The Boy I Hate

by Taylor Sullivan

  “You should go,” Renee finally stated.

  Samantha looked down to her hands, her heart flipping with discomfort. “I don’t know—”

  “It’ll make me feel better. I feel bad you’ve been stuck in here all weekend when you could have been home having fun.”

  “I haven’t been stuck—”

  “Go, Sammie. It’s our last night. I know it’s Tristan, but maybe you’ll meet some other guys. There are guys here; I’ve seen them walking around through the window.” She turned back around. “And you need to get out—if only for a little while.”

  Samantha looked down at her fingers, thinking it would be so much easier to turn Steven down if she was able to tell him she had met someone else. “Okay.” She looked up at Renee again, then reached out to adjust the blankets around her friend’s shoulders. “I’ll go, but only for a little while.”

  4

  Chapter Four

  Six years earlier

  It was almost eight thirty when Samantha walked out on the back deck to look for Tristan. The night was warm, but the breeze off the lake offered just enough relief to make the August evening pleasant. Her long blond hair was braided over one shoulder, and she clasped a red-striped beach towel firmly at her chest.

  She found him sitting on the steps, looking out to the water. His body was splayed out in gray swim shorts and a white t-shirt, but he didn’t notice her right away. His focus was directed to the lake, as if deep in thought, and the soft glow from the back porch light allowed her to see his features.

  She leaned against the log siding and watched him. She’d known him for as long as she could remember, but this was the first time she’d ever seen him alone. Normally, he was surrounded by groupies, both the male and female variety, and it was odd to see him like this. Like a wolf away from his pack, or a white iris in a field of purple. Out of place, but beautiful nonetheless. It intrigued her.

  “You came,” he said, his voice quiet and contemplative. But he didn’t turn around to face her. He continued to look out to the lake, as if he saw something out there she couldn’t. “I didn’t think you would.”

  She pushed away from the wall, wondering how long he’d noticed her there without saying a word. “Why’s that?”

  He rose to his feet and dusted off his shorts before facing her. “Just a hunch.” A slow smile transformed his features as his gaze swept her up and down. “I’m glad I was wrong, Sammie Smiles.”

  He walked down the steps, the name from her childhood barely audible on his lips. Low and soft…but incredibly sexy. She didn’t like it, didn’t like it at all. Because for some reason, the way he said it made her stomach flutter. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact they were alone, or something else, but he sounded honest. Like he really was happy to see her.

  She cleared her throat and looked out toward the lake. “Where are we going?”

  “The dock,” he replied, jetting his chin out to the lake before glancing back up at her. “You okay with that?”

  “Sure,” she said, adjusting the towel at her chest before walking down the steps.

  The dock sounded safe enough. Out in the open, visible from almost every cabin. She followed him down the path to the beach, closely watching her step as they made it down to the sand. Then his footsteps slowed, and he began walking right beside her. She knew it was intentional, because he was almost a full foot taller than her. But his strides matched her short ones perfectly—step after step—and she realized he was trying to do what he said he would. To be a perfect gentleman. And he was actually succeeding.

  Their walk continued, neither saying a word as they headed in the direction of the dock. Which gave Samantha plenty of time to reprimand herself for being so nervous. She wasn’t quite sure the reason, because she knew nothing would ever eventuate between her and Tristan. He could have any girl he wanted, literally, and she had no interest in him whatsoever. But Tristan Montgomery had this way about him. A presence so big the whole world would miss it the moment it was gone…and she was feeling it right now. All around her, over every inch of her skin.

  They made it halfway to the dock before either spoke again, but then he turned to her, as if he’d been repressing the words for so long they exploded from his lips. “I leave for Austin next week,” he said, standing in front of her.

  It wasn’t a question, but a statement. She wasn’t sure what to do with it. Congratulate him, or give him a high-five. Instead, she looked at him, wondering where all this was coming from. “Are you excited?”

  He raised his shoulders, but said nothing as he began walking backward.

  Nervous energy shot through her heart and she looked down to her feet again. “Well you should be,” she said with a nod. “An acceptance to UT is an honor.”

  He remained quiet, and she continued. “They have one of the best football teams in the US. It’ll be a great opportunity for you—”

  He spun around, cutting off her last word as he picked up the pace again. She paused for a second, wondering if what she’d said offended him. Personally, she’d always thought of college as some big, exciting experience. The beginning of the future, the first step toward adulthood. And she knew from Renee that Tristan had a full scholarship—and like always, a whole plethora of new women were out there waiting for him to charm their panties off… But for some reason, he didn’t seem excited. Or happy about it at all, actually.

  “I can’t wait to go to college,” she said, to fill the awkward space. “Though I probably won’t move away like you. Not that I don’t want to. But CalArts is my top choice, and it would be foolish to spend money on room and board when I could live at home for free.” She could hear Steven’s voice when she said it, but he was the smartest person in her life, and she was sure it was true.

  He looked her over, his brows furrowing, and his feet slowing. “Don’t you ever do anything foolish?”

