Hate Notes: A Sweet Enemies to Lovers Young Adult Romance (Lakeview Prep Book 1)

by Gracie Graham

  “Maybe we should sit down.” I scratched my head, turning toward the sofa across the room as my stomach tied in knots.

  “Toph, you’re scaring me,” she said, coming around the island to stand in front of me.

  I swallowed, meeting her gaze, then dropping my eyes to her hands, which were covered in flour, before I took them in mine and guided her to the couch.Inhaling, I gathered every ounce of courage I had. This wasn’t my responsibility; I knew that. This burden was unfair, but telling her was the right thing. Eventually, the truth would surface, and it would be so much worse if Mom had to find out from a friend, or someone at the school, or by stumbling across them together somehow.

  So I swallowed and steeled myself for whatever reaction may come, then said, “I have something to tell you. It’s about Dad . . .”

  Chapter 28

  PENELOPE

  A week passed, and as the days slid by, I eventually stopped checking my phone for a reply from Topher. His silence said everything.

  I laid sprawled out on the sofa in the living room, where I popped another Frito in my mouth while I watched my favorite horror flick, only I didn’t laugh at the stupid girl who fell for the trap this time. Instead, I frowned. “I get you, girl. I totally get you,” I said as she headed down the stairs to check on a loud noise. Because if I learned one thing these past weeks, it was that curiosity was lethal. I should’ve stopped pretending to be Julie long before Topher found out what I’d done, but I hadn’t because I’d become curious. Curious about who he was if not the royal I saw strutting through the halls of Lakeview. Curious about whether his life was really all that perfect. Curious as to whether he could actually fall for a girl like me. Curious about his secrets. Bottom line, I’d started talking to him for one reason and wound up continuing our exchange because I’d been eager to get to know him—all of him.

  And now look at me.

  I glanced down to the ratty pajama pants and t-shirt I still wore, even though it was four o’clock on a Saturday. With a sigh, I set the bag of Frito’s down on the coffee table at the same time my father and sister burst through the front door, and I was well aware I had been sitting in this same spot just last weekend. It was like a depressing episode of deja vu. My life was so uneventful, I could hardly stand it.

  Sara burst through the door and hurried to my side while my father hovered in the doorway, jingling the keys in his hand while clutching a garment bag in the other.

  “You won’t believe where we were,” Sara said, her smile nearly splitting her face in two.

  But I wasn’t really in the mood for guessing games, so I simply said, “I dunno. Where?”

  “Mr. Elliot offered Dad his job back and a raise and he—”

  My father patted her on the shoulder, a signal for her to stop as I glanced up at him, trying to hide the fact I wasn’t surprised by the news, though it took him long enough. In fact, I was starting to wonder if my deception had all been for nothing.

  “So you got your job back?” I asked.

  “Sort of,” he said, and when my forehead scrunched, he cleared his throat and said, “He said there’d been some sort of mistake with the equipment and offered a raise for the trouble, but I quit.”

  I blinked, waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, I asked, “Come again?”

  Dad rounded the coffee table in front of me while I tracked his movements. If he was going insane, I wanted to know. But all seemed fine as he took a seat in front of me on the table and repeated, “I turned him down. I quit my job.”

  I opened my mouth, but he continued before I had a chance to so much as squeak out a word. “Told Elliot where he could shove his promotion and that if he ever threatened my daughter again—”

  “He’d kick his ass,” Sara chimed in, and my father shot her a disapproving look.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I crossed my legs on the sofa as I tried to come to terms with what they were telling me, but my brain kept circling back to the fact he was still unemployed. “But why? What are you gonna do? What about all that stuff you said—”

  “I was wrong. To blame you. You made a mistake by lying to me, one I hope you won’t repeat.”

  “Oh, trust me, I learned my lesson about lying,” I said, staring down at my black painted nails. The same shade as darkness. The color of mourning, depression, lost hope.

  “This week gave me a lot of time to reflect on what happened, on what I want out of life, and he never should’ve threatened you,” Dad continued. “And he, for damn sure, shouldn’t have accused me of stealing.”

