I Hate You, Love Me

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I Hate You, Love Me Page 52

by Jamie Knight


  Dad’s a businessman and he’s the type that doesn’t appreciate someone who doesn’t have a plan. I’ve always known to come to my dad with a proposal, something I have all worked out in advance.

  That’s how I got him to fund my medical school. He was never really a big fan of the idea, but when I had everything laid out, the pros, the cons— short-term and long-term— he was more agreeable. It was comprehensive. He had almost no choice but to let me do it.

  After I’m dropped off outside, I use my key to get into the penthouse. Then I go to the kitchen and make my dad a cup of coffee just the way he likes it – basically black with just a hint of cream. Coming with a gift in hand – however small – is always a good tactic.

  The next thing I do is check the first place that I’m sure my dad will be – his home office. If he’s doing anything, it’s working. That’s just who he is.

  I don’t fault him for it – it’s what’s allowed me to have the life that I do – but he could be considered a workaholic. I probably got a few of my hardworking ways from him. I find him right where I thought he would be.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Savannah, what a pleasant surprise,” he responds, looking up from his computer monitor.

  I walk over to his desk and place the cup by him. I make sure the handle of the mug is turned towards him – details are key.

  “I thought you might like a little pick-me-up.”

  I can tell he’s a little suspicious. The last time we spoke, we were having an argument that did not end well. Usually, after an argument like that, I won’t talk to my dad for a while. He’s the same way.

  I’m not sure if we ever really apologize to one another. We kind of just restart our old routine and then wait until we have another argument and then do it all over again.

  It’s exhausting, but it’s our way. That could be our family motto.

  My dad takes a sip from the cup and nods approvingly.

  “So, what exactly do you want, little one?”

  That’s always been my dad’s nickname for me. He doesn’t use it as often anymore, thank goodness, but he’ll pull it out every now and then when he wants to clear the air between us.

  “I know you’re not here just to say hi,” he continues, after I don’t say anything. “You only ever make me coffee when you want something. Though I wish you’d want something more often because you truly make the best coffee I’ve ever had. But I know this has to do with something more than you randomly wanting to make your ole pops a nice cup ‘a’ joe.”

  That’s true. It’s a very transparent thing for me to do – making him a cup of coffee. It makes it easier for me to broach the topic of asking him for something, at least. I just bring him a nice, fresh mug and he knows what’s about to happen.

  “It has to do with why I was called into the dean’s office today. Apparently, one of my classmates copied off of my test, but, when the two of us were confronted, they refused to confess to that they were the cheater.”

  I decide not to tell my dad who it was exactly that cheated off of me. I know it was shitty of him and I’m still annoyed, but I don’t think Robert needs Papa King’s wrath. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. When my dad wants to be, he can be rather… cruel.

  I continue, “So, in the end, we were both expelled, and I was hoping you could maybe talk to a few of your friends and get me into another school. I’ve been working so hard for this – and you know that. I don’t want to give up after… I want to keep going.”

  My dad looks at me and takes another sip of his coffee. His face is pretty unreadable. I don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s a little terrifying. I feel like my future literally hangs in the balance.

  I’m kind of expecting him to be mad with Robert and demand to know his name. I make a promise to myself not to say anything.

  I know Robert thinks this expulsion has ruined his life, but what my dad could do to him is so much worse. My dad could probably get him barred from almost every med school in like a one-thousand-mile radius. Probably more.

  “That’s rather unfortunate. Well, maybe now you’ll be able to move on.”

  My dad has both surprised me and not surprised me. Surprisingly, he couldn’t care less about the cheating. He couldn’t care less about the person who got me into trouble for cheating. But of course he cares about trying to convince me that I shouldn’t be going to med school, anyway.

  Something he’s said has caught my attention, though.

  “What do you mean, ‘move on’?”

  I don’t think that whatever he means could be a good thing, but I want to give him a chance to explain.

  “Well, this whole thing is proof that you were chasing after a stupid dream. I’ve let you do whatever you want for a while and, now, I think it’s time you realize that maybe this just wasn’t meant to be. You can move on to the next phase of your life and I’d be more than happy to help you.”

  And this is where I’m a little unsurprised. I had hoped he wouldn’t go this route, but I guess Joseph King is a lot more predictable than he’d probably like to be.

  “It wasn’t stupid, dad. It isn’t stupid. I was going to be a doctor. I can still be a doctor. I just need a little bit of help.”

  I’m still trying to keep my cool. I don’t understand why my dad just can’t understand that this is what I want. I don’t know how many more times I can have this argument with him. We’ve been going in circles for the longest time.

  I can’t even remember when this all started. It must have been ages ago. For as long as I can remember, though, this is just how it’s been between my dad and me.

  “Just forget about med school, Savannah. Now, you can finally get married. It’ll be great. I’m sure once everything is over with, you’ll be happy. I’m sure of it. You just need to trust me.”

  What is going on today? Why is every man I talk to so dense? It’s like no matter how much I say what I want or try to give my side – it’s like talking to a brick wall.

