I Hate You, Marry Me

by Jamie Knight

  Along the way there, I see a limo. It’s a little ahead of me and idling by the curb. Probably waiting for one of the many wealthy people who live around here. It’s such a gaudy display of wealth and all I can ask is why bother with such a useless thing?

  It just so happens to be my luck that the person the limo is waiting for is Savannah King. Ugh. I had been trying to forget about that dumb dream I had had about her and, now, it just comes flooding back. I can’t blame her for my sex-obsessed mind, but I can blame her for being a stuck-up rich girl.

  I’ve hated her for years— ever since we were kids. Her overly wealthy father bought the first auto parts plant my father had managed, and then he closed it down. My family had just been getting back on its feet and then that happened. Things ended up not going to total hell, but the Kings were absolutely no help in that regard.

  I mean, I know I can’t blame Savannah for the shitty things her dad did when we were kids, but, now that we’re older, she doesn’t seem to have outgrown her wealth bubble. She’s privilege walking and, whenever I see her, I can’t help but think about how much she’s benefited from her dad’s shady business deals.

  She steps into the limo and the driver closes the door. And there’s a prime example. A limo is over the top. She doesn’t need to be escorted everywhere by a personal driver, but she is, and in a limo, nonetheless. The long, black car goes by me as I continue my walk.

  I hate that I let myself get so caught up in her. It would be so much easier if I just didn’t have any feelings towards her— hate or otherwise.

  Plus, it doesn’t help that she’s fucking sexy, with her long legs and perfect curves. I try to ignore it, but there is no way I can deny that I am a little attracted to her.

  I just had a full-blown sex dream about her! Fucking her has to be better in real life— not that I’ll ever find out. I could never bring myself to even pursue her, and I doubt she’d give me a second look, anyway.

  I hurry back home, mad at myself for gawking for too long. Savannah makes me feel so different from who I usually am, since I don’t really hate a whole lot of people— not the way I hate her.

  Plus, I don’t want to be rushing to class later. I still need to shower and eat something before the test. I could probably fit in an extra task or two if I budgeted my time well— and stopped thinking about Savannah.

  I get my ass busy, telling myself to quickly forget about everything I want to forget about. It works and soon I’m back to my usual self, going through my every day routine, not thinking about Savannah at all.

  At least, not that much, anyway.

  Chapter Three

  Savannah

  I’m on the way to my embryology class, trying to book it because of our test today. I’m not worried about being late, but I like getting to class early whenever we’re having an exam—that way I can situate myself and calm down before the test starts.

  And if I get to class before most other people, I get to choose from more seats. I don’t have that one seat I have to be in every time, but, for me, where I sit does change how I feel about the lecture. I am a little picky when it comes to my little rituals, but they help me move through each day.

  I’m quickly walking down the hallway, when something I see stops me in place.

  Shit!

  It’s Landon fucking Price, my least favorite person. Of course, it’s him. I mean, of all the people in the world, it had to be him, and he’s walking towards me. We used to be friends, but now I just try to avoid him at all costs.

  But right now Landon is walking towards me in the hallway of Pacific Day Medical School, like he is supposed to be here. He’s not.

  Landon is the perfect way to ruin any day for me. There is no one on this planet I don’t like the same way I don’t like Landon. I can’t find a single redeemable thing about him—something to hold on to and actually describe as an enjoyable personality trait. And I’ve tried to find something because he’s always around, but nope. Didn’t work.

  What in God’s name could he want?

  It’s been a long time since I’ve had an enjoyable conversation with him, but I know I can’t just run away because he’ll tell my father all about it and that would start a whole big mess I don’t want to deal with.

  Landon’s like a little lap dog— always doing what Papa King wants— not that I think my dad dispatched him here. I’m sure Landon suddenly popping up in my line of sight was all his own doing. He makes my skin crawl.

  I don’t think there was ever even a time when I liked Landon. He’s always been a total creep towards me, trying to ‘gain my favor.’ It’s never actually worked; I still don’t like him.

  The main problem is that he tries to use his relationship with my dad to worm his way into my heart— which just adds to the creep factor. That approach would never work.

  I mean, I want anyone I date to get along with my father, but Landon takes it way too far. I know he wants to marry me, but only because he wants my inheritance.

  But how much more money does he really need? He’s already sitting rather comfortably on what he has in the bank. I feel like it’s just greed, plain and simple. There’re just so many things wrong with his entire approach to ‘courting’ me. Come to think of it, there’re just so many things wrong with him in general.

  Also, it’s totally strange that he’s here at my school. I’ve known him to follow me around occasionally and it just makes me feel like he’s stalking me. Usually, he pops up somewhere else, not at my school— something I’d prefer to keep from happening. I mean, I don’t feel like I’m in any kind of danger, thankfully, but I really don’t like it.

  He approaches me with one hand stuck in the pocket of his tailored, gray suit. The other hand, he runs over his balding head. Currently he is trying a comb-over with his thin, blonde hair; it’s not working. His scalp is still clearly visible.