  My eyes widened. Dad never swore.

  “I’ve done nothing but given him two-hundred percent over the years, and he had zero reason to question my integrity. As far as his son, well, I can’t control what he does with his own kid, but you have my permission, as long as you swear he’s a decent guy, to date or hang out or . . . whatever you kids call it these days.”

  My throat tightened, and if Topher didn’t completely hate my guts, I’d probably laugh.

  “It’s fine, Dad,” I said, mostly because I didn’t think Topher and I would be talking, much less hanging out any time soon. “But what are you gonna do? I mean, you need a job.”

  Dad sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shifting his gaze to the wall behind me, lost in his thoughts as he said, “All these years, I thought I was setting a good example for you girls by working my butt of for this family, by providing for you, and showing you what it looks like to work hard and—”

  “You were. And you are,” I said, feeling my defenses rise, because he was a good father. The best. If he weren’t, I wouldn’t have risked my relationship with Topher.

  “Maybe, but . . .” He bit his lip, pausing as his eyes met mine once more. “Maybe I should’ve shown you that it’s okay to take a risk, to put yourself out there and believe in yourself. Then if you try and fail, at least you won’t ever look back, wishing you had done something different. Wishing you had enough faith in yourself to reach for your dreams. Which is why I’m opening my own business.”

  “Really?” My eyes widened, and I sucked in a shuddering breath.

  He nodded. “I’ve always wanted to, but I guess, after your mom . . . I just never thought it was in the cards. It’ll be tough at first, but I spoke with an investor; he used to be a client of Elliot’s, and he’s going to help fund some of the equipment I’ll need and my first hire, interest-free. Plus, I think I have enough of Elliot’s big-name clients that like me and are tired of the price hikes that’ll give me a chance to earn their business. I’ll start out slow, won’t get in over my head. I don’t need to make millions. Heck,” he scrubbed a hand over his face and laughed, “with the measly wage Elliot paid me, it won’t take much to earn that kind of salary.”

  “Dad, that’s—” I shook my head, trying to come up with the words to describe how happy it made me that after all this time he believed in himself enough to invest in his own hard work. “—amazing,” I said, finally. “Really. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Now, does this mean you’re done moping around and eating chips on the couch?” He eyed the half-empty bag of Fritos with an arched brow..

  “Unlikely.” I groaned and flopped back onto the sofa while Sara patted my hand. “It’s more than your job,” I said.

  “What is it, then?”

  “I . . . hurt a friend, and now they won’t forgive me.”

  “Does this friend happen to be Topher?”

  I slung an arm over my face. Already, my cheeks burned. It was so embarrassing talking about boys with Dad. “Maybe,” I said, peeking at him from under the cover of my arm.

  “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

  Those were his infinite words of wisdom? Not that he knew exactly what happened, but still . . .

  “And if he doesn’t?” I asked, the ache returning to my chest.

  “Then you pull a Romeo,” Sara said beside me, and I nearly choked.

  “Have you ever read Romeo and Juli
et?”

  She shrugged. “No.”

  “Um, you know Romeo killed himself, right? Because he thought Juliet was dead. That’s what that expression means? To . . .”

  I let her fill in the blank, and her face turned white. “Oh.”

  I laughed at her expression, feeling just a little lighter for it.

  “Yeah, don’t do that, then,” she said.

  “Well, tragic love stories aside,” Dad said, glaring at Sara. “We have a surprise for you.” Then he offered me the garment bag.

  I frowned as I took it, and he motioned for me to open it up. Slowly, I unzipped the bag to reveal a silk gown in the palest shade of pink like the bottom of a rose petal. “It’s beautiful,” I breathed.

  “It was your mothers. I had it dry cleaned, and I want you to wear it tonight.”

  “Tonight?” I blinked at him, and he stared at me like I was stupid.

  “To homecoming.”

  “I thought I was grounded,” I asked warily.

  “Consider yourself officially ungrounded.”

  My heart sunk as I thought about Topher. If I had made another choice, things would be different. I’d be wearing this gown for him.

