The Boy I Hate

by Taylor Sullivan

  She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by what was happening. He was right. She was confused, but it wasn’t about Steven. Still, she could wait until tomorrow, wait until his mother wasn’t around as a witness—because right now she had bigger demons to face.

  When she was finally stood alone on the curb, after Steven had driven off with his mom in her hatchback, Samantha shoved her hands deep into her pockets and headed for the house. She paused when she caught a glimpse of Tristan by the garage door, a two-liter soda in each hand as he walked into the house.

  She held her breath, unable to move a muscle. Had he seen them? Had he watched them kissing? Her heart pinched with fear and she stopped at the front step. It had been the briefest of kisses, so much shorter than the one they’d shared in the woods. But if he’d been there for longer than a few minutes…

  She bit her lower lip, not allowing herself to think like that, and walked back into the house.

  When she entered the great room, her heart instantly eased. Tristan was laughing and joking with his friends, playing pool with Beef, and looked exactly like he had last time she saw him. Relaxed and confident, like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he was the brightest star in the sky, and everyone had the privilege of dancing in his light.

  She took a seat next to Renee, relieved but still breathless, and took another slice of pizza. The whole ordeal with Steven made her ravenous…and despite still having one conversation left to go, she took a bite of her pizza.

  Renee leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “How’d it go?”

  Samantha only lifted her shoulders and locked eyes on the television screen. A rerun of I Love Lucy caught her attention as she started chewing.

  “Did you tell him?”

  Samantha shook her head. “No—not yet.”

  Renee let out a heavy sigh, picked up her paper plate and jumped down from her barstool. “I can’t take it anymore. They’re too loud, and I have a headache. Are you staying the night?”

  Samantha swallowed, knowing her time to procrastinate was coming to an end, and glanced over one shoulder to nod at her best friend. “I think so.”

  Renee tossed her plate into the metal trash can, adjusted her blanket, and headed for the stairs “Okay. I’ll pick out a movie. Hurry up, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She took another slice of pizza, adding more to her plate that already held too much. But she wasn’t ready. How could she tell Renee about what happened? To tell her she’d kissed her brother, and that she wasn’t even sure it would be the last time.

  Tristan was still playing pool behind her. Joking with his friends, occasionally laughing, and already she craved his attention. For him to sit beside her, too close, like he had in the woods. She craved more than that though. She wanted to talk to him. To get to know him—the way others never took the time. But all that would have to come later. She swiveled in her chair, ready to jump to the ground and find Renee, but immediately stopped.

  Tristan was standing straight across from her. His arms were braced on either side of the pool table, and the brunette who had told him about her keg was standing right in the middle. His lips were lifted in a flirtatious smile, and his hips were pressed against her body, pinning her in place as if staking a claim. He leaned forward until his lips touched the side of her ear.

  They were too close. Much too close for it to be innocent, and no excuse Samantha could come up with would explain what he was doing. She’d seen it a thousand times. Tristan standing too close to other girls. Too flirtatious, too—much. Pizza began to climb up her throat, making her nose burn with heartache and humiliation.

  She didn’t understand it. How could he be one way with her, yet brazenly flirtatious with another woman while she sat less than ten feet away? A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, not allowing herself to cry over him.

  She finally hopped down from the chair and tossed her paper plate and the rest of her food in the trash. She felt dizzy, broken, and sick to her stomach—but she somehow made it to the staircase.

  Before she allowed herself to climb, she turned around, and found Tristan watching her. His hands were still on either side of the brunette, his hips still pinning her in place. Samantha didn’t look away. She needed to see it. To burn the image of him like this in her memory. Because she would never again fall for a guy like Tristan. Not even for a moment in the woods, not even when the timing was so perfect it seemed to come from a fairy tale.

  Tristan looked down to the girl held in his arms and smiled. He whispered something in her ear, then picked up his cue stick and began playing pool again, leaving her dazed and smiling. She was the next girl to sit too close to Tristan Montgomery, but that was her problem.

  Samantha finally made it to Renee’s room, where she crawled into bed beside her best friend and nestled under the covers. The opening credits to The Notebook were playing on the large screen, and a box of tissues was front and center in the middle the queen sized bed.

  Samantha let the top of her head fall to her best friend’s shoulder, fighting back tears that still clogged the back of her throat. “I’ve decided I’m going to say yes to Steven.”

  Renee sat up, grabbed the remote, and paused the movie. She turned to Samantha and looked into her eyes, studying her in a way that was all knowing. “Are you sure?”

  Samantha squared her shoulders and nodded, because she’d never been surer in her life. Steven was honest and stable, and would wait for her for all eternity. Until just a moment ago, she hadn’t realized how important that was. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  Renee bit her lower lip, then looked down to the bed. There was no hiding the fact she was disappointed, but when she looked up again, she grabbed Samantha’s hands and squeezed them with her fingers. “Is that why you’ve been acting so weird all day? Because you’ve been afraid to tell me?”

