Falling for the Opposition: An New Adult Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Lola West

  “What does that mean?” I asked, turning back toward Raina.

  “It means he’s basically doing the same job as you, only for free. It’s punishment…”

  I knew Hamilton had a strict drug policy, so I finished her sentence. “… for being caught doing drugs.”

  “Right, his ‘I got doped’ charade and I imagine his daddy’s influence, saved him from expulsion and landed him with us.” Raina had no filter. It was kinda awesome. But when I looked at Drew, smiling tightly, I wondered how many people thought he lied about being doped, and I couldn’t help myself.

  “He was doped,” I said. Me standing up for him made waif-Katie quirk her head and eye me suspiciously.

  Raina smiled. “Whatever, doesn’t matter to me, not like I’m a saint.” She leaned in toward me and in a theatrical mock whisper, which neither fooled anyone nor excluded them from hearing, she said, “Honestly, I’m lovin’ that the son of a conservative senator is doing his penance at Hamilton’s den of liberal thinking. Makes me think the dean has a sense of humor. Plus, de-lish. Am I right?” She poked me in the ribs with her fingertip. My throat tightened with embarrassment and my cheeks warmed. I was not going to confirm that I was floored by Drew’s looks, no way, no how.

  “He’s alright, I guess.”

  At my comment Drew snorted, just a teeny-tiny snort, controlling a giggle I think and then the left side of his mouth lifted just a smidge. He was smirking at me. What a jerk, a pompous, adorable jerk. I hated him. Sort of.

  Raina turned to face Drew. “Honestly, as long as you do the job and don’t act hoity-toity or go all I-hate-whomevers on us, I’m thankful for the extra hands.”

  After Raina’s declarations, no one spoke for a few moments and I felt awkward. Drew was still staring at me and I wanted to scream way to be discreet, dude! But instead, I just looked at my lap.

  Katie broke the silence. “I didn’t get your name.” She signaled to Raina.

  “Jesus, sorry. I’m Raina, Drew’s peer supervisor.”

  “Well, Raina, Lua, lovely to meet you both. I’ve got to be going.” She turned, air-kissed Drew on the cheek, and then kind of like it was an afterthought, she hugged him. It was odd, cold, and not intimate, like they’d never hugged before, like they were playing that old Operation game and if their bodies touched too much, the buzzer would go off.

  Once she was gone, Raina corralled Drew and took him on what I assume was the same tour I’d been given a day earlier, leaving me at the desk to answer the phone, take messages, and attempt to direct walk-ins to the right resources. I prayed that no one would come in. I figured that I could answer the phone and take a message, but there was no way that I was prepared to answer an in-person question, and I didn’t want to go running up the stairs to find Raina because finding her meant finding Drew, and I needed a little space from this debacle.

  I decided I needed to ‘break glass in case of emergency,’ which in my case meant texting Joe.

  Me: I’m at work. Drew works here too.

  He replied faster than seemed possible.

  Joe: Say What?

  Me: Don’t kid. I’m freaking out.

  Joe: Quit.

  Me: Not an option, this is my favorite place on this campus.

  Joe: Ignore him? Juvenile, I know… But WTF?

  I didn’t respond for a second. I wondered if I could pull a kindergartener and possibly ignore Drew. I considered asking Raina to schedule us at different times, but I didn’t want to be difficult. I wanted to be available for S.A.F.E. whenever they needed me. Joe’s texting interrupted my thoughts.

  Joe: Are you still interested?

  Me: In him?

  Joe: No, in my toe cheese. Of course, in him.

  Me: No!

  Joe: Liar.

  Me: Jerk

  Joe: Maybe talk to him, set ground rules.

  Me: Like with Chrystal, cause that went so well.

  Joe: Dropout. Come home.

  Me: I love you.

  Joe: Ditto.

  Me: How’s home? How r u?

