A Love Hate Thing

by Whitney D. Grandison

  I rolled my eyes. “Kyle Frogge.”

  Shayne shrugged. “Oh, I went to Edi’s last night. I only brought up Froggie and his pictures because I knew Parker would feel sorry for me and let you two go out alone. I can wait until the school newspaper comes out before seeing those pictures and remembering how I was supposed to be in them.”

  “Yearbook.”

  “Same thing.” Shayne sighed. “Besides, last night was a total bust. Warhol wasn’t even up for flirting with me—he kept going on and on about tracking Mani’s GPS on her phone.”

  I frowned. “Why are we friends with him?”

  Shayne chuckled. “Because he’s Warhol and we love him.” Her dark eyes soon fell upon my composition book. “So, how’s that going?”

  Again I frowned. “I think I’m finished.”

  “Can I read it?”

  I shook my head, and she stuck out her lip in a pout. “Is that supposed to work?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m me.”

  “Not going to happen.” I flipped through the pages of my book, unsure if it was really done or not. “It’s more of a story, about me, and Nandy.”

  “Come on, you can trust me. I’m a hopeless romantic, and I love a good love story.” Shayne got out of her seat and pretended to massage my shoulders, for all of a second before going and snatching my notebook. “Besides, you’ve been agonizing over these pages for hours. It’s time to get out of here and live a little. Let me see if sucks or not, okay?”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “I’d value your opinion. You do read a lot.”

  “Duh, I’m an expert on these things. You’re in good hands. Now you are going to hit the town with your smoking-hot girlfriend, and I have some beach reading to get into.”

  “You’re such a brat, Shayne.”

  She blew me a kiss. “You know you love me.”

  “You’re lucky you’re my best friend, or I wouldn’t let you get away with that cute crap.” I stood from the table, still a little nervous at the idea of Shayne reading my work.

  She held the notebook to her chest, staring at me. “I’m your best friend?”

  I shrugged. “Outside of Travis, I like to think that, if I needed someone to talk to, it’d be you. You both never judged me or pulled any funny BS. I admire that.”

  Shayne smiled. “Nice to know I’m appreciated.” She held up my notebook. “But I’m still not going easy on you if this thing totally sucks.” She tossed me a sassy look and skipped her way into the house.

  I shook my head. Pacific Hills girls were going to be the death of me.

  Nandy was in control, which wasn’t a surprise, as she led the way to her car and had me ride shotgun.

  In the beginning, riding in the car with Nandy had been a pain due to our different tastes in music, but after a while, I’d grown to like her favorite singers and artists. Only, this wasn’t one of those occasions.

  She put on some song with a catchy beat, and when the artist started singing I realized she was playing some shitty mumble rapper. Nandy giggled at my scowl, and I soon found it hard to be angry at the sight of her swaying to the music and smiling. How could the devil be so beautiful?

  Nandy sang along and swayed some more, using her free arm to wave her hand in the air—in my face.

  “He’s literally just listing shit,” I pointed out.

  Nandy shrugged and kept singing along to the song. I thought I’d fixed her taste. Clearly not.

  She pulled into a lot that was attached to a strip of shops. We got out of the car, and I followed as she led the way to the first one.

  “We are going on a day date,” Nandy announced. “And what better day date than cooking?”

  Warmth rushed through me. It sounded perfect.

  We entered the small establishment. A few couples were already standing at workstations, and a man in a chef uniform was at the front of the room. The cool gust of the AC was welcome against the heat from outside.

  Nandy made a fuss to pay for our experience, and I let her win before leading the way to an empty work area.

  “Welcome, class.” The man in the white uniform greeted us once we were all ready. “I’m Chef Tomas, and today we will be preparing cabbage rolls.”

  A collection of oohs resonated around the room, and I was honestly eager to learn this dish. On some occasions, my mom had bought cabbage rolls, but being able to make them myself would be even better.

  Nandy faced me with worry. “I was hoping we’d be making spaghetti.”

