Love Hate

by Ruth Houston

  Love Hate

  Ruth Houston

  PROLOGUE

  OK, I admit it. I'm in love with him... my Mum's best friend's son! Bad right? Worse. He's come to stay at my house for an entire month! And it doesn't help that he's an arrogant ass or the fact that my stepsister wants him too... Save me?

  CHAPTER ONE

  So I would love to start this story with a sentence like, oh I don't know…

  Once upon a time, a beautiful girl with no cares in the world awoke slowly, fluttering her gorgeous long eyelashes at the ceiling for a moment or two before rolling onto her side and staring contently out at the peaceful world beyond her window.

  … But, regretfully, I can't.

  Instead, I have to start it with this.

  "Amber Jones! You get up this minute, young lady!"

  I sat bolt upright with a loud, unflattering snort, my puffy eyes jerked wide awake by the shrill tone of my mother.

  Running my fingers through my knotty, un-brushed hair and blinking furiously to get used to the bright light that shone in from my windows, I turned slowly to face Mum, who stood in my bedroom doorway, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed in fury.

  "Whassthematter?" I mumbled, suppressing a wide yawn as I stretched.

  "What's the matter? What's the matter?" shrieked Mum, throwing her hands in the air for added exasperation.

  "That's what I just asked," I muttered under my breath, not game enough to let Mum hear me when she was in such a furious, throat-ripping state.

  "Have you forgotten what today is?" Mum exclaimed.

  I narrowed one eye for a moment in thought. "Um… I guess so…" I said slowly.

  Mum's eyes flashed dangerously. "Today is the day that your Aunt Marie and her kids come over!" she reminded me.

  I groaned audibly. "Don't I have school today?" I asked hopefully, for I would rather take on hours of unexplainable boredom then have to face Aunt Marie – who isn't truly my Aunt, mind you – and her kids.

  Mum glowered at me. "Get. Up. And. Get. Dressed," she spat through gritted teeth before turning and slamming the door on the way out causing my window panes to rattle.

  I winced as I threw the bedclothes off me and slid to the floor, the cold bare wood biting at my feet. I crossed the room to my mirror to see what I had to work with this morning.

  Again, I wish I didn't have to explain myself to you in such a way. I don't exactly like being the person who makes people's eyes pop out at their computer screens.

  Well, I guess I can't really escape telling you what I looked like in the morning for too much longer.

  My usually straight, shoulder-length light brown hair stood at least two inches off my scalp in a large ball of frizzy mess. My blue eyes glinted out sleepily from my red-rimmed, puffy eyes. My pajama top was hanging off my slim frame and my baggy pants were hanging halfway down my butt. To top off the picture, I had a trail of dried spit leading from the corner of my mouth to my chin.

  'Lovely,' I thought sarcastically, frowning at the mirror and tugging at a strand of my hair. 'Oh well, better get started.'

  With one last resigned look at the mirror, I turned and walked over to my wardrobe, throwing the doors open and contemplating my outfit choices.

  Hmm… Aunt Marie and her kids that I haven't seen since I was six years old… what to wear? What to wear?

  Should I go for the sophisticated look with a knee-length pencil skirt and my white blouse and little-to-no make-up? No, that would look like I was trying to impress them, which I wasn't.

  How about a punk look with a skull-print top and skinny-leg jeans and heavy eyeliner? No, I wouldn't want to scare them off… yet.

  A teeny-bopper look, then? Short skirt, revealing top and lots of make-up? No, I wouldn't be caught dead in that.

  Finally, I settled on a white shirt with a low cut V-neck that had Choose Love written in pink lettering across the middle and dark skinny jeans.

  I walked into my en-suite and stared into the mirror at my hair, wondering how on Earth I was supposed to negotiate all the knots out. Sighing, I grabbed a brush and hacked at my hair, only succeeding in ripping half my hair out. After seventeen years of being alive with my hair, why hadn't I learnt that ripping at my hair never worked?

  Moaning in pain, I grabbed a bottle of conditioner, squirted some into my palm and rubbed it through my hair. I then continued to comb my hair slowly, smoothing out the knots. After washing the conditioner out, I towel-dried my hair and scrunched it up slightly as it was still drying so as to obtain waves in my locks.