  Joe: Me, good. Home - Incestuous, cultish, boring. Same as always. Your dad’s a Debbie Downer, moping around with a big toothy grin on his face, telling everyone how proud he is of you. It’s depressing. Stop fuming (<-rolls eyes at you), home is neither incestuous nor cultish. Goddess, how many years is it going to take for you GET me? #bestfriendsaretheworst

  Me: #hashtagsintextmessagesaretheworst

  Joe: #Lickmyhashtag

  Me: #dontmakemeturnthishashtagaround

  Joe: #Ihashtagyousobad

  Me: #thanksjoe

  Joe: #anytimelover

  Two minutes texting with Joe and it was already clear to me that there wasn’t an answer, but somehow, I was smiling, and my insides felt lighter. Joe was the best. I missed him so much. I didn’t know what I was going to do about working with Drew, and I probably wasn’t going to know what to do. I had wanted to avoid him completely, but it turned out that that wasn’t an option. So I would just have to grin and bear it because I wasn’t giving up S.A.F.E., not for him, not for anyone.

  23

  Drew

  Raina walked a few feet ahead of me, pointing and describing as she went. Already, I knew she was pretty and brazen, and I liked her. Three months ago, I would have been thinking about trying to bang her. I would have taken one look at her high and mighty tits and her green curls and thought, never had a green-haired girl before, I should so hit that. I would have delighted in just how much her alternative looks and liberal politics would have aggravated the senator, making her three times more appealing. I wouldn’t have given a second thought to how my behavior would affect her. Wait, that’s not one hundred percent true. I would have known I was being a dick. In fact, inside I might have even felt a little bad that I was using her as a means to stick it to the senator, America’s consummate family man, and the fake life he manufactured for me. But on the outside, I would have been calculating.

  I would have wooed her. I would have seemed way too interested, texted her little notes that I was thinking of her or pictures that reminded me of her. When she was working, I would have stopped by unannounced to make her giggle. I’d make her feel special, and then I would fuck her selfishly, taking what she would give me, devouring her desire and feeding my own needs, to be wanted, to be powerful, to be lusted after, to be the best she ever had. I would focus on pleasing her, challenge myself, make her come three or four times before I allowed myself any pleasure. I would be tender with her. Brush her hair from her face while I was inside her, kiss her forehead after I came. Hold her, spoon her, the soft flesh of her ass pulled tight against my dick, my arm heavy around her waist, I would make her think there was something in me to give and that she had unearthed it, and then I wouldn’t call or worse I’d show up somewhere I knew she’d be with someone else, some pretty preppy thing who was clawing all over me because she wanted access to what I had. And I’d watch her, the green-haired girl or the Indian girl or the emo musician or the science geek. I’d catch her eye and smile. Because I’m an asshole. Because I am so fucking broken that I wanted other people to be broken with me.

  Looking at Raina while she gave me the tour, and thinking about Lua sitting downstairs, it dawned on me that I always associated myself with villains. I’d done terrible things. My sins weren’t countless, but there were a handful of girls at Hamilton and at my prep school that I’d treated like garbage. I’d violated their trust. I told myself that I had limits. I never took anything that wasn’t offered to me, but I manipulated them so that they willingly made the offer on false pretenses. It literally never occurred to me that I could be something else. I acted in accordance with the hatred I deserved. But I was tired of pretending that I liked taking. I was tired of seeing the look in their eyes, the hollowed-out horror of being lied to and manipulated.

  When I first came through the door, smack-dab into Lua’s startled look, it was all I could do not to drop to my knees, apologize and beg. It would ha
ve been crazy if I did. Two seconds after telling Katie that we would be better friends, that we could depend on each other and be honest with each other, and then I’m on the floor prostrate to the woman I’ve never mentioned to her or Pete, a woman who by all concerns basically owns me, even if she doesn't realize it. But honestly, it wasn’t the effect that begging for Lua’s forgiveness would have had on my life that kept me standing. It was my genuine affection for Lua. I didn’t want to be that monstrous guy any more than I already had. I didn’t want Lua hollowed out and devastated. I wanted her to know that the way I was with her wasn’t manipulation. It was real, so real that I wanted the choice to be hers. I wanted her in control. I wanted to honor her wishes.