  “It’s beautiful, and I’m so grateful, but I don’t think I’m going.”

  “What do you mean you’re not going. Of course you are.” Dad scoffed.

  “Well, I was supposed to go with Scarlett, and—”

  Someone knocked on the door, interrupting me, and Sara giggled.

  “Come in,” Dad shouted, and a moment later, the door swung open to reveal Scarlett looking like a runway model in a knee-length red beaded gown and sky-high heels.

  “Girl,” she said, strutting into the room, “we need to do something about that hair. It’s tragic, truly. Ooh, are those Fritos?” she said, then popped one into her mouth with a crunch, and I nearly laughed.

  “Thanks Mr. Ewe,” she said, taking the garment bag from me, “but I think I can take it from here.” Waving for me to follow, she headed to my room as I glanced helplessly at my father, who simply shrugged, a grin splitting his face in two.

  “Hurry,” Scarlett hollered. “At this rate, we’re gonna need a lot of time to get you ready.”

  A moment later, I entered my bedroom to find her at my vanity, going through my makeup. “Listen, I don’t think I’m . . .” My words faded as Sara’s mention of Romeo struck a chord.

  Romeo and Juliet—Topher and I argued about it that first day in the library when I said it wasn’t a love story. Maybe he and I weren’t exactly the Montagues and the Capulets, but we were two people from very different backgrounds, and Topher would’ve stuck by me if it hadn’t been for my mistakes.

  And maybe I couldn’t take it back. I couldn’t right my wrong, but unlike Juliet, I was no fool. I refused to lay down and play dead. If Dad could take a chance and put himself out there, so could I.

  I once told Topher my greatest fear was to be seen.

  So maybe it was time to stop standing in the shadows. Maybe it was time to put myself out there and face my fears.

  When we arrived at the ballroom, it was after dinner, which suited me just fine. With the nerves doing acrobatics in my stomach, there was no way I could choke down a meal without an uprising.

  I took a deep breath and surveyed the room. Unsurprisingly, a prom at Lakeview meant luxury. Chandeliers dripped from arched ceilings, while blue and purple lights illuminated the room in an ethereal glow. On the dancefloor, a mass of students moved to a fast song, swaying their hips and grinding to the music. There, amongst them, I spotted the Royals—all of them except for Topher, I realized, and my heart sank. My plan wouldn’t be nearly as effective without him there to hear it, but if there was one thing I could count on, it was that if I embarrassed myself in front of the whole school, someone was bound to get it on camera, which meant he’d see the replay.

  The song ended and the music died before Mrs. Leads, a chaperone and Lakeview’s guidance counselor, took the stage. After clicking on the microphone, she cleared her throat and began giving the introduction I imagined would lead to announcing the homecoming king and queen.

  “Are you ready for this?” Scarlett asked beside me.

  I turned to her as icy fingers gripped my chest. Any moment I’d start hyperventilating, but now was not the time to crack under pressure. “How do I look?” I asked, touching the ends of my hair. One side was swooped off the side of my face with a jeweled clasp, while the rest of it spilled down my back and shoulders in dark waves that took a painstaking amount of time to perfect.

  “Beautiful.” She smiled.

  “I don’t have lipstick on my teeth?” I flashed her a half-smile, half-grimace. If the whole school was going to make fun of me and I was going down in infamy, I wanted to do it looking good.

  “No.” Scarlett placed her hands over my shoulders, meeting my eyes as Mrs. Leads droned on behind me. “And you’re going to kill it.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded like I believed it even though I felt like I might barf. “You know, either that or make a complete fool of myself for nothing in front of the whole school.”

  “Make a fool of yourself? Yes. For nothing? No. Now, get up on that stage Penelope Ewe or so help me, I’ll drag you up there by your perfectly styled hair. And it’d be a shame to ruin such good hair.”

  I snorted, and when she released me, I spun around before I could second guess myself and made a beeline for the stage, taking the steps quickly in the hopes no one would stop me.

