The Shortest Distance Between Love & Hate

by Sandy Hall

  Henry: PAISLEY. PLEASE. I just want to make a point.

  Paisley: I don’t like this hypothetical and I will not entertain it.

  Henry: BUT IT COULD HAPPEN.

  Paisley: NO. NEVER. I WILL NOT ALLOW IT.

  Henry: Are you done now? Are you ready to listen?

  Paisley: Okay. Fine. I’ll stop now.

  Henry: I’m just saying that I don’t think the person that will come between us is Carter Schmitt. Like, I don’t think he has that kind of force in our lives. I don’t believe it for a second. Just do it, Paisley. Rip off the Band-Aid. All this hemming and hawing about what it will do to our relationship is an excuse at this point. Because it’s not about Carter or me or anyone else. It’s about you.

  Paisley: Those are a lot of words, Henry.

  Henry: I mean every one of them.

  Paisley: You can’t see me nodding, but I am.

  Henry: Just do it, Paisley. Make your move.

  Paisley: What if he’s not worth it?

  Henry: There’s only one way to find out.

  Paisley: I hate it when you’re right.

  Henry: You must hate me a majority of the time.

  Paisley: Only when you’re also smug about being right.

  Henry: So, quite often.

  Paisley: Maybe you feel like telling me about what you and Carter talked about in the hallway last night?

  Henry: Nah.

  Paisley: Dammit, Henry.

  -CARTER-

  I had really hoped to hear from Paisley last night, but nothing. No word from her. I know the ball is in my court and all that, but I feel like I could foul out of the game if I’m not careful.

  I can’t stop thinking about her T-shirt from a few months ago that said “Let the games begin.”

  Also, I need to stop playing basketball with Ray because I only think in sports metaphors for days after and wind up annoying myself.

  I solemnly swear that if I don’t hear from her tonight, that I’ll text her tomorrow. Even though we have three classes together tomorrow. And even though what I really want to do is take her on a date and I don’t know how to accomplish that.

  In the morning, I go through the motions of opening the gym. I’m on this morning with Jordan, which is fine, but I wish it were Paisley. We need to talk. And we get our best talking done early in the morning. Or maybe not our “best” talking, but definitely our most real talking. All bets are off when we’re talking before dawn.

  When the gym opens at six thirty, there’s the usual small rush of people who wander in to use the machines or the weights or the pool on their way to work.

  Instead of doing homework, I decide to jot down ideas for dates. I start the list with dinner, movie, the generic stuff. I want to think of something better. Something exciting. Easier said than done.

  But then, as if I summoned her with my thoughts, she’s standing in front of me, holding out a cup of coffee.

  “Bless you,” I say.

  “I didn’t sneeze,” she says.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Jokes are really hard to make this early in the morning,” she says.

  “How come you’re not on the schedule?” I ask, taking the paper cup from her. She obviously trekked to the student center for this, going that extra mile.

  “I’m honestly not sure.” She peers at the schedule behind the desk. “I’m on for the rest of the week at six, though.”

  “Well, at least I’ll be here with you tomorrow, but I have off the rest of the week after that.”

  “Lucky you,” she says. “Who’s on with you this morning?”

  “Jordan,” I say.

  She slides into the seat next to me. Jordan’s office door is closed at the moment, and the light next to her extension is on. We have a few minutes at least.

  “Who does she even talk to on the phone at seven o’clock in the morning?” I ask.

  “Her mom. Her priest. Her psychic,” Paisley says.

  I snort into my coffee.

  “First of all, how’s your mom?”

  I grin. “She’s good. All the tests came back negative, or positive, or however we wanted them to come back. All good news.”

  “That’s awesome,” she says.

  We nod at each other.

  “So, what do you say?” she asks.

  “About what?” I feel like I missed something, like I took a micro-nap and missed the subject change.

  “Oh, come on,” she says, spinning in the chair. “Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?’

  “It’s so early in the morning the sun is barely awake, and you expect me to know what you’re talking about? I can’t play games this early.”

  “You’re doing a good job of pretending to be obtuse.”

  She puts the toe of her sneaker down as a brake to stop spinning and looks at me.

  I smirk.

  She smirks right back.

  She might have the best smirk that I have ever seen. She probably practices it in the mirror. That seems like something Paisley would do, just to get the right vibe going. To put exactly what she wants out in the world.

  “What do you think?” I ask.

  “About you being obtuse? It’s annoying sometimes. Sometimes it’s cute, kind of like a puppy.”

  “I was once likened to a golden retriever puppy by my history teacher in ninth grade. I could never quite shake the idea. I think it’s pretty apt.”

  “But I don’t know what to think. In general,” she says, spinning again.

  “Do you think you want to, I don’t know, go on a date with me or something?”

  She spins toward me and smirks again. This is the smirkiest conversation I have ever had. Like, what are we both so smirky about?

  She moves her chair closer to mine, so that our knees touch. The light is still on at Jordan’s extension, and I feel like something is about the happen.

