Hate Me

by Leen Elle

  Raylin was really letting rip into the poor guy, albeit in the iciest, sharpest tone I've ever heard from her, "Who the hell do you think you are? Get your filthy claws of my boyfriend. Didn't we make it clear just now that he's my boyfriend? Get lost." Those last two words were so cold and so intense, that even I felt my skin erupt into goose pimples. He blinked, shocked by her words and backed off. For the second time that day, he left.

  Raylin turned to me and chortled, "So, my dear boyfriend, had a fun time with that gay?" I rolled my eyes but thanked her all the same. Saying goodbye to the girls for the second time that day, I left, shoving my hands deep into my pockets and slouching as though my life depended on it.

  RAYLIN

  I waved goodbye to him as he went down the escalator. Someone slung an arm around my shoulder, whispering, "So, what's the deal between the two of you?"

  "Nothing?" I tilted my body to face Belinda who had a knowing smirk plastered on her face. "I'm serious!" the others clustered around, staring me down with their intense gazes. Even Sierra joined in, lifting one corner of her lips in a wry smile. I protested again in defiance, "We're just friends, okay?"

  The moment those words left my lips, I regretted it. Three of them turned to face Sierra, who looked taken aback at three stares fixed on her. Leila drawled, "You see, Sierra, about two years ago, someone said something about boys and friends not going together."

  "That's right. The exact sentence however, is 'I've never had a male friend before because there're no such thing as male friends, okay? I've only ever had boyfriends, never boy friends.'" Calista continued, leaning on the wall next to Sierra.

  "See, the problem right now, is that none of us can remember just who exactly said that," Belinda added thoughtfully, tucking a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. "Now, could you enlighten us, Sierra?"

  A grin brightened up her face, "Well, I could try guessing, couldn't I?"

  "Of course."

  "Does that person's name start with an R?"

  "Well… Belle says yes, so I suppose so."

  "Alright, Leila. Umm… Calista, does that person's name end with an… N then?"

  "That's a good question. Raylin, does it?"

  "…"

  "Sierra, Raylin says it ends with an N."

  "I wonder… if that person is Raylin…" Sierra pondered, placing her fingers up against her chin. The other three girls mimicked her action and faced me, seizing me up and subtly inching away because they knew I was going to swat them on their heads.

  I fumed, "Well that's enough ribbing for today. Let's go get smoothies or something." They shrugged and we walked towards the escalator lazily. As we walked, I mulled over what happened earlier on. For the benefit of the girls, I would have to agree a little. If it was someone else, I wouldn't have bothered helping him with the gay guy incident. And if someone else had tried to grab my waist and pass me off as his girlfriend, I would have kneed him in his sensitive nether regions. But when Viper had pulled me towards him… I felt…

  It just felt good to be pressed up against him. Although he covers himself up in those baggy shirts and bondage pants, his body really is toned and buff. I had accidentally walked into the bathroom one morning when he was bathing, all because he forgot to lock the door. Before I had squeaked an apology and shut the door, I had caught a glimpse of his muscled abdomen. The way he placed his hand on my waist just felt so right, as though it was supposed to fit there and…

  Wait a minute, Raylin Jessica Lachey. Just what are you thinking? Yea, what am I thinking? You're actually thinking that Viper is right for you? Hey, I was! Oh crap. This couldn't be happening. I was merely in l… l… lust with him. That's right. I don't like him. I just… lusted after his insanely good looks and well, insanely good body as well. I let out my breath in a slow hiss, glad that I hadn't mentioned the other 'l' word at all.

  "Umm, Raylin? Calista's asking you what you want…" Sierra tugged at my bag strap for perhaps the hundredth time, trying to get my attention. I focused my gaze on her, "What? Oh, er… strawberry and yoghurt please." Calista nodded and conveyed it to the girl behind the counter.

  I think I made an interesting discovery today.

  VIPER

  I left the air conditioned mall and stepped into the warmth of the sun. as I walked past the shops, I stopped outside the book house and hesitated. Remembering that Raylin was still at the mall, I went ahead and pushed the glass door open, the little bell above protesting against it. Maria smiled at me behind the counter. I smiled back before ordering a cup of latte. She whipped it up for me in a flash and handed it to me, along with a slice of that triple layered chocolate cake I had rejected that day. She winked at me and mouthed, "On the house."

