I Hate You, Love Me

by Jamie Knight

  I found it pretty ironic to think that no matter how hard I tried to run away from my old life, it was always staring me right back in the face yet again. Here I was about to begin a brand new future, and Seth Foster was here, reminding me of the past from which I could never quite seem to escape.

  When I was six years old, my father lost his management job at the steel plant, to downsizing. He had to take a lower-paying job on the line at a different factory, one that made auto parts.

  We couldn’t afford our nice house anymore and moved into an apartment complex. Seth and his family lived in the apartment above ours. So, technically, he was my neighbor back home.

  Seth and I had known each other and hated each other since we were six years old, since the first month my family moved into the apartment building. And there he was— right up close to my space.

  I couldn’t believe my bad luck.

  This was insane.

  What were the odds that he would be living on the same floor as me, in the same dorm?

  That he would even be going to the same college?

  I sighed with the same resignation as I’d had for the past two hours and started towards my dorm room again. After two steps, I stopped in my tracks. I knew my dad would freak right out if he found out Seth was here.

  And he would make an absolute scene if he ran into Seth’s father.

  I had to do something.

  My folks had never gotten along with Seth’s parents. Both our dads worked at that same auto parts factory. Mr. Foster’s station was right before my dad’s. My dad always complained that Mr. Foster screwed up his productivity and kept him from being promoted.

  My dad had always resented not being able to make it into management there. I guessed it made him feel like he should stand out from his coworkers.

  Seth’s parents had tried to be nice. They had brought by a casserole when we first moved in, but my parents wouldn’t even ask them inside.

  There were rumors about Seth’s mom that my dad had heard at work. I didn’t understand at the time, but my mom said that she was a bad Christian and if we let them in the apartment, it would ruin my family’s reputation.

  My parents’ rudeness was noted by Seth’s dad and they had been fighting ever since. Seth had only made things worse, instead of better, but that wasn’t something I wanted to think about right now.

  I rushed back into my own dorm and set my stuff down on the sterile laminate floor. I had to do something right away, before my parents saw Seth or Mr. Foster and freaked out and succeeded in making me even more miserable.

  “I’ll be right back, I, uh, have to go to the bathroom,” I told my folks.

  I was hoping they’d believe me, even though I had just come from the bathroom. Neither one looked up from what they were doing, and then I remembered that they didn’t know I had just been in the bathroom.

  All signs indicated that my parents would be occupied for several minutes. This was a rare treat, since normally they worried about me whenever I was anywhere but right under their nose. So, I seized the opportunity and ducked back out to the hallway.

  On the way to Seth’s dorm, it all came back to me. I remembered what my mother said that day when the Fosters brought by that casserole. She said that Seth’s mom was a harlot.

  At the time, I didn’t know what the word meant. I asked, but my parents refused to tell me.

  Two weeks later, Seth and I were alone on the complex playground. I had just slid down the slide and had ended up where he was standing and kicking the gravel rocks into haphazard piles.

  My mother had said over breakfast that morning that Seth’s mom had left her family a few nights earlier.

  “Left to go where?” I’d asked, thinking she must mean on vacation or a work trip. Or maybe just on a run to the store. It was hard to tell, since Mom had been being vague about things.

  “She left for good to go a-sinning,” was her answer.

  After sliding down, I walked up to Seth’s newest gravel mound and watched him for a little while. I remembered that he seemed sad. I figured I’d be sad too, if my mom left for good.

  Then I asked Seth, “Did your mom leave your family because she’s a harlot?”

  He turned around quickly and gave me a hard shove, knocking me down. Then he was standing above me on the ground. He pushed my face into the soft dirt left exposed by his gravel pile, before walking back to his apartment. I had hated him ever since.

  Now, I slipped inside Seth’s dorm room and shut the door behind me. He turned around at the noise.

  “Tina?” he asked, his deep brown eyes wide with surprise.

  He was dressed in an old ratty blue t-shirt and jeans. Seth’s family was poor, even poorer than mine. Yet, his black hair had a new cut, short on the sides with the long top slicked back, something a bit more fashionable than how he normally wore it. I wondered if he’d learned how to do it himself or if he’d saved up to get it done.

  I walked over and immediately got in his face. He was taller than me by a good four inches, but he stepped back, as if to try to get away from me and my determination.

  I put one hand on his muscular chest and my outstretched index finger on his lips in a shushing gesture.

  “Please, don’t be too loud,” I whispered, looking desperately into his deep brown eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  Seth pulled my hand away from his mouth and held it away from his face. He rolled his eyes and then glared at me.

  “Me? I’m going to college,” he whispered back. “What are you doing here, and in my room? Why are you putting your hands on me?”

  “You wish this was about me wanting you,” I said, dropping my hold on him and taking a step back. “I’m here to prevent a major run-in and blow-up. My parents and your dad and step-mom don’t exactly get along. And my parents are stone cold crazy. They don’t even want me going to college and learning the devil’s business.”

  I paced a little in his tiny room.

  “So? How is that my problem?” he asked, turning brusquely from me and bending down to open the large box he had just brought in.

