Love Me, Love Me Not (Incongruent Figures #1)

by S. M. Koz

  I’m not sure why Dad overreacted so much when he found us. We weren’t even kissing. She was sitting on my lap and we were talking. Yes, my shirt was unbuttoned, but I walk around here shirtless all the time. It’s not a huge deal. Okay, her hand was halfway down my pants, but he couldn’t see that from the stairs.

  I toss the ball again, but soon lose interest in the game. Hitting the crack used to be a challenge; now I get it with every toss. I pick up my phone and start to text Adam when Dad walks in.

  “Hey,” I say, putting it down, then lower the music.

  “Hey.” He sits on the edge of my bed and faces me. “Do you know why I’m upset?”

  “Honestly, no. All we did was kiss a little. I’m eighteen. If you think I shouldn’t be kissing at eighteen, then you’re seriously delusional.”

  “Of course you should be kissing. Hell, at your age, you should be doing more than kissing.” He runs his hand over his face and continues, “Your mom and I often worry you’re so focused on academics and football that you’re missing out on a lot of other important teenage milestones. Like a girlfriend.”

  I raise my eyebrows, wondering where he’s going with this and why he freaked out downstairs if he truly feels this way.

  “The problem is Hailey can’t be that person.”

  Just like that, my blood pressure spikes through the roof. I never thought I’d have to stand up for her against my parents. I thought they were better than this.

  “That’s the shittiest thing you’ve ever said,” I growl. “I don’t care about her past, or where she’s from, or stupid materialistic things. She’s an amazing person and if you can’t see that then you’re not the person I thought you were.”

  He holds up his hands in front of himself, like he’s thwarting an attack. “I don’t care about any of those things either, Brad. There is a much larger picture that you seem to have forgotten.”

  “I like her. She likes me. I can’t think of any issues.”

  “She’s in foster care. We’re legally responsible for keeping her safe while she’s with us.”

  “You think I’m going to hurt her? Is that emotionally or physically? Because I have such a track record of beating up girls, right? God, I want to protect her from the assholes in her previous life who probably did hurt her!”

  “You need to calm down, so we can have a rational discussion.”

  I shake my head and look away from him. We’ve always had a good and open relationship, but the way he’s acting right now is pissing me off.

  “Do you not remember any of the training we received? You can’t be involved with her,” he says.

  I snap my head around to look at him again. “I remember all the training and nowhere did it say that someone in the house of the same age may not date a placement.”

  “It was implied with all the other rules we must adhere to.”

  “No, it wasn’t!”

  “Bradley, this is a place where she needs to feel safe and secure. Like we’re her family. Her mom and dad. Her brother. She’s been through hell and doesn’t need to jump into another relationship when the rest of her life is still not straightened out. You have to understand that.”

  “This could be the first healthy relationship she’s ever had. This could help her get her life straightened out!”

  “I’m pulling the Dad card here. Your mother and I forbid the two of you from any type of romantic relationship while she is in our care. That’s final.”

  “This is bullshit!”

  “If you won’t agree, then we’ll find another placement for her.”

  His one little sentence silences me. If they find another placement, it probably wouldn’t be in this county. I may never see her again. Plus, she doesn’t have a phone. I might not even be able to talk to her again. And who would be there to protect her from the next asshole?

  “She ages out at eighteen. In May,” he says, resting his hand on my knee. “Everything can change when she’s no longer in DSS custody.”

  “That’s a whole seven months away,” I reply, yanking my knee out from under his hand.

  “I’d say it’s only seven months away. It’s all about perspective, son. Sleep on it and let us know what you’d like to do in the morning.”

  There’s only one answer. As much as it pains me, I know I have to agree. “I don’t need to sleep on it. I don’t want her leaving. I’ll keep my hands off her.”

  He nods and stands. “We trust you. Obviously, we can’t monitor the two of you twenty-four-seven, so you need to take personal responsibility.” He strides to the door, then turns around and adds, “This is our first placement and we want to do things right. If we mess this up, we may lose our license. Think of all the future kids that we can help. If you do the right thing now, we can turn things around for not only Hailey, but lots of other kids, as well. If you do the wrong thing, it could be over.”

  He closes the door and I chuck the football at it. Damn him. Why does he have to say something like that? I basically have no choice. Hailey and I have to be siblings for the next seven months. The girl who is slowly stealing my heart and driving me crazy is going to sit next to me for every meal, sleep in a room only a few feet away, and torture me with her closeness during every tutoring session, while I pretend there is absolutely no chemistry between us. I have to kill the romantic thoughts and only think platonic thoughts from now on.

  Yeah, this ought to work out just great.

  I open the door and sit in the hallway waiting for her to come up from her beat down with Mom. It’s only a few minutes later. She glances in my direction, then walks silently into her room.

  I follow her and stick my hand into the opening, just as she’s closing the door. “Hailey,” I say. “Let me in for a second.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she replies from behind the partially closed door.

  “We need to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Uh … yeah, there is.”

