Hate Notes: A Sweet Enemies to Lovers Young Adult Romance (Lakeview Prep Book 1)

by Gracie Graham

  Topher glanced away. His throat bobbed, and he picked at a blade of grass between his legs before his blue-violet eyes met mine again. “But, these last couple weeks, during these sessions, you’ve spoken your mind. You haven’t taken my crap, and we’ve talked. I swear before this week I thought you were mute.”

  I barked out a laugh, even though it really wasn’t funny.

  “What’s changed?” he asked.

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. It was a good question, one I didn’t have the answer to. Maybe I was just tired of sitting idly by while people tore me down. But even I had to admit there was something about having to face Topher one-on-one that finally allowed me to say my piece.

  “I don’t know,” I said, but a part of me wondered if it was that very first text I sent to him in the bathroom stall that liberated me. Like somehow, that gave me the courage I needed.

  “Well, I think you should speak up more often, let people get to know you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like you know me so well,” I said, even though he actually did. But he didn’t know that. The girl he thought he knew was Julie, not me.

  “I know enough to get that you’re super smart and funny. You know your Shakespeare,” he said, bumping me with his shoulder. “You have good taste in music, and you can be as good at dishing it out as you are at taking it.”

  I glanced down at my lap, hiding my grin. “Well, thanks.”

  “No thanks needed. It’s the truth.”

  I kept my gaze lowered as I asked, “Now can I ask you something?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing here,” he said, repeating my words from the other night.

  My stomach tightened, and I lifted my head, my eyes flickering to his. But his smile told me he knew nothing, and I chastised myself because that’s what lying did. It made you paranoid, and all it would take was one fly ball to get socked in the face.

  “You asked me why I don’t speak up. But why are you so different than you let on?”

  This time, it was he who glanced away. “What do you mean?” he asked, even though I had a feeling he knew exactly what I meant.

  “With your friends and Gabby. You act like a totally different person than when it’s just the two of us.” And when you talk to Julie.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” he said with a sigh.

  “Try me.”

  He leaned back on his hands and stared out into the courtyard, where the cross country track team warmed up. “It’s just that when you’re in the spotlight all the time, people make assumptions about you. They think they know you, and before you even realize what’s happening, you become the version of yourself they expect you to be, instead of the one you really are. Even if you change. Even if you’re different and you’re no longer that guy.”

  “So why not be you instead of the version of you everyone has come to expect?”

  Topher’s lips turned up into a sorry excuse for a smile. “Because when you’re up here,” he said, turning back and raising his hand above his head, “you have a lot further to fall.”

  I wondered how lonely it was to be surrounded by a ton of people, but not really have any friends. Suddenly, I knew what he meant when he told Julie no one really knew him. At the time, I’d been skeptical. I thought he was just being dramatic or trying to make her feel something for him. Or get her to go out with him.

  But now . . .

  Without thinking, I reached out to him and took his hand in mine. I gave it a little squeeze, if only to let him know I understood. A smile graced his perfectly full lips, and when he turned my hand over and brushed a thumb over the back of my fingers, my breath caught.

  “Your polish. It’s pink today.”

  I blinked, lost in the electric sensation from his touch. “What?”

  “It’s pink.” He smoothed a finger over a nail before he gave me my hand back, and I could focus on what he was saying. “The first day of school it was black, and yesterday, I’m almost certain it was a different color. Do most girls paint them that often?”

  I glanced down at my hands, then placed them in my lap, shocked that he noticed such a minor detail, rendering me mute.

  He raised both brows in question when I didn’t answer.

  “Uh. It’s just . . . I change the color depending on my mood.”

  “Like a human mood ring.”

  A hiss of air escaped my parted lips. “Yeah, exactly like that.”

  “And what does pink mean? What kind of mood are you in today?”

  I glanced away from him to the cross country kids who were doing some kind of drill in front of us. “I don’t know. It’s silly. It’s not like it really means anything,” I said, feeling my entire body flush.

