The Boy I Hate

by Taylor Sullivan

  Her best friend’s face was puffy and streaked with tears, yet she didn’t say a word. She just stood there, silently blinking as Samantha tried to come up with an excuse as to why she was coming out of Tristan’s bathroom. But there was none. Because whatever this was, it was out in the open now. There was no hiding it, no wishing it away, no backing up and hoping for a do-over.

  Renee had found her in her brother’s room, and the expression on her face was one of complete betrayal. Renee closed her eyes, shutting everyone out as she tightened her fists at her sides. Samantha could only look at her, her friend’s veins visibly pulsing at every pressure point.

  Renee parted her lips, and mouthed the word. “Why?”

  Samantha covered her lips, shaking her head as she took a step forward.

  But Renee only retreated, gasping in gulps of air that sounded like sobs. “How could you do this?” she asked. “How could you do this?”

  Then she ran from the room, leaving the door open, and Samantha fell to her knees in the middle of the doorway. She looked over at Tristan, who was sitting on the side of the bed, his body only covered by the sweats she was sure he’d put on to answer the door.

  “Why was she here?” she whispered. “Did Mark tell—”

  But he shook his head, cutting her off before she could finish. “Mom showed up this morning… Dad wasn’t with her.”

  Tears stung behind Samantha’s eyes and capped her hand over her mouth. “No. No no no.” Because after finding her mother… “She came here,” she whispered, choking on the words. “And she found us.”

  It wasn’t a question; it was a fact. Because her friend who thought about everyone else before she thought about herself, had just found out that her father had been cheating on her mother. And when she’d come to talk to her brother about it, found her best friend practically naked in his room.

  “I should go after her,” Samantha whispered. “Explain.”

  Tristan only pushed his hand through his hair and shook his head. “Give her a minute.”

  Her throat was so tight she could barely breathe, but she nodded her head. He was right. Renee would need time after something like this. She would need time, and Samantha needed to be strong enough to give it to her. “We shouldn’t have been so reckless. I shouldn’t have—”

  But Tristan rose to his feet. He stopped in front of her, pulled her to stand, and wrapped his arms around her body. She pressed her face into his chest and held onto him. She swallowed hard, fighting back tears that threatened to choke her “You were right. I should have told her.”

  But he remained silent. Not saying he told her so, not yelling like she knew she would have done, had the roles been reversed.

  “My mom is down in the lobby,” he said after a pause. “She’s a mess.” His eyes met hers again, and she could see the wounded boy she met all those days ago when he told her about his father. The boy who was protective, hurt, and so vulnerable. “Will you be okay without me?”

  Samantha almost sobbed, but stepped away, already feeling guilty for keeping him this long. “Go. I’ll catch up with you at the rehearsal.”

  He traced the rim of her lips with his finger, then leaned in close. His mouth hovered over hers, but didn’t kiss. “It will be okay,” he finally whispered, but they were words not meant for her. They were words meant for himself.

  She grabbed hold of his neck, and kissed him with all her strength. As though wanting to heal all his wounds, wanting to take away his pain—but she knew she couldn’t. This was something she couldn’t take away, and she could only love him through it.

  He took her hands from behind his neck as he broke their kiss, then paused for a minute before he walked into the bathroom to shower. She waited for the shower to run, then gathered the rest of her things and slipped out to the hall in the romper she’d worn the night before.

  “Do not disturb” signs graced almost every door as she made her way back to her room. Trays with silver domes were left outside almost every door, waiting to be picked up—and although the same blue sign hung on her best friend’s door, she couldn’t keep herself from knocking. Her fingers rested on the hard surface, waiting for the answer, but one never came. She dropped her forehead down to the surface, feeling a knot form in her stomach. Because she needed her friend to know the truth. She needed her to know that Tristan wasn’t just a fling to her. He was the man she’d been waiting for her entire life.

  And she was falling in love with him.

  The rest of the afternoon went by without a word from either Tristan or Renee. She knew they were busy, but having not talked to anyone left her with a million butterflies swarming inside her stomach and chest. She opened the door to the ballroom, where everyone was already waiting inside, standing around, chatting, and sitting in chairs that tomorrow would be filled with the audience. Because in less than twenty-four hours, her best friend would be a bride.

  Samantha glanced around the room, finding Mark, Devon, and the rest of the wedding party flanking the side of the wooden arbor. She walked toward them, wanting to take her place at the head of the bridal party, but noticed they all had weird looks on their faces.

  She turned around and found Tristan in the corner of the room, his ear to his phone, not looking happy. She swallowed apprehensively, noticing Mrs. Montgomery sitting in one of the seats, crying. Renee was by her side, and she instantly realized Mr. Montgomery still wasn’t there.

  The wedding coordinator was standing at the top of the stairs by the arbor, and immediately urged Samantha forward. The woman positioned Samantha at the top of the line and adjusted her shoulders out toward the audience before looking over at Mark and Devon. “What’s going on?” the woman mouthed, but they both shook their heads as though not knowing at all what to say.

