A Love Hate Thing

by Whitney D. Grandison

  Mrs. Bradley turned to me. “It’s a shame your mother couldn’t tear herself away from work to be here.”

  It was a jab. My mother hated the Pacific wives and their judgment of her. Most women in Pacific Hills were housewives who spent their days at the club with friends and shopping, spending their husbands’ money. My mother was the anomaly, choosing to work and get her hands dirty rather than sitting back and playing some cliché role while my father worked. My mother inspired me. I loved seeing her work, even if it meant less one-on-one time. I hated the wives for mocking her.

  “She’s developing an important project, but she sends her love,” I said, forcing a smile. Under the table, Shayne squeezed my knee, and I reached out and squeezed hers back.

  Ms. Ray adjusted her jeweled brooch. “Well, someday you’ll marry a successful man, and you won’t have to worry about missing out on social priorities.”

  “But then he’d be the one away all the time,” Shayne said.

  Mrs. Bradley gave her faux smile. “The price you pay these days. What else could you ask for in a partner but a hard worker, dear?”

  “Oh, I don’t care for much. Just as long as he makes me smile and laugh, I’m great,” I said. My husband having a fancy career where he was away all the time didn’t seem appealing. And what was I supposed to do all day if not work?

  Mrs. Bradley cleared her throat, taking and bringing her mug to her lips as a sour expression briefly marred her face. “Well, that’s cute and all, Nandy, but we mustn’t think childishly. After all, you can’t live on smiles and laughter.”

  I focused on my hands. “Right, I want a guy with goals and a career in mind, and great genetics for our children.”

  Mrs. Bradley perked up. “Much better.”

  I was being sarcastic. I suppose she hadn’t caught that.

  Mrs. Bradley faced me, appearing serious. “You must ask yourself, what can a boy do for me besides offer up a good time.”

  Ms. Ray tapped Mrs. Bradley on the arm and could barely contain her smile. “Remember last year, when Nicole Hudson said she aspired to be happy?”

  They laughed before Mrs. Bradley said, “What a shame she wasn’t able to debut.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. Of course, they had the power to knock me out of debuting.

  Shayne squeezed my knee again, and I looked over, finding a scowl on her face and a pool of tears in her eyes. Her father had the type of job where he was always on the go, and she was never a priority for him. She hated it, and I could only assume how much the line of conversation was hurting her.

  “Excuse me.” Shayne stood up and beelined for the restroom.

  Ms. Ray watched her go. “I wonder if Taylor will sober up enough to make it.”

  Mrs. Bradley smirked. “Doubt it.”

  It was as if they’d cut me with their words. How could they say those things? I was glad Shayne was gone, because if there was one thing that made her self-destruct, it was talk about her parents.

  I opened my mouth, prepared to scream—

  A hand came down on my shoulder, and I jumped and turned around to find Chad standing there.

  He gave me a smile that erased my angst. He leaned down and kissed my cheek before going and doing the same to his mother.

  “Good morning,” he said to us all.

  “Chad, what brings you by?” Mrs. Bradley asked.

  He braced his hands on the shoulders of my chair and leaned his weight onto it. Having him behind me made me feel better. “I just had to stop by and ask Nandy something. It’s important. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “Nonsense.” This time when Mrs. Bradley smiled, it was genuine and full of love for her son. She turned the smile to me, and it was real. “Nandy and I were just planning your futures. Weren’t we, Nan?”

  I forced a laugh. “Yeah, watch out, Chad, she’s got you working sixty hours a week.”

  “Sheesh, all work and no play, Mom?”

  “That’s what now is for.” Her gaze was on me as she spoke. “Live while you’re young, because once you’re an adult, the fun’s over. All work and no play.”

  My stomach felt on the verge of imploding.

  I would rather be poor than stuck in a marriage with no fun or passion.

  “But if you must speak to her, go on,” Mrs. Bradley said.

  Chad took my hand and led me out of the room, passing Shayne on the way. In the hall, he was quick to press me against the wall and kiss me. I giggled against his lips and rested my hands on his shoulders.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sure you could use the escape. We all know how neurotic my mom can be.”

  This was why I loved Chad Bradley. He’d come here just to rescue me from enduring more of his mother and her friend.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. “You saved me.”

  Chad smiled. “That bad, huh?”

  “The worst.”

  “Well, let’s go. We can watch that movie you love so much. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  I sent Shayne a text, telling her to fake an emergency so she could escape as well—no one deserved to go it alone with those two ladies—and walked away with my savior.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Chad and I were in his bedroom, lying back watching something on the large flat-screen mounted on the wall. In Chad’s arms, I felt safe. It definitely beat suffering through Mrs. Bradley’s torture.

  Chad held me close, and I lay back against his chest. It felt good. It felt comfortable. It felt like home.

  “This’ll all be over as soon as you debut,” he said.

  “No it won’t, it’ll only get worse. There’ll be more events and more mentoring,” I replied.

  “I’m sorry she’s like that. It’s this town, you know?”

  “I don’t ever wanna be a Pacific wife, Chad. I wanna do more with my life than breed the next class of bitch.”