  I want to scream and yell and throw things, but I’m getting tired. So tired. And my dad wants me to trust him. How can I trust someone who won’t even take the words coming out of my mouth seriously?

  “I just want to live my own life and make my own decisions,” I tell him. “Why can’t you let me have that? I’ve always been a good daughter, I don’t cause any trouble – why don’t you trust me to live my own life? You can’t hold on to me like I’m a child forever.”

  I’m like a broken record, saying these same things over and over again. I don’t know if I’ll ever be a fully-formed person in my dad’s eyes, though, no matter what I say. He keeps trying to make decisions for me, and to carve out my life path.

  “I don’t want to hear this nonsense,” my dad insists. “You’re going to marry Landon and that’s final. Be happy that he’s still willing. You’ve put him on hold for over five years. I know you have some reservations about him, but he really is a good guy and, once you give him a chance, you’ll realize that. I’m done having this discussion with you.”

  I am totally and completely shocked. Horrified, actually. I’ve known my dad has been wanting me to marry Landon Price ever since forever, but I never thought he would basically force me into a marriage with him. He hasn’t made any explicit threats, but it isn’t hard to hear the underlying insinuations in his words.

  “I want nothing to do with Landon,” I declare. “I’ve told you he’s a total creep. He follows me and treats me like I’m an idiot and a child. He doesn’t value me as a woman or a person. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to be friends with him. I barely want to even know him.”

  My dad shakes his head and turns back to his work. He won’t even look at me anymore.

  I don’t know what to do. I think I’m about to be forced into some weird marriage of convenience and I feel like there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  “Please, listen to me,” I practically beg him. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel. Why won’t
you listen?”

  Nothing I say works. My dad continues to ignore me, working away like that’s a means to distract himself.

  I guess I’ve been dismissed. I really want to say something else, but I know he’ll just keep ignoring me until I leave. He’ll probably ignore me if I protest about this. I grab my things and go.

  What I want to do is cry. What am I supposed to do now?

  I could run away – I have money stored away. My dad gave me own bank account and he’s been giving me an allowance for years. Unbeknownst to him, I try to live rather simply. So, I’ve got years of his deposits into my personal account saved up.

  I could probably be okay until I die. But it would take me forever to get back on track, in terms of becoming a doctor. It would take me years and I’m sure my dad would actively work against me.

  I know that the plain truth is that he’s supported me so far because I’m pretty nonconfrontational. When he makes a solid decision, I typically just do what he wants, but I can’t do this. Just leaving and cutting all ties – that would be almost like a declaration of war.

  Plus, I don’t want to. Sure, I’m so mad at my dad right now. Like, I’m on the edge of hating him, but I still love him. Even though he’s trying to make me marry a guy I totally loathe, he’s my father and I don’t want to do that to him, and, if I have to admit it, I don’t want to do it to myself, either.

  It’s not like I have other fathers out there in this world.

  So, I need to find another way.

  I leave the penthouse and go stand outside. It has started raining, which is absolutely fitting. A bad day just made worse because why not?

  I look up at the sky and let my tears mix with the rain water. I’ve been holding them in since my argument with my dad. I need to just feel bad for a couple of minutes.

  I take a deep breath and compose myself. Letting myself feel bad felt good – it really did – but now I need to take some action.

  What can I do? I need a plan and I need one now. I need to get my dad to let go of the fact that he wants me to marry Landon. It’s not going to happen. I won’t let it. But just saying it over and over is apparently not enough. I need something else that will absolutely convince Dad that there is no way in hell that Landon and I will get married and that there is nothing he can do about it.

  What can stop a marriage?

  What can stop a marriage to a degree that even my dad couldn’t challenge it?

  I think and think and then a lightbulb goes off. It’s a little out there and I wouldn’t be able to do it by myself.

  Who would help me?

  I mean, what I’m thinking is crazy and I would need someone who needs a miracle like I do.

  Maybe Robert.

  He fucking hates me right now, but he needs some kind of windfall. I could use that to my advantage. It’s a little manipulative, but we need each other if we both want to get what we want.

  I get on my phone and look up Robert on the med school student index online. His address is right there, and so is his phone number.

  I could call him – that would be the gracious thing to do – but he’d probably tell me not to come, so, instead, I’ll just show up and hope he doesn’t kick me out. I’ll need to have a game plan for him, too.

  I can’t let this guy steamroll over me. I need to show him we can go toe-to-toe. I also need to show him that if we don’t help one another, then we’re both going to end up getting the short end of the stick. And that in this moment, we need each other.

  Chapter Twelve

  Robert

  After I left the university, I called Brent. I need someone to help me get back a level head. Yelling at Savannah had gotten my blood boiling and I didn’t want to focus on that anger.

  My mood had shifted so much today, that I knew I couldn’t keep moving forward like I had been. I had Brent meet me at my apartment and, now, we’re sitting on my couch, trying to figure this shit out.

