I Hate You, I Love You

by Bailey B

  It’s goddamn terrifying.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

  The corner of her lip lifts into a sad smile as she shakes her head.

  This close, it would be too easy to kiss her. To dip my head and finally taste those lips. Normally I’d take advantage of her bruised heart, relish in the spoils of being a rebound. We’d have our fun then go our separate ways. There's never any forethought or after thought with girls.

  I’ve thought a lot about Danika.

  I want more than a one night fun fuck with her.

  So.

  Much.

  More.

  “Want to get out of here?”

  “I guess we should. After all, Mr. Scratchems is sick.” She smiles again, this time it’s warm and appreciative. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Jake’s having another party tonight. Or we could go back to my house and watch a movie.”

  Danika sighs. She touches my chest, eyes intently watching as her fingers run down my shirt to my belly button. I shudder and drop my hands to her waist, unsure of what she wants from me. This girl has given me nothing but mixed signals and I don’t want to fuck it up.

  She drops her head back against the passenger window and looks up to the night sky again. “Neither. I have a better idea.”

  19

  Danika

  The asphalt is rough under my bare feet, but I don’t complain. It was my idea to leave our shoes in Logan’s car and go for a walk on the beach. Yes. I’m making this gorgeous, stubborn man go for a long walk under a full moon.

  I’m a glutton for punishment.

  We cross back through the hotel lobby doors, earning a curious glance from the concierge lady. Logan winks and flashes his signature crooked smile. The woman behind the counter can’t be older than twenty-something and turns redder than a fire engine. She looks down at her computer, sneaking obvious glances as Logan holds the door to the pool deck for me. I shake my head, grinning from ear to ear. “Please tell me I don’t look like the lady from the lobby.”

  “Nah.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’re way prettier.”

  “Way to lay it on thick.”

  He smirks and lights the cigarette that's been hanging from his lips. He takes a drag, looking up at the sky on the exhale. The night is beautiful. Clear. Warm but with a comfortable breeze. One for the storybooks.

  “I hate that you smoke.”

  “Really?” he asks, his dark hair reflecting in the moonlight.

  I nod giving no further explanation. I know lung cancer and lymphoma are two completely different things, but cancer is cancer. My mom lived a healthy life. Exercised regularly. Ate all of her fruits and vegetables. Avoided meat products. Only had one glass of wine a night, if that. She had a perfect bill of health when it took over. Logan’s purposefully putting a carcinogen in his body. He’s asking for Death to come knocking. I can’t sit back and watch someone I care about die again.

  “Okay.” Logan takes one last drag then snuffs out his cancer stick in a nearby ashtray. He exhales a cloud of smoke through his full lips and says, “I’m done.”

  I look at him skeptically. “What do you mean you’re done?”

  He leans his elbows against the rail that separates the beach from the hotel. The same rail I found him sitting on a half an hour ago. “I quit.”

  “No one just up and quits smoking.” I lean against it too, looking at the rolling quilt of black that kisses an equally dark horizon. “They use patches, and gum, and wean themselves.”

  “I only smoke to silence my thoughts.” Logan shifts. I feel his gaze on my body, making my skin heat. He watches me, quiet as the night sky, while I take in the view. “Everything’s not so loud when you’re around.”

  I bite my lip, my gaze trailing the rolling tide. A picture perfect moment for a picture perfect ending. I have to be dreaming. Real life doesn’t have moments like this, they’re saved for movies and romance novels.

  Logan grabs my elbow and takes a step closer. His hand, fire against my skin, sends a shiver rippling through me. We both know I’m not cold. “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Oh, yeah? And what might that be?”

  He tucks the hair dancing across my face behind my ear, leaving a trail of electric tingles in his wake. “Promise me we’ll go to prom together.”

  “Logan.” I sigh, looking back out at the water. I can’t get my hopes up that someone like him will still be interested in someone like me then. The way I’m feeling, if I put all my eggs in that basket, I’ll be ruined. “How do you know you’ll even want to be my date? That’s like, five months from now.”