  I thanked her and walked to the usual corner I sat in, picking a book from the shelves and opening it. I stared at the first line for a good three minutes, the words blurring together as my mind went wild. My thoughts drifted towards a certain girl with black hair and gray eyes, but each time, I snagged them back indignantly. Finally, I gave up and let them loose.

  Something stirred in me when I held her. It felt so good to hold her close, to have her pressed up against me. I think my heart thumped about a million times faster when she placed her hand on my hip. Why?

  My mother would have said I was in lo- no. Love doesn't exist, so how can I be? On second thought, I rarely became tongue-tied, much less lose my cool in the presence of girls. Usually, I breezed through conversation effortlessly, or rather, stay mute and dark. It was weird. Hell yeah, it was.

  Then again, who can deny the fact that she's undoubtedly hot? She's got to be one of the most gorgeous girls I've ever met. There, I've admitted it, haven't I? I admitted that she's gorgeous. I could name an entire list of what I like about her.

  I like the way her hair is never out of place, I like the way that it falls nicely around her shoulders, or swings so nicely in a ponytail. I like it that she looks so elegant although her hair is in a horribly messy bun or even if she's wearing a shirt ten sizes too big.

  I know I sound morbid, but I think the way she looks at the people she doesn't like is amazing. It sends thrills down my spine every time she sets those gray orbs on me. I even like the fact that she keeps everything so neat, and that she's a perfectionist, always fretting about her grades, yet managing to keep so calm in frantic situations. I like the way she cares so much about her sister.

  Wait, what on earth was wrong with me? How could I be thinking about the Ice Queen? And not just that, listing out numerous good qualities about her. I mean, sure, she was really nice for letting me bunk at her house for almost two weeks and never saying a single word of complain. She never condemned me for my father either, and she was really gentle with Melvin's wounds.

  But I can't lo- like her. No, I just think she's hot. That's right, she's hot and all I ever feel towards her is lust.

  "Yes, that's all!" I exclaimed out loud. Maria looked at me from behind the corner. I gave her a sheepish look and finished my drink, replacing the book and getting up. When I walked past the counter on my way out, Maria called out to me. I approached the counter, an inquiring look on my face.

  "Don't be ashamed of your feelings for her. Just go ahead and tell that lucky girl how much you like her!" Maria beamed, ignoring my surprised expression. "Good luck with it!" She shoved me towards the door and waved to me. A wave which I returned dumbly before stumbling out the door. I wanted to ask her how she knew what I was thinking but then again, maybe I didn't want to know after all.

  Chapter 9

  Stairway to Hell (II)

  "When you said forever, you meant a few months; when I said forever, I meant every day until I died. When you said always, you meant until you couldn't handle it anymore; when I said always, I meant until time ended. When you said you loved me, you meant I was no different from any other girl; when I said I loved you, I meant I had never felt for others just what I felt for you."

  RAYLIN

  My mother is fine
. She really is, despite the fact that she still scarfs down chocolates. Still, she loses those pounds she puts on from the fattening chocolates with 5km runs every morning. And now that she has lost her job at the college, she's put up her resume online, sent it off to a few other colleges and delved back into a normal lifestyle. I guess she's finally gotten over how that dirtbag / asswipe / gayshit guy called… damn, I have this tendency to forget the names of ugly people. Forgive me? I walked out of my room and down the stairs, swiping a cookie from the plate Rayne was carrying to her room. She glared at me, fuming, but I stared right back pointedly at the Diet Coke she was holding in the other hand.

  "Raylin, honey, it's the Valentine's Day dance tonight, isn't it?" Emily P. Lachey called out pleasantly from her seat at the dining table. "Have you prepared what you're going to wear yet?"

  I paused in front of the couch where I was about to pick up the remote and joined her at the table instead. For someone who spent half their after-divorce lives pining for (usually unworthy) guys, my mother sure had an unbelievably amazing memory. I nodded, reaching for the can in front of her. I stopped with my hand closed around it.