  She puts her hands on the arms of my chair and looks me full in the face. It’s a lot of eye contact for so early. And I have coffee breath.

  But she knows that. She’s the one who brought me the coffee.

  “Why are we playing eye contact chicken while I have coffee breath?” I ask.

  This time I get a genuine smile, nothing like a smirk. A smile so bold and bright it could shame the sun. I’ve never seen an expression like that on Paisley’s face before. She always seems like so many shades of cool, and aloof, and above it all.

  But right now she isn’t.

  Right now, she’s here with me. Being not cool, and not aloof, and not above it all.

  “I don’t know,” she says. I know she’s about to say more. I know something is supposed to happen. But then Jordan’s extension goes dark and Paisley notices.

  “That’s my cue to leave, but I’ll see you later, right?”

  I nod and she’s gone, but I know something is finally happening.

  -PAISLEY-

  It’s Friday night, and Ray and Carter are having everyone over to play video games. And by everyone, I mean a couple of guys from the trivia team and me. I asked Stef if she wanted to come along, but remarkably she did not think this sounded like a great Friday night.

  Someone brought some beer but I’m staying away from the stuff. It makes me gassy. I don’t need to be gassy. I just want to sit next to Carter and hang out and make jokes. When did I become this person?

  I go out to use the restroom, but when I get back, Carter is standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

  “I thought maybe we could take a walk or something.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, the guys decided to have a fart contest, and now it smells so bad in there. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”

  “My poor cell phone,” I say, holding out my hand as if I could reach through the wall for it.

  “I’ll save it,” he says. Before I can stop him, he’s pulled his T-shirt up over his nose and slid back inside.

  When he comes out with my phone, I
clasp my hands together and say, “My hero.”

  “I do what I can, ma’am,” he says in a deep voice.

  He runs a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. I want to put my hands in his hair.

  “So, a walk?” he says.

  It’s raining and cold out. I don’t want to take a walk. But there’s something I really want to do, and I don’t know how to get from here, standing next to each other, to there. There being kissing.

  “I think I’ll let you make out with me again.” I decide to go with the direct approach.

  “You’ll let me?”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  “So kind. So generous.”

  I stand on my tiptoes to reach his mouth and it’s immediately perfect. It’s everything I dreamed of since that night in the basement when we first made out. I let my fingers dance along the hairline at the back of his neck, and his arm comes around my waist. I forgot just how strong he feels. I made myself forget. I didn’t want to think about it, about him, about his lips.

  We stay in the hallway for a long time. I’m not even sure how long. Not really. I think a few people pass us, at least one because we get a wolf whistle.

  By that point, I’m basically trying to become one with Carter, pushing him up against the wall, wanting to get as close to him as possible. I can’t help it.

  Apparently, a sexual animal has lived inside of me all this time. It only took Carter to bring it out.

  A head peeks out of the room.

  Someone clears their throat.

  “Oh, there you are,” Ray says. “So this is a thing now, huh?”

  Ray seems only a little surprised, unless he’s really good at keeping a poker face.

  “Yup,” Carter says, his voice breathy but his lips never leave mine.

  “Are you guys ever coming back in?” Ray asks. “Or do you live in this hallway now?”

  “Live in the hallway,” Carter says without stopping kissing.

  “Do you two hallway dwellers want anything from the pizza place?”

  I pull away from Carter’s lips and I swear I hear a small pop.

  I feel much colder immediately.

  “Yes. I want cheese fries,” I say. Cheese fries and kissing Carter, I’m not sure I could ever imagine a better night.

  “I’ll have a slice of whatever you’re getting,” Carter says.

  “All right. Cool.”

  He closes the door. We hear him say to the room, “They’re out there making out. But they do have requests.”

  I nuzzle my nose into Carter’s chin, inhaling, and happy to find that he doesn’t smell like beer tonight.

  “You smell really amazing.”

  “I have no idea why. I literally use generic bodywash.”

  “Well, it’s good-smelling generic bodywash,” I say.

  “We might as well keep making out until the food comes, right?” he asks.

  “Of course.”

  So we get back to it.

  Except that doesn’t last long. When Ray goes to get the pizza, he comes back and says, “Paisley, I think your roommate is crying in the lobby.”

  “What? Why?”

  Ray shrugs.

  “Um, I better go check what that’s about,” I say. Carter tries to follow me but I stop him. “I think it’s best if I go alone. I’ll come back later.”

  When I get to the lobby, she spots me immediately. She’s obviously worked up.

  “Where were you?” she asks. I’ve never seen her so shaken. “I texted you and called you like eighty times.”

  “I wasn’t paying attention to my phone. I was with Carter. I told you where I was going.”

  “And I told you that I was going down the hall and not to lock the door.”

  “And I thought you said to lock the door because you were going out.”

  “I didn’t even have shoes on, Paisley!” She kicks her foot up to demonstrate the fact that she’s only wearing socks.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying very good attention. Why didn’t you come and get me?”

  She ignores my question in favor of getting more pissed off. “I really needed to get a good night’s sleep tonight because we have an exhibition meet and I have to be up at five.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m sorry I missed your calls and texts. Where’s Kenny? Couldn’t he unlock the door?”