  “I went to homecoming for you, Danika. I want to go to prom with you. Please.” Logan’s big brown eyes twist my insides in the best of ways. I nod, not trusting my words and he smiles. A true, genuine smile. “Good. Now how’s about that walk.”

  The sand is cold under my toes. I didn’t expect it to make me shiver. Logan, of course, notices and unbuttons his long sleeve shirt, draping it over me. I slip my arms through and am blanketed with his scent. It’s heavenly, sending me sky high into euphoria.

  Feeling the weight of his stare, I bite my lip and look down at the shells reflecting under the stars. “I didn't picture you for an undershirt kind of guy.”

  Logan shrugs staring out into the darkness. A comfortable silence falls between us as the roar of the waves meet the sand. For the first time, my thoughts are hushed and I’m able to enjoy our time together. I don’t know how long we’ve been walking when he says, “Tell me about California.”

  I pull the sleeves of his shirt tight against me and hug myself. “There’s not much to tell. We went there. Mom died. We came back.”

  I don’t like to think about California, let alone talk about it. With the exception of a few beautiful memories, I try to block that time out of my mind completely.

  Logan stops walking and grasps my arm. He pulls me into him, enveloping me in a hug. I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my nose in his chest. His heart’s racing, almost as fast as mine. “Was it that bad?”

  I nod, fighting tears. It’s hard not to cry when I think about mom. She suffered so much. Especially at the end and there was nothing I could do to help. Logan kisses the crown of my head. “Can’t start with the easy questions, can you?” I ask, my voice cracking.

  Mom’s struggles aside, last year truly was terrible. We moved to a house within walking distance of the hospital. Dad wanted us close, in case anything were to happen to mom. He wanted us to spend as much time together as possible, even going as far as getting a job in the Emergency Room there. The house was...okay, but the neighborhood was a shit hole. Last year alone there were six drive-by shootings, eight drug busts, and two pedophile stings.

  My high school wasn’t any better. It was overcrowded, with not nearly enough resources. The teachers were tired. The kids were vicious. And I was the preppy Florida girl with a target on my back. I learned to fight out of necessity because the weak don’t survive. Sophomore year was okay. People realized I wasn’t a pushover and more or less left me alone. But junior year was the worst. Mom died. My boyfriend photoshopped my head on a naked body and spread the pictures around school because I wouldn’t sleep with him. My friends abandoned me and I was slut shamed the rest of the year.

  It sucked.

  I was struggling enough without my mom, but to lose my friends. My boyfriend. My reputation to protect me. It was too much.

  I lost the will to fight those last few months, which only made the bullying worse.

  My body trembles in Logan’s arms. Tears uncontrollably flowing out of me. He rubs my back with soothing a “shhh.'' It's been a long time since I’ve ugly cried like this. I didn’t realize how much I was holding in. It feels good to let it all out. I exhale a shaking breath and smirk up at him.

  Piano keys start playing from Logan’s phone. He whispers, “Dance with me.”

  Not waiting for my res
ponse, or for me to ask how he started the music, we sway under the moonlight. Logan holds me tight against his chest. When the chorus starts, he pushes me back, his hand in mine, and spins me round before pulling me in again. He keeps my hand in his, and wraps the other around my waist, leading me with big steps around the sand in a horrible version of a waltz or tango or some fancy dance.

  I look up to the sky, my self-pity tears turned to leaking laughter. Logan pushes me back again, spinning me as I trip over my feet, then pulling me in for a clumsy dip. The dude in the song sings the chorus again with what sounds like an actual church choir and Logan stills. He cups my cheeks, fingertips tucked into my hair, and tilts my head to look up at him. “I’m sorry for every moment before this one.”

  I shrug because what do I say to that? I forgive you? You can’t forgive someone you were never mad at. “That was a beautiful song. What was it?”

  A smile tugs at Logan’s lips. “It’s called Because of You.”