  Mrs. Leads glanced over at me, seemingly startled, and stumbled over her words as she began to announce the royal court. Then she covered the mic with one hand and hissed, “Penelope, honey, what are you doing up here?”

  I cleared my throat, ignoring the eyes that shifted to focus on me, along with the voice inside my head that told me to bail. “Um, can I have a moment?” I motioned toward the microphone, and Mrs. Leads frowned. “Please?” I asked.

  “Uh . . .” She straightened and took a tentative step back as she said, “Okay,” and retreated to the corner, lending me the stage.

  And then it was just me and the hot lights, the hundreds of faces peering up at me, and the pulse beating in my ears. I stepped forward, toward the microphone, and took it in my hands. I had a general idea of what I was going to say, but now I cursed myself for not deciding on a way to begin. After all, beginnings were important, and I couldn’t help but think back to mine with Topher, to all those years ago when he cracked the first joke about my name and everyone laughed. What would’ve become of me had he not done that? Would I be the same girl, standing here shaking to the core at the thought of speaking in front of a roomful of my peers?

  “Hi.” I raised a hand lamely and barely refrained from closing my eyes and smacking my forehead. I was that awkward. “Um, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Penelope Ewe. Friends and family call me P.”

  “Pee-yew!” Someone yelled from the crowd, and I didn’t have to be a genius to know it was JT.

  “Yep,” I gave a little laugh, “that’s me. Pee-yew, or as most of you know me, Skunk Girl. A dumb joke about my name that carried over from middle school. You know, for a long time, I walked the halls of Lakeview feeling entirely inadequate. You see, I wanted to be invisible. Because it’s easier that way. I was recently asked by someone what my biggest fear was—”

  The ballroom doors creaked open, and I froze as I laid eyes on Topher standing in the doorway—stunningly gorgeous in a navy blue suit, hair curling around his ears, and it took everything inside me not to run and hide like I always did.

  My throat tightened, threatening to close as his eyes found mine and the air rushed from my lungs. Even from across the room, I could see straight through blue-violet and everything became clear, like staring into a cloudless sky on a sunny day.

  I closed my eyes, inhaling before I blinked them back open and continued. “And I told him that my biggest fear was being seen. Which is why I’ve spent the last six years hid
ing, pretending like my place here was irrelevant. I was comfortable being a nobody. The problem is, people see me all the time, just not in the way I want them to. But here’s the thing I realized. Maybe this whole time, people never saw the real me because I was too afraid to put myself out there. Maybe had I shown you,” I shifted my gaze to meet JT’s eyes, then Mikey’s, “all of you, who I really am, more of you would accept me, maybe even like me.”

  When JT snickered, I laughed. “Or some of you would still be assholes.”

  Everyone laughed at that and JT scowled, while Mrs. Leads shot me a warning glare.

  “But the point is, I’m not scared anymore. And this person . . .” I glanced at Topher as I spoke. “Ironically, his biggest fear was to never be seen. But I see you. Not as the Royal or King, the jock, or the guy who has everything.”

  Slowly, one-by-one everyone shifted, turning, seeking the source of my attention. And when I heard the collective gasp, I knew they found it.

  He stood there, impossibly beautiful in his suit, eyes locked on mine, his expression unreadable.

  “I see how smart you are. And good. You’d keep a secret, even if it hurt you, as long as it saved someone else from the same pain—”

  “Why now? Why do this?” Topher interrupted, gesturing around him.

  The crowd shifted their focus from him to me again, watching the volley like a tennis match, and the heat of being in the spotlight bared down on me like a thousand suns.

  I tried to be brave as I gave a little shrug. “Because you wouldn’t listen to me any other way. And I was desperate. I thought that maybe if I did something bold, something that scared me and put myself out there by facing the very fears that ruled my life, then maybe you’d listen. Maybe you’d give me a second chance like I once gave you.”

  He glanced away from me, and even from a distance, I could see the muscle in the side of his jaw twitch.

  “You defended me when you could’ve continued on the path of least resistance,” I continued. “You gave me a chance. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.”