Hate To Love You

His eyes were straight ahead. They weren’t focused on anyone or anything, but then he caught me in the corner of his eye.

He paused, slowing down, and his head turned.

His eyes locked on mine, and I saw his emotions play out as if they were on screen.

Surprise.

Confusion.

Then anger.

The last one burned bright in his gaze, and he faltered to a stop.

We were seven feet apart. If I had hidden in the doorway, he would’ve gone straight past me. This confrontation could’ve been avoided, but I still couldn’t do a thing. I tried to get myself to talk.

My throat wasn’t working.

He stared at me, his jaw clenching. His eyes narrowed. I watched as his shoulders straightened and then rolled back. He looked ready to fight me.

But he still didn’t talk for a second.

I had just walked past three buildings that had people in front of them, hanging out for the evening, but I was in the heart of the campus, and there was no one.

I half-expected a tumbleweed to roll between us.

“Seriously?” He grunted, stuffing his hands in his khaki pockets. His shoulders lowered a fraction. “You’re just going to stand there like a deaf mute?”

I flushed.

For whatever reason, that worked.

I could suddenly talk again.

“You don’t have to insult the deaf mute.”

He snorted. More of the fight left him, but the anger was still there. I felt it under the surface, simmering. My insides were still in knots, waiting for it to be unleashed.

“I don’t know what that means.” His eyes flicked to the side before jerking back. “What’s your problem?” He looked at me closer, trailing down then back up. “What? Are you scared of me?”

Okay, Kennedy.

I started to give myself another pep talk. This one was going to be for the win. I needed it.

He isn’t going to strike you down. He isn’t his sister. He isn’t Carruthers or his dickless friend. He isn’t the assholes who chased after you, or jeered you in the classroom. He isn’t here to scare you, to harm you, to break you.

Because. You. Won’t. Let. Him.

You got that, Kennedy?

You got that?

I was shaking my hands in triumph. I was cheering myself on. I was making all sorts of rallying cries inside my own head.

Because the truth was that I was too damned scared to say anything more.

He cocked his head to the side. “What’s wrong with you? You had more fight the last I saw you.”

A gargled laugh ripped from me.

“Really?” I laughed again. “I had more fight the last time you saw me?”

He didn’t respond, and his shoulders slumped another inch down.

I took a step toward him. It felt like I was walking through wet cement, but I moved it ahead. “You want to know what happened to me? You motherfucker.”

One corner of his mouth turned down. “You don’t have to insult me.”

“You called me a deaf mute.”

“That isn’t an insult if it’s true.”

Fuck’s sake. He was an asshole. My nostrils flared. “You didn’t throw it at me like a term of endearment. You shouldn’t even think that phrase. It shouldn’t be a part of your vocabulary, because the truth is that you have no idea what it would be like to be someone who can’t hear, who can’t talk, who can’t walk, who can’t do the simplest things that you take for granted.”

I breathed in relief.

I could talk again.

That fight he wanted, it was coming. I felt it sparking, fueling me.

I raised my head higher. “You’re so pissed off. I can see it, and you want to know what happened to me? Your sister happened. Assholes like Carruthers happened to me. Assholes like his friends who thought they could bag on me, push me down because I dared to stand up against one of their own. Girls like my roommate who thought she was better than me, because she felt strong with her posse and thought she could tear me down because I was a loner. You’re the last person I’m seeing right now, and you’re the last one I’m going to let hurt me.”

Right.

I pumped up my fist—and it almost hit me.

I moved it over an inch, and raised it higher. I puffed up my chest.

I sneered at him. How was that, dickbag? Huh?

He only raised an eyebrow. “You drunk right now?”

He was unmoved, and I felt a needle taken to my pep talk balloon. My chest sank back in so it was normal.

I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here? This isn’t your campus.”

He pulled out the keys and dangled them in the air. “My sister’s things were moved out today. I had to drop her keys off. We’re heading out of town tomorrow.”

Oh.

I felt like an ass. “I thought you were here to hurt me.”

His eyebrows lifted again. I saw the surprise there. “No way. I don’t want anything to do with you or Shay again. I’m done with everyone at Dulane.”

“What do you mean? What about Sabrina?”

He glanced down for a moment. “She broke up with me. Apparently, she was with me for the wrong reasons.” He rolled his eyes again and hissed out, “She’s still in love with Coleman, so head’s up, Clarke. She might be after your man.”

That rolled off my back. It didn’t even make a dent, and I threw back, “Sure she doesn’t want to be associated with your stalking-obsessed sister?”

His eyes formed to slits. He grew unnaturally still. “Watch it, Clarke. That’s my blood you’re talking about.”

“Who is obsessed with you. Who is obsessed with my boyfriend. Who was starting to become obsessed with me. Your blood is messed up.”

“Yeah, well.” The hand with the keys went back in his khaki pocket and his other rubbed the back of his neck. “Every family is fucked in some way. We got ours, and despite what you think, Phoebe’s just sick. That’s all. She isn’t the bad guy here.”

“Really?” My tone was dry. “So, who is?”

“No one. There are no bad guys. Everyone’s bad. Everyone’s good. Everyone changes and the whole situation can be flipped tomorrow. Sabrina dumped me because you laid into her. I could be pissed at you and blame you, but I don’t.”

Another, “Really?”

“Yeah.” For the first time, pain flashed in his eyes. “I mean, the dipshit in me wants to and maybe a part of me does, but I shouldn’t. You didn’t make Sabrina dump me. She did that on her own. She did that because she didn’t want to be a part of the whole thing with my sis and me. And for the record, I don’t hate your boyfriend.”

“What is it, then?”

Neither of us noticed, but Shay was there. He’d been coming from the library and had stopped at the end of the sidewalk where it would’ve merged with the one Cameron was standing on. All three of us on different sections of pavement, but all merged at one point. All three of us remained in our end, forming a triangle.

“Oh.” Cameron visibly seemed shaken. He stepped back, his shoulders falling as he raked both his hands through his hair. “Coleman. I didn’t see you there.”

Shay was cold. His face was impassive, but his eyes flicked to mine briefly. He was furious. I saw it there, far more controlled and pushed down than the anger Cameron let simmer to his surface.

I felt a ripple of violence in the air, like any moment Shay was ready to go.