  “Well, I happen to think that’s pretty cool.”

  “Really?” I peeked up at him.

  “Really,” he said, but in the next breath, he grabbed his bookbag and stood. “I’d better get going. We have a late practice today.”

  “Oh,” I said, sounding dejected.

  I resented that he had to go, but then he turned and asked, “Hey, have you ever gone to a water polo game?”

  Chapter 17

  TOPHER

  “Elliot!” Coach Paul’s voice echoed in the pool room.

  My teammates scattered from the deck, heading for the locker room while I toweled off, waiting for the ass-chewing I was sure to receive after such a shitty practice.

  Slinging the towel around my neck, I straightened and gripped the ends like a lifeline. “Yes, sir?”

  Coach paused in front of me, a scowl on his face and a clipboard in one hand. He tapped the underside of his ballcap with his fingers, pushing it up off his head slightly before crossing his arms over his chest.

  “What was that today?” he asked, nodding toward the pool.

  “Sorry, I . . . just had a lot on my mind.”

  He stared at me, meeting my eyes while his jaw twitched. “You decide on that Bucknell meeting yet?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, what you waiting for?”

  “My father wants me to—”

  “I don’t give a rat’s behind about your father. What do you want, Elliot?”

  My conversations with Julie and Penelope came back to me, and all at once, I realized what an idiot I’ve been to throw away such an amazing opportunity.

  “I want to go to Bucknell, sir.”

  “Then what exactly are you waiting for, son? Do you want me to set up the meeting or not?”

  I swallowed, knowing if I said yes, it was going against my father’s wishes.

  Screw my father. When did he ever care about what I wanted? What about my happiness?

  “Yes, sir. I’d like that.”

  He nodded like I’d made the right choice. “Good. Consider it done.” Then he turned on his heel and pointed back at me with his clipboard and said, “Play like that again in my pool, and I’ll make you tread water until your limbs fall off. You got me?”

  I grinned, glancing down at my feet. “I got you.”

  I headed into the locker room where half of the guys were already dressed, and I began to change, intent on texting Julie and asking her to my game Saturday. I’d been hoping she and Penelope could meet, and though P said she was busy, I still hoped she’d change her mind. Something told me they’d hit it off, because even though Penelope had Scarlett, it would be kind of cool if she and Julie could be friends too. Maybe then, we could all hang out sometime. After all, Penelope could use someone like Julie. Both girls seemed to know exactly who they were—something I admired—but Julie had the confidence Penelope lacked, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope that maybe it would rub off on her.

  Once I dressed, I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder and clutched my phone as I typed and headed for the door.

  Me: How’s my girl?

  Julie: If you’re referring to me, I’m good.

  A smile split my face in two.

  Me: I have a request, but first, you have t
o say yes.

  Julie: Um, I’m pretty sure that’s the kind of request that can get a girl in trouble.

  I chuckled to myself as I palmed the door to the locker room and headed outside.

  Me: How about, if it’s a reasonable request, you have to say yes.

  Julie: Define reasonable.

  Topher: You’re tough.

  Julie: I’ll take that as a compliment.

  Me: Come to my game Saturday. I’ll take you out afterward.

  There was a long pause. Then the typing dots appeared on the screen before they vanished again.

  I braced myself. Maybe at some point, Julie had decided she wasn’t that into me, and she was trying to think of a way to let me down easy. Maybe between the time I stood her up and she sent me that angry text, she got a boyfriend. After all, I had never actually outright asked her if she had one, had I?

  Maybe I was just wasting my time.

  Maybe . . .

  My phone dinged.

  Julie: Okay, yes.

  Chapter 18

  PENELOPE

  Italian was the theme of the day, which meant the cafeteria smelled of garlic and cheese. The line moved slower than normal due to its popularity, so Scarlett opted for a sandwich off the a la carte section before we took our usual seats.

