Learning to Live: An Enemy to Lovers Ugly Cry (The Infinite Love Series, Book 1)

by Kira Adams

  I wish.

  My cheeks instantly begin burning as I shake my head no.

  “Who doesn’t have a cell phone in this day and age?” He doesn’t seem to want to let it go.

  I shrug.

  I can feel his eyes on me, examining my every move. It sends goose bumps throughout my entire body.

  “Do you have your driver’s license?” he asks.

  I chuckle. “I have a permit.” I know I’m breaking the law, but I’d much rather drive than have him driving drunk and potentially harm someone.

  “If we get pulled over, it’s on you,” he warns, falling back into his seat.

  I wonder what he will think when we get to my apartment. It’s definitely not the Ritz, and not exactly located in the safest of areas. But it’s cheap, which is all we can afford right now.

  “So, how long have you known about my girlfriend and my best friend?” he asks.

  I don’t know why it matters to him. My opinion has never mattered before. I end up humoring him anyway. “A few months. I saw them sneaking out of a utility closet together.”

  He nods, his lips in a straight line. “I’ve known for a while. I don’t know why I never said anything until now.”

  I shrug, unsure of how he wants me to respond.

  I’m surprised we have been carrying a conversation for as long as we have without a lull. I pull the Porsche into my apartment complex, and I sneak glances his way. I can tell he’s uncomfortable.

  “I live right up there.” I point with my finger. I pull up right in front and stop. “Don’t drive like this, please,” I say quickly as I unbuckle the seatbelt and begin to climb out. “I know you think it’s the right thing to do, but if you hurt anyone because of your choice, you’ll never be able to live it down.”

  He nods stiffly, avoiding eye contact. He exits his car, crossing over to the driver’s side. As soon as I make it inside, I peek my head out from behind the curtain on our window, and Topher’s Porsche is still in our parking lot. There is a faint light illuminating the inside, and I make an assumption that he’s on his phone. I shake my head once more at how strange the day has turned out to be before letting the curtain slip closed again.

  “Madalynne Johnson? Are you freaking kidding me?” Mack wails, drawing attention to us.

  “Shhh, you’re talking so loud. Stop!” My head swivels around the lunch room as our peers continue on with their own conversations.

  “Oh no, uh-uh. You, Ciera, you are a traitor!”

  “What?” I scoff, my hand protecting my heart. “How could you say that?”

  “You went to an A-Team party! Need I say more?” He is staring me down with so much disappointment in his eyes, and it’s difficult to withstand.

  “It was a last-minute decision. It’s not like it was planned or anything.” Somehow the words coming out don’t make it sound any better.

  “It wasn’t planned?” Mack looks at me deadpan. “We hate the A-Team. Going to their party is like walking into the lion’s den. Whatever compelled you to trust Madalynne and go against everything we are about?”

  He’s right. For as long as I can remember, it’s been us against the world. Us against them. This is like the ultimate betrayal. “I wasn’t thinking…I’m sorry.”

  “Damn right you weren’t thinking. You’re lucky you’re cute. I can’t stay mad at you for long.” His words make me blush. I push his shoulder playfully. He loves to toe the line between friends and flirting; it’s a skill he’s more than mastered.

  Choosing to ignore him is my best defense. He’s such a good support system, and I’d hate to lose that. Plus, he deserves a love that is long-lasting and pure. He’s too good for me. I can’t put him through a fraction of what my mom has been going through the past few months, the past few years. He doesn’t deserve it; he still has his whole life ahead of him.

  “You’re super quiet today—what gives?” he asks, his eyes examining my face.

  I shrug. “I’m just tired.” It’s not entirely a lie; lately my energy has been almost non-existent.

  “You sure?” he presses, his gaze switching to the clock on the wall. The bell will ring any minute to signal the end of lunch and then we only have half of the day to go.

  I nod, and we both stand preemptively, heading to the trash can to drop the remnants of our lunch.

