Hate To Love You

I answered Becca, “I just told you that.”

“Why didn’t you say something in the beginning?”

“Why would I?”

Her mouth opened and hung there.

Her friend translated, “Because Gage Clarke is hot!”

“Oh.” I rolled my eyes, wishing I had brought my own drink. “See. This. You. You’re why I don’t say anything, because now you’re going to be all nice to me, and I know it’s fake.”

“It’s fake?”

“You’re being fake. My brother will either sleep with you or he won’t.” I pounded my chest and fell backward into the sink. “I have no bearing on that. At all.” I almost fell the other way, but caught myself. I pointed to Becca’s beer. “Are you going to drink that? Have you backwashed into it?”

“What?”

The friend snagged it from her and handed it over. “My name is Lia. When you talk to him, tell him how nice I am.” She pointed to Becca. “She’s a bitch, but not me. I was nice. Tell him.”

“I’m not going to remember your name.” I already forgot.

“Lia.”

“What?”

“LIA!”

“I’m not going to remember.” I leaned away from the sink to look at Becca, even though I could see her fine from where I was standing. “Your friend has a thing for my brother?”

She snorted, going into the stall. Finally. “Half the campus has a thing for your brother.” She grabbed ahold of the stall door on the top and pulled it shut with a firm and decisive click. The friend leaned forward, beaming at me. “Lia. My name’s Lia.”

I didn’t care. I’d take the bitch title here. Bitch and Dick Crusher. There should be T-shirts made.

I turned to leave.

The friend said something again to me, and Becca yelled something out, but I wasn’t listening to them. I lifted a hand over my shoulder, dismissing both, and left.

I took a few steps, but I felt it almost right away.

The air in the bar had changed.

People were more on edge. I frowned. I couldn’t place it. Maybe they were more . . . there was an eagerness mixed with a slight edge of hysteria at the same time. I was intoxicated. If I could sense this when I was blasted, it must’ve been really bad.

I marched over to my booth. Gage’s friends were still there, and a new guy had squished in to where I’d been sitting.

“Hey!” A cheer rose from them. “It’s Dick Crusher.”

I teetered on my feet, holding on to the table. “What’s going on?”

Two of them started to stand, saying, “You can take my spot.”

“No, no.” I waved them back. I needed to sober up. That meant not sitting and drinking more. “I’m good. Stay comfortable. I meant around the bar.” I motioned around. “I can feel something’s weird.”

“Oh.” One girl understood. “Shay Coleman came in.”

That was right. It all made sense now.

I swung my head around. “Where’s he at?”

This was as good of a time as any to apologize. I could do it in the bar, and I could slip away. It’d be a drive-by apology. He’d never know what hit him, and tomorrow, I could go back to being normal. I wouldn’t have to be nice.

“What?”

“Coleman. Where’s he at?” I was squinting to see the rest of the bar. I couldn’t. Our corner was packed, and there was a whole other section by the door. I knew that area was standing room only. This might be more work than I realized.

“You know Coleman?”

“She doesn’t know Coleman.”

I didn’t know who was talking so I asked again, “Where at?”

“He’s probably where the football guys always sit.”

I looked at the guy who said that. “I’ve never been here in my life. I have no idea where that is.”

One girl stood and took my hand. “I’ll show you.”

“Wait.” The guy waved us back. He leaned forward, shouting so we could hear him better. “What are you doing? Are you going to talk to him or something?”

The girl started laughing. “She doesn’t know Coleman. She probably wants to meet him or something.”

I nodded. Her words weren’t really clicking with me.

I said, “I need to apologize to him. I was a bitch before.”

I had a fleeting thought that I just violated something. Wait. My rules. Why did I have those rules again? I was forgetting everything. I added, “And I have to tell him Lael says hello.”

“You know Shay Coleman?” the guy asked, sounding doubtful.

The girl was still laughing. She had no clue what was going on.

“I’m in a class with him. It’s all good. I’m not like a stalker or anything.” I shuddered at that thought, and as the girl pulled me forward and into a large crowd in the bar, I couldn’t help but think about the control a stalker had. They chose when to say something. They chose when to approach, when to look, when to retreat. They had all the control.

That was creepy as fuck.

I never wanted to be a stalker. Why was I thinking about that?

The girl was still leading the way. We’d moved into the area that was literally standing room only and had to wait for people to move before we could go farther in. We got halfway before she said over her shoulder, “Do you want to see your brother?” She nodded to the right. “He’s in the corner with some people.”

I shook my head. I was drunk. There was a high chance he was drunk. I leaned closer and yelled, “He probably forgot I’m here. I’m good. Onward to the football star.”

She laughed before inching forward. Then she saw something and veered to where my brother was.

I pulled on her hand. “No. I don’t want to see my brother.”

Too late.

She almost shoved her way into some guys, and voilà, the waves parted for me. Or, a couple people moved aside, and I got a glimpse of a table in the corner. Gage and one of his other friends were there talking to Shay. I recognized another guy from our political science class, but I searched for Linde. I couldn’t find him. Becs said he was also there. I wanted to talk to him, too.

But enough was enough. Apology time had to happen.

The girl who led me started to point, but I nodded. I edged ahead of her.

“Wha—” She tried to grab me, to pull me back.

I evaded her, pushing forward until I was at the table.

Gage had his finger up. His mouth was open. He was in mid-speech, and I recognized all the signs of a big story. He froze, seeing me, and his mouth fell open a few more inches. He swore, turning to face me completely. “I forgot you were here.”

I snorted and grabbed the finger he had in the air. I tried to twist it, but he yanked it away. I said, “That’s a no-brainer.” I sidled up between him and Shay. There was some space there. Gage was standing at the edge of the table, and Shay was leaning against the wall. Someone else could’ve been standing between them, but the space was empty. It was like a protected area, considering how squashed everyone else was. This space was special, private.

It was Shay’s space. No one was going to invade it.

Except me. I had no problem doing that.

I stood in that spot and slapped my brother’s shoulder. “You win the best brother award of all time.” I laughed. “Just kidding. Blake would have your ass in a sling if he were here.”