Love the One You Hate

by Grey, R. S.

  “I sound like a real prick,” I agree as we turn the corner. “My car’s a few blocks that way.”

  More than ever, I wish I’d been able to secure a parking spot closer to the bar. Tori and Maren aren’t stumbling drunk, just tipsy enough that they’re prone to wander. Every shop we pass seems to catch Tori’s attention. “Oooh, I love the way they styled that bookshelf! Do you think they’d let me buy that lamp?”

  I double back to prod her along. “Sure. Why don’t you come back in the morning and ask?”

  “Good idea.”

  Maren walks behind us with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. There’s no cooling off between the bar and my car. When I open the passenger door and hold it for her, she huffs something under her breath and climbs into the back.

  Tori slides into the front seat and shoots me an angelic smile. “Nicky, you’re a lifesaver.”

  “To be clear, I never asked to have my life saved,” Maren says in a disgruntled tone. “I was having a perfectly good time with Barrett at the bar.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he loved hearing you groan about Nicholas all evening,” Tori replies, and I can’t help but smirk at that—though it fades quickly when Tori continues, “You are aware that you agreed to be his date to that gala next weekend, right?”

  “What?!” Maren asks in shock. Then she catches sight of my face and tightens her arms across her chest in defiance. “Oh, yes. Sure. I’m excited.”

  I slam the door and round the back of the car to take my seat, wondering if her words are even partly true. I start my engine and study her for a moment in the rearview mirror, but when she catches me, she throws up her eyebrows and prods me to get going. “Did you yank me out of that bar just to keep me here all night?”

  Tori laughs under her breath, and I tell myself to focus on driving.

  On the way to drop Tori off, she chats enough to cover up the fact that Maren continues stewing in the back seat. I don’t register a single thing she says, but I become aware of her absence as soon as she’s gone. After she hops out of the car and wishes us both a good night, the silence looms heavy and Maren doesn’t seem anxious to fill it.

  “Do you want to move up here?” I ask, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

  She’s made herself small in the corner of the back seat, as far away from me as possible.

  “No thank you.”

  I sigh and turn back out onto Bellevue Avenue to head toward Rosethorn. The drive only takes a few minutes and then we’re pulling into my parking space. Maren undoes her seatbelt and I’m about to get out when my hand hesitates on the door.

  “Tell me why you’re so angry with me.”

  “I’m tired,” she says stiffly. “I don’t have it in me.”

  “Maren.”

  She lets her forehead smack against the back of the passenger seat.

  “Are you going to keep me prisoner in here until I tell you?”

  The ludicrous idea makes me smile. “If I need to.”

  She doesn’t share my humor. She sighs and sits back against her seat, staring out the window.

  I turn back to face the front, unsure of what we’re doing here. If she’s not going to talk, I can’t force her to sit here all night. I glance up and watch her in the mirror again, trying to determine how close she is to giving in.

  Time passes and the silence in the car continues.

  Neither one of us moves, and the minutes stretch on. I’m about to open my door and surrender even though I don’t want to. I want to press her for the truth at all costs, but I know it’s not right. I don’t want to make her even more upset.

  Then she speaks.

  “Do you even realize how cruel you can be sometimes?” she asks me, turning her head to meet my eyes in the rearview mirror. Her words feel like a rare bird that will startle at the smallest motion. Left alone, however…what then?

  I don’t respond, and a few moments later, she continues.

  “I was so happy in Paris, so free and confident. I wanted to bring those feelings home with me, but then you arrived today and in a matter of seconds, you wiped all that confidence away.”

  “How?”

  She shakes her head. “You don’t even remember, do you?” She turns away and speaks softly, repeating my words back to me. “You’ll never be like everybody else.”

  “That was meant as a compliment, Maren.”

  “Oh really?” She grunts sarcastically. “Then I guess you don’t really know me at all. I’m a girl who’s spent her whole life feeling distinctly apart from the world around her, never truly blending in, never a part of anything. Those words weren’t a compliment to me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She leans forward, searching in vain for the mechanism she needs to pull so she can push the front seat up and out of her way. After a moment, she groans in defeat. “Please let me out of the car.”