  "Mom! Is that my Diet Coke again?" I sighed in exasperation. With the millions we probably had in the bank accounts that my mother had complete access to, and the hundreds Rayne had in her personal savings, I simply cannot comprehend why they had to take my drinks. No, seriously, perfectionists are not selfish, don't trust Belinda. Try buying two six-packs of Diet Coke, hiding them in the most secluded corner of your (very big) refrigerator, and yet finding just one can left after a week. Did I mention that I limited myself to drinking only three cans per week? Thus, in conclusion, I only managed to drink a quarter of the drinks that I bought. Once is fine, twice is fine, but thrice is just not right.

  She smiled at me condescendingly, the dark red lipstick shimmering on her lips. Her soft red hair fell softly around her shoulders, a striking contrast against her black silk blouse. I had to wipe the scowl away from my face to break into a smile. My mother was really beautiful. She got up and retrieved another can of Diet Coke from the refrigerator to place before me. I popped the tab, taking a long swig out of it, savoring the taste. My mother laid a soft hand on top of mine, "So, Raylin, do you have any, ah… people-of-the-opposite-sex-who-are-more-than-just-slightly-attracted-to-you?"

  "Yes, mom. I've had quite a few admirers, if that's the word you were searching for," I replied, rolling my eyes at her failed attempt at being subtle. "And before you ask, mom, I didn't accept any of them."

  "Ah well," my mother drew back in disappointment before a thoughtful look crossed her face. "I must say, though, sweetheart. Love is hard to find and I'm not surprised if you rejected them. It would be better off this way I guess, if you don't have feelings for all the hims that have tried to pursuit you…"

  "Love doesn't exist," I murmured, more to myself than to the can I was holding to my lips. I swirled the can gently, feeling the caramel colored liquid sloshing about. My mother's eyes had widened at my quiet comment. She grabbed my hands, chiding sternly, "Now, now, how can you say that? If love didn't exist, neither you nor Rayne would have been born."

  "Save it, mom, you and I both know that Rayne was in actual truth, an accident. Besides, if you really loved Dad, why did you guys divorce? It doesn't make sense does it, to be far apart when both of you love each other deeply!" I snapped back angrily before reining in my emotions. My mother looked away, tears forming in her eyes. I rested a hand on her shoulder guiltily. "I'm sorry… I really didn't mean to say it. I guess I just blurted it out like that."

  She returned her gaze to me, giving a watery smile. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "You must know, honey, that even if love didn't exist between your parents, it existed between your father and… and his girlfriend. That's why we divorced – because of his love for her. There's the reason why you cannot say that love doesn't exist."

  I looked down. She made sense, that I was certain of, but I was just not able to accept that fact. How did she expect her daughter to change a mindset that she has had for seven years? A question from her made me look up again. What made me think this way, mom? Well, let's see, maybe it was your horribly soured relationship with my father; or maybe it was because of your whirlwind romances through the years; or perhaps it was how those fucked up assholes made you cry. I don't know, mom, I really don't.

  "Oh, Raylin!" My mother leaned over to envelope me in a hug. "I never thought you felt that way!" I stared at the top of her head, startled. I hadn't meant to say those things out loud. I bit my lip awkwardly, unsure of what to respond. Just then, the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell indeed. Our awkward conversation was finally over. We had never had such a talk before, and I didn't like it much. My mother released me as I walked towards the door to open it. Four girls tumbled in, each looking as gorgeous as the next. An unnatural light filled the room, casting everything in a pearly glow. The faint singing of hymns in angelic voices could be heard in the background…

  Alright, what really happened was that they tumbled into my house, waved at my mother who smiled and invited them to my room before disappearing into the garden, and thundered their way to my newly organized room. Belinda flopped down on my bed, creasing the initially straight sheets. I grimaced as the others took up spots on the almost bare floor and began emptying their bags.