  “I didn’t peg you for a pop music kind of guy.”

  “Can’t help what songs speak to the soul.”

  My lips fall open a fraction of an inch, catching Logan's attention. He averts his gaze, staring out at the horizon, releasing a heavy breath. Silence falls between us again. This time isn’t as comfortable as before but it’s not entirely uncomfortable either. It feels like there’s more to be said, but not tonight. I yawn involuntarily and Logan’s grin stretches even wider.

  “Let’s get you home.”

  20

  Danika

  Unknown number: Come over.

  I close my spiral notebook inside my Biology textbook and lean onto my side to grab my phone off the nightstand. I pause the music playing from my iTunes app and stare at the screen. I haven’t given my number to anyone besides Sarah since moving back, not even Gunner and can’t for the life of me figure out who this is. I hope it’s not written on a bathroom stall somewhere.

  Me: No

  Unknown number: Why not?

  Me: Because I don’t make a habit of going to people’s houses I don’t know.

  Unknown Number: My bad. It’s Logan

  Interesting. We’ve hit the texting stage. I guess that means I can officially call us friends now. Not that I had any doubts we were.

  Me: Still a no.

  My phone dings again, almost instantly. Instead of a verbal protest, Logan sends a Gif of Bugs Bunny with big pouty eyes, ears down, tears rolling off his cheeks. I roll my eyes and toss my phone on my pillow beside me. I need a few more hours to myself or I’ll never pass tomorrow’s test. No sooner than I’ve flipped my textbook open again, another text comes through.

  Logan: I’ve got pizza.

  So persistent.

  Me: I don’t eat cheese. Sorry.

  Logan: You’ll eat this one. I made it. Everything is vegan. Down to the crust.

  I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and shake my head, heat climbing my neck. He made me a pizza? I guess a short break won’t kill me. If I go over to Logan’s now instead of after dinner, I might actually get a full night’s rest. Our late night movie marathons this week are seriously cutting into my beauty sleep.

  Me: How did you even get my number?

  Logan: I bribed Sarah with naked pictures of Cooper.

  I bust out laughing and lean back against the headboard. I knew Sarah had a crush on Cooper in middle school. Didn’t realize she still had one.

  Me: You’re disgusting.

  Logan: Come on, Dani. It’s getting cold.

  Me: Fine. Give me a minute.

  Logan’s standing on the front porch waiting for me as I cross the grass from our yard into his. I run my hands down my faded skinny jeans. I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s just Logan. I didn’t need to spend ten minutes finding the perfect outfit and then five minutes in the bathroom fixing my hair. But I want to look good for him.

  Logan reaches for my hand and pulls me into a bear hug. You’d think we haven’t seen each other all week by the way he’s acting, but that’s not the case.

  Gunner hasn’t been to school the past few days, which means I haven’t had the opportunity to formally break up with him. Tad says he’s home with strep throat. Rachel says mono, which is probably closer to the truth since Melody has been out sick too. So, while he’s been out, I’ve played the dutiful girlfriend.

  Sitting at their lunch table.

  Smiling and nodding when people ask if I’ve been to check on Gunner or if I miss him.

  Buying my time until tomorrow night’s game.

  Gunner may be a dick for taking a bet out on me, but he needs a real break up. Not rumors about Logan and I getting together behind his back. They have enough beef and I don’t plan on adding to it.

  Logan, of course, is not happy, but says he understands. More so because those rumors will hurt my reputation more than Gunner’s. So, Logan has sat with Cooper and Piper every day this week. Skipped the classes we have together. And overall acted like I didn't exist in the hallways.

  Just like before.

  After school, though, is a completely different story. We’ve fallen into a routine, simply out of happenstance. I do my homework while Logan is at practice, cook dinner for dad even though he’s been working a swing shift this week and I never know when he’s coming home, and then when I can’t stand to be away any longer, I knock on the Harris door.