  Samantha’s heart pinched in her chest, both tense and breaking at the same time. How could Mr. Montgomery not be here? How could he leave his family like this? His daughter?

  The door to the ballroom opened, and everyone turned around, hopeful sighs released from their lips.

  Samantha glanced up, saying a silent prayer that it was Mr. Montgomery, only to find Steven standing in the doorway. He made a face as though apologizing for interrupting, then walked into the room, wearing the pinstriped blue suit she’d picked out with him before he had interviewed with Connor and Associates.

  The walls seemed to close in around her all at once, and she looked over at Tristan. He was still deep in conversation and hadn’t noticed Steven yet.

  Steven continued toward her, seemingly clueless about the tension in the room as he walked up the steps. “Surprise!” he whispered, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

  Samantha stepped backward, almost crashing into one of the other bridesmaids. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, but all the blood had left her body, and she thought she might faint. She glanced around the room to Mark, Renee, and Tristan, and discovered all their eyes were on her.

  Steven moved in closer, narrowing his gaze just bit as he looked into her eyes “I left work for you. I thought you’d be happy.”

  She shook her head, her throat so tight it was almost suffocating. “Didn’t you get my text?”

  His eyes narrowed and he adjusted his stance. “What text?” he whispered back.

  Tristan swore under his breath, but before she could turn around, he was already walking out of the room. Her heart constricted with pain and guilt, but she turned back to Steven.

  Everyone was watching. Renee’s family, friends, Phin. But there was so much confusion in Steven’s eyes, so much hurt and pain that Samantha knew she was causing. She blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was telling her. Her mind flashed back to the moment he told her he wasn’t coming. To her sending the text. She had sent it right there in front of Tristan—and then she had fallen into the pool.

  She covered her mouth, realizing what must’ve happened. The text didn’t go through before her phone had died. Steven had no
idea she’d broken up with him.

  Tears gathered behind her eyes, burning her nose and throat. Steven may not be perfect, and not be the most considerate at times, but he’d been one of her best friends for most of her life.

  “Can I talk to you privately?” she whispered, barely able to keep her voice from quivering to get out the words.

  She walked down the steps, hearing whispers of disapproval as she exited the ballroom, but she had to do this. He had to be told what was going on. She found a private alcove in the garden ten yards away, where she sat down on a bench and waited for Steven to join her.

  He sat down a moment later, an element of confusion causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle. She swallowed, seeing all over again the twelve-year-old boy who had opened the door for her every day of sixth grade. But now his face was pale where normally golden, his eyes lifeless where normally smiling. She took his hands between hers and closed her eyes.

  “Steven—” She choked. Because she knew she was about to hurt him. She knew she was about to hurt him so much.

  He got down to his knees in front of her, causing her stomach to clench and her eyes to open. “What is it, Sam? What happened?”

  She shook her head, her lashes heavy with tears. “I broke up with you, Steven. I broke up with you three days ago.”

  “I don’t understand. Sam—”

  “I sent you a text. I thought you knew. But I dropped my phone in the water, and the message must have not gone through. I thought—”

  He pulled in a breath, and licked his lips as he searched her face. “Because of the job? Is that why?”

  “No.” She cut him off, needing to stop any further speculation. “This isn’t working, Steven. It hasn’t been working for a long time.” The truth was heartbreaking, something she should have said years ago, but she’d been too much of a coward. “We’ve been friends for so long, the best of friends…” She expected him to protest, to try to stop her, but he only looked at her, his face pained but no longer confused.

  “I know,” he whispered.

  She choked on a sob, muffling the sound with her hand. Because in all of her life, she would never have expected this response. In all her dreams, she should have never expected him to understand.

  He closed his eyes, visibly snuffing out his own emotion. “Expecting you to follow me in my career was like caging a wild bird.” He opened his eyes and looked directly into hers, as though seeing her for the first time. “I couldn’t bear to let you go, and that was selfish. Keeping you by my side was what I always wanted, but that doesn’t mean it was right.”

  Her nose began to burn, but she let the tears come. Because a long time ago, her mother had told her never to apologize for being emotional. To never feel weak because of shed tear, because showing your heart was a sign of strength. For the first time, she wasn’t ashamed of them. For the first time she knew exactly what her mother meant.

  A couple of people were standing outside now, gawking at them in a way that made her feel protective. She adjusted her back, blocking their view of Steven, and took his hands. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve never broken up with you in such a careless way. I should have—”

  But he shook his head, stopping her. “Don’t.”

  Tears were flowing from her eyes, and she brushed them away with her fingers. For all his faults, there was so much good in him. He just wasn’t want she needed. “I’ve always loved you; I need you to know that. Just not in the way you wanted me to.”

  He sat down beside her again, leaning against her, offering his shoulder for her to cry on. “I think I’ve always known that. I hoped it would be different, but…” His words trailed off, and they both sat in silence for a minute before he continued. “I held on too long, even when I knew we were both going in different directions. My only hope is that it’s not too late to be friends.”

  She turned into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Of course we can. Always.”

