Kinda Hate You: An Enemies to Lovers College Romance

by Allie Everhart

  "I'm not here to clean the table," Birdie says.

  "Then what do you want?"

  "I wanted to meet you. I assume your Cal's new girlfriend?”

  "I am." Lara smiles and wraps her arm around mine. "Do you know him?"

  "I do." Birdie smiles at me. "Cal and I are friends."

  I could be imagining it but I swear she said 'friends' in a way that had some hidden meaning, like she's questioning if we really are friends or more than that. Honestly, I don't know what we are, and I'm even more confused after that kiss.

  "We grew up together," I say to Lara. "Birdie is best friends with my sister, Taylor."

  "Nice meeting you," Lara says to Birdie, then she turns back to me. "So about Saturday night. I was hoping we could go out but I have an event to attend."

  "It's fine. I already have plans for Saturday night. We'll figure something out later."

  She tilts her head. "What plans do you have?"

  I glance at Birdie. "It's a charity event downtown. I'm accepting an award for my dad. He can't be there."

  "Who are you going with?"

  "Me," Birdie says.

  Lara turns to face Birdie, looking her up and down. She smiles. "Good. I'm sure you'll have a nice time together."

  She's happy I'm going with Birdie because she doesn't see her as a threat. If she only knew how much I like Birdie. How attracted I am to her. But I can't act on that attraction so Lara has nothing to worry about.

  "I need to finish cleaning," Birdie says, walking away.

  Lara wraps her arms around me. "I've missed you. We need to spend more time together."

  "I don't have a lot of free time. I'm trying to study more this semester. Get my grades up."

  "You could make time for me." She kisses me, which makes me uncomfortable. I don't like kissing her in the coffee shop, especially with Birdie just a few feet away.

  She's looking at us out the side of her eye. She finishes wiping down a table, then walks over to John as he's filling the stir sticks. She puts her arm around him and whispers something in his ear. He turns and smiles at her and they kiss.

  What the hell? They can't kiss at work! She's going to get fired.

  She glances at me as she lets go of John, then walks back to behind the counter.

  "Cal," Lara says, sounding angry.

  "What?"

  She narrows her eyes at me. "What is wrong with you?"

  "What'd I do?"

  "You're acting like I'm not even here. You won't even kiss me!"

  "I don't like kissing in public." I pick up my coffee. "I need to finish this and head out. I'll call you later."

  "Are we going out Friday or not?"

  "I don't know yet."

  She huffs. "Whatever, Cal." She storms off, going out the door to her car.

  A few minutes later, Birdie appears. "Ready to go?"

  "Yeah." I take her backpack from her.

  "Cal, you don't need to—"

  "I got it." I walk out to my SUV, still irritated from seeing John with Birdie. I open the door for her, then drop her backpack on the back seat. I come around and get in the driver's side and take off.

  "Why are you mad?" Birdie asks as we're driving.

  "I'm not mad." I grab my phone and plug it in.

  "Did you and Lara have a fight?"

  I glance at her. "So you like this guy or what?"

  "John?"

  "Who else would I be talking about?"

  "Why are you being such an ass?"

  "He's not your type."

  "How do you know my type?"

  "Really, Birdie? I've known you forever."

  "Doesn't mean you know what type of guy I like."

  "That John guy is just like the guy you dated last summer. And that lasted what? A few weeks?"

  "John is nothing like that guy. And just because I didn't keep dating that guy doesn't mean he wasn't my type."

  "He took you to the freaking opera. You hated it."

  "I didn't hate it. I just got tired and fell asleep."

  "Because it was so damn boring. I would've fallen asleep too."

  "At least I'm open to trying something different. I don't date the same type of guy over and over."

  "Lara isn't like any of the girls I've dated. She doesn't even have blond hair."

  "Great, so her hair color is different. But she didn't act any different than your other girlfriends. She's snobby and mean."

  "She's not mean."

  "She looked at me like I was too ugly to have a chance with you."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "When I told her I was going to the charity thing with you, she looked me up and down and smiled, like she was happy it was me you're going with and not some hot, skinny girl."

  "Why do you care what she thinks? Your boyfriend wasn't being friendly to me and I don't give a shit."

  "He was friendly. He made you a drink."

  "That's his job."

  "John's an introvert. He doesn't talk a lot, even to me."

  "Another example of why he's not your type. You talk constantly, and it drives you crazy when the other person doesn't talk back."

  "I'm sure he'll talk more once he gets to know me. And if he doesn't, then I can talk and he can listen."

  "So other than the no talking thing, you have fun with this guy?"

  "I don't know. We've only been on one date."

  "And how was the date?"

  "Not the best, but we were both tired from work."

  "And the kiss?" I stop at a light and look at her. She's fidgeting with her phone, which means she's trying to figure out what to say.

  "It sucked," I say, answering for her.

  "It didn't suck," she insists.

  "It sucked." I pull forward as the light changes.

  "How would you know?"

  "I can tell just by looking at the guy he doesn't know what the hell he's doing."

  "That's such a guy thing to say. Every guy thinks he's better than any other guy at kissing and sex."

