Love Me, Hate Me: Friends to Lovers Romance

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Love Me, Hate Me: Friends to Lovers Romance Page 7

by Hawke Oakley


  “I see,” was Dr. Z’s final answer.

  I almost made a snarky comment, but I was too tired and exasperated. I held my tongue for once.

  He turned to Riley. “What do you think about this? About what Aaron just said?”

  I saw Riley shrug from the corner of my eye. I was surprised he didn’t have more to say. Maybe it was building up inside him, like it had in me. Maybe he was gonna be the next one to blow up. But an explosion never came. He seemed listless, somehow. Somber.

  “Is it true that you were being homophobic?” Dr. Z asked again, in the same cool but gentle voice.

  Riley made a small grunting noise in the back of his throat as he shifted in his seat, but he didn’t speak. Now his silence was grating on my nerves. Of course now he had nothing to say. Bullies never did when authorities confronted them. But I was surprised he didn’t deny it. That’s the kind of Riley-ism I expected by now.

  “Mister Evans?” Dr. Z pronounced his name deliberately, in a tone that expected an answer. Riley finally met his gaze.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Yes, what?” Dr. Z pressed.

  “Yes, I was being homophobic,” Riley said.

  It felt like someone had thrown water on me. A kind of wet, sharp shock of relief. Was I hearing things? I spoke before I could stop myself.

  “You called me a fag,” I stated.

  Riley’s eyes were burning a hole into the floor. “I know.”

  “Mr. Evans,” Dr. Z said with a small sigh. “I’m sure you know about the discrimination policy here. Slurs are a serious offence.” He shot me a glance to remind me that Riley wasn’t the only one in trouble here. “As is physical violence.”

  I shrugged sheepishly. Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.

  Dr. Z let out a deep sigh, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. I noticed we both did that. That was probably the only thing we had in common.

  “Mr. Jacobs,” he said. “I’ll ask you this first. In the case that I will write the report on this and allow you both to stay, are you comfortable continuing to share a room with Mr. Evans?”

  Riley’s head shot up. “What? Allowed to stay?”

  His voice cracked with terror. That was the first time I’d heard him truly scared.

  “Yes,” Dr. Z said. “This time – since it’s a first offense for both of you and it was a tricky situation – you’ll likely both be let off with a warning. But this incident combined with both your failing grades is difficult. The school might be pressed to expel you if things don’t improve.”

  “No,” Riley muttered, shaking his head. “No, no, I can’t get expelled.”

  He looked like he was in a trance. The whites of his eyes shone, like a cornered animal.

  “Unfortunately, you can and you will unless you turn things around,” Dr. Z stated. “It’s not my choice, boys. I’ll do what I can to get you out of trouble this time, but you’ll need to put in the effort yourselves.”

  “Out of trouble?” Riley murmured the words back. Jesus, was he okay? He was starting to freak me out a little.

  “What can we do?” I asked.

  He sighed. “Like I said, you’ll need to improve your grades. I recommend a tutor, and allotting time to study every day.” He turned to gaze at Riley, who was staring into space. “Are you listening, Mr. Evans?”

  “Huh. Yeah.”

  What the hell was wrong with him? I turned back to Dr. Z, who was rubbing his temple. “What about the fighting?” I asked.

  “I can make a case for it being self-defense against harassment,” he said, closing his eyes. “But that will only fly with the higher ups once, so please don’t let it happen again. Either of you.”

  “No slurs, no violence, better grades. Got it,” I said.

  “Mr. Evans?” Dr. Z said sharply. Riley sat up a little more.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m listening.”

  The prof narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “Are you sure?”

  “No fighting, don’t fail,” he repeated.

  “And no slurs,” I muttered.

  “Right,” Riley said. “Yeah.”

  Dr. Z regarded him for a moment, then clasped his hands together. “You know what? I’m going to give you both a chance to succeed immediately.”

  We listened as he went on.

  “I’d like the two of you to do an extra credit assignment. A group project.”

