Dare You to Hate Me

His smile comes easy. “No problem. When Raine suggested inviting you along I was more than happy. Could have done without DJ hitting on you every two seconds though.”

From the corner of my eye, I see my old childhood friend tense in his seat. He doesn’t say anything though as silence takes over the table. Instead of drowning in it, I shift again and smile at Raine. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s sadness in her eyes. “I know the girls aren’t very welcoming, and that’s because of Sydney, but if you ever want to hang out I’m usually free. You don’t need to stay in the basement.”

“Speaking of,” Aiden cuts in, voice gruff as he turns to me. “What’s this shit I hear about it not being finished? You could get sick down there from what Caleb told me.”

Once again, I shoot my narrowed eyes on the man in question across the table. He chooses not to look at me. “Caleb was just exaggerating. It’s not that bad.”

“I call bull,” Aiden r

etorts. “When you get sick I’m saying, ‘I told you so’.”

My nostrils twitch. “It’s a place to sleep. I’ve stayed at worse.”

The tick in his slightly scruffy jaw tells me it wasn’t the right thing to say. “You’re not helping your case right now, Chaos.”

“Chaos?” DJ repeats, eyes bouncing between his teammate and me in interest. His eyes land on me as his head cocks. “I thought you said you two didn’t have a deal?”

“Oh, we have a deal,” Aiden informs him.

I cross my arms. “Oh, do we?”

He forgets his food and leans on the edge of the table with his arms, bending toward me so we’re unapologetically close. “What did we tell each other in the fort we made our own in the woods all those years ago?”

His stare penetrates me, and I refuse to blink first. I level his gaze, lean forward to match his stance and say, “What we told each other doesn’t matter because we were kids. Kids always fail at the things they promise.”

“You never fail until you stop trying,” he counters immediately.

I think back to the summer we met. It was a month or more after I’d walked over to him and his friends to introduce myself. We always found ourselves back at the fort, climbing over the leftover stone foundation and camping out during the day. After an hour of laying on the ground surrounded by the old fortress’s fallen walls, he’d said, “We should make a deal to always go to each other when things get tough. To always have each other. Like a pact.”

I hadn’t truly understood how serious the ten-year-old boy beside me had been at the time. I wasn’t even sure what a pact was then. But I’d agreed nonetheless because he’d proven to be the person I could come to for an escape whenever I needed. I’d always find him outside riding his bike or playing with Cap, and he’d make time for me no matter what.

At nine, I’d made a clueless pact with the boy who’d become my fast friend to always come to him when things got rough. And I did. Shortly after we’d agreed, I’d begun crawling into his room. The first time he’d asked what was wrong, and I admitted my parents were arguing. I wouldn’t tell him anymore than that. But when it became a reoccurring reason to climb through his window, he’d pass me an extra blanket and pillow, and wouldn’t fall asleep until he knew I was situated in the makeshift bedroom I’d made in his closet, hidden away in case either of his parents checked on him in the middle of the night.

As we got older, the closet got too cramped, and I’d sleep beside him in his bed instead. It wasn’t until I was thirteen when Aiden had started sleeping on the floor because he thought it was too weird to have me beside him.

Looking back now, maybe the small crush I’d had on him by then was obvious. Maybe that was his way of drawing a line. But he never, ever forgot about the pact regardless of how I’d started to feel for the selfless person he was.

Aiden breaks the train of thought I become lost in to say, “Deals are meant to be broken sometimes, but loyalty never is.”

His low tone has me clenching my hands into fists and squeezing. “Who says I’m loyal to you, Aiden Griffith?”

The slowest, most calculated smile forms on his face, making an eerie feeling creep into my chest and wrap around the beating organ that drums in my ribcage. “Baby, I don’t think you’ve ever stopped.”

My throat closes up at his purred baby.

We face off like that until someone clears their throat, and even then, neither of us wants to break the staring contest. It’s Aiden who rips his eyes away first, yet I feel no sense of victory or accomplishment from the small win.

Because Aiden may be right.

I’m not sure if that pisses me off or scares me more, but something tells me I’ll find out soon enough.

It’s drizzling again as I speed walk through campus to get to my last class of the day. I had to miss the first two because I barely had any energy to get out of bed. Usually, I can push past the exhaustion and make do, but I couldn’t even shove the blanket off me when my alarm squawked bright and early.

I know I’ll regret not attending morning courses since there’s nobody in them I can ask for notes. I’ll have to email my professors about what I missed, which I already know won’t go over well. We all got the same “you are adults now” lecture on day one. If you miss a class, you’re responsible for making up the content.

I’m glancing down at my phone when all of a sudden a hand hooks around my arm and yanks me under an awning between two academic buildings. Instantly, my opposite arm reacts in defense. I swing it as fast and as hard as I can toward the person responsible until a strong hand stops me mere inches from his face.