Hate To Love You

I scowled. “Whatever. Let’s go in. We have that quiz.”

I brushed past him, going inside, but my mind was racing. Did I really have to be there? I already studied for the week. I could leave. Though, when I glanced to Kristina and realized she seemed to be enjoying herself, I couldn’t. I knew she was getting a kick out of studying and hanging out with these guys.

I looked at Linde and saw his forehead scrunched as he was trying to memorize something in the textbook. He still had sweat beaded on his temples and definitely looked tense, so I kept my mouth shut.

Shay slipped into his old seat, and his eyes met mine.

He told me Linde asked for me to be there. Linde was my friend. I felt a tug in my chest—Linde was whom I cared about.

I picked my pen back up and began underlining.

Linde was whom I would stay for.





Kristina was all giggles on the ride home.

After studying for two hours, most of the guys had gone to bed or left for wherever they lived. The only ones up were the four of us and one other football player from class. Shay and that guy moved farther down the table and were quizzing each other. I moved so I was in the middle of the table, and Linde and Kristina were at the end where we’d originally been sitting.

Then Linde declared he needed a drink.

I declined. So did Shay and the other guy, but Kristina was persuaded to have one with him. It was a strong one. A really strong one.

“One drink.” She dissolved in more soft laughter, holding her hands together over her mouth. “One drink, and I’m like this.”

When we went to Shay’s Jeep, I scooted into the back. I was tired, and I didn’t want to feel the stress of sitting next to him. Kristina twisted around, pressing her nose to the back of her seat. She gazed at me, her eyes wide. “What am I going to say to the others? To Casey? She’s going to know.”

I glanced to the clock on the dashboard. It was after three in the morning. A normal roommate would be asleep by now, but this was Casey. I shrugged. “If they didn’t end up partying tonight,” because you never knew, “you can sleep in my room.”

“Missy won’t care?”

“Missy starts snoring at ten on the dot every Sunday through Thursday night. You’ll be fine.” We had a loveseat that could get pulled out into a third bed for the room. If Missy said something in the morning, I’d be surprised. After her comment this afternoon, I figured she’d avoid me for at least a week. Plus, to her, Kristina was one of those popular girls who should be treated like a unicorn—mystical, beautiful, and only found in fairy tales.

“Okay.” She hiccupped, turned around, and slumped down in her seat.

I glanced to the rearview mirror, saw Shay watching me, and felt another bolt of energy in my chest. This was how it was going to be. I had to get used to it. He just affected me. He didn’t really do anything to cause it, but it was there. It wasn’t going away. There was no judgment, sympathy, or amusement in those blue eyes as he watched me. He was literally just looking at me, and I let out a sigh.

This semester could be the longest four months of my life.

When he pulled into our dorm’s parking lot, I leaned forward. “You can pull up to the back door there.”

Kristina was swaying on her feet as we got out.

I was crawling from the back, when he quietly asked, “Do you need help with her?”

I looked back at him. “I’m sure we’re fine.”

“Sabrina’s at the front desk. Let her know if you need help.”

Sabrina.

I paused, my fingers sinking down into the seat. Of course, she’d have an equally beautiful name.

I dipped my head down, murmuring, “Thank you. And thank you for the ride.”

I didn’t say anything about Linde, because he was right. If Linde became a close enough friend where I could voice my opinion, and if he asked, I would say it then. It would’ve been me passing judgment on him, otherwise. I was prickly enough with people judging me. Hello, pot meet kettle.

I climbed out the rest of the way, shut his door, and held a hand up in a farewell wave as he wheeled the Jeep around deftly and pulled away. Holding my ID to the back door scanner, it opened for us, and I made Kristina wait in the stairwell so I could scope out her room situation.

The hallway’s low lights were on. Light shone from underneath a few of the doors, but they were quiet. I got to Kristina’s and used the key she gave me to open the door an inch. No light was on inside, and I waited—I didn’t hear anything. No deep breathing. No light snoring. I opened the door wider, then stepped inside and waited again.

No reaction.

No one moved in their bed.

I hit the switch, and the room flooded in light. Casey’s bed was empty. That answered Kristina’s dilemma, and I relayed the information. She sagged against the wall, her hand to her chest. “Thank goodness.” Her smile was a little messy, and her pupils dilated. “Thank you. It was a fun night. Those guys are nice.”

I nodded, and said another good night.

Moments later, I was in bed, and Missy’s snoring shook the post. I was used to the noise and vibrations and closed my eyes. The sound almost lulled me to sleep now.

The alarms started too early, way too early. Missy’s started at six, and went off every ten minutes until seven o’clock, which was when she finally shut the damn thing off. The bed shook again as she climbed from the top bunk, and I drifted back to sleep.

She woke me again thirty minutes later when she returned from the shower. I listened without opening my eyes as she moved around getting ready for the day and groaned when my own alarm woke me at eight.

It felt like an elephant was sitting on my shoulders when I got up, but I had to hurry it up.

Bathroom took five minutes.

Brushing teeth was two.

Face was cleaned. Another minute.

Dressed.

Brushed the hair.

No. That looked bad.

Hair was pulled into a ponytail.

I cringed. Horrible.

Hair ended up in a messy bun. Nod of approval.

Bag was already packed from the night before—and after a light coating of lip-gloss and swipe of eyeliner, I was out the door.

So was everyone else. I got behind a group of five girls leaving the dorm. There was no time for breakfast, but I veered by the library. Everyone grabbed their coffee from the coffee shop on campus, or a few in the food court. Everyone forgot about the library, because who was really there so early in the morning?

Coffee ordered, paid for, then picked up, and I was back outside. All the sidewalks were full now. It was nine-fifteen when I spotted my poli-sci building. I reached for the door handle, opened it, and it was caught by a hand above mine.

I looked—I shouldn’t have.

Shay Coleman smirked down at me, his body close enough that I felt a draft of warmth from his heat. He curved his lips up, pleased to have caught me off guard. “Morning.”