All About You (Love & Hate series #1)

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

Present

  There is no way to pretend that I can’t see him. Oliver has his arms around a pretty blonde girl. I try to look away, but I can’t deny that I’m shocked seeing him here. The girl has massive boobs that pop out of her tank top like two swollen balloons. My eyes dart away and I wonder if I can get out of here before he notices me. His attention is on the girl for another second or so before he turns, looking at the exact spot where I’m standing right now. The panic whisks through me, and I quickly look away, already knowing that he is aware that I’m here.

  I bite my lip, contemplating if running out is an option. Now I understand that horrible feeling in my gut that has been bothering me all day. Somehow my mind projected that we could meet again, and here I’m afraid to even acknowledge him. I glance back at him, and from a distance I notice a small smile that creeps over his mouth. My heart skips a beat when he leans toward the girl and whispers something in her ear. Then they both look at me.

  I turn around in a panic to face Dora and her new beautiful companions. “We need to leave…now,” I stutter. I feel like he is tearing my body to pieces from inside out.

  “What? We just got here,” Dora says.

  “Yeah, have a drink,” adds Nicole, handing me a plastic cup with something inside that looks like beer. Louise is already chatting with a tall dark-haired student.

  “Oliver is here and he is staring at us,” I hiss, trying to push her outside, but she’s having none of it. She looks behind me, probably trying to bring his attention to me, but that’s the last thing I want. I’m thinking that Dora is ruining everything. My new plan that involves staying away from Oliver is out the window.

  “What are you talking about, India? He looks busy with that blondie over there.” She giggles.

  I turn around slowly and peer through my eyelashes. Oliver is no longer staring. His arms are wrapped around the girl’s arse and he is kissing her. My stomach drops and a wave— thick and heated with jealousy—sweeps through me like a waterfall. They aren’t kissing like a loving couple in the park afraid of being seen. Their kisses are hard, deep; I can picture their tongues swirling inside each other’s mouths. My brain is sending an alert to my body to stop looking, but I can’t. His lips are taking control of hers, and he is reaching deep down, pressing her down with his body. People are staring. Someone whistles. I instantly feel memories of Christian flashing through my mind.

  “I need a drink,” I say and rush as far away as I can from Oliver and his “girlfriend.”

  “Now you’re talking,” sings Dora, following me.

  My stomach twists into knots when I think about that evening in the cinema when we shared our first kiss.

  Past

  It was a rainy Wednesday night when I went to Christian’s house excited to see a new James Bond film. Movies were my passion, and I couldn’t miss a premiere of a brand new classic action film. I ran a blog where I posted all my reviews, and I had a decent number of followers. Christian never shared my enthusiasm for films. He had a short attention span, so he managed to sleep though most of the films that we went to. He also didn’t like sitting in a dark room watching films that he could download at home. He knew that I was obsessed, and he also knew that I would go, with or without him.

  Christian’s mother opened the door and let me inside. Her cheeks were rosy, and I noticed a half-empty glass of wine in her hand.

  “Come on in, India. You’re soaked right through,” she said, passing me a towel. Getting wet was just the part of the deal. I always used to forget an umbrella purposely. Mum caught me a few times when I was walking back from school in the rain. She used to get mad, shouting that if I got the flu she would send me ill to school. I was kind of weird like that: I liked feeling rain on my bare skin.

  Christian’s family lived in one of those large posh houses with fronted bay windows in the better part of Gargle. His father worked a lot—he was barely home—and his mother liked her drink, maybe a bit too much. She was slightly drunk when I walked through the door. Christian gave me a kiss, passing me his hoody. He was tall and well built with long dark hair. He’d played rugby since he was in primary school.

  “Are you ready to go?” I asked. “The film starts in half an hour.”

  “Yeah. Listen, do you mind if Oliver comes with us?”

  My heart started hammering in my chest when Christian mentioned his name. I felt someone’s eyes on me, so I turned around. Oliver was walking downstairs. His long black hair hung over his shoulders. He was wearing a leather jacket and black pants. He smiled and all of the sudden heat embraced my body, sending a signal to my brain that I shouldn’t be here.

  “Yes, sure,” I replied in a small voice.

  “What are we going to see?” asked Oliver, coming towards me.

  “A new Bond film. It’s got great reviews.”

  “All right, children, let’s go. The sooner we get this over with, the better,” Christian said, sending a wink to Oliver. I hated when Christian forced himself to be with me. He could just say that he didn’t want to watch the film.

  “Have fun,” his mother said, not taking her eyes off the TV.

  We left the house and jumped into Christian’s Audi. I sat in the back and put my headphones on, hoping to chill out a little with my favorite music. The cinema was only around a ten-minute drive. I avoided the premiere days, as Christian always complained about crowds. This new film that we were going to see had been out for two weeks, so we didn’t have to worry about an overcrowded screening.

