I Hate You, Fuller James

by Kelly Anne Blount

  “You know what?” she asked, pulling me out of the rabbit hole I’d temporarily fallen into.

  “What?”

  “You’re a great guy, Fuller.” Wren tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m really glad I hit you with mashed potatoes in the cafeteria.”

  Grinning from ear to ear, I squeezed her hand under the table. “Me too, Wren. And you know what else I’m glad about?”

  “What’s that?” She’d propped her elbow on the table and was resting her face in the hand I wasn’t holding.

  “That you agreed to go to the dance with me.” I sounded like a lovestruck fool, but I didn’t care. I’d fallen for Wren Carter, hard.

  “I’m glad you asked.” Wren bit her lower lip. “Are you really okay taking your name out of the running and giving up your chance of being the back-to-back Fall Harvest Prince?”

  “That isn’t important to me anymore.” I looked into her hazel eyes. “I meant what I said to Marissa. I’m over the popularity contest.”

  “Are you sure?” Wren asked.

  “Totally.”

  Her head tilted to the left. “I have to make a confession.”

  Letting out a shaky breath, I pretended everything was fine. “What’s up?”

  Wren’s eyes lit up. “You know, I’ve never gone to a dance before with someone I actually liked.”

  My chest swelled with pride. “Is that so?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, I have a confession to make, too.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something… But I haven’t worked up the nerve to do it yet.”

  Wren leaned back in her chair. “Fuller James, nervous? No way. I don’t buy it.”

  My shoulders rose and then fell. “It’s the truth. While I may have never stumbled across this problem before…I seem to have fallen into a sandpit of doubt.”

  “Do you need Westley to jump in and rescue you?” Wren asked me with a giggle.

  “Westley? I’m lost.”

  Wren’s brow furrowed. “The Princess Bride reference. Please tell me you’ve watched that movie before.”

  I shook my head. “Nope, sorry.”

  Wren let out an audible gasp. “Fuller James, that’s inconceivable!”

  “What?”

  “Okay, hold the phone. Before you explain your sandpit of doubt, please tell me that you’ve watched my second favorite movie, Say Anything.”

  “Um, say what?”

  Wren’s eyebrows shot up as she inhaled. “It’s only the best classic romantic comedy of the nineteen eighties. John Cusack and Ione Skye, the boom box scene? He plays her the ‘In Your Eyes’ song?” Wren looked at me like I was some kind of alien.

  “Okay, well, how about this.” I leaned in closer, screw Mrs. Parsons and whether we’re in a library or a roller rink or whatever. “You come over on Saturday and we’ll watch both those movies.”

  “I’d love that.” Wren hadn’t stopped smiling since we stopped talking about Marissa. Unfortunately, that was about to change. There was something I had to talk to her about before our movie date and before we could take the next step. Something that could change everything…

  “Wren, I’m so sorry.” The words tumbled out of my mouth so fast, I’m not sure they were even intelligible.

  Her face scrunched up in confusion. “What?”

  “I’m really sorry for how I treated you in middle school.” My heart went into overdrive, thumping so wildly I was sure she could hear it. I’d never been this nervous before.

  She inhaled softly.

  Hands pressed against the table, I continued. “I was a huge jerk. I thought being popular was more important than being a decent human being. I…I was a coward and a bully.”

  When Wren didn’t respond, my chest deflated. Had I blown it by bringing up the past? Would Wren suddenly remember what an asshole I’d been and cut me out of her life?

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke. “Thank you for the apology. I really appreciate it.”

  “If I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat.” I meant every single word, but had I done enough since falling for Wren to convince her that I had changed? Assured her that I wasn’t that guy anymore?

  “I believe you.” She paused; her voice didn’t sound as sad, but her smile still hadn’t returned. “It’s weird, you know?”

  “What is?”

  She looked up, her eyes meeting mine. “This whole situation. You and me. I never would have thought in a million years we’d be here.”

  “Me either.” I smiled. “But I’m really glad that I was failing AP Lit.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  There it is! Her smile had finally returned. But just as quickly as it had popped up on her face, it vanished again.

  Wren shifted her weight in her seat. “Sometimes I wonder what if would have been like if Marissa and I’d stayed friends. You know, if you hadn’t told her to stop hanging out with me.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I’m not mad. I was just thinking how different my life would be if Marissa and I were still friends. Could you imagine me wearing high heels to school?” She let out a soft chuckle.

  My nose scrunched in response. “Wren, I never told Marissa to stop hanging out with you.”

  “Seriously?” Wren asked.

  “Cross my heart.” I made an X over my chest.

  Her head moved from right to left as she exhaled. “I don’t know why I’m surprised… It’s yet another lie from Marissa. I guess it was easier for her to put the blame on you than to tell me that she didn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said. I meant it, too. “And…there’s one more thing.”

  She froze, probably afraid to hear what I’d share next.

  “It’s my fault you got that terrible nickname. If I just would have kept my mouth shut, things would have been a lot different.”

  “What do you mean?” Wren asked.

  I sighed. “That night, no one laughed until I repeated it. It’s my fault it caught on.” His voice was full of remorse.