  “Um, hello? I’m moving in down the hall as we speak!”

  He stood quickly, another old blue shirt in his hands, and stared at me in shock. I met his glare and nodded, eyes wide to mirror his horror. He dropped the shirt and put both his hands in his slick black hair. He ruffled it slightly.

  “No way,” he breathed.

  I walked straight up to him and poked him in the chest with my index finger.

  “Yes way. This is happening. And I think we need to figure out a way to keep the peace.”

  I took a couple steps away from him as I focused on solving the problem. In two steps, I whirled around back to his chest and used the same poking gesture I’d just abandoned.

  “Can you maybe keep your parents out of the dorms for the next two hours? That would give us time to get settled and get my folks out of here, so my parents don’t see your parents?” I asked.

  Seth backed up. He turned away from me and back to the box of clothing.

  “Why don’t you all get lost and let me get settled? And why should I even care if our parents see each other?” asked Seth, annoyed. “You’re the one who needs the favor.”

  “My father is down the hall rebuilding my bed from the screws up. I don’t know how long his latest macho-dad obsession will last. He could take an hour,” I hissed. “C’mon, do me a solid. We used to be neighbors.”

  “Yeah, those were just such great days back then, like when you called my mother a harlot,” jeered Seth.

  I paled.

  “I was six years old. C’mon. I didn’t even know what the word meant when I said that,” I insisted. “And I hardly deserved to have my face shoved in dirt for it! But anyway, I’ll buy you a beer or something. Please. This would really, really help me. And it would probably help both our dads’ blood pressure if they don’t see each other. C’mon, we’re going to be neighbors. Again.”

 
I laughed awkwardly.

  “I can’t keep my parents out of here for two friggin’ hours,” he said, hanging one of his shirts in the small closet the dorms came with. “One hour at the most- that’s all I can try to do. Just hurry.”

  “Fine,” I relented, and turned towards the door.

  “And, you have to buy me four beers,” he said. “Because one is lame.”

  I stopped in my tracks.

  “You’re lame,” I shot back. “Two beers.”

  “Three.”

  “Two!”

  “Fine,” he resigned, voice grating. “I don’t see why it should matter, but I’ll go.”

  He started to leave, moving around me to get to the hallway. I grabbed his arm and was instantly surprised at how thick and hard his muscles felt in my hand.

  But I shook it off. The last thing I needed was to think good thoughts about Seth Foster. I pulled him back inside by that arm and checked the hall first for any signs of my parents, then I motioned for him to leave and hurry.

  “Go-go-go,” I whispered.

  He rolled his deep brown eyes and then did as I asked. When he was out of sight, I sighed.

  I couldn’t believe it. I would have to live near Seth, of all people, for the first semester.

  Neighbors, again! What are the odds?

  Plus, he was a jerk. That was made perfectly clear back in high school.

  Ugh, high school. It was like I couldn’t escape the hold of my stupid past, which is all I wanted to leave behind so that I could actually start having a life.

  “How did it look?” asked my mother, when I came back into my dorm room.

  “How did what look?” I said, suddenly forgetting our previous conversation.

  “The bathroom, silly,” she answered, still putting away my clothes. “Was it clean?”

  “Oh, that. Yeah. Super clean and white,” I reported. “Should be able to do all my business there. No problem.”

  I finished with a military salute.

  “Oh, good,” said Mom.

  She waved me over to the dresser.

  “And just so you know, I put the most revealing clothes in the bottom drawer. I know you; you’ll wear whatever is closer to the top.”

  My mother’s idea of revealing clothes was anything short of a burqa. If it were up to her, I’m sure I’d be on my way to a nunnery right now. I watched her place a Bible in the top drawer of my dresser.

  “What’s that? I already have a Bible,” I reminded her. “And it’s the one you gave me.”

  “This is the back-up Bible,” she said. “In case you lose that one or need to loan one to a friend. People read the Bible in college, you know.”

  I made a face. I didn’t think that was an accurate assessment, but I didn’t want to waste the time or brain power to dispute it.

  My mother was going to believe whatever she wanted to believe. I was just happy that in a few short hours she’d be believing it at a safe distance from me and my new social possibilities.

  Dad finished reassembling my bed. It looked exactly the same as it had when I walked into the dorm room several minutes ago.

  “Try it now,” he instructed, mildly proud of himself.

  I sat on the bed.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I confessed. “It feels the same.”

  “It’s better,” he assured me. “Way better than before. Maybe I should talk to the maintenance guy before I leave. Tell him what I did.”

  Dad always wanted to tell everyone what to do.

  “No, it’s great,” I insisted. “Please, you don’t have to do that, Dad. I’m sure they can fix the beds just fine.”

  “Like they fixed this one?” he scoffed. “No-no, I’m going to find someone.”

  I buried my head into my hands. At this rate, they were never going to leave.

  Worst case scenario, he’d actually follow the maintenance guys around, fixing every bed on campus. Best case scenario, the maintenance man would humor his request and that would be enough to satisfy Dad. I was really hoping it would be the latter and not the former.