  From her bag, Belinda withdrew a clothes cover and disappeared into the washroom to change. Calista reached to her side to grab the tall paper bag with the brand 'SWEETLACE' stamped in bold silver letters. My best friend took the black paper bag sitting before her and gazed at me expectantly. Of the five of us present, only Sierra's red and black dress had ever met our eyes. I laughed and crossed the room to draw the curtains. Making my way back to the walk-in closet, I suggested, "Let's just mass change, alright? I'll change in the closet since my dress is in there."

  My suggestion was met with murmurs of agreement and the remaining three girls in the room turned their backs to each other. In my closet, I took down the simple gray dress hanging in it.

  It was a pearly gray and made of the softest silk. The edges were wavy and floated about gently every time I moved. The neckline was undeniably low but there was a sheer dark gray undershirt. I donned it and felt the soft material swishing against my calves in satisfaction. The front of the dress had a diagonal slash with trails of the pearly gray silk hanging from it. It hugged my figure and accentuated my curves. I suppose I do sound like I'm boasting, but I really did look gorgeous in the dress.

  Walking out of the closet, I was greeted with the pretty sight of Belinda in her midnight blue dress, which material shimmered every time she shifted. The color of the dress brought out the blue in her dark blue eyes, making her look all the more prettier. Besides, she had recently gotten rid of those blonde streaks in her originally hazel brown hair. The combination was a wondrous success.

  I beamed at her and turned my gaze to Calista, who was adjusting the satin ribbon at her waist. Her dress was a mix of dull gold and glittering threads. The dress complimented her caramel colored skin beautifully as she tilted her chin towards a figure in black leaning against my walls.

  Leila's form-fitting dress was a deep wine red, simple and elegant. The edges were hemmed in the palest pink, a stark contrast to the dress, yet softening the overall look. Whilst our dear Sierra was looking like an utter gothic princess in her red and black regale, sitting in a corner with a sullen look on her face.

  In a flash, the make-up artistes (namely me and Leila) and the hair expert (Calista), put on the finishing touches. I had my jet black hair cascading down my back in waves and silvery eyeshadow dusted over my lids. My cheeks had the faintest tint of pink and clear gloss covered my lips. Leila had insisted on lining my eyes in multitude layers of eyeliner. I was beginning to remind myself of Viper.

  Calista straightened Leila's black and red hair before whipping it up into a ponytail, the red streaks showing clearly through the black, leaving her frin
ge to fall nicely across her forehead. I applied a smattering of facial glitter to her smooth skin, lining her lips in dark red and eyes in black. The eyeshadow was spared, much to her relief.

  Calista tamed her curly mane of brown hair into silky waves, sweeping it all into a bun, leaving tendrils to frame her pretty face. Leila dusted the lightest gold colored eyeshadow over her lids, applying the faintest pink blusher over her cheeks. She settled for a nude lipstick, nodding in satisfaction at her work. Belinda had her hair combed so straight that it shone, not a single strand out of place.

  Calista demanded that she perch a wide navy blue hairband with a glittering butterfly in her hair. I blended a mix of dark and light blue on her eyelids, applying lipgloss with the faintest hint of pale red to her plump lips.

  Sierra was 'saved' for the last, where we had half her hair swept into a bun (after Calista had curled it slightly), the rest falling down her back in a sleek black waterfall, her eyes lined in black, with black eyeshadow and red lipstick so dark it looked almost black.

  "If there was a gothic princess competition," Belinda began, looking at Sierra admiringly. "You'd win hands down." Sierra parted her lips in a tinkling laugh, turning her head this way and that to take a good look at herself.

  A quick glance at the clock told me that it was time for us to leave to prepare for the dance in school. Gathering our things, we emerged from my room to leave. Rayne looked up from the television where she was watching Studd Leons – that demented pop star – prancing about on stage.

  A grin spread across her face as her gaze swept over our outfits, "If I were a lesbian, I'd date every single one of you. To hell with our age!" We laughed gaily while I looked around to tell my mother I was going. "You look gorgeous, sis!"

  "Wow, Rayne. That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!" I smirked teasingly, ruffling my carrot-topped sister's hair. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, I muttered, "If anything happens with mom, inform me okay? I'll keep my cell with me at all times." She nodded understandingly, giving me a gentle shove towards the door where the girls were already strolling towards the garage.