  But today is different. Today my heart skips a little faster, beats a little harder, because Logan sought me out. I’m one-hundred percent sure I’m making more out of this than it is. Piper and Cooper are working tonight, Mrs. Harris is out. Logan is probably just bored and lonely and knew I’d be coming over at some point anyway.

  Try telling my heart this.

  I pull back from our hug that’s teetering on uncomfortably long for two people who are supposed to be just friends, but Logan pulls me tighter against his chest for a second then let’s go.

  “Come on.” He rethreads his fingers with mine and pulls me into the house. I close the door behind me and let him lead us into the kitchen. Where he pulls out a chair at the table for me, then scoots me in once I’m seated. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  When I don’t immediately answer, he reaches for a glass from the cabinet and fills it with ice water, then sets it on the table in front of me. I stare at this cup, utterly confused. “Uh, Logan?”

  “What’s up?” he asks, placing two slices of pizza on a paper plate. It looks amazing, all the peppers, onions, and mushrooms layered over a pesto sauce. My stomach growls, almost silencing my thoughts.

  Almost.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” He grins. “Why?”

  “You’re being chivalrous. Are you feeling okay?”

  Logan laughs and sets the plate in front of me. “I’m perfect.” He pauses to take a bite of his pizza, smiling against it. “Are you coming to tomorrow night’s game?”

  “Of course.”

  He nods, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Are you gonna break up with Gunner before?”

  Ah. I understand now. This is bribery. He thinks a good meal will sway me to stay strong when Gunner returns to school tomorrow. Logan never had anything to worry about, but it’s fun making him sweat. I roll my eyes. “Probably.”

  I close my eyes, listening to Logan’s heart thrumming wildly despite his slow, steady breaths. Pretty sure if it were a race, our hearts would tie for first because mine’s beating just as fast. My finger paints an invisible squiggly line on his chest, above his shirt. I look up at his perfect face, admiring the strong curves of his jaw and how long his lashes are. I smile knowing he can’t see me with his eyes closed and move my squiggly line further down his chest to the top of his abs then back up his sternum. “I have a question.”

  “Ask away.” His voice vibrates through his chest, sounding even deeper than it normally does.

  “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

  Logan’s body shakes with a silent lau
gh, rocking me on top of him. “Define girlfriend.”

  There’s no way Melody is his only girlfriend. She doesn’t even count! I push up onto my arm and look down at him. “How is that possible?”

  He tucks my hair behind my ear and smiles up at me. I love when he does that. “I never wanted one. I could get the benefits without the commitment. I didn’t see the point.”

  I slide back down, resting my head on the pillow this time instead of his chest. “That’s gross. I don’t even want to think about how many girls' you’ve been with.”

  Logan shifts upward. He tucks his knuckle under my chin and turns me to look at him. “I can tell you I’ve never done this with anyone.”

  “What? Talk?”

  My mind starts running, flickering a stream of faceless girls in compromising positions before my eyes. Logan huffs through his nose, a shadow falling across his face. He tucks his hands behind his head and stares at the TV. “I talked plenty as a kid. It just took too damn long for anyone to listen.”

  That’s a loaded statement. Probably tied to the mystery secret he thought I knew. The more I think about it, the more his words ripple through me. The hurt hidden behind them echoes in the room. “What happened, Logan?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing. What I meant was, I’ve never let a girl in my bed before. I’ve never laid beside them and not made a move. Those girls may have had my body but you’ve got something more.”

  “What’s that?” My pulse races so fast it’s teetering on the edge of a heart attack. Please say heart; tell me you love me because my feelings for you are so intense, I don’t know what else they could be.

  “Doesn't matter. You're not ready for it.” He puts an arm around me and pulls me back onto his chest.

  21

  Danika

  I didn’t mean to fall asleep in Logan’s bed, it just happened. One minute we’re watching a documentary on HBO about McDonald’s and the next thing I know Logan’s alarm is going off. It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months, but I know if Dad catches me, he’s going to be pissed.