  Who couldn’t make spaghetti? “This is even better.”

  Still, Nandy was apprehensive. “I’m going to suck.”

  She was being a baby, so I moved behind her and held her close, noticing at once how she relaxed into me as Chef Tomas went on. I listened closely, all while admiring the scent of Nandy’s sweet-smelling perfume. I wasn’t the cuddly type, but I could get used to this girl in my arms.

  First, Chef Tomas had us Saran Wrap a head of cabbage and nuke it for fifteen minutes, and since that seemed an easy task, I left it to Nandy while I seasoned our ground beef and added in the pack of ready rice. When I was a kid, I used to love volunteering to hand-mix my mother’s meat loaf just to get my hands all dirty with the egg, beef, and bread crumb mixture.

  “See, this isn’t so hard,” I assured Nandy.

  She widened her eyes. “Oh wow, I pressed buttons on a microwave.”

  I chuckled. “It’s a step up from toast.”

  When the microwave went off, Nandy carefully grabbed the cabbage and placed it on the counter before her. The smell wasn’t appetizing, warranting us each to wrinkle our noses. We let it cool down before I peeled off the Saran Wrap and a leaf for her and myself.

  Chef Tomas was at the front of the class with his own demonstration. “All you need to do is supply a good amount of your filling in the center of each leaf. Roll the cabbage around the filling like a burrito and tuck in the sides, and then roll the cabbage all the way up.”

  I followed his method, perfectly making my first cabbage roll.

  Nandy’s was a mess.

  She groaned as she went for a second attempt, and then a third.

  Finally, I went up behind her. “Tuck and roll.” She angled her neck to where I could rest my head on her shoulder as I guided her. “See.”

  Nandy nuzzled me close. “Not bad.”

  The class went on, but Nandy paused. “Hey, let’s take ours home to bake. Maybe it could be for dinner and soften the blow some more.”

  “Maybe your dad will see it as a peace offering?”

  That caused Nandy to frown as she gazed at our rolls. “Let’s go grab something to eat?”

  “Sure.”

  Chef Tomas was surprised at our willingness to take our raw rolls home to cook, but excused us from the class as we wrapped our rolls to go.

  We dropped the rolls off back at the house to store in the fridge before heading to the Crab Shack, because Nandy was craving fish, and the idea of fish and fries sounded too good to pass up.

  “So you let Shayne read your journal?” Nandy brought up as she sat on the other side of the booth from me.

  “It’s not a journal, it’s sort of a story,” I told her.

  Her brows furrowed. “About me?”

  Now I felt sorta shy. “About me, and...us.”

  “Oh,” said Nandy. “And Shayne’s reading it? Maybe she’ll give you a critique?”

  “Maybe.”

  Nandy was quiet as she poked at her fish. “I’m sorry about how that all turned out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I was selfish and intruded on your friendship with her. I don’t want things to be weird for you two.”

  “She’s become my best friend here, besides Travis. I think we’re going t
o be okay. It wasn’t really all you. I like Shayne, she’s a great girl, but before we became cool I was working on a friendship with Kyle, and he likes her.”

  “I’m glad you guys are still gonna be close. And who knows, maybe you can bring Kyle around and see what happens.”

  “Nah, he’s gotta stand on his own two and step to her.”

  “Maybe tomorrow night at the Hook.”

  “Oh that, you’re going?”

  Nandy shrugged. “Of course. Erica wants us girls to go as each other’s dates. You and the guys should come, it’ll be fun.”

  “Sure. I’m going to need something to keep my mind off Shayne reading my book.”

  “Don’t stress it, writing is just therapy for you,” Nandy encouraged. “Unless writing is something you think you wanna do.”

  I sat back in the booth, staring at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Have you thought about college and what you wanna study?”

  College had never crossed my mind. My life had always been about survival and my mother, and half the time I never even thought about school. I used to cut school, a lot.

