The Shortest Distance Between Love & Hate

by Sandy Hall

  All thanks to The Boy.

  Ah, The Boy. So cute, so silly, and he even walked Stef and me back to the dorm. Not that I believe we needed protection, but it’s nice to feel like he cared enough to leave the party. Especially since I might be in love with him.

  I shake my head because that thought is way too embarrassing. We just met. I am in lust with him. And even that might be too much. I don’t really “do” emotions.

  But we made out.

  And it was good.

  I can’t stop calling him The Boy in my head, even though I know his name is Bart. I roll it around but it doesn’t really suit him.

  “I see you smiling over there,” Stef says.

  I hadn’t even noticed she was awake. She’s sitting up in her bed, reading something on her phone. She’s not looking at me but that doesn’t keep me from blushing.

  “Are you feeling better this morning?” I ask, hoping my embarrassing thoughts aren’t written all over my face. I roll onto my side and realize that living with a roommate is going to be like a yearlong slumber party. Hopefully in a good way.

  “I am,” she says, putting down her phone and turning toward me. “I’m sorry I dragged you out of there, but I got claustrophobic. And I was so full. I definitely drank too much beer.”

  “Never apologize,” I say. “I was happy to walk home with you.”

  “But you would have been happier walking home with your mystery man.”

  “We did walk home with him. And his name is Bart.”

  She smacks her forehead. “Wow. I seriously drank too much. It wasn’t even like I felt that drunk.”

  “You were pretty drunk.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “No reason to apologize.”

  “He doesn’t seem like a Bart,” she says.

  “I know.”

  “Well, he’s a cutie no matter what his name is.”

  “I honestly can’t believe any of that happened,” I say, my mind going back to that moment over and over again. He just walked up to me and asked to kiss me. Stuff like that doesn’t happen to me. I suddenly can’t wait another second to tell my high school friends.

  I pick up my phone as Stef leaves the room to go to the bathroom.

  But as I try to compose a text to Lizzie and Madison, I feel like I don’t even know where to start. I feel so off from my usual self because of what happened last night. I feel like they won’t even recognize me. They’ll be like, “This isn’t Paisley. Who stole her phone? Paisley, blink twice if you’re in a hostage situation.” And Henry! I can’t fathom trying to explain this to Henry. Even though he’s my best friend on earth, he’ll judge me so hard.

  Instead I go for something simpler, setting myself up for later so I have somewhere to talk about The Boy. Bart, I remind myself.

  Paisley: I’ve decided we need a new group text now that we’re away from each other. A sacred group text, one where we can come together and share our most sacred thoughts.

  Madison: I concur.

  Lizzie: Seconded.

  Paisley: Motion passes.

  Madison: Do we have anything to address yet?

  Lizzie: I would like to propose that the Sacred Group Text (aka SGT) is not a place for eye rolling or disregarding of feelings.

  Madison: LIZZIE, do you feel like we eye roll and disregard your feelings?

  Lizzie: Not really. It was more of a disclaimer so I can say that I really miss my boyfriend even though he literally left for college yesterday. I’m eye rolling at myself for being like this.

  Paisley: I withhold my eye roll.

  Madison: I regard your feelings with the utmost respect.

  Lizzie: Thanks, guys.

  “So, what’s on the agenda today?” Stef asks, breezing back into the room and throwing herself down onto her bed.

  “Orientation stuff out the wazoo,” I say. I glance back at my phone, trying to justify not telling Lizzie and Madison about The Boy. The time will come soon enough, and I’ll be able to explain so much better once I get to know him better.

  “Ah yes, the wazoo. People don’t use that word nearly enough.”

  “Seriously. I guess I need to shower,” I say.

  “Yeah, same,” she says, taking a sniff at her armpit and making a face.

  I laugh.

  We shower and brush our teeth and head out to the dining hall. We have another campus tour this morning and some kind of speech from someone about something and a barbecue tonight. I’m already so over tours and speeches.

  I suppose I should enjoy it while it lasts seeing as how classes start soon enough and I have my first work-study shift in just two days.

  I was really happy when my financial aid package included work study. Apparently, all the work-study jobs mostly involve managing desks and checking IDs while you get homework done, something I definitely need.

  The only thing is, my work-study assignment ended up being the six to nine shift at the campus fitness center. That’s six to nine IN THE MORNING. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

  Stef and I eat breakfast, taking our time choosing options at the omelet station.

  “I can’t believe they have an omelet station,” I say.

  “I hope they taste as good as they smell,” she says.

  The good news is that, yes, they do taste as good as they smell. And there is no bad news at breakfast.

  -CARTER-

  I wake up to the beautiful sounds of Ray snoring.

  He came in late last night and pretty drunk but didn’t ask about where I went before he passed out.

  I check my phone and try to convince myself not to call my sister Thea. I need to check on my mom, and normally, I’d just text. But it’s too easy to hide reality in a text. I need to hear that everything is okay, not just read it.

  I go out into the hall so I don’t disturb Snoring Beauty.

  “Hey, Thea,” I say when she answers.

  “Hey there, little brother. What’s up?”