  I don’t listen. I’m too struck by what she just said, too angry that she might not understand where I was coming from.

  “If you feel apart from the rest of us, Maren, it’s not because you can’t measure up—it’s because you float above us. You’re the most…” I frown as my sentence trails off, unsure of how to continue. “You’re so much—” I sigh, angry with my inability to articulate my feelings to her. “You’re different in the best way. Don’t you see? It was a compliment.”

  “Please,” she says, her voice close to breaking.

  I open my door without a moment’s hesitation and round the car to let her out. I pop the seat forward and hold out my hand for her to take, but she ignores it as she awkwardly climbs out of the car on her own.

  I slam the door closed and watch her walk toward the house, paralyzed by competing voices in my head. Go after her! Give her space.

  Ultimately, I let her walk away, and I hate myself for it.

  21

  Maren

  Last night comes back to me with an accompanying flood of shame when I wake up in my bed in the morning. Ordering drinks at the bar with Tori and Barrett…stewing over my hatred for Nicholas…drinking…more drinking…agreeing to be Barrett’s date for a gala next weekend…acting like a brat when Nicholas arrived at the bar…fighting with him in his car.

  To say I could have handled myself better is an understatement. I should find Nicholas immediately and apologize, but I don’t. I stay tucked beneath my comforter, staring up at the beautifully painted ceiling and praying my life will work itself out without me having to do anything.

  Maybe it’s not as bad as I’m remembering? Maybe I didn’t make a complete fool of myself?

  That luxurious thought carries me on a cloud for a few minutes, and then I remember the first thing I said to him in the bar.

  “Look who’s here! The asshole himself!”

  My cheeks are on fire as I roll over and stuff my head under my pillow.

  I have no clue what time it is.

  Time to get up, that’s for sure. Sunlight pours into my room and sounds from the house filter past my bedroom door: Louis’ bark, Cornelia’s laugh, someone’s footsteps approaching then pausing before continuing down the hall.

  I want to put off the inevitable, but I also can’t just laze around in here all day; I’m already hungry.

  I dress slowly in jeans and a white blouse. I throw my hair in a braid and creak my door open, glancing both ways down the hall. The coast is clear, so I pad on light feet down the stairs and toward the kitchen. That’s my first stop.

  “Where have you been?” Cornelia asks from behind me once I make it to the threshold.

  I leap out of my skin and whirl around to face her. “Jesus! You could have given me a heart attack.”

  She laughs. “I wasn’t the one being sneaky. I was merely turning a corner. You were the one tiptoeing around like a mouse.”

  “I was just trying to be quiet.”

  “You were trying to be silent—there’s a difference. Who are you hiding from?” she asks me with a curious smile.

/>   “No one.”

  “Nicholas?”

  I act like the idea is totally preposterous. “Why would I hide from Nicholas?”

  “Oh, just a guess. Not a very good one, apparently. Anyway, if you’re curious, he went sailing with Rhett. He’ll be gone all day.”

  I simultaneously want to jump for joy and sit down to sulk. Such is my life where Nicholas is concerned.

  “Also, a girl came looking for you earlier. When was it?” she asks herself before waving the question away. “9 or 9:30. You really have wasted the entire morning in bed.”

  “A girl? Tori?”

  “No, she was a stranger to me.” Her features pinch together in thought. “Short with very bright blonde hair. I asked if she wanted to come in and sit while I fetched you, but she said she’d just come back another day.”

  My heart drops. “Did you catch her name?”

  “She left before I could ask.”

  “Was she about my age?”

  “I think so.”

  Ariana? Is she in Newport? She knows I’m here—I’ve left messages on her phone with Rosethorn’s number and address in case she needed to reach me—but she hasn’t called me back. Why would she just show up here unannounced?