  So I did what she asked; I didn’t speak to her. It was childish, I know. But she asked me not to speak to her and the only way I could find in my pea brain to respect her, to show her that I was listening and that I truly cared was to obey her request. I felt stupid not talking to her, but I also didn’t want to manipulate her. I wanted her to decide what our relationship would look like without my input. I hoped we could have something between us, even if it was just a casual co-worker exchange, but I was going to leave that up to her. I was unseating myself, giving her all the power because it felt like the right thing to do.

  And even though I had already decided my plan of action in regard to Lua, knowing she was in the building meant I found it hard to focus while Raina was showing me around and explaining S.A.F.E.’s mission. When she saw me, Lua looked panicked, and I pictured her, downstairs sitting at that desk, tortured, maybe whining to Joe. I could see it on her face when she found out I was going to work with her; she was not happy. I told myself that if it had been any other circumstance, I would have resigned, but I was mandated to S.A.F.E. I couldn’t change that. Honestly, even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. Despite my best intentions, a shard of shellfish remained, and I ignored that tiny voice that told me maybe I could speak to the dean and see if there was some other community service option because even if I never talked to Lua, seeing her, being around her was something I desperately needed.

  I sensed the tour was coming to an end when Raina turned to me and said, “Can I be honest?” It was a rhetorical question; she didn’t even consider pausing for me to answer. “Unlike with Lua, who was basically born and bred to do the work we do here, I feel like I need to clarify some details with you before I set you free to play with others. Are you offended by that?”

  I defaulted to a flirtatious tone without thinking about it. “Depends, if I come up short, will I still be allowed to play?”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Table that ballsy, cocky bullshit, okay?”

  “Um…” I took a deep breath, not startled but unsettled by her comment. “Okay.”

  Raina sighed and her shoulders relaxed. “Listen, I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. And I’ve made sure that others will do the same, but it’s weird for some people that you’re here. You and your father represent everything that we stand against, and so just like I asked them to show you respect off the bat, you need to earn their continued respect.”

  I nodded, affirming that I heard her. And then I said, “You know, I’m not my father.”

  “Of course, you’re not but…”

  I interrupted her. “But nothing.” I spoke softly because I didn’t want to offend or come off as aggressive. “Raina, what you know about me is what you know about a reality television star—very little.” It was a comment I had made to others before but this time it occurred to me that I wasn’t even sure what I knew about me, other than I was starting to learn that assumptions don’t hold all that much value. “I get it. I know my place. I keep my opinions to myself. I can do that here, just like everywhere else.”

  Raina looked at me disapprovingly. “No, you don’t get it.” I went to say something, and she held her hand up, clarifying that she would not allow me to interrupt her a second time. “We like opinions here, even opinions that make our skin crawl.” She punched her words at me. She was passionate without being demeaning. “I never want to silence you, Drew. I just want you to earn your place here. Take time to listen for a while before you fire off your mouth, mostly because my guess is that my crew will eat you alive. We are well practiced at the whys of our opinions.” She quirked her face at me, smiling a little, her eyes narrow and focused on me like I was a target. “Get to know us, respect us, and then let’s brawl, bi-atch.”

  I grinned. She was plucky, but not in like some belittling weird way, but in a powerful, commanding, I own this house, I dare you, kind of way.

  Clarifying her point, she added, “Just honor the experiences of the other people here. We are good at what we do, and maybe having you here will incite some open debate, which is awesome, but kindly, okay? Not cocky.”

  I wanted her to like me.

  “I got it. No cock.” I tried to keep a straight face, but I wound up giggling, and not man-laughing, but giggling, a high-pitched light little laugh with a big wide-open unreserved smile. She punched me in the arm, hard. But I could tell she was already softening to me.

  We headed back toward the stairs that would lead us to the lobby/lounge where the welcome desk was, where Lua was, and just before we got to the stairs, a tight-shouldered Raina attempted casual and asked, “Do I need to worry about you and Lua?”

  I shook my head no. I was well practiced at looking calm and hiding my true feelings, so all Raina saw was utter confidence.