  A cacophony of laughter shot through the room, rising above the chatter, and my gaze reflexively shifted toward the lounge area to see all of the royal court except Topher.

  I opened my lunch bag and pulled out my yogurt when a tray plopped down on the table beside me with a loud clatter.

  I jumped in my seat, then turned to see Topher, both hands on the side of his tray as he leaned over it.

  “Scarlett, right?” he said, with a nod in her direction.

  “Um, yeah.”

  “Cool.”

  He stared at her like he expected something from her, which was the wrong thing. Scarlett leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, nodding toward the lounge. “Did you get lost on your way to your station or something?”

  “What?” Topher blinked. “No. I just . . .”

  I cleared my throat and shot Scarlett a glare before I tipped my head back up to him. “What’s up?”

  The crease between his brows eased as our eyes met. “I just stopped to see if you changed your mind. About the game Saturday?”

  “Oh, uh, no. Sorry. I think I have to watch my sister, so I can’t make it.”

  Scarlett’s gaze drilled into the side of my face. I hadn’t mentioned his invitation to his game, mostly because I didn’t want to listen to her go on for an hour about how I was starting to fall for him. And especially not because the last thing I wanted was to hear how it would likely end in disaster.

  So, I ignored her knife-like gaze and took a sip of my water to busy myself.

  “That’s too bad. There’s going to be someone there I was hoping you could meet. I think you’d really like her.”

  My thoughts flashed to Julie, and I choked, coughing on my water. I still hadn’t really figured out an end-game where Julie was concerned and had only accepted his invite yesterday out of a moment of weakness.

  I couldn’t actually go, could I?

  I spluttered some more, wheezing in an effort to catch my breath while Topher frowned beside me and smacked me in the back a few times until I finally cleared my windpipe long enough to speak. “Sorry. Wrong tube,” I wheezed. “But, yeah. Maybe I can make it next time.”

  “Dang, that’s too bad.”

  “Is it? Who is this mystery person you wanted P to meet?” Scarlett asked, pursing her lips.

  Someone yelled Topher’s name from the other end of the room, and he glanced up at them, straightening a little. “Uh, this chick I’ve been talking to, Julie. She’s pretty dope. I just thought you guys would hit it off. That it’d be cool if you were friends.”

  “Friends,” Scarlett repeated with a smirk.

  “Yeah, but no biggie. Maybe some other time?” he asked me as Luca called him again.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He lifted his tray and headed toward the lounge. “See you Monday?” he called behind him.

  “Yup, Monday,” I murmured to his back as he walked away.

  The moment he disappeared out of ear-shot, I turned to Scarlett, whose eyes threatened to slice through me like a laser beam. “What?” I asked, the picture of innocence. Because if there was any chance I could avoid the conversation we were about to have, I was taking it.

  “There’s going to be someone there I was hoping you could meet. I think you’d really like her,” Scarlett mocked, then added, “Yeah, because she’s you. First, Julie didn’t actually agree to go to his game, did she? And second, how are you not chomping on the bit to make a fool of him over this? It’s everything you ever wanted. It sounds like he’s actually falling for Julie, WHO IS REALLY YOU!”

  “Shhh,” I hissed, glancing around us to ensure no one heard. “I realize who Julie is,” I snapped. “And why is it so crazy if I said yes to going to the game?”

  “Um, because you’re you, and you can’t go without him finding out you’re also Julie. Duh.”

  I sighed. “Would it be so bad if he found out?”

  “Well, it would certainly blow your cover. Is Operation Dirt Retrieval completely off, then?”

  "No.” I paused. “I don’t know.”

  “Well you better figure it out because once your cover is blown, there’s no going back. This is your one shot to get back at the Royals for years of torture. Don’t blow it just because you have googly eyes for the king.”

  I scowled. “I don’t have googly eyes.”

  “Mmhm.” She glanced toward the lounge, and I followed her gaze.