  Before leaving my bedroom I applied a small amount of eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss. I smiled at my reflection, marveling at my transformation from homeless bum to just a regular girl.

  Feeling better now that I had woken up, I skipped out of my room and all the way downstairs. I bounced into the kitchen, grinning brightly at my moody step-sister, Veronica.

  Veronica and I shared a, what you say, love-hate relationship. Not to make her out to be a bitch or anything like that, but she just loved to bring me down at her every chance while I thrived on pushing her buttons and getting under her nails like an annoying piece of dirt that just wouldn't budge.

  "Good morning, dear Veronica," I said happily in a sing-song voice.

  "It was a good morning… until you got here that is," Veronica sniped, glaring at me.

  I beamed in an overly-happy way at her and said, "Oh, Veronica, it makes me so happy when you're so ecstatic to see me! Usually people tend to be moody first thing in the morning but you… you just light up a room with your optimism!"

  Veronica grumbled a few choice swear words before returning to her magazine.

  Smiling to myself, I turned and grabbed a box of cereal out of the cupboard and began to make breakfast. A couple of minutes later I slid onto one of the stools that surrounded the kitchen bench and began to eat.

  Just as I took my first bite, however, the kitchen door swung open. I looked up, expecting to see Mum or David – my step dad – walking through the door, but instead, I saw –

  "Amber, Veronica, welcome your Aunt Marie and her kids Gabrielle and Tristan," Mum announced, smiling.

  After this short introduction, a couple of things happened that I wasn't too proud of.

  Upon looking at Aunt Marie, Tristan and Gabrielle – or rather, just ogling at Tristan – my jaw dropped, exposing half-chewed cereal and causing a steady stream of milk to drip down my chin. My hand suddenly relaxed and my spoon slid from my grasp, landing in my half-full bowl and sending milk droplets flying everywhere.

  I shut my mouth and blinked furiously, trying to rid my eyes from the stinging milk. Looking up through narrowed, burning eyes I saw a range of different expressions from the party that had just witnessed this little uncoordinated act.

  Mum was looking at me with a mixture of disapproval and anger, probably for the fact that her freshly-cleaned kitchen floor and bench-top was now splattered with milk. Aunt Marie looked sympathetic for some reason that I couldn't quite grasp whilst thirteen-year-old Gabrielle looked confused at my behavior. Veronica was smirking at me, obviously for the fact that I had just made a total idiot out of myself in front of Tristan. Said boy was looking at me with a slight frown yet a small smile tugged at his lips.

  As I looked up at Tristan for the second time, my jaw threatened to go slack once again. The fact was: he was simply gorgeous.

  His longish black hair sat in that deliberately messy, totally hot style, the fringe reaching just above his glittering deep green eyes that were framed by dark eyelashes. He was wearing a three-quarter sleeve shirt unbuttoned at the front, exposing the dark T-shirt he wore underneath and dark jeans. Even the way he stood was completely stunning. The way he leant slightly to the left with his hands in his pocke
ts and an extremely adorable smile curling his lips was extremely attractive.

  "Ahem… Amber, you remember Tristan, don't you?" Mum said suddenly. "You used to play naked in his paddling pool."

  Oh, God Mum. I could die from embarrassment.

  CHAPTER TWO

  "Anyway, get ready you two," Mum told Veronica and I.

  "Get ready for what?" I heard Veronica ask as I glared into my cereal, too embarrassed and angry at Mum to look up.

  "We're going to Kingstone Park to let Marie, Tristan and Gabrielle have a look around their new neighborhood."

  New neighborhood? Great, not only have I just made a complete idiot out of myself in front of Tristan today, I'll now be able to continue being a loser every time I see him! Perfect, I thought sarcastically.

  "New neighborhood?" I heard Veronica repeat, her voice lined with a curiosity that could only mean she was now interested in Tristan because she could possibly get in his pants. "Where's your new house?"

  "Well, it isn't finished at the moment but it's up on Suncrest Avenue," Aunt Marie answered.

