Forget You, Ethan: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Whitney G.

  He looked at me as if he was waiting for me to smile in return.

  I didn’t.

  “Okay, then," he said. "So, here on campus, every class is worth a total of three credit hours. On the ship, the same holds true for the core classes in your major, but your electives are only worth one and a half credits, as SAS partners teach those classes and not official university staff...You are awarded an additional half credit per course in the summer months, though, and the courses you took during the four-week stays in Thailand and Australia did result in two full credits so good for you.”

  “Mr. Hinton, what are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying that if you want to graduate from this university, you have two options. Option number one, you can take three more semesters of courses here. That would mean this upcoming spring, this upcoming summer, and this upcoming fall. Or, you can attend a spring and part-summer session aboard the next Semester at Sea sailing. There's a repositioning voyage this winter as well—if you want to get a super head start. ”

  My heart dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  His eyes widened. "Miss Dawson, there's no need to use foul language. I'm just the messenger."

  "You're the messenger who has just fucked up my plans." I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm planning to pursue a graduate degree next fall."

  "And you can still do that...You just, you know, will have to pick the option that allows you to do so." He shook his head and looked down, not making eye contact. “I’m very sorry.”

  “Why didn't anyone tell me about this policy change before?" I was seconds away from screaming. "Surely someone on the ship could’ve let me know. I would’ve gotten the hell off and completed the rest of my work here.”

  Still refusing to make eye contact, he leaned back in his chair.

  With every second that passed, all I could think about was how a little over three years ago, he'd sold me on this "once in a lifetime" program and assured me that the courses were the same as they were on campus. He’d said it was “better than regular college,” and I wouldn't have to make up any credits when I returned. He took my dad and me out to dinner every week to discuss it, wooed me with all new brochures, and made it his business to stay in contact with me as I made my decision.

  I remembered writing his words verbatim in my letters to Ethan, insisting that I was the one who was doing college "the right way."

  I had no desire to complete another term at sea, and I didn’t want to spend the next year and a half taking pointless, fluff courses.

  “Is there a way I can talk to the dean, Mr. Hinton?” I asked, feeling tears prick my eyes.

  “You can,” he said. “But you need to know that he’s the one who instituted the policy. He wanted to be sure that students weren't trying to take the easy way out.”

  “There’s nothing easy about living on a ship with no Wi-Fi and strangers for three years.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, I truly understand that you’re upset but—”

  “You don't understand anything.” I cut him off and stood to my feet. “You're telling me that I completed three years of college on a boat for shits and giggles.”

  “I wouldn't necessarily say ‘shits and giggles,’ per se. I’m sure you learned a hell of a lot while you were away, and I’m sure you’ll treasure those experiences for a lifetime.”

  "I would've if you'd told me that I was going to be the only freshman onboard for the first year, or if you would've told me that most people only do a semester at a time." I glared at him and picked up my purse. “I should’ve known you were full of it when you let me sign up for the program as a freshman.”

  “A lot of freshmen do Semester at Sea, Miss Dawson.” He looked offended. “It varies from year to year. And you were happily signing off on all the final forms from what I remember.”

  “Do you get a kickback or a bonus for every student who signs up for the longer terms?”

  “What?” his face paled. “What the hell are you trying to say?”

  “Nothing.” I headed to the door. “Your face says it all.”

  LATER THAT NIGHT, I sat in Ethan’s lap in the hot tub, looking out at the ocean. He was eyeing me intently, trailing his fingers against my lips. Even though I was pissed about the state of my college career, I was sure that being with Ethan was what it felt like to be in a great relationship. If not, it had to be pretty damn close.

  “Are you going to say something?” he asked. “You’ve been quiet all night.”

  “Would you care if I did Semester at Sea again?”

  “Depends.” He moved his hand away. “What would be the reason?”

  “Because my dumbass advisor screwed me over.” My voice cracked. “Twenty-five percent of the credits I got onboard don’t count, so I’m technically still a junior. He said I can either do a spring and a part-time summer semester on board or do an additional year and a half here on campus. He even said I can get on board on the next winter departure, which is utter bullshit.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I haven't told him anything yet. I need to think about it.”

  He caressed my back. “Well, if you go back, it’s not like we haven’t written each other letters before.”

  “That was before we were a couple and started having sex.”

  He smiled, letting out a low laugh. “You honestly think I would cheat on you while you were gone?”

  “No...”

  “Okay, then. What’s the problem?”

  “I just need to think about it.” I leaned against his chest. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure,” he said. “I have good news.”

  “Is it that Greg finally has a new girlfriend?”

  “He does, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” He kissed my lips. “I was accepted into Hudson University’s Accelerated MBA program. It’s in New York.”

  “Oh.” I forced a smile, feeling my heart sink. “That’s... That’s great. What makes it accelerated?”