  One thing I knew about the Hills was that its schools and parents bred Somebodies, meaning, everyone had a career in mind or was thinking about college or their future. There was no time to be stagnant, it wasn’t acceptable. It was enough to make you feel defective, if you really didn’t know what the hell you wanted to do with your life.

  “I like writing, differentiating characters and settings, but as far as college goes, I never saw myself there. I had a different mind-set then.”

  “And now?”

  A quote by Marianne Williamson came to mind, and I knew that I couldn’t let the fear of not being good enough beat me.

  “Now I’m sure that, between Max and Lydia, Ms. Gonzalez, college is very much going to be pushed on me. I don’t know, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

  “Whatever you decide to do, I’m with you.”

  I spotted Chad and his friends entering the establishment. Upon hearing the rowdy boys around Chad, Nandy soon noticed them, too. They didn’t see us, but Nandy still sank into her seat.

  It wasn’t acceptable. We already couldn’t be together at her house—out in town, we couldn’t let anything get between us.

  I reached out and squeezed her hand. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “I know.”

  “Then let’s not hide it.”

  Nandy peered up at me, appearing unsure. “Do you think my dad will kick you out?”

  “I don’t know. I can tell he’s adamant about not approving.”

  “It’s just not fair, you know? You’re finally happy, and he wants to ruin it.”

  “We’ll be fine. It pays that he’s hardly around due to his schedule. We’ll find a way to show them that we’re legit if we’re...you know.”

  Nandy giggled. “Going steady?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Okay.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Are we, though, together in that way?”

  “I’ve only had one girlfriend, and I wasn’t good to her. I feel different with you, I always have. I don’t know how to do this, though.”

  “You just go with the flow.” She stopped to think. “And roll with the homies.”

  I shook my head. “Never say that again.”

  She came around the booth and sat on my lap, wrapping her arms around me. “We can do this, Tyson. We just have to trust each other.”

  I held her close, staring up at her. Trust and vulnerability had been weaknesses to me before; it felt scary relinquishing both to this girl who was stronger than me in this thing we were doing, this girl who had all the power.

  There was this quote about a king bowing only to his queen, and how he wasn’t anything without her, because like in a game of chess, she protected him and kept him focused.

  My heart was fragile and timid; offering it up felt asinine, but I couldn’t let anxiety get in the way. I couldn’t be a coward.

  Leaning over, I pressed my head to Nandy’s shoulder and rested there. I felt secure when she ran her hand over my head, soothing me, probably knowing what I was thinking.

  “Can we get out of here?” I asked as I looked up at her.

  She was massaging my scalp. “Where to?”

  We couldn’t go home. We wouldn’t be able to be together there. “The model home.”

  She stood and held out her hand to me, and I knew, as I accepted her outstretched hand, that this was what I wanted more than anything.

  34 | Nandy

  The girls wanted to go all out for Thursday night. The theme was Throwback Thursday, so in honor of that we made an effort to dress up. Erica looked amazing in her basketball jersey dress with Timberland heeled boots. Edi and Shayne wore matching Juicy Couture hoodies and shorts sets, Edi’s baby blue and Shayne’s pink. I kept it simple in a denim jumpsuit that offered plenty of cleavage and legs.

  We were throwing it back to the early 2000s style, enjoying ourselves and the atmosphere. We hung out in a group, watching the boys we knew flirting with girls and using their best game. Warhol had a girl eating up his best lines as he danced with her to Flo Rida’s “Low,” and Travis could be seen getting number after number. Tyson was around, either talking to one of the guys or sitting back and enjoying the music. The girls and I stayed together until Erica had to go and do her gig.

  All of the Hook was up dancing to the old Nelly song “Hot in Herre” as Erica played the tune at the DJ booth and couples ground into each other.

  “Ladies!” Erica shouted over the microphone as the record ended. “How many of you love you some real hip-hop?” The crowd of girls screamed their agreement, egging Erica on. “How many of you rock with Nas? Eve? Q-Tip? How many of you love you some hot boys?”

