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

by Melanie Marks

“I hate you.”

  I snarled it all bitter and angry, then I ran away from him, into the crowded student traffic.

  He texted me. “Audrey, can we please get together and talk?”

  I didn’t answer.

  I blocked him from my phone.

  CHAPTER 18

  After that day Dutch started wooing me. Or something. He would leave gifts on my doorstep—food that he made. Himself. Well, according to the notes he would leave with them. (Yes he would leave me love notes.) (And poems.)

  He even showed up in my biology class once and sang me a song. In front of my whole class. Right in the middle of it.

  When my friends from the class asked why I didn’t go for the “hot babe” I told them—loudly—that he was callous and insensitive. He’d heard me (as I planned). He put his hand over his heart, feigning like he was hurt.

  He was a jerk. I should have told them that—loudly.

  That day after my class got out, Dutch was waiting right outside the door. The air whooshed out of me seeing him. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore him. Tried to walk around him as though he wasn’t there. But he blocked my way, “Audrey, can we please talk?”

  He said it all soft and coaxing.

  But just then this guy, Shane, turned the corner and ran into me. He did it at the exact same moment this gorgeous blond sidled up to Dutch and purred in his ear something about kissing, but Dutch’s eyes stayed on me.

  Only now Shane’s eyes were on me too. They twinkled playfully as he smiled, “Sorry, Audrey. Didn’t mean to run into you like that—but you’re standing in the middle of the corridor—kind of dazed.” He grinned playfully, “How come you never look at me that way?” Then he drawled out in the flirty way he has, “I’d die of happiness if you looked at me that way.”

  Dutch’s eyes darted between me and Shane as Shane went on all flirty and playful, “You’ll look at me that way Friday night, though—right? On our date?”

  He kept calling it a “date”—because he was teasing me. But he was just going to help catch me up in our math class, as I’d missed a few days and got behind. Hey, he offered. And I needed the help. Desperately.

  But Dutch took the word “date” to mean romance, I guess. Because when the blond waved her hand in front of Dutch’s face trying to get his attention, he blinked at her. “Sorry, did you say something about a kiss?” Then he added—probably for my benefit, “Did you know back home they call me ‘The Kisser?’”

  The blond laughed, “I bet I know why.”

  Then she kissed him. Long and lingering.

  Oh the pain.

  Ouch.

  Shane gaped at me, “Oh, hey. You look sick. You’re trembling. Are you okay?”

  That made Dutch glance at me quickly, raising his eyebrows.

  I swallowed. “Yeah, I am feeling sick.” Then I forced myself to look up at Shane and smile, though it was totally fake and wobbly. “I’m looking forward to our ‘date’ though,” I told him, then tugged on his arm. “Come on, let’s get to class. The view here is making me nauseous.”

  Dutch texted me: “I make you tremble.”

  I texted back: “You make me nauseous.”

  CHAPTER 19

  So that’s my big story. Why I transferred out of psych class rather than be Dutch’s partner.

  You would probably think I would encourage sweet, fragile Lindsey to stay away from the jerk. And I would. EXCEPT: I prayed about it. Constantly. Prayed to God asking him to be with Lindsey and help her through this difficult time. And I asked Him for guidance on how I could help her.

  … and then Dutch kept popping up.

  Dutch!

  He kept making her happy. Over and over.

  So … maybe Dutch is the answer? I hear God works in mysterious ways. And it’s only this month. I just need to get her through this long, grueling month.

  Besides, face it, Dutch was wrong about what he said about placing Lindsey in the wrong hands. I’d grown up with Dutch. Sure, he was a total tease, but he was also the sweetest, nicest boy you’ll ever meet. He cared about people. He did.

  He was … awesome.

  Well, you know, I used to think so.

  I really still can’t believe what happened between us. It’s beyond shocking that he had taken advantage of me. I mean that sincerely. If someone else told me that he did that I would never, ever believe them. Not ever.

  I guess he just got carried away?—by my brilliant tactics to seduce him. (Shudder.)

  I really don’t know, since I can’t remember. But he’s really decent and religious. So I know he doesn’t go around doing that sort of thing normally. He doesn’t even drink. Or hang out with girls that drink.

  So …

  Yeah, I guess I was super seductive … and we got carried away.

  It’s not something I can forgive. I just can’t. He should have been responsible. He normally is. He’s normally very protective of me. He would punch a guy’s lights out for doing what he did to me.

  So I know under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have done that.

  He just wouldn’t.

  But it kind of hurts (tremendously) that he takes it so lightly. That he thinks food and a song can make up for it. That anything can make up for it.

  And yet, because of our past—and Lindsey’s train-wreck of a month approaching—and because of all my praying—I’m willing to place Lindsey in Dutch’s care. I still trust him to be a good guy. Even now. I just do.

  CHAPTER 20

  Dutch texted me the night after I followed him into the bathroom. “Are you considering our arrangement?”

  I texted back, “I’m thinking it’s a bad idea.”

  “It’s not, Audrey.”

