I Love You, I Hate You: Part 1

30

Danika

“You scared me, baby girl,” Dad says as I walk through the door. My head is pounding but not nearly as bad as when I woke up. I still can’t believe I slept the day away in Logan’s bed.

Everything after mine and Logan’s kiss in Jake’s kitchen is a blur of memories pushed together. The party itself and ride to Logan’s house is nothing but black. But today has mushed into flickers of Logan at my side with a bucket. At some point I took a shower. I get a glimpse of myself standing under the water’s spray while I search my thoughts, but who put me there and how I got dressed after is gone.

Dad’s big arms wrap around me, holding me tight like they did the day mom died. “For a second, I thought I was going to lose you too.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice cracking. I want to cry again, but there aren’t any tears left. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. First mom. Then maybe me. And he left me at Logan’s. Dad is the strongest man I know.

Dad smoothes my hair and places a kiss on my forehead like he’s done countless times when everything fell apart. “Shhh. You’re alright and that’s all that matters.”

I nod and sniffle, pulling away from his embrace. Guilt rears its ugly face, reminding me that I spent too many days crying last year. It doesn’t matter that my mom died or that school had become my personal hell, he was suffering too. Dad never got the chance to grieve because he was too busy taking care of me. I’m nearly eighteen. He shouldn’t have to keep drying my tears. “I should get changed and bring Logan back his clothes.”

Dad nods, noticing for the first time that I’m wearing a much too big for me Machine Gun Kelly band Tee and a pair of basketball shorts. Upstairs, I take another shower. There’s something comforting about using my own soaps and shampoos. Although, when I rinsed the vomit off at Logan’s earlier, Piper’s shampoo smelled oddly similar. I wrap myself in a towel and gaze into the mirror. Everything about me looks the same. Same long dark hair. Same brown eyes. Same olive skin, but I feel different.

When my ex-boyfriend Austin circulated the naked photos, he fabricated of me around school, I felt broken. Defeated. Powerless because no one took my side. No one cared to listen when I said the pictures were fake or that he was lying. All of that paired with my mom’s death, I spiraled into a dark place. Not as dark as Piper, but close.

Thinking back to everything that happened last night, my so-called friends stripped me of my power again. Gunner used me to win a bet. Then he and Melody drugged me, physically making me powerless for what I can only assume was retaliation. The same sickening veil of darkness falls over me again and I feel myself spiraling.

By the time Monday comes, everyone will have their own version of what happened yesterday. I’ll probably be bullied again and have a repeat of last year. I close my eyes and press my head against the glass. Why does this keep happening to me?

My eyes snap open when someone knocks on my bedroom door. “Just a minute!”

I hurry to my closet and slip a loose pink shirt over my head then reach for a pair of pajama shorts. Even though I slept most of the day, I’m still tired. I feel the downward cycle repeating. I was tired a lot last year.

Someone knocks

again as I finish pulling my shorts over my hips. I open the door and Logan stands there, hands in the pockets of his board shorts which surprisingly are plaid tan color and not black. Even more surprising is his solid white shirt.

“Hey,” I say blatantly staring. My heart flips, pushing some of the darkness away. “What are you doing here?”

“I know I need to give you space. You’ve been through some fucked up shit the last twenty-four hours, but I took your dress to the dry cleaner. I didn’t know what to do with it and my dad’s friend owns the place. So, he met me there when I told him it was an emergency.” Logan extends a yellow claim-ticket for me to grab. “It’ll be ready for you to pick up after school tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I take the slip of paper and turn into my room. I set it on my desk beside the box labeled books that’s waiting to be unpacked. “Thanks.”

Logan stands in the doorway looking around. Funny how just a few days ago I was lying in his bed for the first time watching a movie and now he’s here. I feel like we’ve come full circle, only the happy fun part of our budding friendship was skipped. Instead, we’ve been plunged into a rough patch. The kind of roughness new whatevers don’t survive, no matter how tantalizing the spark is between them.

Logan rubs the back of his neck. “So about tomorrow…”

“What about tomorrow?”

“I went out on a limb and texted Sarah.” He runs a hand through his perfectly disheveled hair. “I told her I was taking you to school. After everything that went down, I don’t trust anyone right now and I want to keep you safe.”

“I can count on one hand the amount of people I trust right now,” I whisper. Logan, Cooper, Piper, and Dad. That’s it. Even though Sarah helped Logan last night, she still placed a bet against me. Or on me. I really don’t know, it’s confusing. What I do know is that friends don’t make bets about other friends behind their backs.

“Thanks,” I tell him, my voice cracking like my exterior. “But dad bought me a car last night. I can drive myself.”

Logan extends his arms, inviting me in for a hug. I step into the embrace, letting his warmth blanket me. I close my eyes and for a moment everything feels like it’ll be okay. The weight of what happened last year isn’t smothering me, and my anxiety about tomorrow fades away. Here in my room, it’s just me and him.

Logan presses his lips to my temple, bringing back the butterflies I felt last night. “Then we can take your car, but I’m not letting you show up to school alone.”

31

Danika

My alarm isn’t set to go off for another thirty minutes, but I lay awake in my bed, memories of last year swallowing me whole. I never told Dad how bad the bullying got. As a guy, he wouldn’t understand and as an adult he really wouldn’t understand.