  “You going to wish me luck?” I ask. It’s something Mack has been doing for months since he found out my math class has endless A-Team members.

  He scoffs. “Why? You’re so popular now, it’s probably going to become your favorite class.”

  “You’re so annoying,” I grumble as the bell rings and we shuffle toward our respective classes.

  9

  As my eyes flicker open, I realize I can’t avoid it any longer. I can’t avoid him. It’s been a week and a half since I ran out on dinner with Clarke and my father, and after what transpired at the game, I know he’s waiting for me downstairs. I can feel it.

  God, I hope Clarke isn’t here.

  I slip on a light hoodie and sweats and begin making my way down our large, spiral staircase. I can smell the coffee wafting through the air, can hear the low volume of the stereo playing smooth jazz.

  As I enter our kitchen, I take notice of my father seated at the dining room table. The paper is laid out in front of him as he sips his black coffee. I still can’t understand how anyone can like it that way, but I digress.

  He doesn’t hear me at first. It’s not until I grab a mug from the cabinet that I feel his eyes on me.

  “Topher,” he says, animosity radiating from his tone.

  I nod back at him then go back to pouring my coffee. I slide over to the fridge and pull out the creamer, tossing some into my gray mug.

  “Topher,” he says again, sternly. “We need to talk.”

  There it is. The four inevitable words. I’m not even sure how I’m feeling exactly, except for dreading the conversation that is about to happen.

  I place the creamer back inside the fridge and close the door gently, taking small, hesitant steps toward the table. I pull out a chair across from him and plop down on it.

  His eyes are still burning into me, and after a few quick glances at him, I notice the misty look around the edge of his eyes. Has he been crying?

  “Look…” I say, unsure where I am even going with it. “I know you can’t help it, but I just wish you would have thought about me before bringing him to the game.”

  His mouth drops open in surprise. “I know it may not seem like it, but I have been thinking about you and putting you first for the last eighteen years.”

  My brows furrow on impulse. “What are you talking about? You were with Mom then…”

  A sad look crosses his face, and I feel as though he just ripped my heart out.

  “How long have you known?” I ask in a quiet voice, afraid the answer may further complicate our already hostile relationship.

  He sighs loudly, rubbing his hand over his face and then mouth.

  “How long?” I press, this time with more assertiveness behind my question.

  “I’ve known there was something different about me—that I was wired differently, since I was a kid. I didn’t act on it until I was in my early twenties, but then I met your mother.”

  I swallow loudly as I try to digest his words. “Why…” I can’t even finish my sentence. I feel so betrayed.

  “I loved your mother, Topher,” he replies, as if reading my mind. “She was a wonderful woman. But, the heart wants what it wants.”

  I feel sick with his statement. Is this his way of telling me he’s in love with Clarke? Because I can barely handle the fact that the person I’ve always thought was my father, the person I’ve looked up to my entire life and wanted to be, turned out to be an imposter.

  “Does it embarrass you?” he asks, eyeing me.

  I feel like it’s a trick question. Of course it embarrasses me! My fucking father is a fag. But I’m not heartless, and I know how much th
e truth will gut him. It’s a catch-22.

  I look away from his gaze and simply change the subject. “This is a lot to take in. You’re basically telling me the person I’ve idolized for my entire life isn’t real.”

  His face falls, and it tugs at my heart. Although his confession has turned my life upside down, it doesn’t mean I want to hurt him in the same way.

  “I’m still me…” he says in a gentle voice. “I’m still here for you, son. I’m always going to be your father.”

  “I’m going to need some time. I know you want me to meet Clarke, but Dad, I’m not ready,” I admit.

  He nods slightly. “I know, and I’m sorry for pressuring you. I shouldn’t have brought him to your game. I’m sorry.”

  I shrug. “It is what it is.”

  “I just want to get back to where we used to be, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.” A small smile forms on his lips.

  “I have to go get ready,” I say as I finish off my coffee and make my way to the sink.