  She lifted her chin. “Not really. Not like you do.”

  He laughed. “You think I’m foolish?”

  She shrugged. “You do foolish things.”

  “Like?”

  “Like jumping off your parents’ roof into the neighbor’s pool.”

  He grinned. “That was one time.”

  “And taking Suzy Baker to senior prom even though you knew her boyfriend was out to get you.”

  His grin widened. “I never thought you paid that much attention, Sammie Smiles.”

  She cleared her throat. “Well, you’re kinda hard to miss—I mean, the stuff you do. It always causes so much drama, and everyone can never stop talking about it. You’re like our local celebrity.”

  They came to a full stop and he turned to face her. “Will you miss me?” he asked. But it wasn’t in that flirtatious way he used with other girls. He wasn’t even smiling when he looked up to meet her eyes; he was dead serious. His eyes held hers, his lips formed in a straight line as though he was holding his breath.

  She looked into his clear blue eyes, her breaths becoming shallow and uneven. She shook her head. She didn’t know what was happening to her, but she didn’t like it. “No,” she finally said. “How could I? I hardly know you.”

  He laughed, but it didn’t seem a happy one. Then, before she could recover from the whiplash conversation, he pulled his shirt overhead and began running toward the dock. “Maybe I can change your mind.”

  Without waiting for her reply, he jumped off the dock and landed with a large splash in the water. He spun around, the light of the moon reflecting off his wet hair, glistening down his bronzed skin and bare chest. “Come on, Sam. Are you gonna swim with me or what?”

  Present day

  Samantha stared at the bright computer screen, her eyes glassy and aching, as she focused on the cursor in the middle of the page. Tristan terrified her. Not because of who he was, but because of how he affected her. He set the wild heart of hers free, and he did it in a way that was so subtle she didn’t even notice it happening until it was over.

  But Renee was
right. It would be silly for her to drive alone. Foolish to drive three thousand miles just to avoid the boy she hated. But it was also selfish. Because she knew Renee would worry if she tried to make the trip alone, and Renee already had enough to worry about. A whole wedding’s worth of worry.

  Samantha held her finger on the delete key and erased the whole email before grabbing her phone from the mattress and opening up her texts.

  Samantha: Tell your brother I’ll be ready at 10:00 a.m. sharp.

  Reply dots came right away, as though Renee had been waiting.

  Renee: Swwweeee! I will. Thank you!!!!

  Samantha grinned.

  Samantha: You’re welcome.

  Samantha set the phone back on her desk, exhausted, and pushed her half-empty suitcase to the side of the bed and climbed in beside it.

  “Seventy-two hours,” she whispered. That was all she had to survive to get to NY. Seventy-two hours with Tristan Montgomery.

  God save her soul.

  5

  Chapter Five

  Present Day

  “He’s late, Ren. Are you sure he’s coming?” Samantha let the curtains slip between her fingers, allowing them to fall closed as she turned back to pace across the living room floor.

  “He’s coming, Sam. I called him ten minutes ago, and he said he’s on his way. He’ll be there. Relax.”

  “We’re going to hit traffic.”

  Laughter came from the receiver. “Lunch time traffic?”

  “Be quiet!” She held back a tiny grin and leaned against the wall. “I’ve been dressed for over an hour, I hardly slept, making sure I had everything ready, and his being late really pisses me off. I thought you said he’d changed?”

  “He overslept, Sam, he’ll be there. Look, if he isn’t there in thirty minutes, I’ll buy you a coke.”

  Samantha closed her eyes. “A rum and coke.”

  “Whatever you want,” Renee agreed. “But I have to get back to practice. Can you call me when he gets there?”

  Samantha sat down on her couch and clicked on the TV. “Sure. But if he’s not here in an hour I’m leaving without him.”

  “Fair enough,” Renee replied. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.” Samantha placed her cell beside her on the couch and leaned back to switch the channel to Judge Judy. She’d been so stressed about this morning’s trip that she’d hardly slept at all. She kept having dreams about Tristan. About him hanging by his fingertips on the edge of a cliff and calling her name. “Sammie! Sammie!”

  She would try to go to him, but the closer she got, the faster her heart would pound, because she couldn’t make her feet move. Even though she could see he was falling, she couldn’t go to him. She was afraid that if she did, she’d go over the cliff with him.

  The dream was dark and disturbing to say the least, but there was so much truth to it. She was afraid of seeing Tristan again. Afraid that seeing him would pull her wild heart right out of her chest. Just like he had in the middle of the lake six years earlier.

  Six years earlier

  “Just jump, already!”

  Samantha stood at the water’s edge, looking down from the dock as Tristan waded in the darkness of the lake below. A shiver raced through her. Not because it was cold—if anything, it was a hotter than usual. She shivered because suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to be there. She looked back over her shoulder. Toward the cabin where her best friend was still sleeping, sure she was making a huge mistake. But the evening was perfect, the sky crystal clear, displaying a plethora of stars too many to count, and the smells of the wilderness mingled with the scent of freedom.