  She smiled, clearly relieved. “Good. So, orientation is Saturday…”

  We clambered down the stairs, fast, side by side and in sync, the budding camaraderie and pleasantness between us apparent. I glanced down to my right just as Lua looked up. She was wearing a V-neck t-shirt and from the vantage point of the stairs, I could see her bra as if she weren’t wearing a shirt at all. The bra was white lace, the exact bra she was wearing in New York. In my mind I could feel the little nub of her nipple between my fingers. My mind slipped to the fact that I’d never felt what it was like to run my tongue across it and instantly, I was dying to taste it, to feel it pebble as I swirled my tongue in circles, exciting it to an achingly delicious peak.

  My breathing quickened and unconsciously, I lost the pace I had shared with Raina and slowed to a complete stop. I lifted my gaze from her chest to her eyes and Lua nudged me with her glare. Close your eyes, Drew, I thought, like I literally had to talk my brain through the moment. Slowly and deliberately, I took a deep but quiet breath and closed my eyes. When I reopened them, Lua had turned away and the world returned to its normal pace. It was just a moment, just enough time for Raina to realize that I stopped moving and turn to me as I began to move again; it wasn’t anything that anyone besides Lua would discern, but it was enough for me to realize that not talking to Lua might not keep me from making my feelings known.

  24

  Lua

  Drew hadn’t been back to S.A.F.E. since Raina gave him the tour, but I knew he would be at the orientation, so despite my best intentions, I cared what I looked like. I wanted him to want me. The way he looked at me from the staircase screamed desire, and even though I had no idea what I would say or how I would respond if he acted on that desire, I couldn’t help myself from wanting to encourage it. It was masochistic, but the sexual hunger in Drew’s eyes helped me feel less crazy when it came to my own feelings about him. So yeah, despite my feminism and the warning bells that I should have had going off in my head, I wanted his gaze locked on and targeting me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling up to par.

  Chrystal had clambered in at three or four in the morning, giggling and banging around. She hadn't even vaguely attempted to stay quiet or be considerate of my sleep, not that I was actually sleeping, but I looked like I was sleeping. I was in my pajamas, under the covers with my eyes closed. And yet, my rest was of no concern to crazy-Chrystal. She was drunk. She turned the lights on as soon as she came through the door, asked me if I had any water (despite my apparent state of s
leep), literally came over and shook me to wake me, and then when I opened my eyes, asked again if I had water. I said I did and expected her to then ask if she could have some, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned, sloppily bent over to grab a dirty t-shirt that she’d left on the floor by her bed, discarded her ‘party look’ for the dirty t-shirt and her underwear, got under her covers, opened her night table drawer to take out her eye mask, (yes, crazy-Chrystal sleeps in one of those block out the sun eye masks), and then she had the nerve to ask me to bring her my water.

  I hated Chrystal. Every day, I wondered what kind of life someone could have led to turn out as self-centered as Chrystal. It was unreal. She was like a cartoon, a character from a really stereotypical teen movie, the stuck-up cheerleader or the rich prissy bitch. Never in my entire life had I met a human being who was so consistently one note. She wasn’t anything like a real person, so much so that sometimes I wondered if it was all an act. But… I lived with her and she never let up. Who could endlessly pretend to be such a monstrous nightmare? We had a mini fridge; she left me a tiny corner for my sundries, and then she ate them. I did my laundry and found all her bits mixed in. She expected cleanliness, left me notes about my grime, and she’d had a rotting mug of something on her desk since before I moved in. She never said sorry. She never said good morning. She never said what’s up. She never asked me anything about myself. She just treated me like I was a nuisance or on a good day, I was that girl she lived with whose water she could demand at three a.m.-ish.

  Rather than listen to her curse and grumble, I’d been the weakling who got out of bed to get her the water. I hadn’t fallen back to sleep after she woke me, and I was pissed. So even though she wasn’t stirring at all, I was passive-aggressively making as much noise as possible as I attempted to pull off an outfit that said, I’m so naturally lovely and casual that I didn’t even have to try to look this amazing. So far, I’d had on two different pairs of jeans, and like fifteen tops, or rather so far, I’d tried on everything I owned, and nothing felt right. I wanted to look like I’d looked in New York and at Bonnaroo, flirty and feminine, but still me, the girl that grew up on the hippie commune, and instead, in everything I put on, I looked like I was trying too hard.