  Christian was in charge of drinks and snacks while Oliver and I went to take our seats. I was excited to see the film. My formal boyfriend came back just before it started and sat next to me. Oliver was sitting on my right. For the first half hour I couldn’t concentrate on what was happening on the screen. Oliver’s arm kept brushing over mine. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it purposely or if he was just uncomfortable. My pulse was skyrocketing, and every time he touched me a violent tremor passed through my whole body. I liked Christian. He was always a perfect gentleman; up to this time he’d never pushed me to do anything that I didn’t want to do. But I never felt that spark with him that I felt whenever Oliver was around. Christian and I were together physically, but mentally my heart belonged to someone else.

  Halfway through the film, Christian was asleep. That was his routine, and it meant I could finally enjoy the movie.

  “Hey, Indi,” Oliver whispered.

  I swallowed hard, turning slowly around. I blinked twice, seeing his perfect blue eyes. His face was only a couple inches away from mine and that terrified me because my heart nearly stopped beating. The odd, unfamiliar sensation settled between my thighs.

  Oliver was looking straight through me. He brushed his thumb over my face and I shivered, wondering how far he would go. He’d never shown any interest in me, certainly never in front of Christian. He leaned towards me and his lips brushed over mine gently as if he didn’t really mean to kiss me. I was levitating with desire that suddenly rolled over my entire body.

  Then he stopped and sat back, breathing hard. I waited for him to carry on, but he just sat there staring at the film. His brother was snoring next to me, and my heart continued beating violently throughout the rest of the film.

  Present

  I close my eyes trying to erase that memory from my mind. It’s just the past. Oliver was only playing with me then like he is playing with me right now. He couldn’t know that I had any feelings for him. I kept that secret hidden away for years.

  I walk to the fridge and pick up a bottle of beer. It’s way too hot in this house, but the kitchen is spacious and there is plenty food on the table. People are chatting amongst themselves. Dora doesn’t look happy, drinking her beer and staring at half-cooked pizza. Then a group of students walks in laughing loudly.

  “Hey, Jacob,” Dora shouts, flickering her long eyelashes. She is beside him within a second. We both remember him. Jacob is the guy that threw the ball wi
th Oliver when we arrived. I already hate him and I hate that Dora decides to hit on him. I know that look on her face, plus Jacob is in her type. Tall, well built with messy blond hair.

  “Oh hey, I was wondering if you would show up.” He grins, nodding to the rest of the guys to give him some space. They start talking and soon his arm is around her.

  I can’t help but roll my eyes and carry on drinking and watching people. Dora pushes him away playfully, pretending that she is a good girl and she doesn’t get close to the blokes that she doesn’t know. We both know that’s just her game plan. Dora adores attention. Half an hour later she completely forgets that I exist. The alcohol and loud music could turn people into zombies. I know, because I used to be some of those people.

  “Come on, let’s check the garden. I want to show you something,” Jacob says, suddenly taking Dora’s hand.

  “Yeah, great,” she replies.

  “Dora, where are you going? We need to leave,” I protest, but she vanishes into the garden. It’s not uncommon for my best friend to just bail on me with a guy she just met, but this time I’m worried because Jacob might be Oliver’s best buddy.

  My skin tingles and I take a few deep breaths, wondering what to do with myself. Two Essex girls are also gone. Someone increases the volume and the music blasts, jackhammering my brain. I’m in dangerous territory. I’m scared to leave this precious spot because Oliver is somewhere out there and here I feel safe.

  A few more people walk into the kitchen. A young-looking student passes everyone brand new shot glasses straight from the box. I take one, not saying a word. It’s not long before he pours vodka for everyone and I’m forced to drink. I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of everyone else. Two years ago I partied almost every weekend with Dora and other friends, so I should be used to vodka.

  “Another one!” yells the girl, lifting her glass, so there is one more round. Somehow I manage to sneak away from the kitchen with the lame excuse that I need to find the bathroom. It’s safe to be back in the living room. Oliver is nowhere to be seen, and I don’t have to keep drinking. The music is much louder now, and Dora is still nowhere to be found. I can only hope she isn’t having sex with Jacob in the back of the house, although I wouldn’t be surprised if she is.

  The vodka leaves a disgusting taste in my mouth. My stomach makes a flip, so I hurry upstairs to find a toilet. A few drunken students push me over, and I clench my teeth hoping the nausea will pass.

  In the bathroom, I lock the door and sit on the floor for a minute or so. Luckily I don’t have to puke, but my body is drenched with sweat. It takes me a moment to pull myself together.

  I look at my reflection in the mirror, wondering if I’m ever going to feel normal again. My caramel-colored hair is all over the place, my cheeks are flushed, and my muscles are aching. I run my finger over my eyes to remove the smudges from my black eyeliner. My stomach makes an uncomfortable growl as I take a few long breaths.

