I Love You, I Hate You: Part 1

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Danika cries softly into my ear. Her body trembles in my arms. I kiss her head then look around the hallway. I’m supposed to follow the path of bloody footprints to the next room, but that’s not happening.

“We’re not.” Thank fuck the hallways are the safe zones. I don’t think Danika could handle another zombie attack. I don’t listen to Tricia’s advice about which stairwell to take. While her warning about tonight was sweet, people often forget about the North stairs—Cooper’s favorite meetup spot with Piper. On the off chance tonight is a set up by Gunner and his crew, I refuse to do what’s expected of me and fall into a trap.

Am I overreacting? Probably. But considering I just fucked up Gunner’s senior year, I’m not taking any chances.

I carry her through the cafeteria and set her on a bench outside, by one of the food trucks. Danika tucks her hands under her thighs, gaze bouncing from one person to the next. This was a disaster. I should have pushed for us to go out to eat somewhere or something. “Here. Eat. It’ll calm your nerves.”

“Cooking helps. Not eating.” She takes a fry and places it between her lips. “You know these probably aren’t Vegan. Right?”

I shake my head and laugh. She’s totally serious, but non accusatory. “It’s the closest we’ve got. Are you feeling any better?”

She takes a sip of the coke and gives a small nod. “Yeah. What happened? Is it always like that?”

“No. Something was off tonight.” We sit in silence and finish the basket of fries. I’m not ready to go home, I want to try and redeem tonight. A girl only turns eighteen once. “What do you want to do?”

Danika shifts on the bench seat to face me. “I think I should thank my hero,” she teases.

I turn and pull her closer by the hips. She only slides a few inches, but those inches feel like miles. I reach up and tuck long strands behind her ear. I still need to give her the gift I bought—sapphire stud earrings that match the necklace she never takes off. “And how are you going to do that?”

Danika fists my shirt and pulls my lips to hers. I cup the back of her neck with one hand and scoot her onto my lap. I don’t care about what the people around us think. I kiss her the way she deserves to be kissed. Like the world begins and ends with her because mine does.

I knew something in my life wasn’t right. There was always this feeling of emptiness I could never fill. I never could place exactly what was lacking, I just knew something was. That deep impenetrable void, it doesn’t exist when Danika’s near. If she ever leaves me, I’ll be ruined and that has somehow turned into my biggest fear.

Danika reaches behind her and grasps onto the bench. She lowers down until her back is lying flat and I’m on top of her. It’s awkward as fuck, trying not to crush her but I must be doing a good job because she moans against my lips.

“Jeez, no one wants to see that!” Melody complains from somewhere that isn’t Danika’s lips.

I break our kiss to look up at Melody. Danika giggles into my shoulder and I don’t bother fighting my smi

le. I’m drunk on her lips and high on life. There’s nothing that Melody could say or do to ruin this moment. “Well then, don’t look,” I tell her, right before finding Danika’s mouth again.

41

Logan

Danika and I have unofficially been together for four weeks now, and things couldn’t be better. All those stupid television moments where the couples stare at each other, smiling like the sun was made to shine on them…I always thought it was bullshit. I was wrong. So. So. Wrong. The sun, it was made to shine on Danika because the world gets a little brighter whenever she’s around.

I laugh at myself. That was so cheesy you could slice it up and put it on a cracker, but that’s what Danika does. Turns me into a mushy, warm, cheese ball.

I like it.

I walk into my house, Danika’s hand in mine, like we’ve done every day after school for weeks and stopped dead in my tracks. Chill bumps break out across my skin at the sound of the voice somewhere within my walls. I swallow the knot in my throat and pray that my mind is fucking with me again.

“You okay?” Danika asks, eyeing me curiously. She rubs her hand on my arm then stares at her fingers, probably feeling the sweat seeping through my shirt.

I shake our hands free and follow the sound of that voice. My vision tunnels, only seeing the path leading me to hell. My feet are heavy with each step and anchor themselves to the ground when I find the man I’m searching for sitting at my table. He doesn’t look much different than he did ten years ago, outside of the grays peppered through his sandy blonde hair. Then again, he never does when I see him.

I swallow hard and tell myself I’m imagining him again. Alan Shaffer isn’t here. He can’t be here.

I killed him.

But this man has the same angled jaw. Same pointed nose. Same dark brown eyes that never matched his complexion. It can’t be him.

Mom waltzes over and pulls me into a hug. This woman hasn’t hugged me since I was six years old, and that was an awkward side hug for a photo. I stiffen, not sure how to handle the show of affection. “Look who stopped by to say hi, sweetheart.”

The man stands and extends his hand. “Good to see you, son.”

My stomach quivers and for once I’m thankful I didn’t eat lunch today. Even though I was starving moments ago my appetite is gone. Same fucking cologne.