  “Brad, let’s just forget everything that happened today. If we go back to where we were yesterday, everything is fine.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I have too, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  She doesn’t say anything.

  “Brothers and sisters talk, right?” I ask.

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any.”

  “Adam and Abbie talk all the time.”

  “Okay.”

  She still doesn’t open the door wide enough for me to see her.

  “Can I come in?” I ask.

  “Adam and Abbie talk in her bedroom?”

  “Sometimes,” I lie. After an incident about six years ago when we read her diary, Abbie instituted a strict no boys rule for her room. Her parents helped her enforce it by adding a lock.

  I nudge the door with my hand, revealing Hailey who looks like I feel. Her shoulders are slumped, her eyes hang low, and her face is drawn tight. She’s defeated.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know my parents would have an issue with this. I honestly didn’t think it was against DSS regulations. I’m still not sure it is, but …”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it,” she finishes for me. “I don’t want to leave here. This is the best placement I’ve had.”

  “I don’t want you to leave either.”

  “So, it’s settled.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Siblings?” she asks, holding out her hand. I grip it, but rather than shake it, I pull her into a hug. It doesn’t feel nearly as awkward as the first day. In fact, it feels perfect, like this is exactly where our bodies belong.

  “I’m not having brotherly feelings for you right now,” she says, muffled against my chest.

  I step away from her and smile. “So, no contact at all?”

  “I think that’s best. You also need to keep your shirt on.”

  I laugh at her serious expression. “My shirt?”

&n
bsp; “Yes. Your naked torso gives me non-brotherly feelings, and you like to show it off regularly.”

  Her confession makes me smile. I assumed she was physically attracted to me by our making out earlier, but it’s nice to hear her say the words. “Anything else?”

  “No squatting around me.”

  “Squatting?”

  “Yes, like in the weight room.”

  My smile grows larger. “You like my ass or my legs?”

  “Neither. I can’t like them, remember?”

  “Right. Okay, well, I have a few things for you, too.” If she’s trying to minimize temptation, then I need to do the same. “No more leggings or skinny jeans.”

  “That’s half my closet.”

  “We’ll go shopping tomorrow. I’ll tell Dad he has to pay since this is all his doing anyway.”

  She laughs and says, “What else?”

  “That new fruity scent that follows you around?”

  “Yes.”

  “It needs to go.”

  “It’s my shampoo.”

  “Get a new one. Something unscented, please. And—this is most important—you need to stop wearing my old sweatshirt.”

  “Your old sweatshirt is the biggest turn on?”

  “God, yes.”

  “I don’t get that at all.”

  I shrug and say, “It’s a guy thing.”

  We stand in silence for a few moments and then she says, “Okay, then.”

  “Okay.”

  “Goodnight?”

  I don’t want the night to end. We’ve had a fantastic day together and I’m still having fun with her now, despite the change in circumstances. “It’s still early. We could watch another movie?” I offer.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Want to work on some more geometry problems?”

  “Yes, but no.”

  “We could go out and get some ice cream.”

  “Because that wouldn’t feel like a date at all.”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Yes.”

  “That hurts.”

  “Get used to it.”

  I know she’s right. I do need to get used to it, for at least the next seven months, but that doesn’t minimize the sting of her rejection. “When’s your birthday?” I ask.

  “May 10th.”

  “Would you like to go on a date with me on May 10th?”

  “I could probably fit that in.”

  “Great.”

  “Goodnight, Brad,” she says, shoving me out the door.

  “Goodnight.”

  Chapter 19

  HAILEY

  In the morning, I wake to the smell of bacon and coffee. I groan, realizing how awkward this morning might be. It shouldn’t be since we’ve had breakfast together almost every day for the past five weeks, but last night kind of changed things. Well, it did and then it didn’t. Regardless, things have been done and said that can’t be undone or unsaid, so even if we try to act like we always did, what happened is just sitting in the back of everyone’s minds, his parents included.

  Knowing that someone will come grab me if I don’t get up, I lumber out of bed and reach for the sweatshirt I always put over my tank top. Then I remember Brad’s words from the night before. My mouth curves upward involuntarily, thinking about all the times I must have made a positive impression without even realizing it. I throw the sweatshirt in the hamper and consider what to do. I’m not going downstairs in a practically see-through tank top, so I grab the long-sleeved knit shirt I wore last night. It looks ridiculous with my pajama bottoms, but it serves its purpose.

  When I make it downstairs, everyone is already seated like usual.

  “Morning,” Gil says, not even glancing up from his newspaper.

  “Good morning.” I circle around to take my usual seat and find Brad pushing it out with his foot, in a somewhat secret gentlemanly manner.

  I smile at him and he nods, then goes back to stuffing his face with French toast.

  “How’d you sleep, Hailey?” Gigi asks.

  “Good. Thanks.”

  “Here’s some juice,” she says, handing me a glass.

  I thank her and serve myself a couple strips of bacon and one slice of French toast.

