I Hate You, Fuller James

by Kelly Anne Blount

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s totally fine.” Balancing my tray, I bumped my best friend with my hip.

  “I’m glad you two are… Well, whatever you are.” He grinned.

  “Me too, Dae.” I returned the smile. “Before we head over there, serious question.” We stepped past a group of sophomores crowded around a table. “When are you seeing Jenna Marie again?” I bit my lip and grinned.

  Dae winked at me. “Wednesday after school.”

  “Ooh.” Dae didn’t normally fall for girls at the drop of a hat, but he’d been gushing about all things Jenna Marie over the weekend. I’d heard on repeat how pretty, smart, and funny she was, but I didn’t care. I was happy for my friend. Especially after his nasty breakup with Eva last year.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Dae said, rolling his eyes.

  The cafeteria was already buzzing with people, but as Dae and I changed course and headed over to Fuller’s table, it got even louder. People weren’t even being nonchalant about it. Some straight-up pointed at us.

  Ignoring the circus, Dae gently tapped my arm with his elbow. “For real, Wren. I’m happy for you and Fuller.”

  “Thanks, Dae.” I bumped his arm back with my own elbow. “I wish Brandon was, too.”

  “Maybe it’ll just take him some time to come around.” Dae shrugged.

  “True, but hopefully not too long,” I said as we approached the table. Taking a deep breath, I set my tray down next to Fuller. A few of the guys at the table glanced at us. Wide eyes, arched brows, and general looks of shock and confusion had settled across their faces. Dae took the seat directly next to me.

  “Nico, Jeremy, you guys know Wren and Dae, right?”

  Fuller must have cut them a look, as the surprise on their faces dissolved.

  “Oh, yeah. Hey, Wren. Dae,” Nico said. “What up?”

  “Not much, man,” Dae responded. “You guys ready for the game on Friday?” They were juniors and two of the best defenders on the team.

  They both nodded.

  “We are going to crush the Falcons.” Jeremy took a bite of his hamburger. A blob of ketchup hit his tray in the process.

  Fuller reached across the table and bumped fists with them. “Yeah we are.”

  He was passing AP and his math grade had gone up, too. Nothing was going to stand in the way of him taking the court Friday night, and I couldn’t be happier for him.

  “Oh, look what I picked up at the gas station this morning.” Fuller pulled a box of Nerds out of his backpack.

  I grinned. “Thanks, Fuller.”

  “Welcome.” He winked, sending tingles throughout my body. He took a bite of cooked green beans. “Dae, how did you do on that Ancient Civilizations paper?”

  “Aced it.” Dae unwrapped his grilled cheese sandwich. “How about you?”

  Fuller grinned. “Solid B. So, basically, I aced it, too.”

  He and Dae laughed.

  I was relieved but not surprised. Fuller told me that he’d been doing well in Ancient Civilizations. Everyone loved Mr. Norman. He’d been voted the school’s favorite teacher by the students five years in a row. He actually made learning history fun. Last year, he’d dressed up in chainmail in order to teach a lesson about armor worn during medieval times. That was dedication. Plus, he had a great sense of humor, including laughing when Breccan Slater, the school prankster, hid spring-loaded, life-size cutouts of Mr. Norman around the school. They were literally popping out of doors, springing out of closets, and dangling from the ceilings all over school. Well, allegedly it was Breccan Slater; he never confessed, and there wasn’t any evidence linking him to the prank, but everyone knew it was him.

  Flipping open my lunch container, I pulled out an assortment of small jars. The contents consisted of raw sugar snap peas, carrots, and a chickpea salad. I also had a small glass bowl of kimchi from Dae’s mom. My mouth watered as I opened it.

  “Looks good.” Fuller stabbed a chickpea and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm. That’s delicious.”

  “Did you steal some of my chickpea salad?” I arched an eyebrow.

  “I did, and I don’t regret it.” Fuller put his arm around my back and kissed me on the cheek.

