The Hating Game

by Sally Thorne

I’ve always tried to make myself stronger in the only way I can: my mind and my mouth.

“I’m kidding. Come on, I’ll walk you down to your car.”

NOOOO WHAT

I pick an off-white vanilla one, like today’s missing shirt, because I am tragic.

gave him some to encourage the diabetes, darling, no other reason.”

“It’s inappropriate but here goes. Josh thought you were lying about your date because he can’t imagine you with anyone but himself.”

Helene has known all along

I shower and put on makeup, which is ridiculous. Why would I spray perfume into my cleavage? Or put on my nice jeans? There’s no one here to see me, or smell me. I’ve got nowhere to go.

Immediately I hang up and throw my phone onto the bed like a grenade. I wipe my damp palms on my thighs and let out a wheezing breath.

So real

“I’m not bored when I’m with you.” I’m mortified. “But I’d better just—” He cuts me off. “Better come over then.”

“Will you show me the muscles you worked on?” “I thought you wanted me for more than that.” I can hear a car start. At least I’m not the only impatient one.

“I won!” I scream as I run at him. He has enough time to put out his arms as I jump. He hits the back wall with a grunt as I manage to get my arms and legs around him.

His sweat smells like rainwater and cedar, leaving a faint rosemary-pine tingle in my nostrils. I press my face against his neck and breathe in,

“How do you smell so good after the gym?”

Its the pheremones

“Drink your tea, you little pervert.”

Yeah girl is sooooo horny

“You’d be so awkward afterward, you’d never speak to me again. You’d quit ahead of the interviews and go and live in the forest.”

Sometimes I can’t get the smell out of my nose and it’s been years.”

Mf has PTSD from that whike im gonna be doing that for a living

“I’d build you a shelter and find you a coconut, and then we’d pass the time.” “How?” My voice is barely more than a whisper. “Probably like this.” He presses his mouth to mine.

A miracle has occurred, and I don’t know when, but I know it now. Joshua Templeman does not hate me. Not a bit. There’s no way he could when he kisses me like this.

He’s an adult man, reduced to teenage make-out sessions

Literally

Fight with me, kiss me. Laugh at me. Tell me if you’re sad. Don’t make me go home.

“One more.” He kisses my cheek and I groan in misery. “Get outta here, Shortcake. And remember, I don’t want to see you freaking out tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m not going to get myself a husband or a life if I keep staying until nine o’clock at night, now am I? I’ll expect the report from Alan at five.”

Periodddd no way julies mad after shes been SO nice everytime

“Mr. Bexley, what are you looking at?” I calmly level my eyes at Mr. Bexley, and he physically jolts. He quickly averts his eyes and begins to comb his fingers through his sparse hair, his face burnished red.

Oop

Life is all about perspective,

“But you know he’s in love with you, right?”

Real

“And were we doing that too, Lucinda? Last night on my couch?” Danny’s jaw hits the floor.

WTF JOSH OMG

and my moral fibers strain uncomfortably.

“You’re my designated moral support.”

Awwwww

and my favorite retro-dork clothing site.

“Smurfette!

Awwww

It’s a relief that we’re at this point. The sooner we leave here, the sooner we can get it over with. My mind has run every scenario possible,

can keep the butterflies out of my system if I can avoid seeing the blue of his eyes or the shape of his mouth. The mouth I have kissed, over and over. No one can kiss me like he does, and it’s more proof the world is unfair.

“This weekend is going to be hard for me. But with you there, maybe it won’t be so bad.”

such beautiful hands. Or such a lovely scent to his skin.

I notice the faintest smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

Every part of him is engineered and maintained perfectly. I can’t believe I wasted all this time not admiring him.

A bunch of laughing college guys walk past too close and Josh puts his hand on the small of my back. Just like a real date would; protective, telling them, Mine.

The evening is perfumed by the thunderclouds overhead.

“My hostage. My blackmailed, unwilling captive. Stockholm Shortcake.”

“I can only apologize in advance for the things I’ll do to you.”

“It’s mainly your eyes.” His voice hangs in the space between my shoulder and his.

“Those absolutely insane eyes. Eyes like I’ve never seen before.”

“The most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen.” He says it like he wants me to understand the importance. I am grateful for the dark because I blush. “Thanks.”

I’ve damaged the little momentum he had going and I regret it instantly.

You’d said to me, ‘I’m going to work you so fucking hard.’ Any girl would have an erotic dream after you said that to her. Even one who hated your guts.”

take his jaw in both of my hands and kiss him.

was only about five-six.

Ew

Tears of frustration and wet mascara marking a Rorschach pattern on the pillowcase.

He’s seen me sweating, vomiting, feverish, and asleep. He’s seen me angry, frustrated, scared. Horny, lonely, heartsick. No matter how I look, it never seems to faze him. He always looks at me exactly the same way.

I’d kill for lashes like those, but they always seem to be lavished upon the most masculine of men.

He’s hugging my arm like a teddy bear.