Games of Love: Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

“Okay, but why do you hate the city so much?” Oliver asked me plainly, finishing his hot chocolate with a dramatic gulp. He waved his hand around. “When I moved here, you seemed excited about it.”

“Because I knew that Cornell was here,” I told him, thinking longingly of the open pastures and quaint little towns far out from the buzzing city. “And you were here. If I couldn’t be home, I at least wanted to be close to you guys. I like being around family.”

“We’re glad that you’re here,” Rose murmured honestly, reaching out to squeeze my cold hand. “You’re welcome to stay with us over the holidays if you don’t go home.”

Oliver made a face. “Rose is cooking.” He grinned when she punched him in the arm again.

“So, you’re saying the food won’t be burned like when you cook it?” I laughed playfully, raising my eyebrows at my brother. Last Thanksgiving had been a disaster.

Oliver threw his hands up, and then put a hand to his wife’s belly. “I’m outnumbered here, help me out, little man.”

“Don’t kid yourself, oh husband dear,” Rose leaned her head on his shoulder, and put her hand over his, squeezing his fingers. “He’s a little mama’s boy already.”

I watched them, and I felt a familiar sort of loneliness steal over me as it always did when I thought of how much I wanted something like what the two of them had together. Soon enough, I would have to fake it, pretending to be just as in love as my sister-in-law was with my brother. The first hint of dread for my situation crept into my frenzied mind. What if my faux-boyfriend was absolutely horrible to me and to everyone else? How could I pretend to be in love with him then? What if my family didn’t like him at all? What if I didn’t like him at all? I realized very quickly that I was being ridiculous. It wouldn’t matter if anyone else liked him. I wanted to win the competition and I would do whatever it took to accomplish that for myself.

I took the nearby bus home, refusing my brother’s kind offer to drive me to my apartment building. I stepped off the chilly bus, pulling my coat tight around myself in the gloom. My apartment building was just around the corner. The awning over the double doors crumpled quietly in the wind, weather-beaten and time-worn from years of abandonment. I had always hoped I would come back one day some odd week, and the apartment building would be new and welcoming, warm inside and out, though it was doubtful that anything would ever be fixed in my time. The landlord of the building charged such a low rent that he didn’t bother with fixing things if he could get around doing it. He didn’t care enough to take care of the building and why put your own money into something that didn’t matter to you anyway? The small, subpar apartments were just money lining his pockets and the families and tenants who slept in them made no difference to him at all. I sighed and made my way into the cramped, darkened lobby where sad-looking, dingy Christmas decorations had been carelessly hung. It was chilly and the front desk was empty. Usually, the landlord sat with his feet propped on the desk, watching whatever dull movie was playing on the tiny TV in front of him. The long stairwell lights flickered above my head as I ran quickly up the stairs in the near-dark. I hurriedly found my apartment door, went in, and locked it. An awful swell of loneliness fell over me and I took a deep breath, falling onto my cold, thrift-store leather couch. It crunched under me and I sat up after a little while, turning on a scary movie and watching it without really seeing it. I fell asleep in my clothes and it felt like only a couple of minutes later when I awoke to my phone going off loudly, vibrating obnoxiously on the coffee table top.

“Hello?” I slurred sleepily, swiping my other hand over my eyes to rub away the murk of my sleep.

“Hi, there,” said a tinny, cheery voice through the other end of the phone. I winced at the loud octave in my ear. “Is this Sadie Harlow?”

“This is me—uh,” I stuttered slowly, still sleep-addled, and mildly confused at who would be calling me. “I mean, yes, it’s Sadie.”

“Well, Ms. Harlow, I’m very pleased to let you know that we have chosen our couples and you have been selected as a participant in our reality TV show.”

“Oh my god, Games of Love?” I nearly shouted over the phone, tripping over my own feet as I jumped up from the couch in excitement. “Are you serious right now? Tell me you’re serious!”