Tell Me You Hate Me

I have a secret. I like Dane Spencer since the day he first hoisted me up into his arms when I was nine, the very first time Elio introduced me as his sister. Mom and my stepdad had just started dating and even though she didn't have the heart to tell me, I knew she was afraid his sons weren’t going to like me. A stray branch who their father might love more now that I was in the picture. Add to the fact that the father and sons' already strained relationship did nothing to help ease her anxiety. In a twisted turn of events though, they ended up not liking her, whereas they immediately got smitten by the fat on my cheeks. When Mom made it clear she was in it for the long run with their dad, it didn’t take long for them to call me their sister. Well, at least Elio didn’t. Julian needed a little convincing—maybe that’s why he was my favorite growing up. He didn’t treat me like the kid I was, not like Elio who always had the pervasive need to spoon feed me every chance he gets. Levi was just weird and quiet. Not to mention, blunt. No burns are truly doused with cool comforting water when it came to him. But he was always kind to me, awkward at times when we're alone in a room that he always opted to treat me like a kid he was babysitting. I didn't mind though. I was just happy to have a complete family for once in my life. Not that I wasn't happy with my mother. It was just always so quiet most days. And then there was Dane. The brother who I was glad isn’t blood related to any of the Pavlov brothers. You would think by how much he spent the holidays and vacations with us. He caught my attention before I even truly knew what love was. Dark haired, full lips, and crystal eyes that were to die for. He was fifteen when I met him, the same age as Elio. Maybe that’s the reason why he was closer to the middle child than Julian who he had a couple of classes with during their high school years. Minus their shared love for football, of course. While my half-brother pursued a career on the sport, Dane gave his chance up for a scholarship in Chicago to pursue Law in New York. Kind of a bummer if you ask me. Not the leaving behind his athleticism to pursue his passion. It was the fact that he had to move away from Ridgewood Bay that disappointed me the most. Although, he’d visit during the off days back when Elio was still a senior in high school, that was enough for me. Even though all we ever do is bicker. But those are the moments I cherished deeply because I wasn’t regarded as his best friend's sister, but a girl he treated as one of the boys. As one of them. That made me stuck in the friendzone, I know. But the thing is, I prefer it that way. I didn’t know s**t about dating nor was I any good at it, contrary to what the internet say about me. I’m afraid to f**k it up with one of the only people I fully trusted to catch my fall when I’m drunk past three, stumbling like a depraved lunatic at a Pasadena bar on a night out after having broken my three-inch heels as I stumble through the streets like a hooker who got her fill at a back alley. Because that’s what’s happening right after I found out Ted Magazine dropped me following a report I published that wasn’t too up to their standards. By up to their standards, I mean billionaires who got caught doing things they shouldn’t be doing and retaliated with ten lawsuits against the company. Bunch of assholes. Maybe I wasn’t being ethical in my data gathering, but I’m ethical to my audience who deserve the truth. I was lucky enough to land this job without having a college degree being twenty and not so fresh out of high school. I earned my spot by solving five connected murder sprees for fun on a two-month vacation in California during the summer break following my high school graduation. I wasn't even halfway through my first semester at college before Ted Magazine contacted me about a full-time job. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity that was too good to pass up. Now that I lost it, where was I going to go? No company with a reputable status was going to hire a college drop out and a, quote, “volatile reporter with an incessant need for a story.” As far as I know, most papers love that. And I don’t go after just any story. I go after a story which necessitates the truth. And billionaires raking up tax payer money and covering it over the false pretense of a road construction to better the community isn’t one. I gave the people the truth and what do I get in return? The toe-end of the boot up my ass into a club getting drunk with a now ex-colleague awkwardly patting my back. "s**t, Addie. Babe, you gotta slow down." I ignored Tim and don my fourth Tequila shot of the night. I almost forgot how good it felt to let my inhibitions go and just drink my problems away. I never should have stopped after high school. From my sling purse wrapped around my body, I feel my phone vibrating for the umpteenth time since I entered the bar. I already know who it was—er, they are. It isn't a secret to me that one of my brothers has been monitoring my every move since I started high school. How else would it explain the coincidental disappearance of my transgressions on social media? Not that I've seen them, I made a point not to ever get on any of those silly platforms unless necessary. I'd bet big bucks they already knew I was fired before my manager told me. "I told you you shouldn't have published that article," Tim berates as he took a sip of his water. Boring. I glare at him. "Apparently, you and everybody else." My head felt so light that I had to prop my elbow on the counter to support my head. "Tell me if I still give a s**t about everyone's opinion, Tim." "You should, especially when that snarky attitude of yours is what got you fired." I probably should listen to him. But the alcohol won't let me. So instead, I say, "Bite me." He rolled his eyes. "Real mature." I laugh, feeling the euphoric buzz of the tequila go straight to my head. Another buzz of my phone and I'm tempted to chuck it across the room. The thought I might not be able to afford a new one in