  I propped my head on my hand and spun my spoon around in the bowl, my eyes still downcast, as the polite conversation continued.

  "Where will you be staying until it's done?" Veronica asked.

  "Oh, didn't I tell you?" Mum's surprised voice cut in before Aunt Marie could reply. "They're staying here for a month until their house is done."

  OK. If anything, that last sentence made me look up. Not only that, this also caused my hand to slip out from underneath my head, sending my head flying down with a crack to hit the bench top. To top this off, I began to choke on my spit as I righted my pounding head.

  "Cough They're staying splutter here for a choke entire month?" I choked out, my eyes watering as I cleared my throat.

  Oh God, save me! I cried inwardly.

  "Amber, don't sound so horrified," hissed Mum angrily before hitching a plastic smile on her face. "Yes, they are. Tristan and Gabrielle will be going to your school too. Anyway, go get ready for the park."

  There's no way I'm spending an hour or two driving around the neighbourhood squashed in a car with them, especially after that little horrifying introduction, I thought.

  I mentally cast around for some sort of perfect excuse not to go to the park – which is very hard considering I was trying my hardest not to glance at Tristan and lose myself in his brilliant green eyes.

  Finally, I spluttered, "I can't go. I, er, have an assignment… that's due tomorrow." I smiled innocently at Mum, begging her silently to play dumb for once and not catch me with my lie.

  "Really?" Veronica said suddenly, turning to me with an evil flashing in her eyes that resembled that of a snake's expression when it's about to sink it's fangs into its prey. "Tomorrow?"

  I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously as I nodded slowly.

  "Tomorrow being… Monday?"

  Again, I nodded, my brain working overtime to try and figure out what she was up to.

  "Monday being a public holiday?" Veronica's fang-like teeth glittered as her lips drew back in a 'I-so-caught-you' kind of smile.

  "Oh, right, I… er…" My cheeks burned as I caught Tristan snickering slightly at me. "Um… Well, it's due on Tuesday then. You know how bad I am with dates… especially when the holidays are just ending."

  Mum sighed. "Fine, you can stay then," she muttered.

  I stuck my tongue out secretly at Veronica and she rolled her eyes in response before her eyes flashed again and she turned to Mum.

  "I can't go either, Mum." Veronica stole a quick glance at me, knowing how I hated when she called my mother 'Mum'. "I've got to go over Sarah's house to study for the History exam tomorrow… oh, I mean, on Tuesday." She giggled.

  I rolled my eyes and stared at my exasperated mum as she said, "Fine! I'll take these three with David!"

  "Actually, Wendy," Aunt Marie began and Mum rounded on her, "With my dog Harrison, one of us will have to sit out."

  "I will."

  I frowned, wondering where the unfamiliar, male voice had come from before I realised it was Tristan who had spoken.

  "Are you sure, Tristan?" Mum asked. "I'm sure David wouldn't mind staying home."

  Tristan shrugged. "It's alright. I don't mind. I can always go later with Amber or Veronica."

  Mum sighed. "OK then, if your sure, we'd better be off."

  With that, Aunt Marie, Mum and Gabrielle left.

  I was overcome with a sudden wave of embarrassment and snatched up my bowl and carried it over to the sink. I began to rinse it off when Veronica started to speak.

  "So, Tristan, how old are you?"

  With my back turned to the pair, I was able to roll my eyes and mime what she said with my face scrunched up. Childish, I know, but it does feel good.

  "Seventeen, same as Amber," Tristan replied and I heard a chair scrape back and him sit down on it.

  "So you two have known each other since you were little?" Veronica asked.

  "We haven't seen each other since we were six," I suddenly said, turning around to face them.

  My cheeks flushed slightly as Tristan turned his sparkling gaze on me.

  "But you saw her naked in your paddling pool," Veronica said before adding in a stage-whisper, "I feel for you, Tristan, I really do. It must have been horrible."

  Tristan smirked and said, "Actually, no, for a six-year-old she had a pretty good body."

  Oh, gag, please don't tell me that was his attempt at humour, I thought, barely being able to suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Maybe this guy isn't that good after all.