  “I can’t believe this is happening to me. I’ve done everything right and I still managed to get screwed.”

  That’s the thought that’s been going through my head for the most part ever since I left the dean’s office. I’ve been thinking about whether there was anything that I could have done to prevent this.

  Maybe not sitting next to Savannah would have done the trick, so that she didn’t have the opportunity to copy my answers. But it’s not like I wanted to sit by her – in fact, I try to avoid that like the plague – but there had only been that one seat beside her left by the time I got to class. And there was no way I could have predicted that this would have happened.

  I may have attributed a lot of negative qualities to her, but I never thought she was a cheater. She seemed to have a sliver of integrity, but it looks like I got even that wrong about her.

  She’s finally proven to me that there’s nothing to redeem her. Who’s to say that she hadn’t cheated her way into med school, and many times after that, and that this is just the first time she was caught?

  Or maybe she had been caught, but her money had always bought her way out of something like this. I guess I was just her collateral damage this time.

  “It really does suck, man. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

  Brent really wants to help, but I don’t want to put him out.

  “Thanks, bro, but it’s not your fault that any of this happened,” I tell him. “I can’t expect you to dig me out of this hole.”

  There really isn’t anyone I can lean on at a time like this.

  There’s only me.

  And that’s not a whole hell of a lot, considering that I don’t exactly have infinite resources.

  “What if I gave you a loan to pay the cost of whatever med school you ended up going to?” Brent suggests. “I’m sure you’ll get into another one since the university can’t say with total certainty that you cheated, so it would be, like, defamation or something for them to put that on your official record. And I know you’d be good for the money.”

  Brent’s offer is really generous and I more than appreciate it, but I can’t bring myself to take him up on it. I do like his thought that this cheating allegation can’t possibly scar me for life— since it isn’t true and the university can’t possibly prove it.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I can’t. It would feel like a handout and I have to get back on my feet on my own.”

  Brent sighs. I can tell he’s annoyed with my response.

  “It wouldn’t be a handout. You’d have to pay me back, and we’re practically family. I mean, I think of you like family. I’d really like to help out. You’re a good friend, you’ve been there for me – come on, man. Let me help you. Please?”

  Brent is close to begging and it’s so nice of him to keep insisting like this. Plus, it is really tempting to take him up on the offer and doing so would clear up a whole lot of problems I’m having right now, but I can’t take that step forward. Money has always been a touchy subject for me, and I know Brent means well, but he has a different relationship with money because he’s so wealthy.

  There’s no way for me to know that I’d be able to pay him back and it’s too big of a risk for me. Plus, money between family and friends can make a situation extra sticky and I don’t want to taint what we have now. Just because I’m desperate doesn’t mean I’m going to compromise my values for a quick fix.

  I shake my head.

  “Thanks again, but no.” I take a hard stance. “It really should be Savannah who’s making offers, anyway. She’s the one who fucked up my life. She’s the one who’s messed everything up.”

  If only she had admitted to cheating, then I’d still be in school with a scholarship, not sitting on my couch, worried about what’s going to happen with my future.

  “She’s so annoying. I really shouldn’t be surprised, though. She’s always been a spoiled brat.”

  Why would anything have changed? She’s had it easy in life and things are just handed to her. Of course, it’s gone
to her head.

  “Always? What do you mean by always? When did you first meet her?” Brent asks.

  “We met when we were kids. You know how when Lindsay and I were younger, our father managed an auto-parts plant. Not the same one he manages now. But the one before that.”

  Brent nods.

  “That sounds vaguely familiar,” he says. “Lindsay has told me about it and mentioned that it was a tough time for your family- when he was laid off from one plant and had to wait quite a while without work until a new plant opened up.”

  “Yeah, exactly. Well, one day, when I was about seven, my dad forgot his lunch – which he would so sometimes – and since it was summer break, my mom had me run it over to him. I decided to explore the grounds of the plant. No one was really paying any attention to me, so I was able to get almost anywhere. I ran into Savannah while I was looking around and the two of us started talking.”

  Now Brent’s raising his eyebrows at me in curiosity, but I ignore him and go on with my story.

  “She was someone new and different. She told me her dad was there for a meeting and, at that point, I didn’t know who her father was, so I didn’t really dig any deeper. We played together, had fun and she let me know that she’d be there every day for the rest of the week since her dad would be bringing her. So, I went back each day and we had fun together and it was great.”

  The look on Brent’s face has gotten even weirder, the more I’ve gotten into the story, but I ignore it for now. He’s become rather interested with my relationship with Savannah. It’s probably my fault, since I’m constantly talking about how much she annoys me. That would raise a couple of red flags for sure.

  “I really liked her and, when it was her last day there, I guess I got curious enough and I asked her why her father was having so many meetings at the plant,” I continue. “By that time, I’d learned she was his daughter of course. Clearly, she wasn’t from around town, so I knew something was different with her. She didn’t seem like the typical auto parts worker’s kid.

 

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