The Shortest Distance Between Love & Hate

by Sandy Hall

  “Ah!” Paisley says. “I forgot chips.”

  “I’ll go get a plate of them for us to share because I didn’t grab any either,” I say. I take a deep breath while I wait in line and give myself a pep talk. I need to come clean. I need to tell her that my name isn’t Bart. She might be annoyed, or maybe even embarrassed, or hate me for lying to her, but I can’t let this go on indefinitely.

  I feel ready to confess.

  When I get back, she’s staring at her phone. She looks up at me, and I know my plan has gone horribly wrong.

  “Who are you? Tell me your name,” she says, her tone accusing, her whole demeanor changed in the minutes I was away getting chips. She’s leaning away from me and looking intently at my face, trying to read my expression. “Your real name.”

  “Carter Schmitt,” I say, along with what I hope is my most charming smile.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  I open my mouth to say something, anything, but she shakes her head and jumps up, leaving me in the dust.

  -PAISLEY-

  I run all the way back to the dorm. It’s only as I go to enter the building that I realize I don’t have my wallet, where my student ID is, which is what I need to use to get in the front door of the dorm.

  I touch my room key in my pocket, but my ID card is definitely on my desk. I should probably get one of those phone cases with the card slots so I never leave my dorm without it.

  I debate going back to find Stef, or at least text her, but then Carter is right there and I suppose I have no choice but to talk to him. Apparently, he can’t take a hint. Running away from him wasn’t enough.

  He doesn’t say a word. I purse my lips at him dramatically and turn away. There’s a picnic table right outside the door to our dorm, so I take a seat on one of the benches and Carter sits next to me.

  I stand up and walk around the table, taking the seat across from him instead. I want to see his face while I tell him exactly what I think of him. I am almost shaking with anger. I couldn’t believe when I took out my phone and saw the responses I’d gotten to the picture I’d sent Madison and Lizzie. Madison asked who the guy in the picture was because he looked familiar.

  But Lizzie. Lizzie knew immediately.

  Lizzie: That’s Carter Schmitt. Didn’t you used to hate him?

  He was indeed Carter Schmitt and I did indeed hate him. We went to middle school with him, but then he moved away before high school.

  I clasp my hands together and grind my teeth. I suck in a deep breath.

  “I’m so pissed off now that I know who you are.”

  He studies me, squinting at the setting sun, but doesn’t say a word.

  “You lied to me.”

  “Technically—”

  I cut him off. “You can shove that technicality right up your ass.”

  He holds his hands up defensively. “You acted like you knew me at the party.”

  “I thought I’d met you earlier in the day. Not because I thought I knew you from middle school! I didn’t recognize you. I think I blocked you out because you were so hateful.”

  “Ah, right,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Um. Well. What does this mean in terms of us?”

  I can tell he’s picking his words very carefully. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him. I guess I didn’t spend much time looking at him in middle school. I always regretted not defending Henry more, but anytime Carter got on his case it was almost always when Henry was alone. Makes sense. That’s how bullies tend to work.

  “Us?” I ask. “You were hideous to my best friend. And you’ve been lying to me from minute one.”

  “I didn’t lie to you. I wanted to make a new first impression.”

  I hold out my hand in a “stop” gesture. “Sorry. There’s no excuse for some of the stuff you did to Henry. And there’s no excuse for lying to me. Also, I thought you hated excuses.” I make sure my tone is extra mocking on that last word.

  “I do,” he says. “But it’s not an excuse. It’s a fact.”

  He has obviously never dealt with someone who knows how to hold a grudge. He’s about to find out how much I care about his “facts.”

  “You flushed his clothes down the toilet during gym class. You hid his glasses so he had to walk around in his sports goggles all day. You copied his homework and cheated off of him during tests. You stole his lunch. You didn’t even eat it. You would take it and stomp on it and make a mess and leave the remains in the hallway for the custodians to clean up.”

  I’m rattling off the things I remember. There was probably a lot more, stuff that Henry never told me or that I never heard about.

  “You remember all that, huh?” Carter asks.

  “Of course I do. And so does Henry.”

  “So you probably had an I Hate Carter Schmitt Club.”

  “We called you Farter Shit, but yes. Basically.”

  “Clever. I can’t believe the whole school didn’t call me that.”

  “Well, I was the only one who called you that, mostly to make Henry laugh. And since I’m not a horrible person, I never spread it around school.”

  He gulps. He knows I’m right.

  “This does not look great for me.” His face is bright red, like he has the worst sunburn that I’ve ever seen.

  “It doesn’t,” I say. I’m glad he seems resigned to this, that he’s not fighting me, even though I’m kind of in the mood for a fight.

  “Well, I’m sorry. Whatever good that does at this point.”

  “It’s a little late for sorry.”

  He wipes his hands down his face and sighs. “Can we at least be friends?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “We live in the same dorm, we’re at the same school. Wouldn’t it be easier to be friends than enemies?”

  “No. I’ll avoid the crap out of you. Don’t worry. This won’t affect your life at all.”