  My curiosity is piqued enough that I offer to go into town to pick up a few groceries for Chef, and on the way, I stop in at a few hotels—not the fancier ones. I can’t imagine Ariana could afford any of them, but then again, I don’t have any idea what her finances are like these days.

  At the front desks, I describe what Ariana looks like and ask the hotel staff if they know of a guest who’s currently staying there that fits that description. Some of them are willing to tell me they haven’t seen her, but most explain that they promise their patrons a certain level of privacy and they can’t disclose personal information.

  “Okay. Thanks anyway,” I tell the last one before drumming my fingers on the front desk and turning back for the door. It’s getting late and I’m not sure if Chef is waiting on any of the items I promised I’d pick up, so I give up for the day and head to the grocery store.

  Right when I get home, I check the leather-bound notebook where we take down messages in the foyer in case there’s something from Ariana. There’s one waiting for me from Tori, inviting me to go to the beach with her tomorrow, but nothing from my old friend. When I drop off the grocery bags in the kitchen, I ask Chef and Patricia if anyone has come by looking for me.

  “We haven’t had any visitors since you left,” Patricia says. “Were you expecting someone? Should I add a place setting for dinner?”

  I smile glumly and shake my head. “No, thank you.”

  I haven’t seen Ariana in a few years, and though there are times when I miss her, she’s always been such a wildcard in my life, wreaking havoc and leaving me to pick up the pieces. Still, she’s the closest thing I have to real family, so I won’t give up on her. If she’s in Newport, I hope she comes back to Rosethorn.

  * * *

  Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, and I’m relieved when Tori swings by the next day to drag me to the beach. I need to get out of my head. I need to stop thinking about the fact that Nicholas apparently didn’t get home from sailing until really late last night and was still sleeping when I went down for breakfast with Cornelia. I need to stop thinking about him, period.

  We fly down Ocean Drive in Tori’s car with the windows down. Wind whips my hair and I close my eyes, relishing feeling the sun on my face.

  We wind along the road toward a private beach club Tori’s been going to since she was a little girl. I don’t quite understand its purpose.

  “Can’t we just go to a normal beach? With normal people?”

  “It’s not about the people. It’s the fact that, for all the water surrounding Newport, there’s not all that much sandy beach access. The public spots will be so crowded by now we wouldn’t even be able to find a spot to put our stuff.”

  Well, when she puts it that way…

  The private beach actually isn’t as nice as I was expecting. There’re no real amenities other than the fence that blocks tourists from overcrowding the area and the fancy restrooms where we change into our bathing suits. There’s also a small cafe that serves burgers and fries, but we won’t need to eat there thanks to the picnic basket Chef sent me off with this morning.

  “Eat the charcuterie early. It won’t keep all day.”

  Of course, because who doesn’t take a premade charcuterie board to the beach?

  There’s fruit salad and croissants and lemon cookies too. I have enough food to feed everyone here.

  The other perk of Tori’s membership at the club is the fact that there’re already beach chairs and umbrellas, as well as rolled towels, waiting for us near the water. No schlepping lawn chairs back and forth from the car. No breaking a sweat while you set up camp for the day.

  We arrive at a secluded section of beach, set the picnic basket and the small cooler with drinks between two lawn chairs, and then I survey our spot. It’s perfect. Ten steps and we’re in the crystal blue-green water. I have my sights aimed there. My fingers are poised at the bottom of my cover-up when Tori catches my attention.

  “Hold on, let me ask that attendant to push all these chairs together,” she says, pointing to the cluster of beach chairs to our right.

  “Why?”

  “There’re some other people coming.”

  My heart drops.

  “Who? The people from your garden party?”

  Please say no.

  “Just some of the guys probably. I invited Mary Anne too, but I doubt she’ll show up.”

  I grimace and let my cover-up fall back in place. “How are things going with you two?”

  “Oh, it’s not really going at all. She hasn’t broken things off with me completely, but she’s still not convinced that I’m prepared to tell everyone the truth about who I am. I’m almost thirty—Jesus, how long can I go on pretending just to please others?”