  “He’s not around and you know there’s a fee. And I don’t have money to pay a fee.”

  “I thought it was like ten bucks?” I say.

  “I heard it was more like a hundred,” Stef says, sniffling. “And I don’t have a hundred dollars right now.”

  I rub her back. “I’m really sorry. It’s only ten thirty. You can still get some sleep.”

  I lead Stef to our room.

  “I really am sorry,” I say.

  “You’re just so wrapped up in everything that’s going on with Carter that you don’t even care about anything else.”

  I want to argue with her, but I know that she’s fighting with me for the sake of fighting with me.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeat for the third time. “I didn’t mean to lock you out.”

  “Sure, whatever,” she says. She grabs her stuff and goes into the bathroom to shower.

  Carter texts me to say that my food is waiting for me. He adds:

  Carter: You could come sleep down here.

  Paisley: Thanks for the offer, but I might as well face the music up here. Maybe I’ll come down after she’s gone to bed.

  Carter: All right, it’s up to you.

  Paisley: Keep my cheese fries warm.

  He shoots back a bunch of thumbs-up emojis.

  But Stef doesn’t say another word to me when she gets out of the shower. She turns out the lights and throws herself under the covers.

  I take that as my cue to go back down to Carter. It’s not like I need to be up at five in the morning for once. I might as well continue my evening.

  “Good luck tomorrow,” I say.

  “Thank you,” she mumbles.

  And with that I close the door behind me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  -CARTER-

  My phone rings early Sunday morning, and I curse myself for not putting it on “do not disturb.” Ray spent the night at his brother’s so at least the ringing didn’t wake him up too.

  When I answer, Thea starts talking without preamble.

  “I have to tell you something, but you’re not going to like it.” I’m so tired it takes me a minute to catch up. Paisley was over until three in the morning. I’m not entirely sure why she even bothered to go back to her room.

  “I have something to tell you that you won’t like either. But tell me yours first.”

  “Dad wants to see you,” she says.

  “How nice. Too bad that I’m very busy avoiding him.”

  “Come on, Carter.”

  “Come on where?” I roll over and hide my face in my pillow.

  “Don’t be obtuse. I’m just saying.”

  “Whatever,” I mumble into my pillow, letting my eyes close. I like it when Paisley calls me obtuse but not when Thea does. I consider hanging up on her, but she’ll just call me back. And if I don’t answer, I can totally imagine her driving down here to bother me in person.

  “I can’t hear you, Carter.”

  “I don’t have to see him if I don’t want to see him,” I say, flipping back over onto my side and sitting up.

  “It’s been years. Literally years since you saw him.”

  “I’m going to amend that statement. It’s been literally years since he saw me.”

  “Will you at least consider it?”

  “Thea, I don’t need to consider it. My answer is no.”

  “What if I told you Mom wanted you to see him?”

  “I would say why didn’t he show up sooner, like in the spring, when she was diagnosed. I’m so tired of his excuses.”

  “Is he a mind reader?” She huffs out a breath. “I didn’t te
ll him. I’m assuming you didn’t tell him she was sick. I know Mom didn’t. He wants to be around now. And he’s coming to see his parents.”

  “Oh, those people. The ones who totally stopped calling after our parents got divorced. Yeah, they don’t mean anything to me.”

  “Mom asked them to stop calling. She didn’t want to hear from them. She made that decision. Dad’s allowed to see his family. And I’m allowed to see Dad if I want. And to talk to him.”

  “I never said you couldn’t. I said that I don’t want to.” Why is this so hard for her to understand? I could ask her that, but I also just want this conversation to be over.

  “Just think about it? Don’t make any rash decisions?” she says, the pleading in her voice almost more than I can take.

  “I don’t think my feelings will change.”

  “All right. Maybe you could pretend. For me.”

  “Fine. I’ll pretend. For you.”

  “That’s a good boy.”

  “I’m rolling my eyes so hard right now,” I say. “You can’t see it. But I am.”

  She laughs. “So what did you want to tell me that I don’t want to hear?”

  I was going to tell her that things with Paisley are progressing. But I don’t feel like fighting with her anymore. “I forgot,” I lie. “I think I was dreaming.”

  -PAISLEY-

  Carter is working Monday morning and I’m not. I decide to go see him. Even though I literally saw him less than twelve hours ago.

  We kind of, sort of, spent the entire weekend making out. Luckily Stef was away at her swim meet all day Saturday and Ray spent Saturday night at his brother’s. That definitely helped.

  “Hey,” Carter says when I walk into the fitness center.

  I lean over the desk and peck him on the lips. “Who are you on with this morning?”

  “Dara,” he says, and then in an abrupt subject change, he continues on. “We should go on a date.”

  “On a what?” I ask.

  “You know, a date. Make an honest man out of me and all that.”

  “How is this my problem? I’m happy to just make out with you in and around the dorm.”

  He gestures for me to come around the side of the desk and pats his lap.