I Love You, I Hate You: Part 1

“Let me rephrase,” Rachel folds her hands on the table. “You won’t want to sit here tomorrow. Melody is a snake, constantly ready to attack. You didn’t just poke her, you tried to cut off her head. The retaliation won’t be pretty.”

“I appreciate the warning, but I can take care of myself.”

She shakes her head. “It’s your funeral.”

I twist the cap off my coke and sit at Melody’s table again. I know I should pick somewhere else to sit. Anywhere else, but people have dodged me all week. It’s like I have a grenade strapped to my back and everyone is trying to avoid the explosion. It’s fine. I’ve made my bed and now I have to lay in it. I will say two good things have come out of the fight on Tuesday:

Melody is no longer a raging cunt. While it is cle

ar she doesn’t like me, for the moment she’s not actively making my life a living hell. Dodged a bullet there.

Logan’s no longer being a dick. Probably because he’s not around. The only time I’ve seen him in the hallway this week was when his face was attached to someone else's. And lunch, he’s been at Piper’s table.

Can’t say I’m not disappointed. I wanted us to be friends again. Friends would satisfy the insatiable need I have to be around him. Friends would satiate my urge to touch him. Friends would fix everything!

We are not friends. Not enemies, but not friends.

Gunner, the guy who‘s shamelessly flirted with me all week, and the only person happy I’m still at the table, winks and keeps talking to his friend, Jake Brito. My stomach growls, reminding me that the bowl of oatmeal I ate this morning wasn’t enough to sustain me all day, but the cafeteria doesn’t offer much in the way of vegan food and I’m not about to brown bag it.

“Oh look, you’re back again,” Melody’s manicured nails curl into a fist under her cheek as she leans on the table. I’m waiting for the hat to drop, but Melody isn’t stupid. She’s probably already plotting her revenge, buying her sweet time and trying to make me sweat in the process.

It’s not working.

“So, new girl,” Tad slides off the top of the table and into the open space next to me. I don’t like Tad. Outside of lunch I avoid him at all costs because he’s got an icky vibe I can’t shake.

“It’s Danika,” Gunner interrupts, defensively.

I smile up at him. Gunner is classically handsome with a jawline that gives Gene Kelly a run for his money. He’s walked me to class and made it more than obvious that he likes me, but Gunner doesn’t make my heart race the way it does when Logan’s near. In fact, the only reason I’m even giving him a chance is to wash my infatuation with Logan away.

I steal a glance across the room, to Piper’s table. From what I’ve gathered Logan’s brother, Cooper, still eats lunch with Piper every day. But seeing as Cooper was suspended for fighting, Logan has taken over the job. He smiles, stealing a cheese smothered french fry from her tray. Piper rolls her eyes, feigning indifference and tucks her earbuds in. I bet this is what it’s like for them at home. Fun. Playful. The complete opposite of how Logan is at school.

“So, what do you think?” Gunner asks, pulling my attention back to the table.

I blink twice, searching my brain for some trace of the conversation I tuned out but I’ve got nothing. Once again, I got lost in my thoughts staring at Logan. I need to stop doing that. Thank God he’s been skipping the classes we have together, I’d be royally screwed if he were there. “Huh?”

“The party tomorrow night. Want to go with me?” Gunner asks again.

Truthfully, I hate parties. Drinking isn’t my thing, although for the sake of appearances I’ll usually nurse a beer or two. Also, most parties bring drama and I’d rather not deal with any of it. But Gunner’s hopeful eyes stare down at me and I don’t want to disappoint him, especially if he’s going to help me get over my infatuation with Logan. “I’d love to.”

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up at nine.” Gunner leans down and presses his lips against mine, threading his fingers through my hair. I close my eyes, letting his tongue slip into my mouth for a short, sweet kiss.

Our first kiss.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and he pulls back. I press my lips into a tight smile, letting him know I enjoyed the embrace when really, I’m confused.

He fingers one of my barrel curls and asks, “Want me to walk you to class?”

I shake my head and tell a tiny white lie. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom, but I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay. Bye, doll face.” Gunner turns, leaving me in the now empty cafeteria to sort through my thoughts.

Our kiss was nice, but it wasn’t earth shattering. It felt safe, like kissing someone you’ve been with for years. There were no sparks or butterflies. It was just a kiss. I grab my soda and the garbage my so-called friends left on the table. I stand, turning towards the trashcan when I see him.

Logan.

6

Danika