  “I’ve been at college for almost three days, and I haven’t heard from you or Mom. Therefore, I’m worried.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” she says, almost too fast.

  “How can I know that for sure?” I ask, sliding down the wall outside my door and landing hard on my butt.

  “Well, you can’t know anything for sure,” she says.

  “Where’s Mom right now?”

  “She’s out on the porch, drinking a cup of tea.”

  “It’s not too cold for her?” I remember the good old days, where it felt like my mom was always worried about me. But things change fast when your mom gets diagnosed with breast cancer. A lot of plans changed and decisions were made. We sold our house in Delaware, and the two of us moved in with Thea in New Jersey. I’d already planned to go to college in New Jersey, to go to the same university Thea did, so this worked out really well.

  “It’s not. She’s fine.”

  I sigh.

  “Was that a sigh of relief or frustration?” she asks.

  “Probably both.”

  “I understand.”

  “I need you to swear that you won’t lie to me about stuff. I need to know that I can trust you. I know Mom will never tell me if she doesn’t feel well, and I have enough guilt about being away.”

  It’s Thea’s turn to sigh. “Which is why you don’t always need to know everything. We’ve been over this, Carter. Why would I add to your guilt? When I’m here and taking care of things? Let me be the adult.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. There’s a reason you and Mom moved back here. It was so she could live with me and you could go to college. You’re only an hour away. If I need you, I promise I’ll let you know.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and lean my head against the wall. I nod. Even though I know she can’t see me.

  “Listen, Carter. I love that you care. I love that you want to know what’s happening with Mom. And I know that Mom loves that you care too. But I don’t wa
nt to bug you with every little thing. With inconsequential things.”

  “Is there anything inconsequential about cancer?”

  “No. But I need you to trust me. How can I make you trust me?”

  “Will you text me every day?”

  “Do you really want me to text you every day?”

  “I want to know that everything is fine. You can literally text me in the morning and be like, ‘She’s alive. Everything is fine.’”

  “Okay,” Thea says after a beat. “I can do that.”

  “But also, you know, tell the truth. ‘She’s alive. Things aren’t fine, but there’s no cause for concern.’”

  “How about this? I’ll text you when I get to work. Then you’ll know everything is fine. If I’m at work, that means I know she can handle being alone most of the day. Or at least until the nurse comes for her infusion at lunchtime.”

  “That seems fair,” I say, because it does.

  “You have to promise you won’t get pissed off at me if the texts wake you up every morning.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be up earlier than you will.”

  “Because you stayed up all night? I remember college, Carter. You can’t fool me. I’m not that old.”

  “No, because I got my work-study assignment and I’m going to be working the early-morning opening shift at the fitness center three days a week at six a.m.”

  “Ew. Gross.”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s a rough assignment. You should see the face I’m making right now. It’s like I smelled something bad. Even I don’t have to be at work until nine, and I have a real-life grown-up job.”

  I laugh. “I’ll think of you fondly when I’m dragging my ass out of bed at five thirty in the morning. Or maybe five forty. Or five forty-five. My dorm is pretty centrally located. I’ll have time to walk over to the fitness center and maximize my sleep. Hopefully. But no matter what, I’ll think of you fondly.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “So you absolutely promise to keep me updated?”

  “Do you absolutely promise not to get mad at spam messages?” she shoots back. She knows me too well.

  “I will text ‘STOP’ if I want them to stop.”

  “Good. So tell me. How’s everything so far? Let this twenty-four-year-old live vicariously through you.”

  “It’s good. It’s different than I expected. So far, orientation has been more like summer camp.”

  “How’s your roommate?”

  “I like him. He’s got an older brother who goes here, so that helps. He’s on the swim team, so we went to a party at his house last night. It was fun, but I don’t really know why people like beer.”

  “Not liking beer isn’t a bad thing.”

  “There’s also this girl, Paisley,” I say. Even just saying her name out loud makes me happy. “I went to middle school with her before Mom and I moved away, and I honestly can’t believe she’s here. I had such a crush on her.”

  Thea laughs. “That’s a serious coincidence. Definitely keep me posted on that.”

  “I’m not sure if anything is really going to happen there.”

  “How come?”

  Because nothing good ever happens to me, I want to say. But I don’t want to go down that road with Thea. She’ll just give me a pep talk about keeping my chin up and all that bullshit. I’m not really that much of a defeatist; I just haven’t been much of an optimist lately.

  “I don’t know,” I say after a few more seconds. “Just a vibe? I didn’t get her number. It was probably just a onetime thing.”

  “Who knows? Maybe the universe will help you out.”

  “Does the universe take requests?” I chuckle. “She didn’t even seem to remember who I was. And she called me Bart.”

  “Bart?”

  “Yeah, I think she misheard someone at the party.”

  She laughs again. “My advice? If you’re interested?”

  “Are you going to tell me to be myself?”

  “Well, normally yes. But as I recall, middle school Carter was such an asshole, so maybe be better than yourself.”

  “I could be someone else entirely. I could be Bart.”