  “The fact that I start next semester.” He kissed me again, much longer this time. “See? We’ll be separated again no matter what path you choose.”

  “What happened to pursuing the writing programs, Ethan?” I asked. “You hate business.”

  “Is that why I have all A’s in it?”

  “You have all A’s in it because math and everything that's remotely connected to math has always come easily to you,” I said, looking into his eyes. “For someone who was always so hell-bent on telling me to pursue art, you going to Hudson makes you look like one hell of a hypocrite.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “You’re upset about this?”

  I didn’t answer.

  He blinked and gently gripped my hips, moving me out of his lap. Then he stood up and stepped out of the hot tub.

  “I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘Congratulations,’ Rachel,” he said. “That’s typically the first thing someone says after finding out about an accomplishment.”

  “I’ll give you a ‘congratulations’ when you get into a program you want to join. Something writing-related that'll help you finish the novel you've been working on since you were a freshman. You're still working on it, right?”

  "Yes..." He clenched his jaw. "I told you I was going to finish it sometime next year."

  "In your letters, you said you were eighty percent finished with it. Why not just complete it and apply to a few writing programs, instead of doing what your dad expects you to do? Instead of working toward receiving a company that you don’t even want to own?"

  Silence.

  “I don’t want to argue with you about this, Rachel," he said. "Not right now, anyway.”

  “You're the one who’s making a scene and getting out of the hot tub.” I crossed my arms, and his lips curved into a smile. “It wasn't me being a hot head this time. I was just giving you my honest thoughts as your so-called girlfriend. I don’t remember reading about you arguing with any of your oth
ers.”

  “I honestly don’t remember any of the others.” He laughed and bent down, pulling me out of the water. “How about we talk about something other than the future for the rest of the night?”

  “I’d like that. What do you want to talk about?”

  “I think we should discuss the fact that Greg is out of town for an entire weekend, and we have the entire house to ourselves.” He tugged the string of my bikini bottom, letting it fall into the hot tub. “And by 'discuss,' I'm not really interested in talking...”

  Track 22. Shake It Off (2:22)

  Ethan

  “YOU GOING TO HUDSON makes you look like one hell of a hypocrite...”

  I pulled a blanket over Rachel the next morning, kissing her forehead before getting dressed. Despite having sex all over our house for the entire night, I hadn’t been able to get some of her words out of my head, and I was still slightly upset.

  She didn’t even give me a chance to explain that the program was only for a year (Hence the word “accelerated”) and I was guaranteed a six-figure job upon completion. I was going to tell her that I planned to take a gap-year afterwards and pursue writing for a while.

  Then again, I should’ve known that she would react that way.

  She’s still a goddamn hot-head...

  “Where are you going?” She murmured, rolling over. “Ethan?”

  “To my dad’s office. You want something on my way back?”

  “Yeah...” She looked at me. “Can you let me see the first few pages of your novel? You never let me read it.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, walking over and kissing her forehead. “By ‘something,’ I was referring to what you may want from a store or a café.”

  “Hot chocolate from Gayle’s. Two cups.”

  I laughed and hit the lights. “I’ll be back with that in twenty.”

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, I walked into the office suite at my dad’s construction company and set my intention letter for Hudson University on his desk.

  “Wow.” He picked up the paper and smiled. “Now, this is the type of ‘creative writing’ I’m talking about, Ethan. These are the type of words that will get you someplace in life.”

  “I didn’t come here to talk,” I said. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be moving away soon.”

  “Well, thank you for taking the right path.” He smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “I can’t wait until you finish, so I can show you all the things you’re going to love about running this place. Okay, well, maybe not love, but it’ll pay your bills and you’ll get to do things you love on your off days.”

  “Right.” I rolled my eyes and picked up my letter. “Like I said, I’m not here to talk, and I’m not sure if I want to work at your company when I’m finished anyway. I told you I’d consider it.”

  His expression hardened. “Ethan, this is a seven-figure business that I’m willing to give you, no questions asked. Do you have any idea how I would’ve felt if my father promised the same for me when I was your age?”

  I can make a pretty good guess... “I have no idea.”

  “Well, I would’ve felt honored, and you should feel the same,” he said, pulling out his laptop. “Show me your school’s log-in portal so I can see what specialties you’ll work on during the first few months. I’ll do my best to tailor my lessons in sync with yours.”

  “You do know that Hudson University is in New York, right?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “What better way to finally Skype each other since you’ll be doing that to reach all your future clients? Oh, and since you’re doing an accelerated program instead of the standard one, that means I don’t have as much time to get all the transition guides ready for you.” He turned the laptop’s screen toward me, talking a mile a minute about shit I couldn’t care less about, and for a split second, I wondered if Rachel had a point.

