Want To Hate You ... Too Bad I Love You

by Melanie Marks

  “By inhaling my neck?”

  He grins. “Well, it smells really good.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “So you said—loudly.”

  He chokes out another laugh. “Look, maybe if Spencer just sees how desirable you are he’ll re-think the Aspen thing. Believe me, she’s a pretty packaged nightmare. He’ll be glad to be rid of her.”

  I roll my eyes. The way the two had been man-handling each other, I don’t think Spencer is in any hurry to ‘be rid of her.’ It’s more like he wants to eat her.

  Noah goes on with his crazy plan, “Plus, if it’s me being into you, it will let Spencer suspect my text to him about you not being ready to do the dating stuff was all manipulative and self-serving and … weasel-y. Look, I’m not above him thinking that stuff of me—okay?”

  A jet of warmth shoots through me. “You’d let him think you’re weasel-y?”

  Noah shrugs matter-of-factly with an adorable grin, “For my little sister, sure.”

  I’m almost touched. Okay, I am touched. Embarrassingly so. But still, I back away from him like he’s crazy. “Look, you don’t have to do that. I’m okay. I’m a big girl—”

  He grins at that.

  I roll my eyes. “Well, anyway, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. Go enjoy your date—and your eventful mouth-action.”

  Noah tilts his head and his hands go still. He lifts an eyebrow. “What?”

  I groan, “Just go.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Tonight there is a lot of drama going on at the restaurant. Even more than the neck-sniffing (if you can believe it). Of course, there is always a lot of drama going on at the restaurant.

  I’ll give you a little back history of how I got my job here in the first place (just to show you a tiny piece of how the drama goes). My best friend, Summer, is best friends with this girl, Zoey Jones. And Zoey is dating Finn, who is best friends with Riley, and Riley’s dad owns the restaurant. Follow that?

  I know I always talk about Summer being my ‘best friend.’ Don’t feel bad for me that I’m not hers in return. (Well, you can feel a little bad, but don’t go crazy over it.)

  I used to be Summer’s best friend. But then my parents got a divorce while I was in middle school and I moved away with my mom to live under a rock—you know, the one Noah is always teasing me about.

  Anyway, when I moved away, Summer’s life went on. She didn’t live under a rock. She made new friends … and a new best friend—Zoey. Don’t get me wrong, I love Zoey. I do. She’s nice. I just don’t really know her that well, since she didn’t live here before I moved away. And now she’s all tied up with her boyfriend, Finn. And her dad died recently, so she’s not, you know, looking for a way to bond with the new girl. Or even that aware of the new girl—me. But, well, she got me this awesome job at the restaurant. And, okay, I’m sure that’s almost completely thanks to Summer, but still—Zoey did it for me.

  Actually, Summer guaranteed me Zoey would. She said: “Zoey is the nicest person on earth, plus she has an ‘in’ with the boss’s son, Riley. He’s her boyfriend’s best friend. Plus—just as an interesting side-note—Riley is gorgeous. It has nothing to do with anything—it’s just an eye-candy fact. But anyway, if Zoey asks Riley to get you a job at the restaurant—he’ll give you one. Guaranteed.”

  Astoundingly, Summer was full-on right about that. It was amazing!!

  My first morning at Jefferson high, when Zoey learned I wanted a job at the restaurant, she nodded, sort of skeptical-like, but also like she was more than willing to give it a try.

  She mused aloud, “We really have too many employees working there already,” she admitted. “It’s a really fun, wonderful place to work—everyone wants to work there. But Riley is my boyfriend’s best friend—that seems to have a major pull with Riley. So, we’ll see,” she said hopefully.

  Then she raised her eyebrows, looking off in the distance. “There’s Riley now,” she said, pointing him out (yummy!!!).

  While I was still digesting his hotness, she called out to him, “Riley!”

  He’d been walking by in the crowded hallway, talking with his friends, but he stopped, like totally stilled, when Zoey called his name. Then he turned to her, and I could just tell by the soft look in his eyes: ‘Oh no, he loves Zoey.’ Which immediately led to the tragic realization: ‘He loves his best friend’s girlfriend.’

