The Hating Game

by Sally Thorne

I have a theory. Hating someone feels disturbingly similar to being in love with them.

Gamins resented the notion of books as units. Books were, and always would be, something a little magic and something to respect.

The second thing, the most essential thing anyone needs to know about me, is this: I hate Joshua Templeman.

Now we are playing the Staring Game.

His first name is Richard. Fat Little Dick.

Knowledge is power, and I don’t have much.

“When I’m your boss, I’m going to work you so fucking hard,” Joshua’s voice is dirty and rough.

Joshua Templeman is going to spray his coffee out his nose when I walk in. I don’t know why I want him to – but I do.

“You’ve broken me down so completely, I can’t even handle it when a guy tells me I’m beautiful.”

All I want to do is kiss you until I fall asleep. I want to slide in between your sheets, and find out what goes on inside your head, and underneath your clothes. I want to make a fool of myself over you.

“I’m going to destroy you. The Hating Game. You versus me. It’s the only way this can possibly end.”

I stare at the ceiling and admit the astonishing truth to myself. I don’t hate Joshua Templeman.

This is the best game I’ve ever played in my entire life.

I spot a little origami bird made of notepaper I once flicked at him during a meeting. It is balanced on the edge of the bookshelf.

When he looks over, I jerk back. He puts his hand between us on the couch, palm up, and then looks back at the TV.

“I’m probably not good at a lot of things, but I will try to be,” he tells me. It’s the strangest thing to say and I feel another crack forming in the wall between us.

I’m about to lose something that I never had to begin with.

“I want to see you be as strong with other people as you are with me.”

“You wouldn’t have been sitting there alone. I would have been there. It would have been me.”

“You’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful.”

I’m Team Josh, remember?”

“If you knew the kind of little miracles happening every moment you breathe in, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. A valve could close and not open; an artery could split, you could die. At any moment. It’s nothing but miracles inside your tiny city.”

I’m falling, completely falling, and I look up as he falls too.

Brute, raw masculinity contrasted with gentleness is the most attractive thing on earth. Josh is the most attractive thing on earth.

When we kiss, I hear some applause. “You’re not mad I rescued you? Boys don’t need rescuing.” “This one did. And I’ll even let you choose which you wanna be. Thelma, or Louise,”

“We’re home,” he says.

I love Joshua Templeman.

You love him. You love him. You always have. More than you’ve ever hated him. Every day, staring at this man, knowing every color and expression and nuance. Every game you’ve ever played has been to engage with him. Talk to him. Feel his eyes on you. To try to make him notice you.

The color of love is surely this robin’s-egg blue.

I loved you the moment I saw you.”

“You hate me.” “I never have. Not for a second. I have always loved you.”

His walls are the blue of my eyes. I’ve been a bit slow.

“Since the moment I saw you. Since the moment you smiled at me, I felt like I was falling backward off a cliff. The feeling has never stopped. I’ve been trying to drag you down with me. In the worst, most ill-conceived and socially retarded way possible.”

“Time for a new game. The Starting Over Game.”

So, pray tell, what is the aim of the Starting Over Game?” “The same as all the others. For you to love me.”

“Yes. And if you get the job, I will be happy for you.” “I already resigned. My last day was Friday. Jeanette came in and did the paperwork. I’m on vacation now.”

“I don’t want anything that means I can’t have you. There’s nothing worth it. ”

That’s why I never needed help to beat you. I didn’t want to beat you.”

“I had one weekend left to make you love me.”

“I love you, Lucy Hutton. So much, you have no idea. Please be my best friend.”

“I’m going to have to change my computer password.” “Oh yeah? To what?” “I-love-Josh.” “4 eva,” he replies.

the Hating Game is over. It’s primal. It’s a miracle. And it’s forever.

Let the real games begin.