  I had to stop my eyes from rolling into the back of my skull. Great. Fucking amazing. I withheld the groan threatening to spill over and instead nodded.

  “What is it about?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

  He paused, making sure we were both still paying attention. “Write me an informal essay about each other.”

  Was I dead? I’m pretty sure I died and I was in hell.

  “Learn all you can. I want you both to dig deep into why you dislike each other,” he said. “There’s a reason for everything. Think about it. It’s easy to hate someone when you don’t know anything about them.” Dr. Z gave me a knowing glance. “As I’m well aware, you don’t have the fondest regard for me, am I right?”

  I sat up like I’d been shocked. I flushed in embarrassment. “N-no, that’s not true.”

  For the first time, Dr. Z laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not offended. But let me give you an example.” He reached over and touched the picture frame, the one with the horses I’d been staring at earlier. “I noticed your reaction to this photo, Mr. Jacobs. Horse fan?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I love horses.”

  “I do, too. We have something in common,” he said. “How do you feel about me now? A little less cold?”

  I was embarrassed about being put on the spot, but I had to admit that he was right. What he was explaining made sense. “Yeah, actually.”

  He nodded. “That’s the exercise. Find out about each other. You’re roommates, for heaven’s sake. There must be something you both share besides the four walls you live in.”

  I felt like I’d been hit by a truck of wisdom. It felt weird, but cool.

  I glanced at Riley but I couldn’t read his expression. He still looked kind of dazed at the mention of expulsion. Maybe he was hung up over that. I should ask him about it for the project.

  “Okay. Well.” Dr. Z stood, looking at us. “I think that’s enough for our talk. I’ve got a report to write up to save your hides, so don’t let my efforts go to waste.”

  “I won’t,” I said immediately, but when he gave me a glance, I changed my answer. “We won’t.”

  “There’s a good lad,” he said, smiling. I felt strange – almost warm and fuzzy. Like my number of enemies in college was dropping. It felt good.

  “Is there a, uh, due date for this project?” I asked.

  Dr. Z pondered this for a moment. “I’ll give you boys a month. Just don't hand it in late and expect me to be happy.”

  “We won’t,” I said.

  “Off you go, then.”

  Riley and I left his office, both heading to the elevator to our dorm room. Riley was quiet and more tense than usual. He hadn’t spoken much since Dr. Z dropped the bombshell that we could be expelled for our behaviour.

  “Um, you okay?” I asked.

  He nodded vaguely. Maybe he just needed some time alone. Hey, that was one thing we had in common already.

  “Do you want to meet up tomorrow and work on this?” I suggested.

  He turned to look at me in the eyes then. They had lost their sharp edge, gone almost grey around the edges. He looked lost and scared.

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. I felt strange suddenly. The way he was gazing at me made me feel like I was with a confused tourist in the middle of the mountains. Suddenly I had the urge to reach out and touch his arm comfortingly. So I did.

  I waited for a reaction, for him to wince or jerk his arm away, but it never came. He blinked slowly, staring at me with his big eyes.

  “Hey, man, it’s okay,” I said. “It’s not the end
of the world. We can get through this.”

  Riley’s eyes fell to the floor, then he looked back up at me from under his hair, almost like a submissive baby animal. Right now, he wasn’t the Riley that yelled at me, or the Riley that shoved me around and called me names. He wasn’t the Riley that had ordered me to pick up his spilled belongings on the first day we met.

  This was a different side of him, one I’d glimpsed just a little bit before, when he’d been drunk that night with Lily. This Riley wasn’t arrogant or cocky or a bully.

  This Riley was confused and scared.

  Suddenly he didn’t seem so different than me.

  Chapter Ten

  Riley and I laid in our respective beds, staring at the ceiling. I twirled a pen around in my hand. The air felt a bit stiff. I wasn’t used to Riley being this quiet while he was here after class – usually he was out with his friends or drinking or something, not holing himself up in the room like me. I wondered if that was on purpose – for the project – to try and live my experiences or something.

  “Hey,” I said, catching the pen. “So have you started yet?”