  My heart like, sank for him. Totally died.

  For a second.

  But then a girl came skipping up to him (from out of nowhere) and gave him a quick, yet lingering kiss on the lips as he strolled over to us. So, yeah … I kind of figured he’d survive. I mean, he’s gorgeous, and has random girls kissing him between classes. He was obviously enduring okay. (Eye-roll.)

  “What’s up?” he asked Zoey.

  “This is my friend, Peyton,” Zoey said, stretching the word “friend” a bit, since we’d just barely met. (But hey, any friend of Summer’s and all that … apparently.) Zoey looked hopefully at Riley, “She needs a job—and I told her you might hire her.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Done.”

  Whoa!

  My heart leapt with happiness. But also shock. Okay, mostly shock.

  I stammered out, “But—but I don’t have any work experience.”

  Riley turned back to me with a grin (by the way, there was a girl pulling his arms, trying to drag him to class). He tilted his head with an amused grin, “Are you trying to talk me out of hiring you?”

  “No. It’s just …”

  “Look, you’re a friend of Zoey’s,” he said, still getting dragged by the girl down the hallway. “I trust Zoey’s judgment.”

  Then he gave in to the girl and put his arm around her, walking with her to class. (She wasn’t the girl that kissed him, by the way.) (Sooo surviving.)

  I cocked my head at Zoey, “He seems to really like you.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” she murmured.

  When I raised my eyebrows, she explained. “Riley is the nicest, sweetest guy in the world. But he can’t stand me. I think he feels like I come between him and Finn.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “But he hired me because of you.”

  Zoey nodded slightly. “Yeah, like I said—he’s nice. But he only hired me, as a favor to Finn. Well that, and because he knew I really needed the job. Like I said, he’s nice.” Then she grimaced. “But he doesn’t like me. He avoids me—at all costs. You’ll see—once you start working with us … you’ll see.”

  “Oh-kay,” I said skeptically. Very skeptically. Because what I saw was—Riley loves Zoey. (And Zoey is blind.)

  CHAPTER 8

  Later that day, after Riley gave me the job, I mentioned to Summer how totally full-on right she was about Zoey being able to get me the job by asking Riley.

  Still amazed, I explained, “All Zoey had to do was just mention to Riley that I was her friend and needed a job and Riley hired me—on the spot.”

  Summer had grinned all mischievous at that.

  When I finally pestered her enough, she explained, “Zoey thinks Riley hates her—that he only hired her as a favor to Finn. But it’s so obvious—Riley loves Zoey.”

  I gaped, though I totally already knew that for myself. Still, I found myself saying, all astonished and dramatic-like, “Her boyfriend’s best friend???”

  Summer nodded with a sad sigh. “Yeah, the poor guy has it so bad.”

  I scoffed, “Well, he’s not exactly a ‘poor’ guy. From what I’ve seen today he can have just about any girl he wants.”

  Summer nodded, “Yeah, but he wants Zoey. So, he’s a ‘poor’ guy. Because Zoey loves Finn. Totally.”

  ***

  Now that I’ve started working at the restaurant, I can see it for myself. Poor Riley. He looks away anytime Zoey glances at him, but his eyes drink her in anytime she’s not looking.

  Meanwhile, Zoey thinks he hates her, because he purposefully doesn’t look at her—and avoids her—since she’s his best friend’s girlfriend. So, compl
etely off limits.

  He’s in a really difficult situation though, because he’s basically Zoey’s boss. I mean, technically Riley’s dad is the ‘boss,’ of course. But really, when you get down to it, basically Riley is our boss. Practically. His dad leaves him in charge all the time, and lately the man goes away on “business” a lot. (AKA: vacations with beautiful women.)

  Sometimes he’s gone a whole week. So, yeah, Riley’s our ‘boss.’

  Like tonight, Riley is totally in charge.

  As I’m picking up an order, I hear drama in the kitchen.

  “Excuse me,” this kind of witchy waitress, Porcha, snaps at Zoey all huffy and get-out-of-my-way-like.

  Distracted with filling out an order, Zoey moves out of Porcha’s way, but Porcha growls at her anyway.