  “Where are you going?” he asks, a hurt expression playing on his face.

  “I’m going to a movie with Sophia,” I lie. I just can’t stand to talk about his sexuality anymore. My thoughts are racing wondering if my mother ever knew, or if she simply lived a life within his lie. I’m glad she isn’t around to see us now. It would hurt her so much to see how distant we’ve become.

  I enter my bedroom and grab my phone. Normally, I would hit up both Sophia and Joe, but after the way we left things at the party, I haven’t heard from either of them. It’s probably a good thing, because I could see myself ripping them a new one if they tried to contact me.

  I used to be on the track team back in middle school, and running was always an escape for me. After changing into a t-shirt and shorts and lacing up my dusty sneakers, I grab my iPod and take off out of the house and down the street. I’m hoping the fresh air and minor distractions will help clear my head a little.

  The weekend passes by quickly, and before I know it, I’m back to school and it’s Monday morning. I haven’t spoken to or seen my ex-best friend or ex-girlfriend, but I know it’s inevitable as our lockers are all next to one another. If I can carry around all my books for the day, I won’t need to go back at all, and I can avoid them in the halls. Our classes together will be another story altogether. I’m already trying to think up ways to switch seats.

  I’m early to school, and it’s one of the only times it’s ever happened. There are plenty of parking spots to choose from as I pull in and kill the engine. I head inside, focused on getting to my locker before the two traitors show up. As I walk the empty halls, I notice a silhouette of someone sitting on the ground across the way. As I near, I realize it’s Ciera. It’s funny how I never noticed her existence before, and now I feel like I see her everywhere. She glances up quickly from her binder, which is situated on her lap, and then she realizes it’s me, narrowing her eyes back down quickly.

  She is so strange.

  I don’t bother acknowledging her as I spin the lock to open my locker and begin shuffling through my books, tossing them into my backpack. It’s going to be heavy as hell to lug around all day…but I’m willing to do it. I shift my eyes to the clock on the wall, noticing there is only twenty minutes until school starts. My peers are trickling in from outside, slowly filling the halls.

  I hear the obnoxious laugh, and my heart stops. I thought I had more time. Sure enough, my eyes wander to the door leading into the school, and Sophia’s bright green eyes and brown curls come into focus. I notice she is walking in on the arm of Joe. That didn’t take long. Other people are gasping, whispering, and staring. It’s something I’ve become accustomed to, always being the talk of the town. Comes with the territory, I guess.

  They haven’t seen me yet, so I spin on my heel to race toward my first period class. I’m hoping they miss me altogether. I hear yet another obnoxiously loud laugh, and I turn my head in their direction. I can’t help it…I have to see what is so funny. Sophia is stroking Joe’s bicep, smiling mischievously up at him. She pulls her eyes away from him and locks them directly with mine. It’s as if she planned this. As if she knew I was here all along.

  I break the stare and turn back around. I’ve had about enough of that.

  A loud shriek pierces the air, chilling my bones. I stop abruptly in my tracks, spinning back around. There is now a large crowd of people hovered around the area I just saw Ciera in. I don’t know what is happening, but curiosity takes over my legs, and I end up back in the same vicinity I had been so anxious to flee. I push past a couple of people and notice Sophia is standing in front of Ciera, an empty coffee cup in her hands. I shift my eyes downward, noticing the contents of her cup are doused all over Ciera’s hair, clothes, books, and belongings.

  Joe and Sophia are cackling with laughter, and others are joining in. People are beginning to point and grab their stomachs from hearty laughter.

  None of this feels right. I know I can’t simply walk away now.

  I push angrily through the crowd until I come face to face with Joe and Sophia.

  “Topher…” Sophia says, shocked that I am standing before them. She reaches out for my arm, and I rip it away.