  Samantha looked down to the sheets, knowing that hadn’t been the reason at all, but Renee tightened her grip on her hands, forcing her to look back up again.

  “Never,” Renee began. “Never be afraid to tell me anything again. You’re my best friend, and if Steven is the boy who makes you happy, I’m ecstatic for you. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

  Renee pulled Samantha into her arms, and the tears she’d been holding for too long landed on her best friend’s shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” Renee asked, “You’re worrying me.”

  Samantha nodded, plucking a tissue from the box and wiping her nose before sitting back against the headboard. “I’m fine. I must be close to my period or something.”

  Renee searched her face for another second, as though trying to figure out what this all was about. “Do you still want to watch the movie?”

  Samantha looked into her best friend’s eyes and nodded, maybe a bit too vigorously. She sank down deep into the pillows. “I want that very much.”

  Renee un-paused the movie, nestling deep under the covers next to Samantha—but it felt different. There was a secret between them for the first time, one Samantha would never share. There was no reason to anymore. That night on the lake with Tristan, that kiss, was just one mistake, one stupid and vulnerable moment that had the potential to hurt forever. It would never happen again, of that she would make sure of.

  10

  Chapter Ten

  Present day

  It only took two minutes to get out of the car and find Tristan in the back of the restaurant. He was unmistakable, already swarmed by female servers leaning against the booths beside him. Without saying a word, Samantha slid into the bench across from him and remained quiet. She waited there a moment, until all eyes were focused on her, then leaned across the table and whispered, “You’re wrong, my boyfriend trusts me. That’s why he doesn’t care I’m with you.”

  Two servers raised their brows, as if making the assumption she intended, then took the carafe of coffee and headed for the back room.

  Tristan only shrugged, as though slightly amus
ed by her response. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yes,” he confirmed, grinning.

  “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

  He laughed, not in a humorous way, but in a way that was cocky and irritating. “I’m glad he trusts you, Samantha, that’s great. But he’s a fool.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t trust me?”

  “Not as far as I could throw you.”

  “Why?” She’d never had anyone say that before, so blatantly and matter-of-factly. She would have screamed had no one else been around to hear.

  He opened the menu, dismissing her, then changed his mind and looked up again. “You’re only one bad decision away from climbing into my bed. You, and everyone else.”

  She choked. “You’re full of yourself.”

  “I’m honest.”

  She grabbed his glass of water and downed it by half, even though what she really wanted to do was throw it in his face. “Maybe that’s what you’re used to,” she said, around large gulps of water. “But that’s not me.”

  He leaned back in his seat and smiled. The one that wrinkled his eyes at the corners, and made her stomach twist with nervousness. “It only takes one moment, Samantha. One twinge of doubt. One single disagreement for someone to cheat.” He leaned forward again, bracing his forearms on the table. “He shouldn’t trust you. You, or anyone. That’s what I’m saying. It’s nothing personal.”

  She leaned in, not intimidated. “You say my boyfriend shouldn’t trust me, yet in the same breath say it’s nothing personal? Who does that? Who says things like that, expecting someone to not take offense? It is personal Tristan. Very personal, and I take great offense to it.”

  He leaned back in his seat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  But he didn’t look sincere. Not sincere in the slightest, and she began to shake her head. She picked up the menu to cover her face, needing to get away from him in any way she could. Her blood was heating throughout her entire body. She was so angry she couldn’t see straight—and that was something she didn’t want him to see. For him to know how much his words had affected her.

  This conversation was completely ironic, too. Because not so long ago, this man had taken her first kiss. Not only taken it, but ripped it out from under her like a magic trick. Then not even twenty-four hours later was shoving another girl in her face. Yes, he had made no promises, no verbal commitment that anything would come from it, but no words were needed after a kiss like that. No promise could replace what their bodies had told her.

  “I feel bad for you,” she said quietly, unable to resist.

  “Why?” he answered, amused.

  “Because you have no faith.”

  “It makes things easier.”

  “How so?” She lowered her menu, having expected him to disagree. But he didn’t. He answered in such a nonchalant way that she needed to see him.

  He was leaning back in his seat, his arms braced on either side booth. “Because—when you don’t care, they can’t hurt you.” He set his napkin on the table, then stood and looked down to the hall. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call.”

  She watched him walk away, unable to form a response because bile had begun to climb up her throat. The way he said the words was so heartbreaking. As if he knew all too well what hurt felt like. As if he’d experienced it more than once.

  He pulled open the back door, took his cell from his back pocket, and began talking. He was still in her line of vision, and she couldn’t look away. His expression became angry and intense as he walked around the corner, and then she couldn’t see him any longer.