  Zoey rolls her eyes, but goes on with what she’s doing, ignoring Porcha’s rudeness (and downright evilness).

  In my short time working here, I’ve already noticed all the waitresses are mean to Zoey. All of them. They’re jealous of her. Not just because she’s the best waitress—which she is, by far—but because they all accuse her of being Riley’s ‘favorite’ (which, again, she is—by far). But it’s not Zoey’s fault. And she doesn’t even notice it—that Riley gives her everything she wants. She’s still under the thick cloud of delusion that Riley can’t stand her.

  While Zoey is busy making a salad for table eight, she has to get something from the freezer or kitchen or somewhere. While she’s gone, Porcha steals Zoey’s perfect, beautiful salad and serves it to table thirteen, instead—her table.

  I see it happen, and I’m about to tell Riley, but then I see that he already noticed. (Nothing gets passed the dude.) He narrowed his eyes, and grunted, then he quickly remade a salad for Zoey—to replace the one Evil Porcha swiped. As he passes Porcha he says, “If you ever do that again, you’re fired.”

  Porcha tries to act all innocent, “Do what?”

  He grinds his jaw muscles. “Make your own salads, Porcha,” he says evenly. Then he adds, “And just so we’re clear—you’re now closing tonight instead of Zoey.”

  When Porcha starts to complain, he replies over his shoulder, walking away, “Take it up with the boss.”

  Recap: He is the boss.

  Obviously, it’s his (smooth) way of reminding Porcha.

  Riley’s the boss.

  (In more ways than one.)

  CHAPTER 9

  As it gets near closing time, for some reason Spencer is still around. I don’t know why, but the employees like to ‘hang out’ at the restaurant even when they are off the clock. During our busy hours it’s frantic and difficult to visit, but near closing time things settle down and it’s fun.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Noah walking his ‘date’ or whatever the heck she is, to the bathrooms. Wow, such the gentleman. Eye-roll. (But I want one!!)

  Suddenly, I’m whipped around. What the—??

  I’m shocked to see it’s Noah that did the whipping. Again, what the—?? He spun me around to face him. My heart is slamming so hard against my chest it hurts. What the heck is he doing???!!!

  Noah’s eyes twinkle seductively. Have me totally hypnotized, though equally confused. It all happens in a flash—the whipping and the hypnotizing—then suddenly his amazing, delightful lips crash on mine. At first it’s, you know, obviously for show—for bewildered Spencer. But then holy smokes! Things heat up FAST. His hands tangling in my hair and his tongue exploring mine like there’s no tomorrow and he’ll never get enough of my mouth.

  When Noah finally drags his lips from mine, his hot breath heats up my body as he whispers in my ear, “That was some nice mouth-action, sis.”

  Then he adds seductively with a grin, “—very eventful.”

  While I’m still in a stunned daze, too dazzled to speak (or breathe), Noah’s college-mouth girlfriend (or whatever she is) sidles up to him with absolutely no clue that he’d just kissed me, passionate and mmmm. I mean, holy smokes!! I’m seriously on fire, and weak in the knees, and probably going to need an ambulance. I mean, what was that????

  While I’m trying to catch my breath, Noah watches me curiously. His eyes glued to mine, gently he brings two of his fingers up to his lips, tracing them like he’s dreamily reliving what he’d just been doing with his hot, exquisite mouth. (Quiver!!)

  He tilts his head at me. Then he winks at Spencer. “My text last night may have been a little deceiving,” he says.

  Then he leaves. Out the door. With his girlfriend.

  And I’m about to pass out.

  I seriously can not take this bizarre game.

  My mind, body, soul, and mouth are not equipped to handle this kind of stuff.

  So … I’m just going to have to sternly tell Noah to knock it off.

  … well, eventually.

  I mean, maybe just one or two more hot kisses first.

  Or maybe three?

  CHAPTER 10

  My parents got a divorce because of Noah’s mom. It’s a fact. Well, it was a fact—in my middle school mind. All I knew was, my parents seemed happy—then bam! My dad wanted a divorce—because he loved Noah’s mom. And he wanted to be married to her instead.