  I decide not to confront him about how annoying he is. I tried once to bring it up with both my dad and Landon, but my dad just ended up telling me I needed to get to know Landon better since he really is a good guy or whatever, so that was a bust. Now I just tell my dad less and, since Landon is a loyal reporter, trying to talk with him about it won’t work, either. He’s just a part of my life that I’ve had to get used to.

  “Savannah, it’s nice to see you here,” is the first thing Landon says to me.

  Well, I go to school here, so he shouldn’t sound so ‘pleasantly surprised.’ I know it’s an act. I could just rip his voice out if it would shut him up.

  I’m guessing he somewhat finessed running into me today. His generally dumb face is looking especially dumb to me right now, but that’s neither here nor there.

  I squash the sassy response I want to give him and, instead, ask, “What are you doing here?”

  I keep an edge to my voice, to communicate how little I actually want him in my presence.

  Landon just smiles, either not picking up on my hint, or, more likely, just ignoring it completely. He goes to touch my shoulder and it takes all of my willpower to not flinch.

  When his hand actually touches me, I feel an intense look of displeasure pass over my face. He likes to initiate intimacy when there is nothing there. I’ve learned to just let it happen and then scrub wherever he touched me later. It turns out that it’s easier that way.

  “I just had a bit of business to take care of,” he tells me.

  I don’t have an inkling of what Landon is talking about. He and my dad work together on a few ventures and I have heard nothing from my father about anything having to do with Pacific Day.

  While the two of us don’t always see eye to eye, my dad does like to keep me up to date on the business. He likes me to know where the money that funds my life comes from, which is something that I can appreciate.

  I may have grown up around the elite and the privileged, but I never really identified with that lifestyle. The lifestyle of excess. Landon, on the other hand— he’s greedy.

  “What kind of
business?” I finally ask him.

  I don’t really like talking to Landon, but my curiosity is getting the better of me. And, if my dad has anything to do with this, I’d also like to know that. Mainly, I’m interested in finding out if I’ll be seeing a whole lot of Landon here at the university. Maybe I’ll be able to avoid him whenever he’s on campus, if I can anticipate his visits.

  “A little something here, a little something there.”

  His response is so damn generic.

  I have a feeling that Landon has always thought of me as kind of dumb. Even though I’m in med school and on my way to becoming a doctor, apparently that doesn’t convince Landon of anything.

  That’s another reason why I don’t like him. He looks down on me. I’m just a stepping stone to him. A rung on the ladder to whatever kind of success he’s trying to achieve. His end game— I don’t know what it is— but I try not to let it concern me too much— only when he’s pushing himself into my life.

  “What’s a little something here, a little something there?” I ask, while crossing my arms in front of my chest, knocking his hold on my shoulder loose.

  “I don’t want to bore you with the details,” he responds.

  He finds a speck of dust on my top, a few inches from my breasts, and picks at it. His hand is too close for my comfort.

  I know by now that he’s not going to tell me a damn thing. I hate that I’m so disappointed by that fact, but I am.

  I don’t need Landon to like me, but it would be nice if he at least respected me. Maybe if he wasn’t such a big part of my dad’s business, I wouldn’t be so pressed about it.

  Also, his hand is still getting a little too comfortable near my chest. He starts to kind of rub the spot back and forth. It sends a shiver straight up my spine. I literally can’t take it any longer, and that’s when I shake off his hold and step out of his reach.

  “Well, I guess I better get going then.”

  I give him my grimmest frown.

  If he isn’t going to reveal whatever secret he’s holding onto, then I have zero reason to be talking to him.

  Landon doesn’t drop his smiley demeanor as I start walking down the hall. I’m sure he’s watching me go. I don’t want to think about it, and I refuse to look back.

  I wish my dad would just listen to me when I say I don’t like the guy. Dad’s always been on the ‘Landon and Savannah should get married’ train. I don’t know what Landon said to convince him. Probably nothing.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if it was all Father King’s idea. For some reason, he sees Landon as the son he never had. Marriage would be an easy way for him to have someone to pass the business onto and officially bring Landon into our family.

  Dad has never even considered me as a candidate to step into his shoes. I don’t know if I would have been into it— doing the kind of business my dad does— but we’ll never know, since there was no attempt to pass it over to me, no option given. I definitely don’t want to take over now, since I’m very much on the ‘Savannah is going to be a doctor’ train.

  I’m sure if Landon ever got his way and the two of us somehow ended up together, he would try to make me quit medical school. I don’t know if it’s pure misogyny or Landon’s way of trying to have total control or something else. Either way, I don’t like it and I don’t like him.

  I stop thinking about Landon and my relationship with my father because I have other stuff to worry about— like this test. Once I get into the classroom, I find a seat that I’ll be comfortable in. There’re only a couple of other people here and they’re all busy going over their notes.

  I take out my own and do a casual stroll through the review pages I made for myself. Everything looks comfortably familiar, so I’m feeling extremely good about this test. I’m kind of excited to show off just how much I understand this stuff— mainly to myself because I’m in a bit of a competition with… me.

  I like to do better each and every time, getting a higher grade with each passing test. I don’t always reach my goal, but I am doing pretty well.