  Veronica made a strange noise in her throat and rose to her feet. "Well, see you later then, Tristan. I'm off to meet Sarah's incredibly hot cousin… oh, I mean, 'study'." She giggled before twinkling her fingers at Tristan and leaving the kitchen.

  I groaned inwardly. Sometimes that girl could be more painful than was bearable.

  Suddenly, I became aware of Tristan's gaze upon me. I fidgeted uncomfortably.

  "Would you like a drink or something?" I asked, trying to play 'good host'.

  Tristan shrugged. "No thanks."

  Silence.

  Well, isn't he a great conversation-maker, I thought sarcastically, tapping my fingers on the bench top behind me.

  "So, erm, are you coming to Black Ridge High?" I said finally.

  "Yep."

  Again… silence.

  Whatever, I tried, I thought, making my way for the kitchen door.

  "Where you going?" I heard Tristan ask suddenly from behind me.

  "Um… I've got to do that assignment," I said, turning around to face him again. "Well, er, make yourself at home, I guess. The lounge room's down the hall and to your left… you can watch TV if you want…"

  "I think I'll manage to entertain myself," Tristan said.

  "OK." I turned to walk out and caught him muttering, "God this is a hole."

  I clenched my teeth angrily but decided to ignore that little comment and go to my room silently.

  OK, so I had an antisocial (or at least, antisocial with me), arrogant jerk with lame-ass jokes staying at my house for a month! And he was coming to my school as well!

  Joy. Please note the sarcasm in that last word.

  Could things get any worse?

  Apparently, things could get a lot worse.

  * * *

  "Amber! Dinner!"

  I cringed at my mother's summons, not wanting to emerge from the sanctuary of my bedroom, where I had resided for the past three hours, blissfully undisturbed. Well, blissfully undisturbed apart from the time when Tristan had come blundering in having mistaken my bedroom for the bathroom which was, in fact, down the hall.

  To my complete and utter embarrassment, Tristan had found me halfway through getting changed. Therefore, the door had flung open while I was standing in the middle of my room clad in my lacy pink bra (Mum had bought it for me and it was the only clean bra I had left, OK?) and denim shorts.

  "Oh my G
od!" I had shrieked, throwing my arms to cover my chest and running to cower behind my desk of drawers.

  Tristan, to my horror, had stood in the doorway for a few moments as though stunned by what he had seen before seeming to recover, smirking and saying, "Thanks for the show."

  He then walked out of my bedroom, leaving me blushing furiously and wishing he would just crawl under a rock and never come out.

  So, let's just say I wasn't exactly keen to face him again… ever. Even if that meant locking myself in my bedroom, absolutely refusing to come out until the month was over. Or I could just move towns.

  Too dramatic? Oh well, that's me.

  "AMBER!!!!!!!" The scream made the house shake right down to its foundations.

  "Alright, alright! I'm coming!" I called glumly, lurching to my feet and heading for the door.

  I opened my bedroom door slightly and stuck my head out into the hallway, looking left and right to see if the coast was clear. As I crept carefully down the hall, however, the door to my right opened and none other than Tristan stepped out in front of me.

  Oh, God, what did I do to deserve this?

  I stopped in my tracks as Tristan had blocked my path to the stairs. Even though I was wearing a band T-shirt that covered my entire chest, I still crossed my arms as though he had X-ray vision.

  Smirking, Tristan's gaze lowered to my chest and I felt utterly exposed.

  "Aw, no lacy pink bra tonight? What a pity," Tristan said, his lip curling.

  I glared at him and found a sudden urge to smack him one right in the face. But because I am a calm, collected young woman, I would never –

  WHAM!

  What was I saying?

  "Ow! What the hell was that for?" Tristan cried, holding his cheek where I had slapped him.

  "Oh, sorry, I slipped," I said sarcastically. "Maybe if you weren't staring at my chest and trying to be funny it wouldn't have happened. Take this as a warning that my hands tend to act of their own accord when someone makes indecent comments!"

  Even though I could tell his cheek was still stinging, Tristan lowered his hand and his smug smirk returned.