  Then I hear a noise and someone enters. I lift my gaze, and in the mirror I see a familiar face. Our eyes meet and the ache in my heart starts vibrating through my bones, causing an eruption of panic. The air ceases in my lungs. I could have sworn that I locked the door when I came in, but now Oliver is here, standing in that small space with me.

  For several long moments, no one makes a move. His eyes harden on me. Only two steps divide us, and I consider screaming. The adrenaline starts pumping through my body, but I stand there immobile, wondering what he will do or say.

  A small smile creeps across his mouth as he locks the door of the bathroom.

  This is not good, not good at all.

  My mind shouts at me to start running, but I can’t move. He’s changed so much since the last time I saw him. His lean, ripped body looks thrilling, and I begin to wonder if he aimed to look like his brother. Strong, handsome, and not afraid of anyone, even me. His pupils dilate and he inhales quickly, taking a step forward.

  “Get out,” I say before he gets too close to me. My voice sounds weak, but Oliver doesn’t even acknowledge my order. He moves even closer. Soon I’m pinned to the basin, breathing like an asthmatic. His hands are on both sides and I’m at his mercy. His eyes are penetrating me, showing me that he is in charge like I once had been.

  My heart leaps in my throat, but I don’t dare to move. I’m afraid to touch him, to make a connection with his body. Christian was a monster, and Oliver is a man who desires his payback. He wants to break me, though, not caring that we were friends once before.

  “Indi, you’re going to listen to me very carefully because I won’t be repeating myself. It’s only this once, right now, that we are going to talk,” he says, almost whispering as he leans close to my face.

  I want to move away, scream, shout or do anything to get away from him, but my body doesn’t want to react. I’m holding my breath, feeling the heat embrace every small part of me. I can’t give him any response. I’m not the person that I used to be. Here I’m weak, lost, and confused.

  “You’re will go back to wherever the fuck you’ve come from. You’re going to pack. Then you will call your mother and tell her that you changed your mind about studying in Braxton. Then you will take the next bus to Gargle and stay there until you figure out what to do with your life.”

  He stops talking and waits for my reaction or response. His closeness is killing me. I’m not able to hurt him the way I used to. My demons are back, but there isn’t any hatred left within me. I poured everything out on Oliver years ago.

  I’m hanging there, taking long rigid breaths, wondering if he is serious. When his expression doesn’t change, I know that he is not joking. He wants me to leave Braxton, to stay away from his new life.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I say, almost whispering after a long moment of silence. He can say what he wants, but I won’t leave my dream behind. I worked too hard to get here. He can’t expect me to throw my hard work away just because he can’t deal with me.

  His dark eyes narrow and his body tenses. There are two possibilities of what might happen: first Oliver would insult me and leave, or second, he might find a way to make me leave one way or another. It’s my own fault that he is so angry right now. I ruined him and all the feelings that we had for each other.

  “I’m giving you a chance to leave on your own accord, Indi,” he says, smirking. “Otherwise, I won’t have a choice, and I’ll make you leave.”

  It’s as if I’m enjoying the humiliation, not being able to push him away and stand up for myself. “I told you, I’m staying no matter what you say or do,” I say through gritted teeth.

  For a split second he gives me the impression that he said enough, but then he does something unexpected. He takes a step back and drags me over to the wall, pinning me closely to his chest. I let out an uncontrolled sharp gasp when he pushes his body closer to mine, locking my last possibility of escape. His cheek is right beside my cheek, and I wonder if he is capable of hurting me, the same way I hurt him. My body turns into mush, and the desire is back swirling inside me like a windstorm. I force my breathing in and out slowly.

  “Oh, Indi,” he begins, whispering to my ear, “I can’t believe that you’re throwing your chance away. If you don’t want to stay miserable for the rest of the year, you need to leave Braxton today. I’ve tolerated you through high school, took all the insults and pranks, but now I’m a not the same person. I’ve changed. It’s your choice, but remember, if you decide to stay, I’ll be breathing down your neck, watching you. Trust me, you don’t want to be my enemy because I’ll hurt you.”

  Then, before I can even comprehend what he just said, he lets go of me and leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. For a moment or two I stand there learning how to breathe again, my chest rising and falling. My mind spins as I roll down to the floor. This isn’t happening to me. He didn’t just give me an ultimatum. Oliver doesn’t own me like his brother did. It’s been two years since Christia
n died. It’s been two years since I was freed.

  I bring my hands to my face, sobbing quietly. If I won’t comply, Oliver will make sure that I won’t last in Braxton. He always keeps his word, and I know that he wasn’t bluffing just now. I lift myself up and rinse my face. My green eyes are glazed and my cheeks are flushed.

  I drop my head down and take a deep breath considering all the options. He is already winning. The old India would never have let him take control here. She would have fought, and she would have won.

  Chapter four

  It’s just life