  “Do you know the name of your roommate?” asked Mom.

  “No, Mom,” I informed her, again. “I don’t have a roommate, remember? I have a single. Everyone at Kensington State gets a single. That’s why the room is so small.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Seems pretty big,” she said, looking around. “But, not as comfortable as your room back home.”

  She got a little teary-eyed and then full on started crying.

  “Oh, Mom, don’t cry,” I said, getting up to give her a hug. “You’re going to make me cry.”

  “I can’t help it,” she said. “It’s just such a big time in your life. You’re off to college and growing up.”

  She sniffled and looked me dead in the face, stopping me in my tracks a few paces from her.

  She sobbed.

  “If you don’t do well, I’ll be so embarrassed.”

  “Uh, thanks Mom,” I said, in response to her self-absorbed statement.

  I was used to acerbic comments from her, but this one was particularly stinging. I told myself it was just because she was upset that I had flown out of the family nest.

  “I’m sure you meant something encouraging when you said that. Or I’ll just tell myself you did, anyway.”

  She didn’t respond, and I decided it didn’t matter. It was time to grow up and face life without my parents— just like I had been telling them I wanted to do.

  I looked around at the dorm room I was about to decorate as my own, and through the window at the palm trees on the campus outside. I wasn’t sure what life here at Kensington State held for me, but it had to be better than being overly sheltered and constantly insulted by my parents.

  If only Seth Foster and his smart ass mouth and handsome body weren’t right down the hall, I would think my newest surroundings were completely awesome.

  Chapter Three

  Seth

  In a few weeks, I was in the full swing of college.

  I was working hard in my classes and staying on top of the ample amounts of homework.

  There was so much reading you had to do. Holy shit. Thank God for the Internet. I couldn’t imagine what it was like in the past, when you had to run back and forth to the library all the time.

  I had made a few friends. Dave and Kendall had been in my orientation session and shared Ethics and History classes with me. Often, we’d eat together in the dorm’s cafeteria.

  We always sat at the same table, the one in the back by one of the cafeteria’s long rectangular windows. It gave us a view of the long open tree-lined field outside. People were always lying out on blankets, playing Frisbee golf or doing yoga out there.

  I instantly loved this part of college. My dad was always working, so I’d never really seen people pursue past times other than the occasional barbeque.

  At dinner time, I was sitting at the usual table, by myself, waiting for them. My books were spread out, so I could save our seats.

  “Seth, what’s up?” greeted Dave, giving me a fist bump. He slid into the plastic chair across from mine. “You crushing this Macroeconomics class or what?”

  I closed my book and looked up at him. Dave was a pretty alright guy. He had just started growing out his brown hair, now that he was out of his parents’ place.

  He had honest, clever brown eyes. He was shorter than me and had a closet full of funny t-shirts and cargo shorts.

  “I don’t know, man, these business models are confusing,” I confessed.

  Kendall plopped down in the seat next to me. He was a skinny guy with a mop of curly blond hair. His tray was overloaded with food.

  “Kendall, are you starving to death?” asked Dave, eyeing the overloaded tray.

  “No,” said Kendall. “I’m making the maximum use of my meal plan. I like to stay up late. Sometimes I get hungry. The cafeteria closes way too early.”

  The cafeteria closed at nine. There
were a few places to get food in the small town that surrounded Kensington State College but, like myself, Kendall was very low on money and had yet to find a part-time job.

  With so many students around, jobs went quickly. I’d been looking for one with no luck. And I hadn’t had a lot of time to search, due to all my schoolwork. It felt like I could never get through the mountain of homework I constantly had.

  Kendall pulled a few Ziploc bags out of his backpack. He started stuffing the sandwiches he had made into them, sealing them up and putting them into his backpack. At one point, he started scooping coleslaw into a bag.

  “Seriously?” I said. “You’re taking coleslaw back to your room? That doesn’t seem like a good idea. Won’t it go bad?”

  My dad had insisted on going all out and getting me a fridge for my dorm room. But a lot of students didn’t have one. And Kendall didn’t have a lot of money.

  “Nah,” dismissed Kendall. “I bought a mini-fridge.”

  “They cost like eighty bucks,” laughed Dave. “Where did you come up with the money for that?”

  “My grandmother gave it to me,” Kendall admitted sheepishly.

  He pulled out a thermos and started pouring out the glasses of milk he had brought to the table and filled it up. He had some left over for lunch, but not much.

  “He’s fascinating, isn’t he?” noted Dave, with a snarky grin. “The male Kendall gathers food and stores it away for the winter. The male Kendall knows there could be tough times ahead and he needs to fill his cheeks with nutrients.”

  “Nice David Attenborough impression. This is totally Blue Planet ‘College Edition’,” I quipped, sitting back in my seat and crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Kendall is truth-telling, though. I get hungry at night, too.”

  I looked down at my own tray, deciding to follow Kendall’s lead and take some of it with me. Wrapping up a grilled cheese sandwich in a napkin, I prepared to put it in my backpack. Kendall tossed me a Ziploc.

  “Here you go,” he said. “You owe me seventeen cents.”