Confessions of a Hater
Page 31
Holy crap, no, that was not something I knew. No wonder he was so cool. You learn something new every day.
I left his office flying sky high. As risky as painting that mural was, it was one of those risks you just have to take sometimes. I followed my heart, and you know what? I couldn’t be happier I did.
It was funny how all along I thought that the popularity of the Invisibles was because of the diary. The magical mystical diary … filled with all of my sister’s secrets. But none of that was true. Everyone was drawn to me for who I was. I never should have worried about the popular kids, because I would have been popular on my own terms anyway. (If only it had said anything about that in the diary. Guess it serves me right for reading someone else’s diary, though. Especially an unfinished one.)
As far as my parents were concerned … things were still pretty messy. That wasn’t gonna get wrapped up like an ABC Family movie where we all lived happily ever after. My dad had gone from cheating on my mom to having a full-on relationship with this other woman. My mom was considering moving back to Westchester, and although it looked like I could stay here, it would be incredibly weird not to live with my mom anymore … much less to have to live with my dad … much less live with this evil nympho Crystal … much less live with her demon seed child, effing Skyler.
And oh, yes, Skyler. There was a panel in my mural for Skyler, but it wasn’t what you might expect. There was no hate in it. It was just a panel of a girl who looked gorgeous, dressed to the nines. Another girl complimented her on her ensemble, and the proxy Skyler’s response was “Thank you so much! I really appreciate it!”
Had I ever heard those words come out of Skyler’s mouth? Hell no. Had I considered that “thank you” were two words that had never even been uttered from her mouth? Absolutely. But I decided to give my faux Skyler the benefit of the doubt. And as I tried to take a more mature perspective on things, I tried to keep some things in mind: For all of her money and material goods, it did sound like Skyler had a kinda fucked-up childhood, and I wasn’t exactly confident the presence of my dog of a dad would make that any better. Also, as shitty as Skyler was to me and my friends, she’d had a couple of chances to really drop the hammer on us, and for whatever reason, she didn’t. It might all still be part of her evil plan … who knows?
Who knows, I thought. Well, maybe I should try to find out.
Now this was a definite Hailey 2.0 move. It was time to talk to Skyler. There was no way in hell we were going to become best friends—other than her fashion sense, I pretty much hated everything about her—but one day in the hallway, I asked her to meet me at the Coffee Bean for some Iced Blendeds and a peace talk. To my amazement, she agreed.
I got there first. It was on the corner of Sunset and Fairfax, and there were a ton of cooler-than-you people hanging out on the deck outside, writing their screenplays, hoping to be discovered, looking around to see if there was anyone they might want to ask out on a date. And then there was me. Waiting on my mortal enemy. Hoping a sugary beverage would be a step in the right direction toward not making life miserable for each other next year too.
Skyler walked up wearing dark-blue J Brand skinny jeans, a gray cashmere hoodie and black sparkly Tom’s shoes. She turned a few heads, of course, and she reveled in the attention. I was just wearing an old hippie-ish dress, a denim jacket and Noel’s boots. Still, my outfit was cute. I had my own style. Name brands aren’t always cooler. Sometimes vintage wins.
“Does it ever make you uncomfortable the way people always look at you?” I asked as she sat down.
“I’m used to it,” she said. “It will make me uncomfortable when they stop.”
I took her point, but that kind of existence was still so foreign to me.
“So,” she said. “What’s up … sis?”
It was a shot, sort of, but she didn’t seem mean about it. It was just an acknowledgment of how fucking weird this was, our own little “Luke, I am your father” moment.
“You don’t beat around the bush,” I said.
“Have I ever?”
“No, I guess not,” I said. “So, look … I’m not expecting miracles here. But as much as I think we’d both be happy to just go our separate ways and move on with our lives—at least I would—our parents are dating. And as much as that grosses me out and as much as I feel like your mom stole my dad from my mom—”
“Stole, huh?” Skyler interrupted. “Hailey, you’re not thinking of my mom. She doesn’t steal anything. You’re thinking of your girlfriend, whatever her name is. The one who can remove a security tag in five seconds blindfolded.”
Wow, she’s good, I thought.
“Anyway, they were having a relationship before you even moved out here,” Skyler said. “I think that’s part of why you moved in the first place.”
I felt my insides churn. Another deceit from Dad. “I didn’t know that.”
“Sorry to break it to you,” she said.
“Skyler, when did you know? I mean, I just found out. All this time, all the shit between me and you—and it turns out my dad was seeing your mom? All this time?”
Skyler smiled. Apparently she still couldn’t help but enjoy having the upper hand.
“Well, Hailey,” she said, “I don’t really pay that much attention to who my mom sees. It’s honestly rather hard to keep count. Your dad’s not the first and—you actually might appreciate this part—I’d be shocked if he were the last. So let’s just say I found out at one point and leave it at that.”
“My dad seems to think they’re in love.”
Skyler laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Well, I bet he is. She loves some things, but nothing with a heartbeat.”
I didn’t even know what to say to that, so I moved on: “Fine. I just think we should try to come to some sort of understanding. A real one, not like before. A real truce. So we don’t spend every waking hour trying to destroy each other.”
“Hmm,” she said. “But how do I know I can trust you? How do I know my face isn’t going to end up on some farm animal next fall?”
“You don’t,” I said. “And I don’t know that I can trust you. That’s where the leap-of-faith part comes in.”
She sighed. “I don’t like your friends.”
That was sort of a tell. As if she were acquiescing to my truce but making it clear that she wouldn’t be friends with any of the Invisibles—heaven forbid she lower herself that far.
“You don’t have to like my friends,” I said. “They’re my friends. They sure as hell don’t like you. And you don’t have to like me. I’m just saying maybe we don’t do a repeat of the past few months again.”
“I did like you, once,” Skyler said.
“As well you should have,” I said. “You don’t get to be that popular without having good taste.”
She smiled. “Don’t get too cocky, Hailey.”
“Learned from the master,” I replied.
She held up her Iced Blended for a cheers—talk about a moment I’m sure neither of us saw coming—and I held mine up to join hers. We had a truce, albeit an incredibly fragile one, one where neither side really trusts the other, but that’s probably true of most truces, right?
They say nothing brings two people together like a common enemy, but they never quite tell you what brings two common enemies together.
I guessed only time would tell.
CAPRICE CRANE is the author of several novels for adults, including Stupid and Contagious, Forget About It, Family Affair, and With a Little Luck. She was born in Hollywood, but don’t hold that against her. She doesn’t go wandering around with a tiny dog in her purse. Her mother, renowned film, television, and stage actress Tina Louise, is best known as Ginger Grant from the beloved sitcom Gilligan’s Island. Her father is former talk-show host and Grammy winner Les Crane. Caprice has worked for MTV Networks as a writer and producer, and has been a music supervisor for film and TV. Her screenwriting credits include 90210 (the new version) and the movie Love, Wedding, Marr
iage, starring Mandy Moore and Kellan Lutz. She lives in Los Angeles and New York City.
A FEIWEL AND FRIENDS BOOK
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CONFESSIONS OF A HATER. Copyright © 2013 by Caprice Crane. All rights reserved. For information, address Feiwel and Friends, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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ISBN: 978-1-250-00846-6 (hardcover)/978-1-250-00847-3 (ebook)
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First Edition: 2013
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