  My body tensed up but then relaxed. Everyone in the cafeteria had probably witnessed Fuller kissing me, but who cares? We liked each other. That’s what people who liked each other did.

  Leaning against him, I took a bite of one of my snow peas. “That happens to be Gramps’s favorite recipe. Well, that and Dae’s mom’s kimchi.” I motioned to the small glass jar.

  “I’ve never had kimchi before. Can I try it?”

  “Sure.” I slid the jar over to him.

  Fuller took a bite. A moment later, his face lit up. “Now, that is one of the best tasting things I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

  “Ah, TMI, Fuller.” Nico shook his head.

  Jeremy chuckled as Fuller asked for another bite, but before I could say, “Sure,” a familiar voice interrupted us.

  “Hey, Fuller.”

  I spun around, nearly choking on my sugar snap pea. In front of me stood Marissa. She scowled before turning her attention to Fuller.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  She flipped her perfectly straight blond hair over her shoulder. “What are you wearing to the Fall Harvest Dance?”

  Fuller’s face scrunched up like he’d smelled something rotten. Then, sighing, he let his head fall to the side. “Marissa, why do you need to know what I’m wearing to a dance two weeks from now?”

  “Well, because you’re taking me, and I don’t want my dress to clash with whatever you’re wearing.” She playfully reached out and pushed his shoulder. “Obviously.”

  I recoiled. Fuller and I weren’t going out, and I didn’t even know if he considered whatever we were doing to be dating, but I hated watching Marissa putting her mitts all over him. I knew I should suck it up and ask him point-blank what was going on with us, but a small part of me was scared of the rejection that could follow. I was having fun with Fuller, and I wanted to keep it that way. Bringing up the future could ruin everything.

  “Um, Marissa, I’m not taking you to the Fall Harvest Dance.”

  Marissa’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Excuse me?”

  Fuller shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing, because I’m not going with you.”

  “We have to go together. We’re obviously going to be crowned Prince and Princess of the Fall Harvest Dance again.” She shot daggers at me. “That used to be important to you.”

  Fuller shook his head. “I took my name out of the running. And you’re wrong. That stuff just isn’t important to me anymore.”

  “Ooh,” Nico said, banging his hand on the table. “Denied!”

  Fuller slipped his arm around my back. “In fact, I haven’t done it yet, but I was going to ask Wren to be my date.”

  The air whooshed out of my lungs. Did Fuller just ask me to be his date to the dance? And did he just do it right in front of Marissa?

  Marissa glared at me and then licked her lips. “I bet you’re going to regret this, Fuller.”

  Fuller’s arm stiffened before leaving the small of my back. Why did he do that? Is something going on between him and Marissa, or is she just in my head?

  The air was thick with tension, and I wanted nothing more than to bolt, but I refused to move. I’d never give Marissa that kind of satisfaction. Plus, Fuller asked me to be his date to the dance, not her. She was just trying to get under my skin. I deserved to be here, sitting next to him and Dae. Marissa was the one who was out of line and out of place.

  Without saying another word, Marissa stomped away, her heels clattering against the linoleum floor.

  “I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of that,” Fuller said.

  My heart was still racing. “It’s not your�
�”

  The two-minute warning bell rang loudly, stopping me before I could tell Fuller that I didn’t blame him for Marissa’s actions.

  He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ve got to run to my locker and grab my books for Lit. Meet you there?”

  Wait… Did he actually ask me to the dance? He said he was going to. Should I answer before he leaves? Completely torn, I stammered, “S-Sounds good.”

  Dae looped his thumbs around his backpack straps. “I gotta jet too, or I’m going to be late. See you after school?”

  “Deal.”

  I ducked into Mrs. Brewster’s class, mentally replaying what went down at lunch as I made my way to my seat. I wished Marissa hadn’t butted in on what should have been a super romantic moment, but instead of feeling bad about myself, for the first time in five years, I genuinely just felt sorry for her.

  I glanced toward Fuller’s desk. It was still empty.