  She remembered what Renee said about him having a hard couple of years, and for the first time, she wondered what happened. What could have been so terrible to cause such a jaded view on life? Wondered if the person he was talking to now was the cause of it?

  The server came back at that moment, pulling Samantha’s attention as she set two plates on the table. Both the same order. A cheese burger and french fries.

  “What’s this?” Samantha asked, without looking up.

  “A burger,” the woman replied. “Is that not what you wanted? He said—”

  “He ordered me food?” She looked up, slightly out of breath from shock.

  “Yes,” the server answered, confused.

  “Why?” Samantha searched the server’s stressed face, then took pity on her and shook her head. “You know what—” She placed her napkin on her lap and decided not to over think it. “It doesn’t matter. Thank you, it looks delicious.”

  The woman nodded, still flustered, then turned to the nearby table and began clearing it.

  Samantha had barely touched her fries when Tristan came back inside and immediately started eating. She glanced up at him, a weird feeling tightening in the bottom of her stomach. “Why did you order me food?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

  His eyes met hers, bright blue but distant. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “How did you know I’d come inside?”

  He lifted his burger to his mouth and took a bite. “Because,” he began, “I could tell you were hungry.”

  She tilted her head to the side, clearly confused.

  “Either that or—” But he shook his head, as though deciding not to answer.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “No. You can’t do that. You can’t just say something like that and not finish.”

  He popped a fry into his mouth and grinned. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s like dangling a carrot in front of a starving person.”

  He paused with a fry halfway to his mouth, seeming amused. “And you’re the starving person?” he asked. But he said it in a hushed tone. One that sent a shiver down her spine.

  She swallowed hard, trying without success to recover, but then he pushed his plate to the side, and leaned forward in his seat, as though what he was going to say held great meaning. “What I was going to say was that you looked hungry. Either that, or you haven’t been fucked well in a really long time.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, because she’d never been talked to like that in her life. She looked over her shoulder, to make sure no one had heard him. “My sex life is none of your business,” she whispered back.

  He leaned back in his seat and took a bite of burger. “You’re absolutely right,” he said then. “Absolutely.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “You told me to.”

  “I never thought you’d be so crude.”

  He shrugged. “I never promised to be a gentleman.”

  She paused briefly, a fry halfway to her mouth.

  He met her eyes, too, as though something had sparked inside him, but then he looked away.

  She recovered a second later, stuffing her mouth with handful of fries to end the conversation. His words had struck a chord. One that was fresher than she thought it would be. Because once upon a time, he had promised to be a gentleman. And she had believed in him. For a moment too long.

  The rest of their meal had gone on without much conversation. They ate their food quietly, not even making eye contact until the server brought the bill. Samantha insisted on paying, she didn’t have the money to spare; it was simply out of principle that she couldn’t let Tristan pay. In the end, he’d slapped down a couple of twenties in the middle of the table and walked out of the restaurant, leaving her with a choice.

  A choice to either take the money and pay with her card, hoping to sneak the twenties back into Tristan’s wallet without notice. Or swallow down her long resentment for the man who’d taken her first kiss, and let him win. She chose the latter, because in the end, she knew she needed to pick her battles with Tristan. They had a long journey ahead of them, and she had an inkling this wouldn’t be the last disagreement they shared.

  Back in the Mustang, s
he climbed into the passenger seat and fetched her ear buds out of her bag. She’d loaded a dozen audiobooks onto her iPod before she’d left, and now she started one of them. One she’d been itching to listen to for months but never had the time. It was a story about a woman returning to her best friend’s wedding. Which was ironic considering that was exactly what Samantha was doing. But it comforted her like any good story always had. Giving her the distraction she needed from the man who sat beside her.

  Eventually, she took one of her pillows from the back seat and let herself fall asleep, only to wake sometime later, parked in a Motel 6 parking lot.

  Tristan handed her a key, and they both went to their separate rooms, where Samantha sat now, the phone to her ear, listening to it ringing as she called her best friend.

  “Sam! Thank God it’s you, I’m so freaking stressed.”

  She laughed sleepily into the receiver, so happy to hear Renee’s voice, and lay back on the bed. “Now that’s a greeting. What’s up? Why are you so stressed?”

  Her friend let out an audible breath. “I should have never tried to pull off a wedding so close to a show. People are calling me left and right, and there are rehearsals and performances. I feel like I don’t have any time to breathe.”

  Samantha frowned, hating the fact all this was happening so close to the wedding, but at the same time felt helpless. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Nothing. Well, except get here faster.”

  Samantha closed her eyes, because she wanted nothing more. “I’m working on it. Believe me.”

  “How’s everything with Tristan…? Are you guys getting along?”

  “Everything’s fiiiine,” Samantha said, drawing out the vowels to make the question sound needless. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. I talked to him earlier. He was weird. I thought maybe it had something to do with you.”