I Hated You First

by Rachel John

annoy him, too? Occasionally, when Parker wasn’t around, I’d catch Clay looking at me, really looking—the way a jewel thief might stare at a priceless necklace encased in glass.

Sometimes the quiet got to me, but mostly I loved doing my own thing at my own pace and not having to move around other people and tolerate their odd habits or noises.

How could flirting and fighting walk such a thin line?

cooking.” The thought of her off making out with some guy who I knew wasn’t her boyfriend caused my head to pulse, so I focused on the second part of what Parker had said.

My mom had enough love for us, the rainforests, all the orphans in the world, and every neighbor kid who had ever hit her up for extortion in the name of school fundraisers.

I couldn’t help laughing. Her face was full-on grouch. As much as she hated being teased, being ignored was way worse in her book.

“Tall blondes with brown eyes. Feisty. Speedy in a truck but slower on foot.” I turned, as if surprised to see her jogging next to me. “Oh, look. There’s one right here.” She slapped me away good-naturedly, but I saw the question in her eyes. She didn’t want to believe there was truth in my teasing, but she still… wondered. Good.

“Why do you like Clay so much?” I asked, feeling grateful and grumpy. “You barely know him.” “I like what he does to you. You sit up a little taller when he’s around. You feel more.” “Right now I want to feel less.” “Feelings are good.” “Not these ones.”

I wanted to take back all the stupid things I’d ever said about her boyfriends. The more I thought about it, the more I realized Lauren was as buttoned-up as I was. There was a whole world behind the mask she wore, and I wanted to see it. I wanted to understand her motives. Maybe even let her see mine. But we couldn’t even be friends.

crazy. All I want to do is rearrange all the single people I know like Barbies and Kens, and none of you will let me.”

Guys could say whatever they wanted about being the tougher sex. They were way more touchy feely when it came to their egos.

His admiration was not for show. It was not an act. It was solely about me and for me, and it filled me up more than any pretty words could ever do.

Chemistry was a funny thing. I truly believed you could create chemistry with a person if you both wanted it. You could choose love. You could build it. None of this falling out of love business.

How would I rate kissing Clay Olsen? Five stars. Two enthusiastic thumbs up. Fireworks. Everywhere. He had wrecked me for all other men with one kiss, and I’d made sure he knew it the way I’d clung to him.

“Clay, I don’t want to backpedal. I don’t want to hate you anymore. And I’m good with friendship as long as we get this, too.”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t say it at the end of phone calls. Ta ta, I fancy you.” She snorted. “Okay, what then?” “Lauren, you are beautiful and weird, and I really like you. And I hope tomorrow doesn’t end in your dad wanting to punch me. Now go to bed, sweetheart.” I hung up before she spent another thirty minutes crafting an appropriate response.

I hadn’t trusted him with my whole heart because I was too afraid of what might happen if I let someone in. If people couldn’t see the real me, then they couldn’t judge me, and they couldn’t control that part of me, and my feelings were safe.

For her, every other guy was gray and fuzzy, and Clay was in vibrant color.

Love was this scary and beautiful thing that existed all around me. I could see it. I could read about it. But I’d never experienced it before.