  Her eyebrows pulled together. “Until you repeated it?”

  “I feel like by saying this, it sounds like I’m trying to blame someone else, but I want to be completely honest with you.” I looked deep into her eyes. “Marissa came up with the nickname. I was being an ass and I repeated it, loudly. That’s when everyone else heard it and started laughing.”

  She let out a slow breath. “I’d always thought it was you…”

  “I’m still responsible.” The muscles in my jaw clenched.

  Wren sat with her hands folded and her gaze averted. “You know what? Knowing that it was Marissa isn’t a shock. But I still appreciate you being honest with me.”

  I winced. “I’m really sorry, Wren.”

  “I forgive you.” Wren’s words felt light and airy.

  “You do? For real?” I didn’t want to sound desperate, but I had to know if she still cared about me. And there was something else I wanted to ask her… Something big.

  “For real. And if it’s okay with you, I still want to watch my favorite movies with you this weekend.” She smiled, a big, contagious smile.

  “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” I reached forward and squeezed her hand. “But you’re only invited over under one condition.” It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. It was ballsy, but I hoped it would pay off.

  “What’s the condition?” Wren arched an eyebrow.

  Running a hand through my hair, I looked her in the eye and blurted out, “That you agree to go out with me.”

  Wren’s eyes shot wide open. She looked like she’d seen a ghost or maybe LeBron James walking down the street, I couldn’t tell. But if that wasn’t ter
rifying enough, she just sat there, speechless.

  “I was just joking! I swear. I mean, you totally can still come over, if you don’t want to um, be my, I mean, be my girlfriend or whatever. Or if you don’t want to come over at all, that’s okay, too. It would suck, but I’d understand.” My cheeks burned as the words tumbled out of my mouth. It was like I’d suddenly come down with some kind of terrible case of verbal diarrhea.

  “Yes.” Her smile returned.

  My jaw dropped. “Wait, are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Wren reached forward and took my other hand in hers. “Fuller, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

  My heart drummed in my chest. I wanted to kiss her, but I also had the urge to get up and sprint around the block in celebration. She said yes! I beamed as our fingers intertwined. The fact that the bet was still looming over my head put a slight damper on things, but I was going to take care of that next. Then everything would be perfect.

  “Wow, I’m dating the leading free throw and soon-to-be leading three-point shooter in all of Magnolia Valley High School’s history.” She smiled and bit her lower lip.

  Adrenaline shot through my veins. Breathless, I cupped Wren’s face with both hands and stole a quick kiss. As I pulled away, I could taste coconut lip balm.

  Luckily, we hadn’t gotten caught, but I wouldn’t care even if we had. I couldn’t help myself. I was the happiest guy in the whole school, because Wren Carter had agreed to be my girlfriend.

  …

  After giving Wren a kiss in the hallway and ignoring several gawking sophomores, I jogged to practice. Even though I was dreading it, it was finally time to squash this bet situation once and for all.

  Luckily, Ty and Marc had gotten to practice early. I glanced at the clock in the gym. We had ten minutes before we needed to be changed and on the court. Plenty of time to clear the air.

  “Hey, guys. Can we talk?”

  Marc tensed up and took a step backward. I didn’t blame him. The last few times we’d talked, things had been heated.

  “Out there,” I said, pointing to the side doors of the gym. “It’ll only take a minute.”

  They both nodded and followed me outside.

  Mountains towered around us as a subtle breeze raised goose bumps on the back of my neck. I was equal parts nervous to come clean and excited to finally have the secret squashed for good.

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “Look, I’ve been an asshole. I never should have made the bet; it was a jerk move. Ty, I shouldn’t have threatened you with those pictures of you and Chantel, either—that was a jerk move, too. The truth of the matter is, I was struggling in AP. Principal Davis and Mrs. Brewster assigned Wren as my tutor. They basically had to force her to do it, which was super embarrassing, and Coach didn’t want you guys to know there was a chance I’d be riding the bench for the season opener. He was scared it would screw with the team’s mojo, so I tried to cover it up with the bet.”

  Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I continued. “The thing is, I really like her, and I’d do anything to keep her from finding out about the bet. Seriously, anything. Ty, I’d walk Bear every single day after practice until we leave for college next year. Marc, I’d hunt down Fabian Nicieza and Rob Liefeld and get them to sign all your Deadpool comics.”

  It felt like a three-hundred-pound weight had been lifted off my chest. I took a deep breath. My confession felt more freeing than my early morning runs. The best part was, I didn’t need to act like an even bigger jerk and threaten my friends.

  TyShaun shook his head. “You don’t need to do all that, man. We’ll drop it. I mean, that’s what friends do, right?”

  Marc nodded in agreement.

  “You guys have no idea how much better I feel right now. This crap has been eating me up.”

  “You think you should come clean about the bet?” TyShaun asked. “I mean, to her.”

  It felt like cold hands clamped on my lungs and squeezed the air out of them. “No. I can’t. She’d never forgive me. And it doesn’t matter anyway—my feelings for her are real.”

