I Love You, I Hate You: Part 2

Until I hear her name.

“You guys remember Danika.” Sarah sets her tray beside Tad and looks at my tablemates. “Right?”

There's a collective murmur of uninterested hellos, meaning no one remembers who Danika is. Good. She’ll have to prove she belongs and judging by the fact she still wears Converse sneakers; Melody is going to eat her alive.

Melody Fox, self-crowned queen of St. Anastasia's High School has earned every bit of her title: bitch. I can’t stand the bitch, but for some reason she seems to think we are a thing. Exclusivity isn’t in her vocabulary, so I gave up fighting her on it last year. I still get to fuck who ever I please and she…I don’t know what she gets out of the arrangement. I don’t care either.

“You’re like, really pretty,” Melody taunts, setting a trap Danika is sure to fall into.

I almost feel bad, but Melody is making my job easier. Danika was always a quiet girl and cowered when met with confrontation. I highly doubt that’s changed. I give it a day, two tops, of being on Melody’s radar and then she’ll find another lunch table to sit at. Hell, maybe she’ll find a new school while she’s at it.

“Who does your hair?”

“Um.” Danika runs unmanicured fingers through her long strands. “I don’t dye it.”

“So that’s natural?” Melody snickers.

Her best friend Rachel Moore cackles beside her. They glance at each other, a silent conversation in the works. I’ve never understood how girls do that, communicate with each other with nothing more than a look. Guys don’t put in that much effort. If we have something to say, we say it.

“She’s probably too fucking poor to dye it,” I add on an exhale. The words feel heavy on my lips, but I can’t stop thinking about what Danika might remember. I need her on edge, and possibly even a little afraid of me. Maybe then I can intimidate her into staying quiet. “Have you seen where she lives?”

“No! Where?” Melody gasps.

Another drag. Another exhale to numb my mind and the shiver of guilt rippling through me. “The fucking shack next to me.”

“You mean Mr. Andrew’s old guest house?” Melody titters.

The weight of Danika’s stare burns my skin. I turn my head and glare at her because she needs to realize that I’m not the same timid kid she left behind.

Sorry Dani.

“Whatever. Poor or not.” Gunner Wells cuts off Melody’s infectious hyena laugh. He looks at Danika, gaze settling on her massive rack then finding her face again. “You’re fucking hot.”

Danika isn’t hot, she’s beautiful. Always has been. Only now, she’s grown into her body. She developed early. I know that’s strange to say but come on. I’m a guy. I notice these things. Especially on a pretty girl who leaves her table to sit with the weird friendless kid who had a stutter in the sixth grade.

That kid was me.

Awkward as fuck, thick rimmed glasses, and quieter than a church mouse because damn near everyone picked on me when I talked.

I was in therapy for years to correct my speech. Although, looking back, I’m not sure if those sessions helped my situation or made it worse.

Tad crushes his soda and tosses it at the trash can. It circles the rim then falls onto

the cafeteria floor. He grunts, probably remembering how shitty he was on the basketball team as a freshman. “Yeah, at least she’s not like Piper.”

“Don’t fucking talk about Piper,” I quip. Tad smirks, realizing he’s gotten under my skin and I’m reminded once again why I can’t stand him.

Piper Lovelace, my on-again-off-again foster sister, doesn’t deserve to be treated the way she is. Part of her reputation is my fault, I started the rumor that she was a slut as a joke last year, when I considered her to be nothing more than a nuisance. Before I knew what she was going through. Not that that’s any excuse.

I never expected the rumor to stick because most of the things people say about Piper are forgotten in a day or two. It didn’t help that soon after she started hanging around with a bunch of different guys adding fuel to the rumor fire. Even so, everything they say about her is wrong. Piper is a good person, she’s just been dealt a shitty hand in life.

“Let me guess, Piper’s fucking both you and Cooper now that she’s moved back home again?” Tad digs a joint out of his cigarette pack and lights it, not giving two fucks about the cafeteria monitors. They won’t do shit anyway, a perk of going to the most expensive school in the county. Certain kids could probably murder someone in cold blood on campus and damn near get away with it.

Tad sucks in a breath, holding the smoke in his lungs then passes the rolled paper to Gunner and says, “Tell me, is that bitch as good in bed as the rumors say she is?”

I toss what’s left of my cigarette to the floor and jump off the table, ready to kick Tad’s ass, but Cooper—my twin brother— beats me to it. He comes up from the left, catching Tad in his blindside and throws a jab at his face. Tad falls off the table and clutches his cheek like the little bitch that he is. Serves him right. Piper is family and you don’t fuck with family.

I sit on top of the table again and light another cigarette to calm my nerves. I’m anxious, full of unused adrenaline and need something to take my mind off stomping Tad’s face into the pavement.