  He kissed my cheek. “You won’t. You’re going to be some hot career woman, and I’ll mooch off of you.”

  I laughed. “And what do I get out of this?”

  He wiggled his brows. “I’ll compensate in my own special way.”

  I bit my lip and went back to looking at the TV. “We’ll build our own future, something more than this.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and held me closer. “Got that right.” It was quiet for a while until he spoke again. “Trice make it back in one piece?”

  I thought of the illegal activity he might’ve participated in the previous evening. Whatever it was, it hadn’t fazed him. “Yeah.”

  “He’s gonna be okay, Nandy. He just needs some guidance.”

  “Tonight we’re all going to the Hook, right?”

  “That was the plan.”

  “Maybe he’ll come out.”

  “Maybe.”

  Chad was a great guy, the best guy I knew. He had his flaws, but they made him more human.

  “Can you look out for him, be his friend, and show him around?” I asked. At least Tyson couldn’t easily scare another guy into backing down. I wanted him to warm up to Pacific Hills. I wanted him to belong.

  Chad kissed me once more. “Sure thing.”

  15 | Trice

  I was in the middle of Roots when a knock made me look up. Parker entered through the open door.

  “Doing some homework?” he asked.

  “Yeah. The assignment’s not due until the end of the semester, but I like the book.”

  Parker examined my room, his gaze stopping on my still-packed bags. “You getting along with the boys around here?”

  I thought of Travis. “Yeah, a little.”

  “Good. Nandy was telling us she’s going out tonight with her friends t
o the Hook. Maybe you should join them.”

  “Not interested.”

  “You sure? They’ve got great live music, alcohol-free drinks, and good security so there’s no major brawls. You could have fun.”

  I fiddled with my book. “I’m having fun with Kunta.”

  Parker’s forehead creased. “It doesn’t end well for Kunta.”

  I disagreed. “That’s an interpretation. The way I see it, his blood saw freedom through Chicken George. He got out—Kunta’s lineage didn’t die in slavery.”

  Parker looked impressed. “I admire a good scholar.” He again eyed my luggage. “Planning on getting comfortable?”

  I glanced at the bags in question. “I am comfortable.”

  “Maybe you’ll be more comfortable if you unpack one bag at a time.”

  Knowing that the point was to try, I conceded. “Good idea.”

  “So you’re really staying in, huh?”

  “Yeah, I’d rather get my reading done.” Not that I was otherwise interested in associating with Nandy and her friends out on the town.

  Parker sighed. “I just feel bad for Nandy.”

  “Why?”

  “If you’re not going out, neither is she.”

  I lifted a brow, closing my book. “You are aware that this is blackmail, right?”

  By the grin on his face, he knew exactly what he was doing. “Lucid.”

  Stifling the urge to roll my eyes, I asked, “And Jordy?”

  “Is far too young to go to the Hook.” Parker moved to the doorway but stopped and looked back at me for a moment. “Get dressed, Trice, you don’t wanna be late. Go out and have some fun, live a little. It’s summer.”

  His idea of fun included my going out with Nandy and her clique of friends? Honestly, I would’ve rather hung out with Travis. At least with him, there’d be no bullshit. While I had no direct reason to dislike Nandy’s friends, I just wasn’t interested in trying with them. Erica was okay and Shayne wasn’t too bad, but still. Nothing beat home.

  I went and poked my head into Nandy’s room after knocking and getting the green light to open the door, finding her zipping up a purple strapless dress that clung to her curves.

  “We’re taking separate cars,” I told her, catching her attention.

  Nandy lit up. “You’re going?”

  Unfortunately. “Looks that way.”

  Shayne, who was sitting on Nandy’s bed wrapped in a towel, perked up. “Hey, Trice!”

  I shifted my attention to her. “I’m thinking about growing a beard, Shayne.” I left the girls to get ready, already knowing there was far more fun to be had with Kunta Kinte.

  * * *

  Chad came and got the girls, and I followed them to what was apparently a teen nightclub. When we’d left the Smiths’ house, I’d heard the girls mumbling about some indie singer who was showing up, and how they were ecstatic about it. That, and the fact that Erica was also deejaying, with her cousins set to do a routine.

  This oughta be interesting.

  We weren’t in the door a full minute before we bumped into Travis and Matt. Travis said something to Chad, and Chad glared at him before taking Nandy and Shayne away.

  Travis seemed happy with himself. “God, I love that momma’s boy.”

  Matt rolled his eyes, and I managed to laugh. At least I wasn’t the only one who disliked Chad.

  “So, you showed up,” Travis said as he greeted me with a fist bump.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” I said.

  Travis rubbed his hands together deviously. “Boys, it’s gonna be a long night.” He turned to me first. “We’re going to find a girl for you to make out with.” He faced Matt. “And I already know your type—tall, blond, athletic, and sweet.”

  “Geez, Trav, can we wait a month until you start trying to get me to cheat on my boyfriend?” Matt sighed, pretending to sound exasperated.

  “Who dates during the summer?” Travis asked as we moved farther into the club. “I mean, look at the endless possibilities in front of you. Ben left—you two should’ve taken a break.”

  Matt appeared apologetic as he faced me. “Don’t let him get to you, we all mostly ignore him.”