  Track 23. Wildest Dreams (2:09)

  Rachel

  ON A SATURDAY NIGHT, I sat across from Ethan, Penelope, and Greg in our rooftop pool as they laughed about all the crazy things they’d done over their college careers. Halfway listening, I felt my heart ache at the realization that I didn’t have much to add to the conversation. That my first semester on campus was one of their last, and I wanted it to last forever.

  I don’t want to get back on that goddamn ship...

  As Greg and Ethan swam to the deep end with Penelope following, I grabbed my phone from the deck and sent my advisor an email.

  SUBJECT: MY OPTIONS.

  Mr. Hinton,

  I would like to let you know that although I am highly upset with how my credits (and the information about them) are handled, I have decided to choose the first option to complete the necessary credits for my degree.

  Since I have a 4.0 GPA and two acceptance letters from graduate programs that were due to start next fall, I would also like to request a written explanation from your office so that they may consider holding my spot when I finish my undergraduate studies.

  Thank you,

  Rachel

  Track 24. Mean (3:47)

  Rachel

  One week later...

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT I’m dating Greg Charleston III,” Penelope said, taking a seat next to me at Gayle’s on a Thursday night. We’d weathered the hour-long wait for a table in the rain, and the waitress was making our night so far with endless cups of hot chocolate.

  “Like, out of all the guys on this campus, I decide to go for one of the biggest ass-holes. The guy who walked up to me with the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

  “He’s also the mayor’s son.” I smiled, sipping my drink. “Doesn’t that make dating him somewhat better?”

  “Not at all.” She laughed. “The sex does that.”

  “Is it that good?”

  “Good isn’t even the right word for it.” She waved at him and Ethan as they walked into the diner. “I haven’t gone a day without orgasms since we started dating.”

  Ethan kissed my cheek before sitting next to me, and Greg signaled for the waitress.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Ethan whispered. “Greg wanted to stop for Penelope’s birthday card.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “That’s not until next month.”

  “He wanted to buy it before he forgot.”

  “Hey!” Greg wagged his finger. “No whispering tonight, enemies. It’s night one of a three week-long celebration and you’ll have plenty of time later to do that whispering shit.”

  I shook my head. “What exactly are we celebrating?”

  “Us getting a new roommate soon,” he said, laughing. “But more importantly, Ethan moving to New York for business school next month.”

  WHAT? “I’m sorry, what?” I looked at Ethan. “Next month?”

  He nodded, smiling. “I made up my mind the other day. I planned to lay out all the details tonight since I know you’ll have plenty of questions. You can even join me this weekend when I leave for my pre-campus visit. I’ll be there for a full week, but I’d love for you to be there with me for some of the days.” He kissed my cheek, and my blood ran cold.

  “To New York dreams!” Greg raised his cup for a toast, and Penelope and Ethan joined him.

  I faked a smile and leaned back against the booth.

  “To New York dreams!” they all said in unison one more time.

  I sat still and listened as Ethan told them about all the things he was looking forward to in New York, all the plans and preparations he’d made without letting me in on a goddamn thing. Since he had plenty of credits and his professors had all conspired to waive his final semester of electives, he would be awarded his two degrees this winter.

  Not that he would be able to attend his graduation, though.

  There was a pre-campus visit this week, an orientation session two and a half weeks after that, and after one final week of intensive placement and specialty tests, he’d be taking classes six days a week once January came.

  When Greg
insisted on showing Penelope the famous “Carter & Ari” booth on the other side of the diner, I cleared my throat.

  “Ethan?”

  “Yes?” He smiled, turning me on and making me temporarily forget that I was upset.

  “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

  “Of course.” He stood up and clasped my hand, leading me through the dining room and outside into the rain. He let up an umbrella and held it over my head, walking me to a nearby alley.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I could’ve sworn we said that we were going to talk about our futures together before we made any decisions.”

  “No, we said that we were just going to talk about it later,” he said. “That last part was never agreed to, especially since you made your decision already.”

  “My decision doesn’t count since it’s the right one.” I crossed my arms. “If you’re going to New York next month, where does that leave us?”

  “What do you mean, where does that leave us?” He rolled his eyes and stepped back, letting me hold the umbrella. “We’ll still be together, Rachel. It’s just New York, and I can fly back to see you on Sundays. Or, I can fly you up to see me anytime you want.”

  “Let me get this straight...” I paused, feeling my blood beginning to boil. “I’m willing to stay here for a year and a half—to take fucking fluff courses, just so I can be around you, and you couldn’t tell me that you were already making moves to go to New York? You didn’t just make up your mind about this ‘the other day,’ Ethan. You fucking knew.”

  “I also fucking knew how you would react, so I thought it would be better if we talked about it in private.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, how’s that line of thinking going for you so far? Is this better than what you envisioned?”