  “What’s holding you back? You’re not…I mean, your family wouldn’t cut you off, would they?”

  “What? No. NO. It’s nothing like that. I was given control of my trust when I turned twenty-five, but even if that was a concern, I wouldn’t let it hold me back. It has more to do with tradition. Y’know, life as I know it will end. Some people are going to judge me.”

  “But why would you care about their judgments? Put yourself in Mary Anne’s shoes. You staying silent probably makes her feel like you’re ashamed to be with her.”

  “I’m not!”

  “I know that, but—”

  A beach ball comes sailing our way and lands lightly in the sand at my feet. I glance back over my shoulder to see Barrett and another guy I don’t recognize making their way toward us. Barrett shoots me a lopsided grin and a big wave.

  I haven’t seen him since Friday night, and the first thing I do after he introduces me to his friend, Max, is apologize for getting so drunk.

  “What? You were tipsy. Barely.” He jostles my shoulder. “It was fine. C’mon, don’t worry about it.”

  I smile with relief.

  “But you do remember agreeing to be my date for Friday night, right? To the gala?”

  I nod enthusiastically. “Sure. Yeah. It’ll be fun.”

  I’m tempted to put a stipulation on his invitation and clarify that we’re just going as friends, but he looks so happy when I agree and the sun is shining and the waves are calling my name. It’s summer in Newport and not everything has to be so damn hard. I can just have fun.

  I whip off my cover-up and toss it on my chair then pick up the beach ball, walking backward in the sand.

  “You coming in?”

  He grins and reaches back to tug his t-shirt off over his head. He drops it next to my cover-up and then I turn and race toward the water with him on my heels. I crash into the waves first, but then he’s there wrapping his arms around my waist, and I squeal as I try to break away from him. We both go under, and w
hen I surface again, I’m laughing so much I can’t breathe.

  We stay out in the water, tossing the ball back and forth and trying to keep it from touching the water, until I glance back to the shore and see that more people have arrived. Tori’s waving them over and I don’t want to be rude, so I reluctantly head back toward the shore, wringing the water out of my hair as I go.

  “C’mon, let’s go say hi,” I say to Barrett, and he falls in step beside me. “I’m thirsty anyway.”

  “They have good drinks here. You want something from the bar?”

  “After Friday? I’m good,” I say, tossing him a teasing glare.

  He laughs and shakes his head. “I swear you weren’t all that bad. Well, not until Nicholas got there. Speak of the devil…”

  My gut clenches and I follow his gaze to find Nicholas and Rhett talking to Tori and Max. Rhett waves excitedly as he sees us walking toward them. Nicholas does not. He narrows his eyes, glances between Barrett and me, and then turns back to Tori to ask something.

  She shrugs.

  “Hey everyone,” I say with a weak smile once we reach the group, unable to meet Nicholas’ eyes. Our argument from Friday still feels fresh, especially considering the fact that we haven’t seen each other since then.

  “Hey Maren,” Rhett says, coming over to give me a side hug.

  “Hey!” I hug him back and then step away, apologizing for getting him all wet.

  He laughs. “Well we are at the beach, right?”

  I blush and nod, propping my hands on my hips and hoping someone else will lead the conversation from here so I can sink into some quicksand.

  “Maren? Will you do my back?” Tori asks, waving a bottle of sunscreen out toward me from her perch on her beach chair.

  “Yeah, but you’ll have to return the favor. I forgot to put any on before I went in.”

  There’s shuffling as everyone begins to claim seats. Tori and I are already in the center, and Barrett’s quick to sit down on the chair beside mine, lying down and closing his eyes to dry out in the sun. Nicholas sits on the other side of Tori, dropping his bag and reaching back to take off his shirt. I watch with rapt attention, unblinking, unmoving, as he pulls it up and over his head. I saw him shirtless the morning Louis first made his appearance for everyone at Rosethorn, but not for long, and not like this. The sun beams down onto his tan muscled chest, and there’s a sprinkling of black hair leading down to his navy swim trunks.