  “If he loves Ben, three months shouldn’t mean anything,” I told Travis.

  He wasn’t interested. He was already scanning the club, looking like he was itching to score.

  Matt watched as his best friend took off toward the dance floor. “Let the debauchery begin.”

  Matt followed Travis, and I took my time, measuring the club out. The vibration of the loud music made me feel alive, and the heat from the packed space almost made me feel claustrophobic. The scent of sweat mixed with a medley of body spray and cologne hung in the air as I made my way around the establishment.

  The decor was that of a pirate’s ship, where all the wood was made to appear old and moldy. A rope hung from the beams of the ceiling, and there were fake parrots all over the place, along with hooks. The over-twenty-one crowd were walking around wearing neon-orange wristbands made of rope to establish their ability to drink alcohol, while the rest of us underage were bare.

  On the second floor, I spotted Erica on a makeshift balcony designed as a plank, deejaying. Ashley stood beside her talking to Warhol, who seemed to be shouting over the loud music.

  Waitresses, and even the bartender, took part in the Hook’s pirate theme as they were dressed in costume to play the role.

  I found my way up to the nearest lounge on the second floor, doing my best to meander through the crowd and block out the awful pop music that was playing. When I got to an empty sitting area, the lights in the club dimmed and a spotlight shone onto the center of the club.

  “Get up out of your seats, folks!” Erica’s shout could be heard through the house speakers. “Show some love for my favorite cousin and his crew, DEFCON Yee. They’re about to tear this place down and kick it old-school!”

  Everyone on the second floor stood and headed to the railing to get a good view.

  Down in the center of the club, on the dance floor, stood six Asians and a Latino. Four boys and three girls, all clad in matching colors. The girls wore black short-shorts with gray vests and red bras, while the boys wore black shorts, red vests, and gray tank tops. Every member of the crew had something unique about their hair or the accessory they chose to wear with their outfit, but together they were a unit.

  The lights went out and flickers of red, yellow, and blue light shone through the club as the remix to Busta Rhymes’s “Touch It” began playing and DEFCON Yee started their routine. The girls left the unit first, crip-walking to the side before turning to point to the boys, who took it as their cue to begin break-dancing, popping and locking.

  The crowd buzzed with cheers and chants for more as the crew reacted to the beat of the song, feeding off it. When a second Busta Rhymes song came on, “Pass the Courvoisier, Part II,” the crowd’s animation heightened, and I was almost surprised no one rushed the dance floor to join in as bodies around me began bouncing to the song.

  Watching the people react and seeing DEFCON Yee kill it, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

  Maybe there was some action in Pacific Hills after all.

  After DEFCON finished their set, Erica took the mic and thanked them for the show, then loudly kicked off the start of summer vacation. Everyone cheered, raising their drinks in the air.

  Maybe Parker had been right in forcing me out of the house. The atmosphere was too jubilant to dwell on anything negative, and being left on my own made it easier to begin to transition to this fresh start.

  About twenty minutes later, Shayne found me, coming over to where I was kicking back in the lounge area and sitting on my lap. Deciding to play along with her game, I wrapped an arm around her. This caused her to smile and lean into me.

  Shayne reached o
ut and stroked my jaw, rubbing the back of her hand on it. “You’d look awful with a beard, Trice.”

  Shayne was mad pretty in her little black dress. She had some of her dark brown hair pinned back, leaving a light dusting of her baby hairs against her forehead, and the rest of her hair falling in curls around her face and dropping to her shoulders. With her big brown eyes and admittedly cute smile, Shayne wasn’t so bad at all.

  Even if it was all a facade. This bad girl act wasn’t fooling me a bit.

  Sitting back, I stared up at Shayne’s impish grin. “Some may say that beards are the new mustache.”

  Shayne wrinkled her nose, appearing adorable. “I didn’t like that trend, either. I guess I just like my guy clean-shaven. I mean, if I endure painful waxes for you, might you shave for me?” She again caressed my jaw. “Of course, I do like scruff.”

  “Yeah?”

  Shayne nodded. “Uh-huh. It’s sexy, but then you got the guys who go full beard, and it’s gross.”

  “Some might say that scruff can be quite...sharp,” I said, feeling playful. “Might even stab you between—” I dropped my gaze to her thighs “—your knees.”

  Shayne’s flush was all the confirmation I needed in our game.

  She giggled and slapped my chest. “You can’t hold that against me, I was only talking to Nandy.”

  Despite Nandy’s warning, I got the sense that Shayne was a nice girl, and it wouldn’t be a big deal to hang out with her, much like it wasn’t so bad hanging around Travis.

  “You don’t want a guy like me,” I came out and told her.

  She frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because there’s no love in me.”

  “Who says I’m looking for love?”

  I chuckled. “I’m not like the others, Shayne.”

  “That’s the point.”

  “So let’s not pretend I’m fooled by your act like they are, okay?”

  “Act?”

  “Act.”

  “Okay, then.” Shayne sat up straight on my lap, reached out and procured my hand. “And let’s also not pretend that I’m fooled by your act, Trice.”

  I lifted a brow. “Act?”