  “How deep is it?” she finally asked, as she dropped her towel to the edge of the dock. Her black bathing suit was simple, nothing too sexy or revealing, though she still had to stop herself from crossing her arms at her chest for more protection. Samantha had a curvaceous body. Large breasts and hips to match, but she was incredibly self-conscious. She’d been aware at an early age that her curves were a distraction. Hyper-aware, even in sixth grade, when the boys started ogling.

  “Not deep.” He stood up in the water, indicating it hit him mid-stomach. “Jump, already!”

  Before she could talk herself out of it, knowing she’d be much more comfortable shielded by the dark water, she held her breath and jumped out as far as she could manage. But instantly, she started sinking. Her eyes bulged and her arms flailed about in panic. She desperately tried to get back to the surface, but the more she struggled the deeper she sank. She couldn’t get her head above water—not high enough to take a full breath.

  Before she knew what was happening, Tristan’s arms wrapped around her belly and he jetted them both toward the surface. He wrapped one arm around her neck, his body like a floatation device, keeping her above water as he swam on his back toward a large fallen branch.

  He helped her up to sit, where she coughed and sputtered, the water she’d almost drowned in expelling from her throat and lungs.

  “You can’t swim, can you?” he asked, out of breath. “You can’t fucking swim!”

  She coughed out the last bit of water, clinging to the branch and pulling in as much air as she could manage. “You lied to me! How did you do that? You were standing, I saw you!”

  “There was a branch—” But then he smoothed the wet hair from her cheek and examined her face. “I didn’t know, Sammie. Are you okay?”

  She pushed at his chest, startled by his closeness, startled by the fact that she thought he’d be laughing, but he wasn’t. He looked worried, if anything, almost scared.

  “Are you okay?”

  She didn’t answer. She glanced in the direction of the cabin, barely able to see the light of the front porch. She couldn’t believe she’d come out here. That she’d convinced herself it would be okay, even though the voice in her head had been screaming for her not to do it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, bracing his arms on either side of the branch to pull himself up to sit beside her, making the whole thing shake under his weight.

  They were both silent, his eyes fixated on the open water before he spoke again. “Why would you come out here when you don’t know how to swim?”

  She clenched her jaw, unable to share the answer that sprung to her mind. Because she was curious. Because she liked the way she felt when he was close to her. “I asked you how deep it was. I trusted you.”

  His head tilted slightly to the side and he looked at her. “Why? You don’t even know me.”

  He was throwing her words back in her face and she didn’t like it. “’Cause I’m an idiot!” she yelled. She began scooting down the branch, determined to get away from him by any means possible. To get back to the shore, to her best friend, even by the most humiliating way she could think of.

  But he lowered himself to the water, blocking her off on the other side. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the cabin. Far away from you.”

  “Why? Because of that?” He gestured to the spot where she’d nearly drowned. “Why do you hate me so much, Samantha? You’ve hated me for as long as I can remember, and I don’t know why. What did I ever do to you?”

  She stopped moving, too shocked by what he was asking to even look at him. It was true; she’d hated him forever, but the fact that he’d noticed made her heart hurt a little inside. She didn’t know what to say. “I—”

  But he stopped her. “You know what, I don’t want to know.” He reached out to tuck the last bits of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, Sam. I really am. If I—” But he stopped, as if not allowing the words to leave his tongue. He looked back up at her, his expression somber and dark. “Forgive me?”

  Present day

  BOOM BOOM BOOM

  Samantha startled out of sleep, the sounds of banging reverberating through the walls and floor. She threw her feet off the side of the couch and sat forward to turn off the television. The poundi
ng came once again. BOOM BOOM BOOM.

  The front door.

  “Hang on,” she shouted. “I’ll be there in a second!” She grabbed her cell phone off the coffee table, and realized it had been almost an hour since she’d gotten off the phone with Renee. Tristan Montgomery was on the other side of that door, and she had no idea how long he’d been out there.

  She pushed hard against the couch, forcing herself to stand, then walked over to the entertainment center to check her reflection in the television screen. “Oh God,” she whispered, taking in the long strands of hair stuck to her face and smoothing them behind her ears. This was the first time she’d seen Tristan in six years, and a red imprint of her couch cushion was etched into her cheek. No. She shook her head at her reflection. It wasn’t the first time. She’d seen him a handful of other times as well. In passing, when he came home for visits from college…but he never seemed to notice her. Never again after that night.

  When she finally opened the door a minute later, unsure if he’d left because he was so quiet, she found him resting in the stairwell, his back against the wall, laughing into the receiver of his cell phone. He stood there so casually, it seemed as though he did this every day, as though he hadn’t just been beating down her front door with his bare fists.

  “Yeah, I got it.” He smiled. But not to Samantha—he was speaking to whomever was on the phone. “Talk to you later.”

  When he finally turned around, he placed his cell phone in his back pocket. “I thought I was going to have to break the door down.” He lifted his shoulders. “Either that or you changed your mind.”