  They stayed there, just like that, for a good twenty minutes. With his arm wrapped around her, them both mourning the end of their relationship, before he finally called a Taxi to head back to the airport. Because even though they were not each other’s future, they were each other’s past. A past filled with memories, laughter, and friendship. And that was hard to let go of, for anyone.

  29

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  It was almost evening when Samantha knocked on the door of Renee’s hotel room. A mixture of sorrow, regret, and nausea rolled in her stomach as she glanced down to her phone. She’d been trying to get hold of Tristan all afternoon, to explain what happened, but he still hadn’t answered any of her texts. Hadn’t answered her phone calls, or even his door when she’d gone there earlier. His message was clear: he didn’t want to talk to her, and there was a part of her that didn’t blame him.

  The door opened, and Samantha quickly put her phone away as she looked up to her best friend. Renee stood in the doorway, her eyes puffy and swollen, making Samantha’s heart clench even harder. “Is he here?”

  Renee only glanced up and down, taking in the tattered shorts Samantha had changed back into after the rehearsal, and turned to head back into the room. “Nope.” But she left the door open, which was the only invitation Samantha needed to walk into the room.

  Samantha twisted her fingers as she following the trail of tissues into Renee’s bedroom, where she found her buried deep under a pile of blankets in the dark, lonely bed. The Notebook was playing on the television, and Samantha crawled in beside her and rested her head on the top of Renee’s shoulder.

  She pulled in a shaky breath, realizing she should be the shoulder to cry on, the arms of support at a time like this. Instead, she was the bearer of deceit, the one to cause her best friend to crumble.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking with each word. It was a feeble effort to make things right, but it was all she could muster at the moment.

  Renee squeezed her eyes shut, struggling with her own emotions as she pulled a tissue from the box. “My father isn’t coming. Tristan will be walking me down the aisle.”

  Samantha suspected as much, but it was still heartbreaking to hear it from her best friend’s lips. She handed Renee a tissue. Because she knew the hopes and dreams Renee had always carried. She knew about Renee’s dream of a fairy tale wedding, which always included her father walking her down the aisle in every one.

  Renee blotted her eyes, turning toward Samantha to search her face. But she didn’t look angry, she looked heartbroken.

  “Everyone thinks he’s unbreakable, but he’s not.”

  Samantha nodded, her chin beginning to quiver as she tried to pull herself together—because she knew Renee was talking about Tristan. Unbreakable Montgomery. The Rock of West Valley high school.

  “I went to his room, but he wasn’t there. I’ve tried calling—” But her words came out on a sob, and she couldn’t finish.

  Renee threw the covers from her body, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she yelled. “Why is everyone keeping secrets from me?” She stood at the side of the bed, her hair was an unbrushed mess, and Samantha had no idea what to tell her.

  She pulled up to her knees, trying to come up with something to say. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I should have said something, but it was your wedding, your big day, and I didn’t want to take anything away from you.”

  Renee spun around. “That’s bullshit!” she yelled, gripping the balled-up tissue in her fist.

  Samantha turned toward the darkened window, trying without success to pull herself together. “You’re right.” She choked. “I didn’t tell you because I was scared. I didn’t tell you for a lot of reasons… Because my feelings were so big. Because it was all happening so fast.”

  “You think I can’t handle big? I’m a fucking adult, Sam. Things happen. Don’t you think I know that?”

  Samantha swallowed and looked back to her friend. “I didn’t w
ant to share it, Ren. Not even with you. Because sharing things with you always makes them real.” It was the honest to God truth. The completely selfish truth of a girl who didn’t trust her own heart. She took another tissue from the box, her shoulders shaking. Then she felt Renee move beside her on the bed, smoothing the hair from her eyes and cheeks.

  Samantha looked up, tears rolling down her face.

  “Do you love him?” Renee whispered, her face just as tear-streaked as Samantha’s.

  She didn’t hesitate before answering, because she wanted the words spoken more than anything. “Yes. I love him. I love him so much.”

  Renee pulled her into her arms, and they both collapsed into each other’s embrace. “Then you have to tell him.”

  Samantha’s words were barely audible as she nodded her head. “I know.”

  30

  Chapter Thirty

  The next morning went by in a blur. There were hair appointments, nail appointments, and makeup from the moment she opened her eyes. And Tristan was still nowhere to be found. She was sure he was with the guys, doing all the wedding things he was supposed to, but the fact that she hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the rehearsal left her stomach in knots.

  She stood on the step, waiting for her best friend to walk down the aisle, and glanced over the crowd of people, knowing they waited with bated breath, just as she did. But for a different reason. Because they were waiting for their bride, her best friend for all eternity, while she was waiting for Tristan.

  The door opened at the back of the room, and the crowd turned and rose out of their chairs. Renee stood at the open doorway, the “Bridal Chorus” playing softly from the piano in the background. Her dress was off-white, with a lace bodice and delicate sleeves that hung off her shoulders like lace ivy. Her head was high, her skirt simple, draping elegantly all the way to the floor—showing bits of her long legs as she took step after step.