  I hated my dad for that—for leaving my mom. So, I left him.

  Mom was hurt and bitter about the divorce—and so was I. She moved us far, far away from Dad, and I refused to go to his wedding—or to visit him. Ever. To me he was dead.

  My mom is an artist. Once she was divorced, and no longer trying to fit into Dad’s ‘box’ (her words) she became extremely successful with her work. It happened like, over night. She was sad and divorced—then wham! Instant success.

  So, she devoted all her time to work. But the thing was, she moved us up on this mountain. It had a breathtaking view—but we were out in the middle of nowhere, and there was no school bus, and mom was really, really busy—you know, making gobs of money and doing exactly what she loved.

  So, it was great … for her. But I had absolutely no social-life. There were no kids around my age. In fact, there were no people around at all. Which, again, was excellent for Mom—no distractions. But me? Well, I could have used some distractions.

  When we first moved on the mountain mom had said, “We’ll home-school you until the fall. Then you can start school at the new school year.”

  Never happened.

  I was just homeschooled. There was no school bus for the area and the school was too far away. And too much of a distraction for busy, successful mom.

  She took me for dance lessons though, twice a week. I made friends there. Well, sort of. The girls were nice enough to me, but they would seldom invite me over to their houses—and never to their parties that I would hear about.

  Also, they all went to school together—so I was the outsider. Always.

  I did make one actual friend though. Her name was Lydia. She explained to me, “They don’t invite you to their parties because they’re worried you’ll get all the attention from the boys they like.”

  Lydia didn’t get invited to their parties either. But it was because they didn’t think she was “cool” enough.

  But whatever. I didn’t have the luxury of seeking someone “cooler.” I was just glad to have a friend.

  I started a blog. It was called, “Is anyone out there??”

  Yeah, I was that lonely. My dad kept wanting me to come live with him, but no way. I would see the text messages my mom and Noah’s mom would send to each other. They were vicious. I was on mom’s side.

  Even when they got a restraining order against Mom.

  I have to admit, Mom doesn’t like to lose. Not even when it’s a guy she’s better off without—even when she knows it. She was still quite adamant—Noah’s mom destroyed our “family.” The lady basically left me without a dad, and definitely left me with a hesitation about men. And love. I mean, since “love” can obviously be thrown away so easily.

  So…

  All I was left with was a blog. And an
“un-cool” friend. Well, and also my “cool” old friend, Summer—who was always willing to FaceTime with me whenever I wanted. But face it, Summer had a life. A real one. Full of boys and friends and parties. And a hot new stepbrother, Mason. Who I could tell she secretly loved.

  So, sigh.

  And sob.

  Though not really. I got sooo into dancing. I mean, I’d been into it before I moved away. But once I moved, it became my life. I did it all the time. And I was … awesome.

  So, there was that. Which was good. Since my blog had exactly one follower. One! And it wasn’t Lydia or Summer. I know, since I didn’t tell them about it. The blog was a secret because I wrote personal stuff on it. Well, and tons of stuff about my favorite band of all time (well, at the time)—Sonny and the locks.

  Oh, how I adored Sonny.

  My follower didn’t adore Sonny though. He quite despised Sonny. (By the way, I like to think my follower is a ‘he.’ The messages sound like a ‘he’ but could be coming from a seventy year-old woman with no teeth for all I know.)

  My follower’s name is ‘IDespiseSonny123.’ He makes me laugh—he did even then, back when he first started posting comments to my posts. Comments that told me how very, very messed up I was to love Sonny.

  IDespiseSonny123’s posts cheered me up when I was sad. He would tell me lame jokes and funny things about his life. I liked to think he was handsome. But really I was just glad he was … there. Listening. Letting me know someone was out there.

  CHAPTER 11

  About a month ago, I had to move in with my dad. I had to because of Noah. Apparently, my mom had sent Noah a text instructing him to tell my dad he no longer had to ‘worry’ about me or my mom interfering in his life. That we would never, ever interfere in it again … and that he’d be sorry. He would realize what he threw away when we were no longer around to ignore.