  He texted more right after that, “You just broke up with your boyfriend, right?—Football Fenton? You need a little fun, a little attention, a little … me. And here I am. And I’m agreeing to help your fan-girl friend. I’m going to NOT see any other girl for a whole month. I’m going to treat your friend like a princess. I will buy her gifts, compliment her hair, take her shoe shopping, fetch her newspaper. And all you have to do is spend time with me … you used to like spending time with me.”

  I drew out a breath. “You used to be nice.”

  He immediately texted back: “I’m STILL nice. I’ll be so nice.”

  Then he texted: “I’m right outside your door, by the way.”

  What???

  “I saw your friend leave. Let me in, Audrey.”

  I bite on my lip.

  “Come on. You weren’t shy about following me into the bathroom tonight. Pretend your apartment is the boy’s bathroom.”

  Trembles ignite through me. “I thought you were ‘booked’ for the night.”

  “Look, I changed my plans for you, okay? I’m willing to admit that, Audrey. You have me wrapped around your finger. You follow me into the bathroom … I follow you anywhere.”

  Hesitantly I open the door for him.

  Dutch hands me a box of chocolates with a card attached. It says, “We had a weird night. But I swear, there’s no need to fight.”

  I want to throw the box at him, and stuff his card up his nose.

  I snarl. “You are calloused and insensitive! You’re a total jerk. You never even apologized about that night. Geez, Dutch, I could have been pregnant!”

  His brow furrows. “What?! Wait, not by me.”

  I glare at him. “I woke in the bed—naked.”

  “Yeah. But that was you, Audrey. I mean, you did that—took off your clothes. And I couldn’t put them back on you—for obvious reasons. I mean, I couldn’t even get close to you, ‘cause if I did I was afraid I’d do the total opposite of trying to coax you back into your clothes. But I couldn’t leave you in the room like that—drunk and saying the things you were.”

  My breath hitches and I immediately go up in flames.

  I jerk my head up at him. “Wh—what was I saying?”

  He grins slightly. “Well, not clean stuff.
”

  “But I woke up naked, next to you.”

  “No-o you didn’t. You woke up naked, yeah. But not next to me. You woke up and I was in the bathroom on my phone—explaining that I was going to be late getting to work. When I came out, you were gone.”

  A tiny grin spreads on his lips. “You thought we—?”

  “Yes!”

  He runs a hand over his face, trying to hide his grin. He groans, “So that’s why you wouldn’t look at me.”

  “Yeah. You were a creep.”

  “Only, I wasn’t. You get that, right?”

  “Well … now.”

  He leans the back of his head against the wall. “This explains so much.”

  He stares up at the ceiling a second, grinning huge. Then he looks back into my eyes. “We didn’t do it, Audrey. We didn’t do anything. You were covered under the blanket. You stayed in the bed, I stayed in the chair—all night.”

  He grins, and recaps it—like it’s this puzzle that he was unable to put together, and he’s amazed that it’s suddenly assembled, and he kind of can’t believe it. “You thought I had sex with you? That’s why you were so cold to me?—I mean, I thought I was going to freeze to death just walking past you in the school hallways.”

  I’m incredibly relieved to learn all of this. Of course.

  But I’m also humiliated and embarrassed. I mean, come on, I’d gotten naked in front of him. Who does that??? Not me.

  I want to die.

  I stammer out, “So that’s why you used to wince whenever you saw me last summer after it happened?—you were embarrassed for me?”

  His eyelids close. “I feel there is no right answer for that.”

  “Give it a try.”

  “No. Everything will come out wrong. If I say it was because I was embarrassed for you—you’ll be embarrassed and offended. If I say it was because I was trying not to picture you as I saw you that night—also not going to come off well. I’m claiming the fifth.”

  “Okay, well, thank you for the chocolates, and the pizza, but I’m very embarrassed and your non-answer is in no way helping with that. So, I’m going to take the pizza and the chocolates and then I’m going to close the door and devour them. Alone.”

  He nods. “Fair enough.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Dutch texted me right before I went to bed. “Are you considering our arrangement?”

  I texted back exactly what I had before: “I’m thinking it’s a bad idea.”

  “It’s not, Audrey.”

  Our conversation was going exactly the same as earlier. That’s probably why he copied and pasted exactly what he had before, only he changed the word “attention” to “kissing” in his message. I know because the word “kissing” had me going up in flames.

  He resent: “You just broke up with your boyfriend, right?—Football Fenton? You need a little fun, a little kissing, a little … me. And here I am. And I’m agreeing to help your fan-girl friend. I’m going to NOT see any other girl for a whole month. I’m going to treat your friend like a princess. I will buy her gifts, compliment her hair, take her shoe shopping, fetch her newspaper. And all you have to do is spend time with me … you used to like spending time with me.”

  I drew out a breath. “You used to not kiss the entire school’s female population.”

  He immediately texted back: “I won’t kiss anyone but you for a whole month … unless you want me to kiss your friend. I’m willing to do that for you … but I don’t particularly want to.”

  Me: “Why?”

  “Because she’s your FRIEND, Audrey. I want to date you—not your friend.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You have a weird way of showing you want to date me—by grabbing every girl in sight and kissing their face off.”

  “Hey, you wouldn’t talk to me for over a year—until you followed me into the bathroom to tell me that your friend has the hots for me.”

