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

by Melanie Marks

  I nod. “Thanks for the rose,” I tell him.

  … but it’s more for Becca’s benefit.

  I can’t help enjoying her wobbly frown as she leads him away.

  It’s not exactly pleasant having your boyfriend show interest in another girl, is it Becca?

  Ha! Karma!

  Well, sort of. I mean, she doesn’t know what our conversation was about.

  That it ripped out my heart.

  I can’t help smiling though when I overhear Grady tell her, “Let’s take my car, okay? No offense, but yours reeks.”

  “Oh I know!” Becca groans in dismay. She sounds embarrassed and tortured. “It’s like my car suddenly has insanely bad BO.”

  Or more like a rotting onion tucked in the back seat.

  Happy Valentines Day, Becca. May it smell as bad as your car.

  CHAPTER 42

  Believe it on not, once upon a time Grady and my roles were reversed. He had liked me more than I liked him. See, Grady and I had been best friends since elementary school. I loved him to death … but only as a friend. It was Smith that I had loved, always. Always, always, always. Not that Grady knew. Or Smith. I was a tomboy and didn’t like to admit that I had girlie feelings. The guys would tease me. Couldn’t have that. Besides, I knew Smith didn’t see me like that—romantically. He was super cool and I was just glad he was my friend, but I was never a ‘top tier’ friend of Smith’s. I was just the girl across the street that he would play video games and superheroes with, and mostly just because my mom was babysitting him. So, really, I was more like a sister to him. A younger sister—though we were the same age.

  And then, right before we started middle school Smith’s mom married some rich guy and they moved away. Not far away. Still in town and everything, but in a ritzy neighborhood. So, when middle school started I didn’t see much of Smith. Just admired him from afar, and he would give me a little wave when he saw me watching him, or would ruffle up my hair if he saw me in the halls. We were still friends … just distant ones now. He had always been popular, but in middle school he became rock-star popular. It wasn’t just because now he was rich, and good at sports, and that kind of stuff. He grew … mouth-watering, drop-dead gorgeous.

  It killed me that he now had cheerleaders fighting over him. (Literally.) It made me lose the little hope I’d always tucked away deeply in my longing heart, that someday, somehow, he would open his eyes and see me differently—not just as his little buddy, or little sister or whatever, but as an actual girl. One that he would like to date. But when we got to middle school I realized that wasn’t going to happen. The competition had always been steep for his attention, but now it was fierce. And now I also didn’t have the geographical advantage of living right across the street. Now all I had in my favor was fond memories for him. Like, he would always smile at me affectionately when he saw me in the halls and say, “How are you doing, Wonder Woman?” And he would tell anyone within earshot that my mom made the best cookies ever—and that I could kick his butt in video games. I was a memory. Not ever going to grow up in his mind.

  It was fine. I could deal with that. It wasn’t like I’d really ever believed he would love me back. Meanwhile, I had Grady. My best friend. We would play video games every day after school and come up with ideas to make our own, better ones, and we were forever making ‘mock-umentaries’ about the games. They were sort of like “documentaries” but they were funny, and just done in jest, and they cracked us up. It was us “mocking” ourselves, and the games—and documentaries. We were hilarious—we thought. We had lots of fun together. I loved him … just not the same way I loved Smith.

  But I guess maybe Grady’s heart was pining away for me. I didn’t know it at the time though—I thought we were on the same page, just good friends. But I guess in reality it was like my relationship for Smith—secrete pining, while friend zoned.

  My crush on Smith came to a frantic head on a freezing cold day at the park. I was ice-skating there with my youth group on the frozen pond, and I noticed Smith out in the distance, playing football with some of his friends, which was crazy in the snow, but they liked to do it.

  When Smith had noticed me skating around, watching him, he had waved at me and shouted, “Nice moves Wonder Woman!”

  All the girls in the group had looked at me in wondrous awe. “That was Smith Cross wasn’t it?” they gasped. “Did he call you Wonder Woman?!”