  "If he's that bad at kissing, imagine how bad he is at sex."

  "I didn't say he was a bad kisser. You did."

  "You said it by hesitating when I asked."

  "You don't know what you're talking about."

  "When I asked you how the kiss was, you had to think about it. That's the sign of a bad kiss."

  "No it's not."

  "How was the kiss you had with me?"

  She smiles and looks away.

  "Exactly. Just proved my point."

  "I didn't even say anything!"

  "You said it with the smile that immediately showed up on your face when I asked. And it wasn't just any smile. It was a smile that said the kiss was better than you've ever had and you wish you could do it again."

  She laughs. "You are so full of yourself. That is not at all what it said. And my smiles do not have different meanings. A smile is a smile."

  "Wrong again." I turn onto her street.

  "I'm not wrong! You're crazy!"

  "I know all your smiles. Someone who doesn't know you would think they're all the same but I've had years to figure them out."

  "And what exactly are they?"

  "Your happy smile, for when you're really happy about something. Your sad smile, which shows up when you feel sorry for Max but don't want him to know. Your annoyed smile, which you use mostly with me when you're not really mad at me but you want to be, or pretend to be."

  "This is so ridiculous," she mutters.

  "Are you saying it's not true?"

  She sighs. "Are you done?"

  "It's a long list but I'll end with the one that I call your secret weapon smile."

  "And which one is that?"

  "Your deceiving smile. The one that makes you look all sweet and innocent but hiding behind it is some devious thought nobody can figure out."

  "It's not always devious," she says, giving me the smile.

  I'm parked in her driveway now and turn the engine of
f.

  "What is it then? What are you thinking right now?"

  "Can't tell you. That's the whole point of the smile. To make people wonder what I'm thinking."

  "So you admit you have different smiles."

  She opens the door. "Let's go."

  When we get inside the house, Max runs up to me. "Cal!"

  "Hey, buddy." I tousle his hair. "You're not hiding that water camera on you, are you?"

  "No." He laughs. "Mom took it away."

  "I'm gonna go change," Birdie says, going to her room.

  "So what's new?" I say to Max as I sit on the couch.

  He sits right next to me, staring up at me like I'm his idol. He's a good kid. A little odd, but still a good kid.

  "I got a picture of a gecko climbing on a banana."

  "That's cool. You doing anything else besides taking pictures?"

  "Not really. I watch TV sometimes."

  "How's school?"

  "It's okay." He leans back on the couch, staring down at the floor and kicking his chubby legs back and forth.

  "School can be tough. It can be hard to make friends, at least it was for me."

  His eyes dart to mine. "It was?"

  "Sure. It's hard for everyone. And kids can be mean."

  "Did you have any friends?"

  "A few. I got more as I got older."

  "What'd you do to get friends?"

  "Well for one I kept doing what I liked doing even if it wasn't popular. For me it was golf. Most kids don't care about golf but it's all I wanted to do. One day I asked this other kid if he wanted to hit a golf ball and turns out he did. He didn't want to play golf but he liked hitting the ball."

  "And then he was your friend?"

  "Not a close friend, but yeah, we hung out. But I also tried doing what he liked to do, which was playing baseball. I didn't love baseball but he did and it gave us something to do. We'd switch off, sometimes hitting golf balls and sometimes baseballs."

  "I don't like baseball."

  "Have you tried it?"

  "No. I'd rather be taking pictures."

  "Maybe just give it a try. Or try something else the kids at school like. And then let them try taking some pictures."

  "They wouldn't do it."

  "Have you asked?"

  "No. I just know they wouldn't." He looks down. "They don't want to hang out with a fat kid."

  "Hey." I nudge him. "Don't talk like that. Don't even think that way. When you do, other people pick up on it, even if you don't say anything."

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Forget about your weight. If you do, other people will too. Be confident. Don't slump your shoulders and look down like you're trying to hide. Stand tall and act like you own the place."

  "It won't work."

  "It did for your sister. You ever hear stories about people making fun of her?"

  He shakes his head.

  "Because they don't. They wouldn't dare. She doesn't even give them a chance to. She walks in a room and takes it over. That's what it means to be confident. You don't worry about what other people think. You just worry about being you. But that doesn't mean you act like others don't matter."

  He nods. "I think I know what you're saying."

  "I'm ready," Birdie says as she comes into the living room.

  Max jumps up and runs past her.

  "Where are you going?" she calls after him.

  "I'm gonna learn baseball!" he yells.

  "What's that about?" she asks me.

  "We had a short lesson on making friends."

  She walks over to me and smiles. "Thanks for doing that."

  "No problem. Want to head out?"

  She's wearing one of the sundresses I love so much on her. This one is teal and reminds me of water which makes me think of being in the pool with her. I love our swimming lessons. I'm going to try to keep them going as long as I can.

  "I like that color on you," I tell her as we're driving to the dress store.

  "Thanks." She swipes through her phone. "I'm so excited! They just released the colors for next year."

  "What colors?"

  "Every year there's a new list of hot colors. It tells you what colors will be big in fashion. You'll see them on the runway."

  "You really like fashion, don't you?"