  “Understood.” Marc cocked his head to the side and scrunched up his nose. “Wow, man. I had no idea. You really like her that much?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Hearing myself admit out loud that I liked Wren for the second time today felt good. Scratch that, it felt amazing.

  “But she’s so…”

  “Trust me, guys. I know I was a huge jerk to her in the past, and I’ve already apologized to her about that, but I really like her. I was wrong about so many things.” I held out my hands, palms facing up toward the sky. “It’s that simple.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Wren

  “We’re so glad you could join us, Wren.” Mrs. James smiled and passed me a giant bowl of salad.

  “Thank you so much for inviting me.” I accepted the bowl and used the salad tongs to transfer the leafy greens to my plate.

  “Pregame dinners are my favorite.” Fuller loaded his plate with pasta and smothered it in homemade spaghetti sauce.

  “Same. We usually have pasta at my house before cross-country meets. We always use my grandma’s sauce and meatball recipes. Gramps loves those dinners.” Nostalgia tugged at my heart. Family dinners were the best.

  Fuller caught my eye and smiled. “Gramps is a great guy.”

  “We’re really glad he’s feeling better,” Fuller’s mom added.

  “Thank you. So are we.” I handed the salad bowl to Hudson’s outstretched hands.

  “We’re also incredibly grateful that you helped our Fuller recognize his potential in AP,” Fuller’s dad said, clapping his son on the back. “Thanks to you, he’ll be starting the game tomorrow night.”

  Fuller’s cheeks turned dark red. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Anytime, champ.”

  Hudson grabbed a breadstick from a basket in the center of the table. “Is the UGA coach still coming tomorrow?”

  Fuller finished chewing a big bite of pasta before answering. “I think so, Hud. There might even be a few scouts there from other schools, too.”

  Hudson’s eyes shone with admiration. “Wow.”

  “Wren, are you coming to the game?” Mr. James asked.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I grinned broadly.

  Fuller’s mom gave his dad a knowing look.

  Twenty minutes later, after we were all stuffed from salad, pasta, and breadsticks, I helped Fuller clear the plates from the table.

  “Hey, I have a little something for you.” Fuller winked at me.

  “A present?” My skin started tingling.

  “Yup.” Fuller scraped the remnants from his little brother’s plate into the trash can.

  A smile played on my lips. “Are you going to tell me what it is, or do I have to wait?”

  “Oh, you definitely have to wait.”

  I playfully shoved his shoulder. “Not fair.”

  He shrugged. “My present. My rules.”

  We made quick work of the rest of the dishes until only the bowls of pasta, sauce, and salad were still out.

  “Lunch for tomorrow,” Fuller said as he filled up a container with the leftover pasta. He dolloped on three big spoonfuls of sauce. “Gotta carb up.”

  I placed the last dirty dish in the dishwasher and shut the door. “That pasta sauce was really good. It might even give Dae’s mom’s kimchi a run for its money.”

  “Mmm, kimchi. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out for so many years.” Fuller rubbed his stomach. “Thanks for sharing with me the other day.”

  “Hey, that’s what girlfriends are for, right?” I grinned.

  “Mm-hmm.” Fuller peeked his head around the corner of the open kitchen doorway.

  Apparently satisfied that his parents weren’t going to walk in, he pulled me into his arms and ducked his head.
His lips met mine; they were warm and tasted like spaghetti sauce.

  The sounds of footsteps pulled us apart. Fuller darted back over to the plastic container he’d filled for lunch tomorrow and snapped it shut. “You sure I can’t make you one?”

  His mom walked into the kitchen. “Oh, Wren, please, take some leftovers home. We made enough to feed a small army tonight.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. Let me grab you a container.” She hummed as she made her way over to the cabinet to the left of the sink. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

  “I need to run upstairs and grab something. I’ll be right back.” Fuller flashed a grin at me before disappearing around the corner.

  Mrs. James and I were left together in the kitchen.

  “Wren, I wanted to tell you, we really are so incredibly grateful for everything you’ve done for Fuller.” She laid a hand on my shoulder. “Charlie and I are so proud of the changes Fuller has made since meeting you. His grades have improved, but also his overall attitude is better, too. Even Hudson has noticed.”

  I was so happy, I felt like I could float right out of the kitchen. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “Mom, are you telling Wren embarrassing things about me?” Fuller had popped back into the room with a Magnolia Valley High School tote bag in his hand. “She already knows about the picture of me in the hallway.”

  “Who? Me?” She pulled her hand to her chest. “Also, that picture is one of my all-time favorites. I keep a copy with me always.” She pulled out her phone and unlocked the screen.

  “Ah, Mom, trust me, Wren doesn’t need to see that,” Fuller said, stepping in front of me and blocking my view of his mother’s cell. “If things are good in the kitchen, do you mind if I steal Wren for a few minutes?”

  His mom checked her watch. “Not at all. Just don’t make it too late. You’ve got a full day of school tomorrow and then the game. You need a good night’s sleep.”

  Fuller smiled. “Don’t worry, Mom. We won’t be long.”

  She handed me the two containers filled with food. “Sounds good, kids.”