  “Yeah,” the nick-name was a long story, I didn’t bother to explain, since I figured their version of how he dubbed me that would be more romantic and exciting than the real reason, though face it, I was pretty darn pleased with the real reason anyway. After all, he’d always let me be Wonder Woman, even when there had always been tons of girls clamoring for the title.

  Anyway, that was all the interaction I had with Smith that day, though I skated extra fancy—just in case he was watching me. But then—Crack! While I was off skating further away from the group, I started to fall through the suddenly cracking ice. Panicked, I tried my hardest to skate to safety, but no! I was abruptly plunged into the icy water, terrified and freezing, and sure I was going to die.

  Immediately a panicked crowd was buzzing around, looking for a branch, or something to pull me out of the freezing water with. Everyone was in a panic, trying to figure out what they should do. Meanwhile, I was clinging to a bobbing patch of ice, drowning!

  But then from out of nowhere Smith came rushing over. He quickly took off his belt and latched the buckle part to the metal hook on the flagpole right next to the pond. He held on to the belt like a rope while he practically jumped into the freezing water himself, but not all the way. He tightly held on to the belt to keep from plunging all the way into the freezing water with me, where he would sink and soon drawn right along with me. Instead he held on the belt while he laid down, his body more than half in the water as he stretched out his legs to me.

  “Grab on to my legs, Mandy,” he told me, looking just as worried for me as everyone else, yet he said it calmly, like trying to soothe me (like Superman, coming to the rescue).

  Shivering and shaking, I did as Smith said. I climbed on to Smith and he pulled me to safety.

  He saved my life!

  That sure didn’t help me get over my crush on him. In fact, it made all my crush-y feelings for him zoom up a hundred-thousand notches. I became obsessed, basically.

  He was my real-life superhero, and became the star of this romantic superhero comic book I immediately started writing called, “Adventures of Smith Cross,” where in every episode he romantically saved my life time and time again. And declared his love to me over and over. And kissed me passionately.

  Yeah, mushy stuff.

  Then one day while Grady was at my house he found the book, and seemed hurt. He turned all white. “You have a crush on Smith?”

  He sounded so hurt. “Um, yeah. Sort of,” I admitted.

  Grady flinched. His tortured, haunted eyes darted back to the book. “This makes it look like you like him a lot.” He raised his eyebrows, “—not just ‘sort of.’”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  Grady squeezed his eyes shut as I said that. A tiny moan slipped from his lips. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

  He had a sad little frown on his usually smiling lips. “I have to go,” he said suddenly.

  I tilted my head, totally perplexed. “B—but we were going to work on our new game.”

  “I know,” he said. He ran a hand through his perfect shaggy hair as though about to rip it out. He peeked at me, then away. “But—but I forgot I told my mom I would, uh, do something for her—I have to go. Right now.”

  I watched him quickly leave, not understanding what happened.

  After thinking about it a lot, I realized the book made him sad. I got the sinking feeling maybe Grady was jealous or something. I quickly texted him, “Just because I like Smith doesn’t mean I like you any less.”

  But after that, it was like Grady l
iked me less—or anyway, he was trying to. He would make up reasons to not come over to my house anymore, and then I found out he was suddenly dating Chloe Madden. Chloe Madden!!! And he hadn’t even told me.

  It was like a punch in the gut. We had been best friends forever, then suddenly, just because he found out I had a crush on Smith, he started avoiding me, and dating. Got his very first girlfriend—and hadn’t even told me about it. Me! His best friend.

  I was hurt. And felt abandoned. But Chloe was one mean chick, so I didn’t even try to hang out with Grady anymore. Anytime I even started talking to him she would shoot me daggers with her eyes, like: ‘Stay away from my property.’

  It hurt that he was suddenly somebody else’s property. And it made me quickly realize I’d taken Grady for granted. I’d never really, truly thought about how special our friendship was … until I didn’t have it anymore.