  As I turned around, Lyla caught my gaze. She looked me up and down and then scowled.

  “Problem, Lyla?”

  She must have been shocked that I called her out on her nasty look, because instead of saying something back to me, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.

  “Guess not.” Spinning around, I felt the corners of my lips twitch. Standing up to her hadn’t been that difficult, and it gave me a rush, like I’d slammed a double espresso latte.

  Fuller raced in as the final bell rang. He hurried past me but let his fingers linger on my desk for a moment. After he was in his seat, I looked down. A small piece of paper folded up into a little square sat on my desk. Sliding my hand over it, I brought it under the desk and opened it. I meant what I said in the cafeteria. Will you go to the dance with me? Fuller x

  Oh. My. Gosh.

  Fuller James officially asked me to the Fall Harvest Dance! I mean, he did before, kind of, but this cemented the fact that it was real. It took everything in my power not to squeal, the knot that had formed in my stomach over the whole Marissa thing at lunch loosening. Yes, I’d gone to school dances with guys before, but not someone I had feelings for like Fuller. Plus, no guy had ever sent me a note like this. I mean, sure, I’d had texts from guys, but never an old-school note on a piece of paper. It somehow felt extra romantic.

  I carefully folded it back up and slipped it into my backpack, sneaking a glance at Fuller in the process. I nodded and mouthed, “Yes.”

  Fuller clenched his fist and pulled his elbow back against his body like he’d dunked the winning basket. His blue eyes pierced mine, twinkling as they crinkled at the corners.

  For the second time in my academic career, I struggled to focus in class. My thoughts kept getting jumbled up in my brain. What dress would I wear? Should I wear high heels or flats? How should I do my hair? Maybe I should go get it done. Gah! I had less than two weeks to figure everything out. My hands shook with excitement as I jotted down a list of things I would need for the dance.

  After what felt like an eternity, Mrs. Brewster wrote our homework on the whiteboard, her marker squeaking the entire time.

  I finished scribbling the assignment into my planner and closed it as the bell rang. Zipping my backpack, I stood up and made my way out into the hallway. I paused and glanced over my shoulder.

  “Looking for me?” someone whispered in my ear.

  Spinning around, I came face-to-face with the guy I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  “Want to walk to study hall with me, Fall Harvest Dance date?”

  “Eh, I guess I can make space in my calendar,” I joked. “But on the way, there’s something I want to talk to you about, okay?”

  “Of course. Is everything okay?” Fuller cocked his head to the side and peered into my eyes.

  “It’s—”

  I stopped talking as a group of boys on the lacrosse team walked by us.

  Fuller paused alongside me and wove his fingers through mine. “We can talk in the library.”

  I looked down at our intertwined hands and inhaled.

  He started to pull away. “Oh, is this not okay?”

  I tugged his hand back toward me and nodded. His thumb brushed over the back of my hand, sending shivers up my arm.

  I struggled to keep my composure as we made our way down the hall.

  We walked by Benjamin, a junior on the team. He high-fived Fuller and said, “See you at practice.”

  Fuller pulled me closer. “This is really nice.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I said in agreement.

  Our shoulders bumped together as we made our way toward the library.

  “Oh, wow,” I heard from behind us.

  Fuller stopped in his tracks, tugging me backward in the process.

  Turning around, TyShaun came into view.

  “Well, if it isn’t Fuller James and Wren Carter holding hands.” TyShaun’s laughter shot through the crowded hallway. He held up two fingers and wiggled them back and forth.

  Why did he do that? My throat went dry and my stomach flip-flopped. No, don’t let him make you feel this way. “TyShaun, why don’t you mind your own business?”

  He stifled a laugh. “She’s feisty.”

  “You need to quit it.” Fuller stepped in front of me, gripping my hand tighter. “Now.”

  His teammate threw his head back and continued laughing. “Sure thing, Fuller. Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll let Marc know.” He slapped the locker to his left before spinning and walking away. His laughter continued to ring throughout the hallway until he turned the corner and disappeared.