  She laughs. “But seriously. Next time you see her, say something about how you wanted to hang out, and if you had her number, you could text her. It’s just testing the water. Very casual. If she rejects that, back off. If she doesn’t, you can move forward.”

  “That’s so smart.”

  “It’s what I’d want a guy to do in this situation.”

  “I feel like I’m cheating on my gender,” I say. “Like I’m getting secret tips.”

  “You are, Carter. You are.”

  When I finish my call with Thea, I go back in the room and Ray is awake.

  “Hey,” I say, remembering something he mentioned the other day during icebreakers with the rest of our floor mates. “Were you serious about being on the trivia team?”

  He rolls his eyes and sits up. “I’m ready. Make fun of me. Luis never holds back, so I’m prepared.”

  “I’m not going to make fun of you,” I say, sitting down on my bed. “Were you on your high school quiz team?”

  “I was,” he says. “Were you?”

  “Nah. I was busy with other stuff, but it always looked fun.”

  “I was the Jeopardy! teen tournament champion last year,” he says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I haven’t mentioned that?”

  “Um, no, definitely not,” I say. “That’s amazing!” If not also a little intimidating. Pretty sure that means Ray is a lot smarter than me. And definitely a lot more interesting.

  -PAISLEY-

  After a morning and early afternoon spent doing orientation things, and keeping my eyes peeled for Bart around every turn, Stef and I decide to go back to the dorm for some quiet time rather than going on a guided tour of the science building.

  It’s way too hot out for even one more guided tour.

  By the time we get back to our room, I’m a sweaty mess.

  “Who knew our dorm was on the opposite end of campus from the science building?” Stef asks, slightly out of breath.

  “We do,” I say. “We know that now.”

  “I’m so glad I’m not planning to major in anything sciencey.”

  We lounge on our beds and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes.

  “What am I going to do?” I ask without any type of preamble.

  “I don’t know. How do people do this?” she asks, automatically knowing exactly what I’m talking about.

  I flip onto my stomach. “I need to find him. I’m pretty sure he lives on the first floor, and everyone has their names on their doors right now. So we could just go down there and look around.”

  Stef taps her finger to her lips. “This is like Cinderella minus the glass slipper.”

  “He’s my Cinderfella,” I say with a cheesy grin.

  She shakes her head but starts to laugh anyway.

  “I must find my Cinderfella!” I say in a high-pitched falsetto.

  “Please, ma’am, have you seen this boy?” Stef whips out her phone and pulls up his picture.

  “When did you take this?” I ask, grabbing her phone and holding it close to my face, like I can glean some further information from it. Also, he might be even cuter than I thought.

  “I just got lucky at one point. The crowd parted and I got a really clear view of him. It seemed like something that you might appreciate.”

  I laugh. “Send that to me. I need to examine it. Maybe he has a tattoo of his last name somewhere on his person.”

  We spend the next several minutes examining Stef’s paparazzi photo of The Boy, but that doesn’t get us anywhere.

  My phone rings in my hand and I yelp with fright.

  “It’s just my mom,” I say.

  “I’ll go get us some brain food from the vending machine,” Stef says, leaving the room.

  “Hey, Mom,” I say, an
swering the phone.

  “Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

  I smile. “I’m excellent.”

  “Good.”

  “How are you? Are you lonely yet?”

  “Not yet, but I’m sure I will be soon.” It’s just been Mom and me for pretty much my whole life. We lived with her parents for a while, but mostly it’s been the two of us. Leaving for college was … emotional. No matter how much I hate to admit it.

  “Make sure to drink things besides beer and energy drinks.” This is her way of trying to be extra mom-ish. It’s kind of adorable.

  “When have I ever had an energy drink?”

  “I don’t know. That just seems like something kids these days would drink for pulling all-nighters or whatever.”

  “Well, the good news is that classes haven’t started yet, so I don’t have any homework or exams and therefore don’t have to pull an all-nighter.”

  “So relieved,” she says. “Anyway, I wanted to hear your voice before I knew you got busy with classes. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

  “Nah,” I say. I almost tell her about The Boy, but it feels too new, too ephemeral to talk about with my mom. I’ll tell her. Eventually. It’s the same with telling my friends from home. I’m not ready yet. “Just chatting with my roommate, Stef.”

  “You like her?”

  “I do.”

  “Are you lying?”

  “I’m not,” I say with a smile.

  “I had to ask just in case she was in the room.”

  “I understand. You’re very covert. I feel like you’ve learned a lot from all those cop shows that you watch.”

  “I really have learned so much. Someday maybe I’ll be a detective.”

  “Good luck with that,” I say. Missing her comes over me so quickly that it makes my eyes sting and my throat close. For a second, I can’t swallow.

  “Well, I won’t keep you, like I said, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  I hang up with her a minute later, and Stef comes back in the room, tossing me a bag of French Onion Sun Chips.

  “How did you know these were my favorite?” I ask.

  “I might be a little bit psychic,” Stef says. “About snack food.”

  I laugh.

  We while away the rest of the afternoon and then get ready to go to a carnival off campus. It’s not part of orientation week, but according to everyone we talked to, the whole school goes to it.