  “What’s going on here?” I ask, staring between the traitors and Ciera, who is fumbling to gather her belongings. Normally, I wouldn’t give the situation a second glance, but now that I am distancing myself from my former best friend and girlfriend, I feel as though my vision is beginning to clear. They’ve been bullying this girl since middle school, and although I’ve been guilty of joining in myself, I’ve never held a personal vendetta for her. Something tells me their bullying is all for a reason.

  “What does it look like?” Joe asks coldly. “You know, you really have to learn to take things at face value, Toph. I mean, I was fucking Sophia for over eight months, and you were blind to that too.”

  Sophia’s mouth drops open as the crowd of onlookers gasp at his confession. They are getting their fill of drama this morning.

  I pull back my fist and punch him straight in the face. He falls backward a few steps then charges at me, tackling me and taking me to the ground roughly. We’re wrestling, but he has the upper hand. He is sitting on top of me, throwing punches left and right. People are screaming, cheering, and recording the fight on video. I am definitely getting my ass kicked.

  “Stop, Joe!” I hear Sophia wail, and she’s pulling at him to get him off me when his elbow accidentally rams her in the face. She falls back from surprise and the general impact, grabbing her eye.

  I can hear shuffling of footsteps, and I know we are about to be reprimanded.

  “What is going on here?” I hear a stern male voice ask. A few moments later, I feel Joe being pulled off of me. “My office, now!” our principal orders, his eyes angry and his face fuming.

  I just hope I don’t get suspended.

  10

  I smell like a vanilla latte. Probably one made with soy, knowing how hoity-toity Sophia is. She not only got my hair and clothes, she also managed to ruin all the homework I’ve been working on for the past hour. I’m drying it with a paper towel, but it’s clear that none of it is salvageable. I was on the verge of tears when Topher showed up.

  What was he doing there anyway?

  I watched Principal Moore cart both Joe and Topher to his office, and then he ordered Sophia and me to follow. He allowed me to be excused so I could clean up first, but I am dreading the fact that I have been summoned. I am going to have to come face to face with the bitch who spilled coffee all over me, and I’m going to have to lie about everything if I want to be able to semi-exist in this school without her making my life a living hell—not that she isn’t already doing that…but even more so.

  My stomach is in knots as I slowly make my way to the main office. I should be in class by now, but instead I have to spend my time dealing with a confrontation I didn’t even cause. As I enter the glass office, I take note of Joe and Sophia seated in t
he waiting area and realize I am going to have to sit right next to them. My stomach continues to do summersaults.

  Topher is MIA, more than likely meaning he was called in first. Sophia glares at me while Joe just chuckles under his breath. I sit down and tune the pair out. After what seems like an eternity, Topher walks out of Principal Moore’s office, and Joe is called in immediately after. Joe and Topher exchange icy glares as they pass one another, and then Topher’s eyes shift to mine. He doesn’t bother saying anything as he passes me, walking out into the hall.

  I still don’t know what to think about what happened. I still don’t know why he approached the pair in the first place. He probably just heard the commotion and wanted to know what was going on.

  After waiting another hour, I am finally called into Principal Moore’s office. I pass by Sophia, who roughly rams her shoulder into mine as she passes. Graduation cannot come soon enough.

  I close the office door behind me and take a seat.

  “Ciera,” Principal Moore greets me. “So, I’ve heard a few different variations of what happened, but I am looking for you to tell me now.”

  I nod, swallowing. “Sophia and I got into an argument, and she dumped coffee all over me,” I lie. “I’m not sure exactly what happened between Topher and Joe…I had nothing to do with that.”

  He nods slightly, his lips in a tight line. “Sophia said you egged her on.”

  Of course she did. I nod. “That sounds about right.”

  Principal Moore continues to eye me, as if he isn’t buying a word I’m saying. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  If I get off without a punishment and Sophia remains in trouble, I know I will regret it. The only way out of this mess is to make sure we are equally responsible in his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me,” I bite out.

  He looks beyond surprised by my rudeness, and he ends up shuffling the papers in front of him. I watch as his brown eyes dart between me and his papers, probably trying to figure out what in the hell to do with me.