  "Some would say I'm obsessed." She laughs. "I just like it. It's fun."

  "Why don't you do it for a living?"

  "Because I'm going to be an actuary."

  "You are?"

  "I don't know. Probably. I've been looking into it."

  "Sounds boring as shit."

  "Way to be supportive there, Cal."

  "I'm just saying, why not consider fashion if that's what you love?"

  "Fashion is for people who look like models. Tall, skinny girls who can wear five-inch heels without falling."

  "I doubt every person in fashion looks like that."

  "Maybe not, but I don't know what I'd do if I went into fashion. It's not like I can design clothes."

  "You could be a buyer. I dated this girl a couple years ago who was a buyer. She got to decide what the store would be selling each season. Sounded like a fun job. Not for me, but for someone who likes fashion. You should check it out."

  "Maybe, although my dad's really pushing this actuary thing. He said it's an in-demand job and I could make a lot of money."

  "But do you really want to do that?"

  "I'm not sure yet. I haven't decided."

  We arrive at the store and as I'm taking my seatbelt off, Birdie stops me, her hand on mine.

  "Cal?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I heard you talking to Max back at the house."

  "How much did you hear?"

  "More than you probably wanted me to."

  "It's not a big deal. We were just talking."

  "But that's the thing. People don't normally take the time to talk to him. So the fact that you did means a lot to him. And me." She pauses. "And I liked what you told him. It's good advice."

  "Hope it helps."

  She smiles at me, and it's the happy smile. The one l like best on her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Birdie

  It's Saturday night and we're heading to the event to accept Lou's award. Traffic is bad so what should've taken twenty minutes has already taken an hour.

  "Just a few more miles," Cal says. "It's the next exit."

  "I'm getting nervous," I say, taking a deep breath.

  "Why are you nervous? I'm the one who has to give an acceptance speech."

  "I've never gone to something like this. I'm not comfortable around rich people."

  "You're comfortable around me. And Taylor. My parents."

  "Yeah, but you guys aren't like the typical rich people. You don't talk in a snobby accent or hold a cup with your pinky finger sticking out."

  He laughs. "That's not what rich people do. You've been watching too many old movies. Speaking of that, how's your movie class?"

  "I've realized I'm terrible at writing reviews. I don't know what to say. When I watch movies, I just watch. I don't analyze every little detail of the story. And it's a time consuming class, having to watch all those movies."

  "I'll watch them with you if you want some company. Then when they're over we can discuss them so you'll know what to write."

  "You'd really do that for me?"

  "Sure. I love old movies. You know that."

  "Actually, I didn't until just recently when Taylor told me."

  "Guess you don't know me as well as you thought you did," he says, glancing at me.

  "Guess not."

  Traffic comes to a stop and I feel him looking at me.

  "That dress looks great on you. You like it?"

  "I love it." I run my hand over the silky fabric. "I've never had a dress like this."

  It's a dark blue evening gown that's sleeveless with a square neckline. I didn't think I liked a square neckline but I do on this dress. It makes it
look elegant, or maybe regal is a better word. The color is regal too. It's a deep blue fabric that has hints of black swirling through it. The dress is fitted through the body then flares out just slightly at the bottom. It's a gorgeous design.

  Barb loaned me her pearls for the night, which I thought would look ridiculous on me but they actually look perfect with the dress.

  "You did okay, Tuckerman." I shoot him a smile.

  "I'd have to agree."

  Cal picked out the dress. He saw it the minute we walked in the store. I thought he only picked it because he wanted to avoid having to shop for hours, but he really did love the dress. I did too. I tried on at least ten other dresses but kept coming back to the blue one. Cal somehow knew it was the perfect dress for me.

  We finally reach our exit but we're still barely moving. I look out the window and see a billboard with a giant green truck.

  "Cal, look!" I point to the billboard. "End of the month!"

  He sees it and smiles. "Monster truck show. Your favorite."

  "I want to go so bad. I missed the last one."

  "Then go."

  "It's too expensive. And I don't have anyone to go with."

  "Would Isla go?"

  "She would if I'd go to the ballet with her but I really don't like the ballet. And she doesn't like monster trucks."

  "Make John go."

  "Yeah, that's probably not going to happen."

  "Why? Is he another opera guy?"

  "No. We're um," I pause, "not going out anymore."

  "When did that happen?" Cal asks.

  "Last night. We were supposed to go to dinner but I told him I didn't want to go."

  "Why didn't you want to go?"

  "Because I was dreading it. If you're dreading going out with someone, you probably shouldn't be dating them."

  "Was he mad?"

  "Not really. That's one of the things I didn't like about him. He didn't show any emotion. I never knew if he was angry or happy or bored. I couldn't tell. He always seemed the same."

  "At least you didn't let it go on too long."

  "No, but I still have to see him at work which is awkward."

  Cal pulls forward as the traffic moves and we're finally able to turn onto the street where the event is being held.

  "What'd you do last night?" I ask.

  "Lara and I went to a movie."

  I was hoping he'd gone out with his friends, not Lara. When I met her the other day I didn't like her. But Cal obviously does. At least she knows something about golf.