  It was lonely not having my best friend, but I got over it, pretty much. I mean, what else could I do? He had a girlfriend now. One that hated me, it seemed. So, I started hanging out with Nicole, Sara, and Kayla more. They were fun, and I was glad I had them. But I missed Grady.

  However, meanwhile, I also had my mad crush on Smith to keep me busy. I mean, there was all this fantasizing to do, and stories to write, and pictures of him to draw.

  Also, he became my lab partner in Biology class, so that was awesome. We were both hopelessly lost in the class, but we had a lot of fun joking around and talking about video games and he even (gasp!) came over to my house a couple of times to play Zombie Hunter with me, since I was ahead of him in the game and could give him pointers. It was almost like old times, only kind of better because I knew he was coming over of his own accord and not just because his mom needed him to be babysat. I mean, he actually had to get a ride over to my house … not just walk across the street.

  I was totally in heaven. Except I missed Grady … and he seemed to miss me too. I’d see him watching me, even while he was holding beautiful Chloe, but I’d just look away from him now. After all, he dumped me as a friend, not the other way around. And I wasn’t going to beg him to come back to me anymore, so I just tried to act like I didn’t care. It hurt, but … well, what ya going to do? I tried to move on with my life. Move on without my best friend. (Sob!)

  Anyway, Smith and I were getting close again. So, I tried to just be happy about that. Then one day in Biology class, I realized I forgot my lab notes in my locker.

  “I can go get them for you,” Smith offered. “You can keep working, since you’re the brains of this partnership.”

  I had snorted, “If that’s true, we’re in trouble.”

  Smith grinned, “Then I guess we’re in trouble.”

  I quickly wrote down my locker combination for him. After all, I had no worries Smith was going to ever break into my locker. I could only wish for him to stalk me enough to do that. (Dreamy sigh.)

  Only … it was weird.

  When Smith came back from my locker, he seemed different—distant. He silently put my notes on my desk without looking at me, or saying a word.

  I could tell something was wrong, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what. Knots tightened in my stomach as I wondered what on earth could have happened in that tiny little bit of time that he was gone that could made him go from smiling and joking around with me, to seeming completely ill-at-ease and not seeming like he could get away from me fast enough.

  … then I found out.

  After class when I opened my locker—ugh!—the notebook fell out. You know the notebook I’m talking about, right? “The Adventures of Smith Cross.”

  Ugh!

  So, yeah, he probably saw the notebook when he got my lab notes. Since it was right up front. And probably leapt out at him—like it did me.

  Awesome. (Not.)

  After that day, Smith avoided me. He was probably afraid I was going to start hiding in the boy’s locker room so I could see him undress. Or going to chain him up while he slept and make off with him. Hide him in a secluded cabin in the woods, with all the windows boarded, so it would be just the two of us—him and me—forever.

  Needless to say, Smith immediately changed lab partners. He had rubbed the back of his neck when he noticed me about to cry upon learning that he had made the request.

  He had winced, then murmured softly, so gentle, “Mandy, you wouldn’t want to be my partner anyway. I’m a dope in this class.”

  It was more like I was a dope. If I hadn’t let him go to my locker, he would have never known about my gigantic, psychotic crush on him, and we could have gone on being friends forever. But now it was ruined. Because now he knew. And it obviously repulsed him. Or anyway, scared him. Actually terrified him—since he never even looked at me again. Like even just a little wave might lead me on.

  Heartache.

  I guess I moped around quite a bit—what with losing my best friend and my fanatical crush, all in one year. I must have been quite mopey because my mom actually broke down and bought me drums. Yay!

  I took all my heartache and frustrations out on those drums. It seemed I played every moment of the day I was home—for over a year. I thought I was getting pretty good. Well, as good as a person can get when they had absolutely no idea what they were doing. I mean, I’d watch instructional videos on the web, but I felt I needed an actual teacher.