  “Huh?” he said loudly. Apparently I’d wrenched him out of another daze. He’d been having a lot of those lately. “Oh, the paper or whatever? No, not yet.”

  I sat up. “Well, we can start now, if you want? Since we’re both not doing anything.”

  “I guess.”

  My face fell. That wasn't the enthusiastic response I had hoped for, but it was better than nothing. I grabbed my binder and slapped a clean sheet of paper on it to compile notes. “I’ll go first, then. So, uhh…” I trailed off immediately. This was gonna be harder than I thought. I wasn’t great at small talk in the first place, much less with my ornery roommate I was basically being forced to get along with. Although I had to admit, he’d been more personable since Dr. Z chewed us out.

  I watched his glazed eyes bore into the ceiling. Maybe personable wasn’t the right word. More like “dead”.

  “Hey, Riley.”

  His head turned slowly towards me. “What? You didn’t ask me anything.”

  “Oh. Right.” I laughed awkwardly. “Okay, well. Let’s just start with where you were born, I guess.”

  “That’s boring,” he scoffed, staring back at the ceiling. “In a hospital, like you.”

  I grinned. “Not quite, actually.”

  This piqued his attention. He half sat up on his elbows, shooting me a curious glance. “What, did you hatch from a fucking egg?”

  “Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Close enough. I was born on a plane.”

  Riley’s eyes flashed. “What, for real?”

  “Yeah, for real.”

  “No way,” he said. “Don’t they have like, regulations about that?”

  “My mom said you need a doctor’s note, and she was pushy as hell about getting one.” I shrugged. “You’d be surprised how many babies happen airborne.”

  “That’s fucked up. Where the hell does it say you were born on your birth certificate?” he asked.

  “Colorado, since she was flying over it when it happened. Thank God. It could have been IN THE AIR,” I said, doing my best to imitate an official document voice.

  “So, was there like a doctor on board?”

  “Yep, thankfully. They moved my mom up to first class to give her space and then, bam, I’m like, hey mom! Sorry I ruined your flight!”

  Riley laughed now, his eyes sparkling as he kicked back onto his pillow. “That’s fucking wild, dude.”

  I couldn’t help but smiling too. I think this was the first conversation we ever had that didn’t involve yelling and cursing at each other.

  “Your turn,” I said. “Now you can’t not tell me where you were born.”

  Riley sighed and kicked one leg over the other. “Florida.” He said the word like it was something he wanted to spit out, like a bad taste in his mouth.

  “What’s wrong with Florida?” I asked.

  He turned and looked at me with dead eyes. “Have you ever been there?”

  “No, but it’s supposed to be, like, warm and nice, right?” I said.

  “Yeah, if you’re 80 years old,” Riley grunted.

  “I don’t get it. Can’t you surf and stuff?” I asked.

  He gestured exaggeratedly at himself. “Do I look like I surf and stuff?”

  I blinked at him. “I don’t know. I barely know anything about you,” I said honestly. “Do you surf and stuff?”

  Riley exhaled then said, “No.”

  “There,” I said, clicking the pen and writing notes down. “From Florida. Doesn’t surf. Hates old people.”

  “I didn’t say I hated old people, asshole,” Riley grumbled.

  I smirked and faked writing something down. “Loves to call me asshole.”

  Riley opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. His brows fell a little and his face softened. He turned away from me. “Hey, uh…”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I take it back,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean what I said. What I called you.”

  My heart rate picked up as the memory flashed before me again, the stabbing pain along with it. “Oh. That.”

  “I was just trying to get a rise out of you,” he said, still not looking at me. “You’re not… that.”

  I grimaced. Well, he was sort of right about it, but I didn’t think that’s what he meant.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Silence fell on the room. My eyes were glued to the paper where I’d written notes down, and Riley was burning a hole in the wall. My chest tightened for some reason. It had been easy to hate Riley – it had even been easy to pity him, to feel sorry for him when he acted like a wounded animal. But this was different. A strange feeling gnawed at my ribs like a worm. I almost clawed at my chest.