  “Wren, I’m so sorry. They…they just like giving me shit, but it’s not fair to you.” Fuller’s dark lashes swept down as he dropped his gaze. “I’m going to talk to him and Marc after school.”

  “Screw him,” I said. “His percentage from the three-point line is the worst on the team. He should watch who he’s making fun of.”

  “Stone-cold, Wren,” Fuller said with a chuckle. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “Whatever, we both know it’s true.”

  Fuller pushed on the library doors. We made our way past a cart full of books and toward our regular table. Mrs. Parsons glanced down the long, thin bridge of her nose and frowned. “You do know this is the library and not the roller rink, Miss Carter and Mr. James.”

  “Oh, whoops.” I let go of Fuller’s hand and gave her my best apologetic smile.

  She gave us a curt nod before getting behind the cart and rolling it over to the young adult fiction section.

  “Did she say the roller rink?” Fuller whispered. “Do those even exist anymore?”

  “Be nice.” I gave him a slight push as he pulled out two chairs, side by side.

  Fuller plopped his backpack on to the table. “Okay, but before we get started on our homework, I have one serious question for you, Miss Carter.”

  “What’s that, Mr. James?”

  He gave me a lopsided grin. “What do you think of my three-point shooting percentage?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fuller

  “Eh, it could be better.” Wren cocked her head to the side and shrugged.

  I brought my hand to my heart. “Ouch, Wren. That hurt.”

  “I could give you some tips, if you’re interested?”

  “Oh really?” I arched an eyebrow.

  “Totally.”

  “Okay, lay it on me.” I lifted my palms and wiggled my fingers.

  She leaned in, letting her elbows rest on the table. “Your balance is a little weak. You need to focus on squaring up your feet and being completely balanced before you let the ball go.”

  “Well, damn.” She was totally right.

  “Steph Curry did an interview about it back in the day.” She winked at me, sending shivers down my spine. How could one little action cause such an intense reacti
on? I shook my head.

  “Wren, you never cease to amaze me.”

  Her smile faltered. It was as if she was suddenly holding something back from me.

  “So, what’s up? What did you want to talk about?” My leg brushed up against hers under the table.

  She twisted her lips to the side.

  “You can ask me anything.” I leaned forward. Yeah, right. Anything but why TyShaun and Marc are acting like jerks. Guilt gnawed away at my conscience.

  “Are you one hundred percent over Marissa?” Wren’s emerald eyes were full of concern. “I know you two have a history, and she seemed so confident that you were going to the dance together…”

  I reached under the table and grabbed her hand. “One hundred and fifty percent. Marissa is just trying to get under my skin. I think I need to man up and call her after practice. I’ll be honest, tell her that I care about you and that we don’t need her interfering in our relationship. I don’t know if she’ll listen, but it’s worth a try.”

  The thought of calling Marissa made my skin crawl, but there didn’t need to be any more blowups or confrontations between me and her or her and Wren. The call probably wouldn’t go over well, but it was the least I could do. We’d gone out on and off for more than two years. She was manipulative and cruel, but I was hoping our past would mean something to her.

  She did weirdly emphasize the word “bet” in the cafeteria. What if Marissa knows about it? Would TyShaun tell her? They’ve been friends since middle school. Then again, we all used to be friends… All of us except Wren. The sickening possibility sank into my stomach. No, no way. She would have already thrown it in my face and used it against Wren.

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Wren’s jaw tightened. I hated that she was stressed because of me. The worst part was that she already felt like this and she didn’t even know about the worst part.

  My inner angel and demon rehashed the possibility of laying everything out on the table for the millionth time. The thought of hurting Wren and letting Coach down was too much to bear. I’d brought my grades up, I was playing in the season opener, and I had Wren Carter in my corner. My only option was to sweep any and all evidence of the bet under the rug and work up the courage to ask Wren Carter to officially be my girlfriend.