  “Jeez, Paisley, that’s not what I’m worried about.”

  I hate how my name sounds coming from his mouth. I honestly don’t know the last time I was this angry. It probably involved Amelia Vaughn, queen bee of my high school class. Carter and Amelia would be perfect for each other.

  “I liked you,” I say, my voice teetering too close to tears. I need to get away from him. Especially because like barely covers how I feel about him. How I felt about him. At least he proved he wasn’t worth it sooner rather than later.

  I stand and stumble over a large rock, stubbing my toe. That was super smooth. I march toward the door, ignoring the pain in my toe and the lump in my throat.

  Of course, when I get to the door, I remember again that I left my room without my wallet, so now I get to wait for either someone to let me in or for Carter to notice and help me.

  I want to throw up.

  Carter sits at the picnic table with his head in his hands, like he might cry. He better not cry. He doesn’t deserve to cry.

  He looks up then and meets my eyes. I put my hands on my hips and stare at the door, willing it to open.

  I hear him shuffle across the path over to the door, and he slides his ID card through the reader.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “The least I can do,” he mutters.

  He doesn’t come into the building with me and I don’t look back. I run up the six flights of stairs to my room and text Stef.

  Paisley: Don’t leave the BBQ on my account, but when you get home have I got a story for you.

  I add a few angry emojis for emphasis before hitting send.

  I know I should text Henry, but I’m not prepared to text Henry. Or anyone else from high school. I have betrayed myself and everything I stand for by making out with Carter Schmitt. I really thought I was falling for him. I can’t be trusted.

  Stef comes in a few minutes later. “What’s up? I need to know right now.”

  I suck in a deep breath.

  “It’s bad news. Very bad news.”

  -CARTER-

  Well, th
at went poorly.

  At least I know that if I run from the fitness center to my dorm, it only takes four and a half minutes.

  I go to my room and lay down on my bed, putting my hands over my face. I honestly can’t imagine a worse turn of events than what just happened.

  The door to my room opens and Ray comes in.

  “Did you tell her?” he asks.

  “Well, she found out.”

  “That’s weak, dude,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”

  I shrug. “I wasn’t really.”

  “Did you apologize?”

  “She didn’t want to hear it.”

  “I feel like that’s just the worst excuse. You didn’t have to get yourself wrapped up in this in the first place. So not cool. Not a good look for you.”

  “Listen,” I say, sitting up and scrubbing my hands across my face. “I’m not usually like this. I just made a mistake.”

  “Sure, whatever you gotta tell yourself. I’m going to my brother’s tonight. He lives closer to my first class tomorrow anyway.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Later,” Ray says.

  Great. The girl of my dreams hates me and my roommate can’t stand to be around me and I have to be up for work before the sun rises. Everything is just perfect.

  -PAISLEY-

  “So,” I start. I slide down to the floor and lean against my bed. Stef sits next to me. “His name is not Bart. His real name is Carter Schmitt.”

  “I like it. Carter Schmitt.”

  “I hate it. I hate him.”

  “What the hell happened at that barbecue? I left you alone for thirty seconds. What could he have possibly done in such a short amount of time?”

  “Well, I found out that he lied about who he was.”

  “Yeah, that’s not cool.”

  “On top of that, we went to middle school together. And he was really mean to my best friend, Henry. I sent a couple of my friends a selfie Carter and I took last night, and one of them recognized him right away.”

  “Friends are so useful like that.”

  “They are.” I sigh. “I can’t believe how mean he used to be to Henry. I swear I blocked it out.”

  “Sometimes boys are mean,” Stef says.

  “This was above and beyond thirteen-year-old-boy mean. Carter made sure Henry’s life was miserable. Like, I don’t even really want to go into it.”

  “How did you not recognize him?” Stef asks.

  “Well, he moved away before high school. And he looks different now. Taller, better haircut. No braces. And in a dark basement? I didn’t recognize him. I don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together after that when I saw him when I was sober and in better light. But I guess I didn’t think I knew him. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Maybe I was protecting myself.”

  “An ignorance-is-bliss scenario.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Were you and Henry ever together?” she asks.

  “No. Definitely not. I told you we went to the prom as friends. Nothing else.”

  “And you never had a crush on him?”

  “Henry?” I ask with a laugh. “It never even went through my head to have a crush on Henry. People in high school always assumed we were together but we’re friends. Really good friends. It’s kind of annoying how you can’t be best friends with a guy without it being suspect in some way.”

  Stef nods. “Sorry. I just want to get the story straight, you know?”

  “Yeah, I suppose these are all important details for someone coming into this later in the game.”

  “Exactly.”

  I put my head in my hands and sigh.

  “I can’t believe he lied to me like that.”

  Stef rubs my back and I feel a little better.

  “So what are you going to do?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “What can I do? I need to dodge him for the next four years.”

  “You don’t want to confront him?”

  “I kind of did confront him. He followed me back from the barbecue and we had a fight outside.”

  “He seemed so nice.”