  I needed to change the subject, fast.

  “Do you like horses?” I asked.

  He half turned back towards me. “I… guess?”

  “What do you mean, you guess? You either do or you don’t.”

  He stared at me like I was speaking a different language. I saw the gears turning in his head. “I never thought about it before? It’s not like you see them every day.” As I opened my mouth to say something, Riley interrupted. “Let me guess. You were born on a plane and raised on a horse.”

  “Hey!” I crossed my arms, fake indignantly. “Well, you’re not wrong, but you’re not right, either.”

  He raised his brows, waiting for me to continue. I sighed and mentally prepared myself for this story, not even knowing how much of a shit he would give about it.

  “When I was young, we had a few horses. I was too small to take care of them, obviously, but my sister and parents would put me on for short rides and to pet them and stuff. We had one – a bay mare, that means she was dark brown with a black mane – she was my favourite. I think her real name was Elizabeth or something – God, who names a horse Elizabeth? – but I was a stupid kid and always called her Bucky because she liked to kick out at people she didn’t like.”

  Riley didn’t comment but smiled as he listened.

  “Anyway, when I got a little older, they let me ride her by myself as long as I had a helmet and everything. They were hesitant because she was kind of moody, but she loved me and I loved her. I think I loved that horse more than my sister at that point.” I paused. “Do you have any siblings?”

  He shook his head. “Only child. Like it that way. Go on.”

  “Well, one day, I was riding her out in the paddock, and this weird hailstorm started up. It came completely out of nowhere, and it really freaked both of us. But Bucky, she…” I trailed off, not really wanting to tell this part of the story. “It spooked her really badly and she panicked and kicked me off. It wasn’t her fault, but I landed badly on this piece of the fence.”

  Riley furrowed his brows as I pulled my shirt back loose over my shoulder. He came towards me slowly, curiosity burning in his eyes. I showed him the scar
that ran from the top of my shoulder jagged across to my spine. He made a noise in the back of his throat. The scar was normal for me – I saw it every time I took my shirt off in front of a mirror. It was just another part of me, like having ten fingers. But I knew other people tended to regard it differently – like a painful, distant event.

  I felt Riley’s breath on my bare skin now and almost shuddered. I hadn’t realized he leaned in so close to look at it. His body was tensed, and if I didn’t know any better I thought maybe he wanted to reach out and touch it. Suddenly I felt too hot. This was getting more intimate than I imagined it would.

  “Anyway,” I said, rolling my sleeve back down and breaking the tension in the air. Riley immediately stepped back to a healthy distance since the show was over. “It was a bad wound and my parents got really upset. I don’t remember much except the hail and Bucky spooking, and screaming when the fence post impaled me. There was a hospital trip that’s hazy. Lot of white and doctors mumbling. But god, do I remember my parents fighting.”

  Riley’s expression screwed up in sympathy. I knew that look. Every kids whose parents fight knows that look.

  “What happened after?” he asked.

  I sighed and fidgeted with the edge of the paper. I hadn’t noticed until now that I’d been ripping off pieces and rolling them around between my fingers. “They had this huge argument about Bucky. That she wasn’t safe, not in the first place but especially not for kids, and how she wasn’t worth the trouble.”

  I felt the sting of tears and shut my eyes, tight. I didn’t want to cry in front of Riley. I took a moment to compose myself, breathing in and out and trying not to let my voice shake.

  He stood awkwardly in the center of the room, towering over me as I sat on the bed. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to sit back down or what.

  “Then what?” he asked quietly.

  My voice broke this time and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “They got rid of her. Sold her while I was still in the hospital.”

  Hearing the words in my own voice – saying them out loud, as if reaffirming the past – opened the floodgates. Tears that were rimming my eyes flowed freely now, and my sinuses clogged and that piercing pain you get in your head when you cry gripped my brain. Suddenly I wondered what the fuck I had been thinking, bringing up this story. Riley must have regretted asking, too. Shit. Here I was, bawling my eyes out in front of a guy who had, until just recently, been my biggest enemy.

 

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