  One day I timidly went up to the school’s band teacher. I figured he wouldn’t actually want me in his band, since everyone else there had been playing since they were little kids. And were awesome. But I wanted private lessons, so I could catch up. When I told him this, he seemed to think it was a good idea. But then I added, “Only, I don’t have very much money for lessons.”

  After all, mom had used all our extra money to pay for the drums.

  Mr. Fritz, rubbed his chin, thinking about it, then he seemed to have a great idea. “I’ll have one of my advanced students teach you.”

  My eyes lit up—that could be Smith. He was advanced. Though he spent a lot more time playing with his own band, than our school band. Still, I inwardly said a prayer, praying for this to be an opportunity to make up with Smith. Let him see that I wasn’t psycho and deranged. That I was still just me, his harmless little buddy … and we could start playing video games again, and I could watch him play the drums again, and …

  Mr. Fritz took my number and promised he would ask around and get one of his students to teach me. Then later that night, he called saying one of his students agreed and would come to my house the next day around five.

  I had closed my eyes, hoping beyond hope that it would be Smith that showed up at my house.

  But that’s not who came.

  … it was Grady.

  CHAPTER 43

  I had been shocked to see Grady at my door. At first I didn’t realize he was there to teach me my beloved drums. I didn’t have a clue why he was there. I was just thrilled to see him. Only it was awkward. I mean, things were so different between us now. Him, with his snooty girlfriend. Me, trying to act like I didn’t care. Like my heart wasn’t broken and I didn’t miss him terribly.

  … also, there was the fact Smith might be showing up at any moment.

  “Grady …?” I stammered out, blinking at him. Shocked that now—suddenly, out of nowhere—he decided to choose this minute to come to my house. The minute I might get to see Smith (though really, deep down, I knew Smith wouldn’t be the one to come. He didn’t even look at me these days, there was no way he was coming to my house). Still I just blinked at Grady. “What are you doing here?”

  He grinned slightly. “Mr. Fitz said you needed a drum teacher.”

  “Right …?”

  He raised his eyebrows, “Hi. I’m your new drum teacher.”

  I gaped at him. “I didn’t even know you played the drums.”

  He nodded, “I know.”

  I knew Grady took “music” lessons every Monday and Wednesday, had for years. I just didn’t realize it was the drums he was tak
ing lessons for. Whenever I asked him about the lessons, he’d just shrug and be evasive and murmur, “I’m working on a couple of different instruments.”

  I used to think he was so evasive about it because he knew I wanted to learn the drums so bad, and here he was getting to take music lessons twice a week and learn a bunch of different instruments while I didn’t even get to learn the one. But I thought his “instruments” were like, the piano and violin and stuff. I mean, I knew he played those. The only reason Grady wasn’t in the school band was because his class schedule wouldn’t allow it. (Grady’s really, really smart.)

  But the thing was, I thought he never talked about his music lessons with me because he felt sorry for me. His family was rich. Well, compared to me and my mom. He only lived two houses away, but those two houses were like night and day. Mine was a tiny little duplex. His, in comparison, was like a castle. (Actually, the further you go up the street, the nicer the houses get.) Mine and Smith’s old house was like the boarder line, things got relatively fancy once you passed our eyesores.

  Anyway, my point is, I didn’t know Grady played the drums, and I thought he never really talked about his lessons and all the ‘instruments’ he played was because he didn’t want to rub it in. But now I wasn’t so sure.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me you played the drums?”

  A little smile hovered on his lips. “I knew you wanted to play them. I thought when I was good enough I’d surprise you. And teach you.”

  He grins, “Surprise.”

  My stomach did a little loop.

  I brought him up to my room and showed him my drum-set. Then I watched him in awe as he rocked out on my drums.

  Yowza!!

  I truly love me drummers.

  CHAPTER 44

  After that drum lesson sparks flew between Grady and me. But I figured it was mostly my imagination, since he was now dating the most beautiful girl in our whole school—Chloe. Served me right, I guess. I’d blown my chance with him back when he realized I had my stupid hopeless infatuation with Smith.