  Topher sat with JT, Mikey, Luca, and a gaggle of girls, including Gabby, who was practically sitting on his lap, laughing and running her fingers through his hair.

  I understood why she’d be skeptical. Even I still wondered whether the different version of him I’d seen these last couple weeks was all for show.

  But then, Scarlett didn’t know him like I did.

  “Go with me,” I blurted.

  “As much as I’d love to watch some man candy playing with their balls in a pool, I can’t. I help at the bakery all weekend.”

  “Ugh, again?”

  “Trust me, I’ve had my fill of selling overpriced pastries and coffee to all the Lakeview housewives. Did you know Luca’s mom came in last weekend at, like, six a.m. and had me put the blueberry muffins she bought in her fancy crystal cake stand?”

  I frowned. “Why wouldn’t she just do it herself when she got home?”

  “Because she said her husband would find the evidence she bought them. God forbid he find our box in the trashcan. She probably puts a dirty bowl in the sink for effect.”

  “Weird.”

  “Very.”

  My gaze drifted to the Royal table once more, thinking of how different they were from us. How everything with them was about their image and being perfect, and it was as if Scarlett read my thoughts. “Just remember,” she said, picking at her food, “he may seem different, but actions speak louder than words, and from where I’m sitting, once a king, always a king.”

  TOPHER

  I scanned the bleachers starting to fill up, and even though it was early and my game hadn’t started yet, there was no sign of Julie. Although, truth be told, I only had a vague recollection of what she looked like. Blond and tall, with a pretty smile was the image she conjured, so it had been partly strategic to find out what she’d be wearing. Seeing as how I was trying to change her mind about me, the last thing I wanted to do was have her come and be unable to pick her out of the crowd.

  I paused my search for a moment when I noticed Gabby and Xia. They sat at the back of the bleachers, sunglasses propped on the top of their heads, and when they waved to me, I offered a curt nod. So far, Gabby and I were still “off,” and I’d like to keep it that way.

  Mom caught my eye and beckoned me ove
r from her perch in the front row, so I jogged toward her, accepting the sports drink she handed me even though I didn’t really need it. Dad sat beside her, sunglasses shielding his eyes, looking stiff in khakis and a gold shirt.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, and my mother followed my gaze to the back of the stands.

  “Are you looking for someone?” she asked. “I saw Gabby and Xia over there.” She nodded in their direction, but I didn’t look.

  “Uh, yeah. No. Just . . . nothing,” I said, then proceeded with some arm stretches to warm my shoulders up when Coach came up beside me and clapped me on the back.

  “You must be proud,” Coach said, a smile touching the corners of his lips. “Scholarships for water polo are rare, so I was glad when Topher decided to take that meeting.”

  Dad cocked his head, and my stomach clenched.

  “Meeting?” he asked.

  Coach’s smile slipped. His eyes darted toward me, then back again as he nodded. “The one with Bucknell.”

  “Is that so?” Dad turned toward me, and behind the reflective lenses of his Ray-Bans, I felt his knife-like gaze on mine.

  Coach shot me an accusatory look while sweat pricked the back of my neck. “He didn’t mention it to you?”

  “Oh, he mentioned it,” my father clasped his hands casually around one knee while my mother glanced between us, her brow creased with worry, “and I thought we had an understanding, but I must’ve been mistaken.”

  The scoreboard buzzed, echoing through the stadium and slicing through the tension. Grateful for the interruption, I exhaled as Coach nodded toward the team huddle. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, with a meaningful glance in my direction. “Looks like the game’s about to start.” Then he hurried off.

  I cleared my throat, trying to find a graceful exit when my father said, “This conversation isn’t over.”

  “I look forward to it,” I said like a smart-ass because his words needled under my skin. Then I turned on my heel and headed toward the huddle, my eyes on the stand the entire way as I searched the familiar faces for Julie. And though I knew it was stupid, I couldn’t help but feel like if she showed, it would give me the courage I needed to stand up to my father, and everything would be okay.