  I made sure to scream and holler my answer just as other girls were screaming, too. Erica put on a record by Missy Elliott called “Hot Boyz,” and more dancing ensued.

  Across the club, I spotted Tyson with Warhol and Matt. He was eyeing me, slitting his eyes, obviously having seen my cheering. I blew him a kiss, and he shook his head, still smiling nonetheless.

  Travis came to the bar and got a bottle of water, and then sat back beside me, scoping out possible victims.

  He slid his attention to me, wiggling his eyebrows. “’Sup?”

  “You look like you’re creepin’,” I replied.

  Travis smiled. “I am.” He gestured his head toward the club floor, and I looked over to where Xiu was weaving her way through the crowd of dancing bodies. “She’s dying for it.”

  “Geordan will kill you,” I let him know, “and then Erica will revive you and kill you again.”

  Travis smirked. “It’s just a dance. It could be us, but you know how that goes.”

  I frowned. “Do you think he’d care?”

  “Trice?” Travis shrugged. “He doesn’t seem like the jealous type.”

  Chad had never cared whenever we’d all gone to the Hook together and I danced with Warhol, Matt or Ashley. It had never been a big deal, because everyone knew where things lay. With Tyson, I wasn’t sure if it was something he would like or not. Thinking of him dancing with another girl, I wasn’t sure if I would like it myself. It was odd; I had never felt possessive or that attached before. There was this selfish part of me that wanted Tyson all to myself, and a greedy part that wanted to be the only one who savored the feel of his hands.

  I took a sip of my Diet Coke, knowing I needed to loosen up. It was too fast to feel so much.

  Travis eyed Xiu where she was standing with Edi and Shayne, moving a little to the beat. She looked a little nervous and shy, a little out of place. A slow smile took his lips. “God, she wants it so bad. I’m getting her next song.”

  The universe was on Travis’s side, because as the beat to
the next song came on, I cringed.

  “Travis, no!” I begged at the sound of Ginuwine’s “Pony” beginning to play.

  Travis closed his eyes, taking in some air, as if he were inhaling the feel of the beat. “Done.”

  Without hearing my plea, he swaggered over to Xiu in a way that caused me to scratch at my neck. Watching him circle her, lean in close to her ear and whisper to her, peer into her eyes, I could actually understand the spell and appeal of Travis Catalano.

  Somehow Xiu agreed, and I could read the words don’t be shy on Travis’s lips as he took her hand and led her into the crowd.

  One minute Xiu was biting at her lip, the next she was feeling out the beat, and soon moving slowly with Travis’s movements. She raised her hand to his shoulder and held herself there as her hips began to wind to the song, matching Travis beat for beat. He smiled at her kindly, encouraging her.

  A wild look passed over Xiu’s face, and a moment later she had turned around, her hair whipping in the air, as she pressed her back to Travis’s chest, allowing him to grasp her hips as she danced into him. My jaw dropped. The shy look was gone as her moves became confident and sensual.

  Was this really Xiu Yee?

  I stood and joined Edi and Shayne, who also looked mesmerized by the sight of the once shy girl we thought we knew so well. Even Warhol and Ashley came over to watch the couple dancing. From the way Xiu was winding her hips and dancing onto Travis like it was a private show, she’d been hiding her talent from us all.

  “Shit! Go Xiu!” Warhol cheered. He said it again and it caught on, and soon a crowd was cheering Xiu on as she put the moves on Travis.

  Travis was practically the only person not stunned by the way Xiu was dancing. The way he danced with her, egging her on and matching her moves, I just about fell for him. It was so easy for us to deem Travis wild and trouble due to his reckless behavior, but from his friendship with Tyson to his encouraging Xiu to let go, I had to admit, Travis Catalano wasn’t a bad guy after all.

  Something told me that, come the school year, I’d be losing a good deal of friendships connected to Chad, but seeing the way Travis treated Tyson, Kyle, and now Xiu, I had a feeling I was going to gain a lot more in the aftermath.