  I might be going through this self-challenge because I’m also trying to show my dad that my going to medical school is worth it. Proving people wrong can become a bit of an obsession for me sometimes. It may not always be the healthiest of motivations, but I’ve gotten a lot done because of it.

  More people start to file in, and I put my notebook away. I’m done looking over it and I center myself before the actual test starts, making sure I won’t overthink and end up self-sabotaging.

  My worst enemy here is myself and I just need to remember that I know what I know. There may be things I don’t know and that will be fine. Just don’t freak out, I tell myself.

  There’s about another fifteen minutes or so before the teacher will be in. I go through my checklist— phone on airplane mode, plus pens, pencils, erasers and extra scratch paper on hand if needed— I’ve got everything I need.

  I do a short breathing exercise. Now all I can do is wait and hope I’m as prepared as I need to be— which I am, because I’m a kickass med school student. Or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself, while hoping I’ll believe it soon.

  Chapter Four

  Savannah

  Once I finish my exam, I sit back and decide to look over my answers. I add a bit more to some of my responses, but all in all, I’m satisfied with what I put down. The test ended up being a lot easier than anticipated— all my studying really paid off. I knew basically everything and what I couldn’t figure out, I was able to deduce.

  I finished a lot sooner than I thought I would. Finishing a test early usually makes me feel like I must have gotten a lot of things wrong, but, today, I’m not feeling any of that.

  I still don’t get up right away, though. I look around to see if anyone else has finished. It’s a bit high school of me— not wanting to be the first person to stand up and declare that I’m done— but I guess I’m self-conscious like that.

  No one else seems to be finished. All I see is a sea of downturned faces and furiously writing hands.

  I keep looking until my eyes fall on Robert Miller, who’s sitting next to me. I’m surprised he took that seat; Robert doesn’t seem to like me and usually he sits as far away from me as possible.

  Maybe he took it because it was one of the last ones open, and he was late.

  I don’t mean for them to, but my eyes get stuck on him. He really is a good-looking guy: dark brown hair, deep brown eyes and an incredible body with broad shoulders.

  Oddly, I’ve never seen him date anyone. Maybe he’s just busy with med school. I’m kind of in the same boat— I don’t really date much, either.

  Robert might have even less spare time than I do. He’s at Pacific Day University on a scholarship that I know comes with stipulations. I think he has a job, too.

  Given that my dad pays for everything, I don’t have to worry about money like he does. It’s really impressive that he manages his time so well.

  I’ve tried talking to him a few times— I always thought I was being nice— but he seems so cold, and I have no idea why. Hate may be too strong of a word, but he definitely does not like me.

  He hasn’t said anything particularly nasty or mean to me— I don’t think he’s the type of person that randomly yells at someone— it’s just that he’s very brusque and formal. He likes to give me one-word answers and he’s always looking anywhere but my eyes. I know I can’t make him like me, but… I don’t know. I’d like him to like me.

  I’ve tried to remember if I’d ever done anything to offend him. I don’t think I have. It feels as if from the first day I said hello to him, he’s been put off by me. It’s unfortunate because I did— and I still do— think he’s cute.

  I’m not saying I want to date him or something like that; I just— I don’t know. I guess I’m upset that I don’t know why he dislikes me so much.

  Sure, I’m a bit miffed that he seems to be the one straight guy on campus who doesn’t want to d
ate me. I won’t pretend that doesn’t hurt my ego a bit and confuse me even more. But it’s even more than that— he doesn’t have to want to date me, but why doesn’t he seem to even want to talk to me?

  He’d probably be a really good study buddy. He always does really well on the tests, and it would be nice to have more friends in the class. I don’t have the richest social life— ironic, I know. But I’ve been burned before by people who only care that I come from money, and I find it easier to protect myself. I’m rather shy, too— which some people confuse with being snobby.

  Robert must notice me staring, which I hadn’t realized I was doing, because he quickly turns his test to the side, making sure I can’t see it. I roll my eyes and laugh in my head, because I would ever cheat off him.

  I would never cheat in general. I don’t need to do anything like that in order to get through med school and I would never take a risk like that. Medical schools will throw you out without a second thought if you’re caught cheating and, even if I wasn’t caught, I’d just feel guilty about it.

  I guess it was a little weird that I was just looking at him, though. I can give him that. I don’t even know why I was staring at him with such an intensity. No wonder he thinks something’s up.

  I look down at my desk, so that I’m not looking at him anymore. I lazily stare at my test until I hear someone else moving around nearby.

  I look up to see my good friend Nicole, who’s on the other side of Robert, get up. I already knew her from before we both started med school, because her dad works with Landon and my dad. They gave her a good recommendation when she was applying.

  She walks over to my desk.

  “Do you want me to take up your test?” she asks.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I pick up my paper and give it to her. I think it’s really sweet of Nicole to ask; she must have noticed me just sitting there waiting for someone else to finish. It’s kind of a habit of mine.

  She and others have tried to convince me that no one cares about things like that, but I’m still irrationally stuck on it. I probably will be for a while. Because that’s just how I am.