  After a moment, he went on: “And you’re complaining I kiss other girls? Audrey, you started a relationship with a guy right in front of me. And then you went on to date—then promptly drop—and break the hearts—of two jocks, a guitarist and a dweeb.”

  I raised my eyebrows, my stomach dropping. “You’re keeping tabs???”

  “Yes.”

  To be fair, those guys were just short-lived experiments. I was just trying to get Dutch out of my head.

  I sighed. “Look, I’ll have to think about it. I mean, if you started seeing me while you were seeing her … that would be like you were cheating on her … right?”

  “I don’t know, Audrey. Since the whole thing is FAKE.”

  “Right.” I drew in a breath. “So … are you trying to talk me out of it?”

  “Yes. Because I want to date YOU, Audrey.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it.”

  “You never gave me a chance, Audrey.”

  My heart twisted, and my eyes filled with tears. It was true. I had been totally unfair to him all this year. Totally didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. Though I should have. Of course. It’s just that everything had seemed so crystal clear of what happened—I mean, I was naked. (Groan.)

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get that gem of a memory out of my head. Shuddering, I texted: “Okay, well I’m going to stop talking to you now.”

  “Yeah. Big shock. That’s your usual now, Audrey.”

  His words were like a slap in the face. But I really did need to stop talking to him and actually seriously think about the “deal.” On the one hand, of course I would enjoy getting his attention for a whole month. (I’d enjoy it wayyy too much, in fact.) And it would be nice for Lindsey to get Dutch’s attention too. She’s been so down, and Dutch is fun and can really cheer a person up. And he can be sweet and make a girl feel … amazing. Spectacular.

  It’s just, well, the deception of it all. I mean, it had seemed different when I had followed Dutch into the bathroom with my proposal. His counter-proposal sort of ruined the whole great idea for me. Now it seemed … wrong.

  Okay, probably it had always been wrong—right from the beginning. Though my heart had been in the right place. I just wanted to help Lindsey out. Make her happy.

  But the arrangement didn’t seem like it would do that now—make her happy. Not in the end. I mean, before I was just thinking about the month—getting Lindsey through this month. Get her through the gloominess. And meeting Dutch had made her so happy.

  So, in a way, it still seemed like a good idea, but …

  Dutch texted more: “I’m going to keep dating girls until you tell me to stop.”

  Then he texted, almost pleading, “… tell me to stop, Audrey.”

  CHAPTER 22

  A week went by without me talking to Dutch. Or texting him. Or emailing him. Not telling him that the deal was off … or on. He was “dating” every cheerleader at our university it seemed—or at least deeply kissing them. So, it didn’t really seem like he really wanted to go through with the deal anyway; or, you know, could even manage it. (Look, you can’t take guy’s words or pleadings too seriously. Not when they are players. You need to take that into account—they’re players. They play you. Toss sweet words at you. Make your heart twist and yearn for them. It’s part of the game. The way they “play.”)

  It bites.

  CHAPTER 23

  Monday Lindsey came home all excited. So thrilled and happy. It had me jumping up and down with her, though I had no idea why we were bouncing.

  “Trevor and I got back together!” she gushed.

  I stopped bouncing, my heart sinking. That didn’t seem like a good idea—getting involved with Trevor again. Trevor was a huge part of the reason Lindsey had her moment of “gloom.”

  She seemed to read my mind.

  “No, it’s not like that, Audrey,” she assured me without me saying a word. “I’m over that. It was depression. I have pills for it. And a therapist.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, so worried for her. “Does your thera
pist think it’s a good idea?”

  “Well, no—not at this time. But she gave me a lot of good advice. And—and well, I think it’s a good idea. I love him so much. And he loves me. He said he was miserable while we were apart, and it ate away at him that I ended up at the hospital, and that it made him see that he can’t live without me.”

  I winced at her words.

  She laughed nervously, “Well, not literally. We can live without each other. Duh. Totally. But we’re happier with each other. It’s all good. And healthy.”

  I squeezed my arms around my waist, not exactly reassured. But Trevor is a nice guy. Not a player. And he makes her happy.

  In fact, she was bouncing off the walls.

  So … I tried to relax.

  After all, this was no worse than the crazy plan I’d cooked up for her. Right??

  Right?

  Lindsey squeezed my arm gently. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere, Audrey.”

  I nodded and tried to smile, “Good to know.”

  The thing was, I knew I needed to trust God. I’d prayed and prayed that things would work out for Lindsey. Maybe this was the answer. After all, I’d felt at peace after my prayers. Like things would work out.

  So, maybe Dutch wasn’t the answer after all. Since when I prayed that night, I felt hugged again. Like things would work out for Lindsey.

  I knew I just needed to trust God.

  There was nothing else I could do.

  CHAPTER 24

  During my (dull) economics class I sneak a text to Dutch, “You’ll be happy to know the deal is off.”

  Dutch: “Aw, I was looking forward to it.”

  My heart does a little flutter. (Stupid heart.) I text back flippantly, though my heart is still all twisty, and probably will be for the rest of the day: “Well, I guess you’ll have to survive without me.”

  “I don’t want to.”