  Then it’s silent. Eerily silent. Meals with the Campbells are never silent. They always have something to talk about, even if it’s just mundane details about their days.

  Gil lowers the paper and focuses on his breakfast, but still doesn’t speak. The clank of his silverware interrupts the silence like a well-timed alarm clock.

  “So,” he finally says. “We need to decide where to vacation in December.”

  “I’m sure you’ve already decided for us,” Brad replies.

  I’m used to him making snide comments to his parents, but they’re usually in a fun, joking manner. There was nothing fun or joking about this, and I cringe at how unsettling it is. This is not Brad.

  “I was hoping we could talk about it as a family,” Gils says.

  “I vote Caribbean cruise.”

  “We went on a cruise last year. Wouldn’t you like to do something different? We haven’t been to Aspen in over three years.”

  “No, but I don’t get the sense that you really care to hear my opinion. I’m sure your mind is already made up.”

  “Brad, you know that’s not true,” Gigi says, trying to break the tension between father and son.

  Brad’s phone vibrates and he looks into his lap, where he’s holding it. Phones at the table are another pet peeve of Gil’s. I glance up and Gil is staring at him with disapproval. Brad doesn’t even notice as he frantically moves his fingers across the screen, typing a text.

  “I don’t care,” he says, still typing. “Go wherever you want.” He stands and adds, “May I be excused? I’ve got something to take care of.”

  “Of course, honey,” Gigi says.

  He looks at me and I’m rewarded by a temporary softening of his gruff exterior. “Later, sis.”

  “Bye,” I murmur, realizing my concerns about things being awkward this morning were totally warranted. I just thought it’d be more between me and Brad and not him and his dad. He seemed upset last night, but not this angry, and I have to wonder if something else is going on.

  “What’s your plan for the day?” Gigi asks me.

  “My mom wants to see me.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “No, not really.”

  “Want to talk about it?” Gil asks and I can only imagine he’s already psychoanalyzing me. I like him, but after last night, I kind of want to keep some things private.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Can I drive you somewhere to meet her?” Gigi asks.

  “Sherry’s picking me up in about forty-five minutes. She said she’d limit the visit to an hour, so I should be back by one-ish.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in and out today, but you’ll be here all day, right Gil?”

  “Sure will. Maybe we could grab lunch together, Hailey?”

  “Sherry usually gets me something to eat when I’m with her.”

  “How about Starbucks later? Coffee and a snack?”

  “I don’t really drink coffee.”

  “Hot chocolate?”

  “Umm …” Why is he so insistent? I’ve never spent time alone with him before and certainly don’t want to do it now after last night and the way Brad’s been treating him. What if Gil blames his son’s behavior on me?

  “Look,” he says, removing his glasses and laying them on the table. “I’m going to be honest here, Hailey. Brad clearly likes you as more than a friend. That’s not something he takes lightly. Given this, I have a feeling you will be in our lives a lot longer than the term of your placement. I’d like to spend some quality time together and get to know you better.”

  Whoa. That’s not what I was expecting. Is this like some sort of girlfriend interview? Do I need to prove that I’m good enough for his son?

  �
��Sure. Starbucks sounds like fun,” I reply, a little worried by what this trip might turn into.

  “Good. Let’s plan on leaving around three.”

  *****

  An hour and a half later, I’m at DSS in a room with kids’ toys and my mom. This is the first time I’ve seen her or even talked to her in five weeks. She’s sitting on the sofa when I enter.

  “Hailey, honey, I’ve missed you so much,” she says in a tone I’ve never heard from her. She jumps to her feet and wraps me in a hug, but I let my arms hang limply by my side. I haven’t missed her one bit. I don’t even want to see her now.

  “I’ll be back in an hour,” Sherry says, leaving the room.

  As soon as she closes the door, my mom crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at me. “Where’d you get the fancy clothes?” she asks in her usual tone.

  I look down at what I’m wearing. Jeans and a button-down shirt. Far from fancy, but much nicer than anything in her closet. “I got a clothing stipend from DSS.”

  “Must be nice having someone handing money to you,” she says.

  “It’s not for long. I’ll be on my own in May.”

  She leans against the wall. “I wanted to see you weeks ago.”

  “I know, but I wasn’t ready.”

  “Weren’t ready to see your dear old mom?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve gained weight.”

  Looking at her is no longer like looking in a mirror. We have the same coloring and are the same height, but my once dull and brittle hair is full and glossy, my cheeks have filled out, and my spindly legs and chest are fuller. She seems to look even worse than I remember with more wrinkles and dark bags under her eyes. She looks fifty, but is only thirty-three. It’s a side effect of the drugs and alcohol. They really should show before and after pictures during health education; that would definitely convince most of the girls to stay away.

  “Why did you want to see me?” I ask.

  “I talked to Chase.”

  My stomach drops at her words. Nothing they talk about could lead to anything good for me. When I don’t say anything, she continues. “He said you’re living in some fancy, billionaire’s place now.”