch it to vibrate.

  I take my bag off the chair. Mr. Miller keeps looking over here now. I check the front pocket. My phone is there. The screen is black, but my bag is still buzzing.

  The main pocket is open by a few inches. I unzip it the rest of the way.

  The object is hot pink. It looks like a microphone.

  As I pull it out, I see it doesn’t have any separate components. It’s purely made out of a rubbery-material with small indent near one of the ends with the power symbol in the center of the indent.

  As Roman starts cracking up and Ethan snorts, I realize what it is.

  It’s a vibrator.

  I chuck it at Roman’s head. As soon as it bounces off of his oversized forehead, his smile vanishes and his face turns bright red. He snatches it up from where it had fallen on the floor and uses it to point at me.

  “Listen, you little bitch,” he snarls. “You don’t have any right to be angry at me. After what you did at the dance, you’re lucky I didn’t hide this by shoving it up your gaping pussy and forcing—”

  Klay moves so quickly over our table that I barely know what’s happening until his hands are on Roman’s throat. Even when he has Roman bent backward over the lab table and Roman’s hands are spastically slamming against Klay’s shoulders, I don’t believe it’s a real, genuine attempt to kill him until I see Roman’s face turning pink and his efforts to push Klay off diminishing. His hands change from hitting to slapping to barely scraping against Klay’s arms.

  Mr. Miller pushes past Ethan, who seems to be trying to talk Klay into letting Roman go, and grabs Klay by his shoulders. He’s shouting words that I can’t quite concentrate on, but they must work because Klay lets Roman go. Klay slowly takes a step back, his hands slowly rising and clasping behind his neck. He’s slowly shaking his head.

  Everything is in slow motion except for Roman, who is gasping for breath as he falls to the floor. The world becomes an old war painting, the colors all blurring, and everyone’s emotions heightened to a point that is almost seems exaggerated.

  “Klay,” I say quietly.

  His eyes flit over to me. Mr. Miller glances at both of us.

  “All of you—go to the principal’s office,” he orders.

  “What?” Roman rasps, unsteady on his knees.

  “Yes, you too, Mr. Shaw. I noticed the vibrator, and I am not as much of an idiot as you all assume that I am,” he says. “If the principal decides that you need to go to the hospital, that’s his decision. But I am not going to be the one responsible for this anymore. If any of your fathers have an issue with that, they can call me, and I’ll explain to them how one of you labeled the bladder as a uterus on a male body, and the other one has the self-restraint of a toddler.”

  Klay grabs his backpack, quickly leaving the room. Ethan gives me a nervous smile.

  “I wasn’t laughing at you,” he says.

  I zip up my backpack and follow Klay’s lead. I focus on my feet as I walk, so I don’t have to remember how I felt when I watched Klay try to kill Roman. I don’t have to think about how much I thought Roman deserved it and whether or not I would have let Klay finish killing him. I shouldn’t feel that way. There are far worse monsters out there.

  And Klay may be one of them.

  24

  Klay

  Roman’s neck is ringed with red. He’s glaring at me, but it’s barely noticeable when his neck resembles a rooster’s wattle.

  I regret my actions. I don’t regret his pain.

  One chair away from me, Sadie is sitting, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes staring down at her knees. As far as I know, this is her first time being sent to the principal’s office. It’s also likely the first time she’s seen someone legitimately strangled.

  When Roman moves abruptly, I sit up, my fists tightening. He sneers at me and pulls out his cell phone. He taps on the screen and brings it up to his ear. I continue watching him as he picks at the wood of the chair’s armrest.

  “Hey, Dad,” he says, his voice still hoarse. I can’t say it makes me unhappy. “There was a situation. I’m in the principal’s office. The surgeon’s prodigy tried to kill me. I know. I’m fine. I know. Cool. Just get me out of this. Please. Thank you.”

  After listening to something his father says, he lowers his phone, tapping on the screen once. His finger scrolls through another screen. I look over at Sadie. She’s wearing the Marshall High sweater that Ethan gave her with her jeans. The sweater is a little small on her, so while she’s leaning away from me, half an inch of her waist is visible, along with a faint finger bruise. It’s my mark from Saturday.

  Other men give bouquets. It’s fitting that I leave bruises.

  The secretary’s phone rings. While the secretary answers it, I feel Roman’s eyes on me. I turn back to him. His gaze doesn’t move off of me during the whole phone call. He’s a lot braver when he knows his daddy is coming to save him. As long as his rage is on me and not Sadie, it’s simply survival of the fittest.

  “Mr. Shaw,” the secretary calls out. “You can go. Your father wants you to return home.”

  He still doesn’t look away from me as he swings his backpack over his shoulder. He walks over to me, stooping over, so we’re almost eye-to-eye. His breath smells like salami.

  “Just to clear up any doubts you might have, our alliance is over,” he says. “You’re going to regret ever coming after me, you pansy bitch. I’m going to do everything in my power to ruin your life. Not just during this Hunt, but in every possible way. This is abou
t far more than that now. I am going to turn your life into a shit stain.”

  I smirk up at him. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  He stalks out of the room, slamming the door shut as he goes. Sadie flinches from the noise. I look over at her.

  “I’m surprised your boyfriend isn’t coming down here to rescue you,” I mention. “Ethan has enough money to pay off twenty principals.”

  “You sound jealous,” she says. She’s picking at a hangnail.

  “No,” I say. “I’m just baffled about the whole situation. Ethan is a spoiled little boy, who can’t see past his own ego. He’s a malignancy. He’ll metastasize through the rest of your life and destroy everything you’ve worked so hard for.”

  “That sounds more like you,” she says. She sits up, but she doesn’t look at me.

  “That’s a fair assessment,” I concede. “But if that’s your preference when it comes to men, I dodged a bullet.”

  She whips around, her arm hitting against the chair’s armrest.

  “You are such an asshole,” she accuses. “Ethan has been twice the man that you could ever be.”

  “Ethan isn’t even a man,” I say. “If you think that, you’re more delusional than I thought.”

  She throws up her arms. “God, you’re all so fucking full of yourself. You, Roman, and, yes, even Ethan a little bit. I’m just tired of all of you treating me like a pawn piece you’re fighting over. It’s not even like any of you want me. You just want to stroke your own egos. You’re all impossible. Roman and Ethan, I could understand because they’re so rich, they’ve lived their lives thinking they can get whatever they want. But you just want to act like a savior when all you really want is to be seen as some grand hero. You think I’m some weak woman who’s just going to get on my knees and suck you—”