  “Well, he’s not. He obviously hasn’t changed since we were thirteen if he’s pulling crap like this.”

  “Yeah,” Stef agrees.

  “I’m just really sad,” I say. “I thought he liked me. I really liked him. I thought this was going to lead to something. The whole thing didn’t even last forty-eight hours. It’s like I’m not even allowed to be happy that long.” I hate how whiny I sound, but I also feel like I need to get it out of my system.

  “We need to think of a distraction.”

  “Yeah, good idea.”

  “You could make an angry T-shirt to wear tomorrow, and that way, if you see him, you can point at it and he’ll know to stay away.”

  I laugh. “I like that idea.”

  “Now we just need to come up with the perfect saying for it.”

  I decide to compose a lengthy text to Lizzie and Madison, explaining what’s been going on with me for the past forty-eight hours.

  But Henry. How am I ever going to tell Henry?

  I frown at the thought. Telling Henry is not something I’m prepared to do at the moment. I’ll leave that to Future Paisley. She can handle that I’m sure.

  For now, I respond to the texts from Lizzie and Madison and brainstorm angry T-shirt slogans with Stef.

  It’s exactly the kind of catharsis that I need.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  -CARTER-

  In the midst of everything that happened yesterday, I almost forgot that I have my first day of work today. Luckily, I remembered to set up an alarm for it before everything went down. I knew that I would forget that I needed to be up at 5:38 in the morning.

  It’s just the kind of thing I would block out of my mind.

  I know myself.

  Especially after what happened with Paisley yesterday.

  Man, did she lay into me. And I deserved it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

  This week is on-the-job training, but I still have to be there at six to learn how to open the building up for six thirty. Who in their right mind goes to the gym at six thirty? (I know. I know. Lots of people. But that’s hard for me to fathom. I’m not judging them.)

  I barely slept last night because I kept hearing Paisley’s list of the things I did to Henry. It repeated over and over again. You would have thought it might lull me to sleep eventually, but instead it was like each time I went through the list, I remembered things in more vivid detail. I was such an asshole back then. I could and should apologize for that stuff, but not to Paisley. I should apologize to Henry. This isn’t exactly her battle to fight.

  I just don’t know what to do about the way I acted the past few days. I don’t know how to make that up to her. Because it’s something I did to her. No matter how I justified it in my head.

  It’s not cold out, but I shiver on my walk to work. I’m probably in some kind of shock from lack of sleep. At least I don’t have to operate heavy machinery.

  There’s another person lurking around the front doors of the building when I get there, but I can only just make out their shadow in the predawn light. I check my phone. It’s 5:58. I can’t believe I made it.

  And that’s when I realize who the other person at the door is. For a second, I think it must be a mirage.

  But no. It’s Paisley.

  It’s really Paisley. Has she come to continue our argument at my place of employment?

  “Well, if it isn’t Farter Shit,” she says. Her eyes are droopy but at least she has a thermos of coffee with her. She takes a sip. I envy her. All the thoughts and arguments I had with myself in the middle of the night immediately go out of my head.

  “Morning, Parsley,” I say. People calling her Parsley in middle school was another thing that came back to me last night. As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I know it’s not the best way to show her that I’ve changed. But I
can’t take it back now.

  She rolls her eyes and I prepare another zinger. But it’s too early in the morning to get into a war of words right now.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask instead.

  “Here? At the fitness center? At six in the morning?”

  “Yeah.”

  She just shakes her head. Guess I’m supposed to assume she works here too.

  It’s now 5:59. How can time possibly be moving this slowly?

  Before I can say anything else, or even think of anything else to say, the door opens and our boss Jordan lets us in. She wastes no time showing us where to store our belongings and giving us the rundown of the rules. When Paisley takes off her hoodie, I notice she’s wearing a T-shirt that says I DON’T HOLD GRUDGES, I JUST REMEMBER FACTS.

  She doesn’t look at me.

  “You can have that coffee with you at the desk, along with water. I know it’s early in the morning. Technically the rule is only water at the desk, but I definitely make exceptions for the openers. And the closers. It can be a long day, and we’re here until eleven most nights,” Jordan says.

  Paisley and I nod. She looks more awake than I feel.

  “And you,” Jordan says, turning to me. “If you want coffee, we do have a machine in the office. Feel free to brew some when you get in. I already have a pot going this morning.” I’ve never been a coffee person, but I’m starting to think that this job will make me one.

  Our training continues at a brisk pace. Jordan is going to stay with us during our shifts for the next week to make sure we get the hang of everything. She also hands us checklists of what needs to get done before opening and a handbook on employee conduct. She’s remarkably efficient. And obviously a morning person.

  Jordan goes to take a phone call and leaves us alone at the desk just after eight o’clock. I think I should be able to manage checking someone in, but I’m worried about anything bigger than that. It’s a good thing we have a full week of training ahead of us.

  I watch Paisley rearrange the area of desk right in front of her. She stacks the event pamphlets and organizes the pens and pencils into a neat bouquet in the container.