a few weeks stopped me. Oh, God. I was going to go back to college. Mom is going to make me considering she makes it clear every chance she gets of her disapproval over my decision to drop out of college. Journalism isn’t what I wanted to pursue, but it was better than being an Econ Major who always marked average in their exams. Papa Robert really almost tore himself another hole for me being a similar version of his son, Elio, who went pro at football instead of dipping himself in his father's pharmaceutical company. At least Elio was pursuing what he loved. Julian and his professional racing. Only Levi pursued a career in business, although, he made a point of being so far removed from his father's name that he built his own company in opposition to Robert's. Meanwhile, I had no straight direction. Realization donned upon me. Robert was going to make me work at his company as an intern. I dropped my forehead on the counter with a thud. I don't know how it was possible, but I felt my friend inwardly cringing. "Babe, you're starting to embarrass me." I lift my head slightly to see him covering the side of his face from the man beside him who offered me an amused look. Feeling like destroying the last shred of my dignity, I forced myself to sit up straight. "Hey, my friend might like you," I called over the loud music blaring. "Do you want to ask him to dance or you want me to ask you?" The man smiled suggestively. I don't get a chance to decipher if what I had proposed was a logical move because Tim turned his back on me and shooed the man away without a second thought. I frown when he got up and left. "You're no fun." "No, I'm not in the mood to yell rape on the off chance he forces himself on you in the middle of the dance floor. He certainly looks the type." Probably, but I didn't care at the moment. None of it mattered anyway. I was going back to Ridgewood Bay sometime within the week and my life would go back to being hell. I guess going back to college would be better than seeing him every day in Ridgewood Bay. Haunting memories I wished never to relive surfaced in the back of my mind that only made me want to drown my sorrows even more. I reached for the small tequila glass the bartender had already placed before I even asked. Remind me to give him a kiss later. Tim slapped my arm before my lips could touch the rim. "I'm serious. Just because you f****d up one time doesn't mean you get a free pass to f**k up all your life decisions from now on." "Jesus, it's one drink, Timmy," I slur. He slammed my glass on the table. "Five. Not that you were counting," he mumbled the last part. "You weren't kidding when you said you were rowdy in high school." Oh, you don't have a single clue. I wanted to cry, the urge so strong that tears burned the back of my eyes. And it's not just because I lost my job. And no one would ever know why. Tim sees my dejected frame and sighed. He gripped my chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "Honey, listen to me. There are a lot of job openings out there that would kill to get you on their team. Ted Magazine might have been your first, but it's not the last. Trust me. Think of it as the guy who stole your virginity back in middle school and never called you again." I quirk an eyebrow. Middle school? I don't even want to ask. "But on your wedding day, you'll forget he ever crossed your path in the first place. You'll be brimming with happiness surrounded by carefully picked centerpieces and a to-die-for wedding gown while being surrounded by the people you love that you'll forget the name Ted Magazine as you walk down the isle to success." "Why did it have to be now?" I grumble, then lean in so my face was in close proximity to his. "I was happy. I was fulfilled." "But you wanted something more." I slump back to my side. Tim was a lot of things and an attentive friend was one of them. "You weren't contented. The same way you're not contented every time you come home from a million-dollar date with the most dreamy bachelors in Pasadena." I scoff. "Because those dreamy bachelors of Pasadena just wanted a young side-piece to bump up their body count." My hand subtly snake toward the tequila glass Tim put aside, but it doesn't go unnoticed and he slides the glass even further away from me. I bemoan. "Wrong. Because you're too hung up on a certain New York bachelor that shouldn't even be on your radar. It's become pathetic now, sweetie. And I mean it in the most disrespectful way possible." His harsh candor had little effect on me now that I know this is how Tim usually was. When I first met him at the office, he was all but mean to me. But when he became my roommate a month after I permanently moved to California, I was apparently holding up a sign that invites free insults. Nothing serious, though. I appreciated how he saw me as a colleague rather than some kid who went on a field trip and boarded the wrong bus. Of course, our roommateship turned into one giant slumperparty and I ended up telling him more than I intended to. Yes, that included my unrequited secret love for my brothers' closest friend. I know I should only regard Dane Spencer as another brother. God knows I don't have enough of them already. But no matter where he went, what he did, my feelings for him always remained the same. He could blow up Notre Dame and my love for him still wouldn't change. Not that I'd let him know about it. I was fine staying on the sidelines and being his friends' little sister. In fact, I think I prefer it that way. It would save me the heartbreak when the time comes he rejects my affection. Or worse, he'll feel obligated to requite just to save his friendship with my brothers. I let out a groan. Why the hell was all this so f*****g complicated? Tim rubs my back for what seemed like an offer of comfort when, in fact, it was the opposite. I blow out a breath. "God. Here I am, in the middle of the night sitting at a bar alone—" "Apparently, with a ghost." "—with no job—" "Your fault." "—no boyfriend—" "Again, your fault." I give him a glare. I'm single because of choice, not because of some unavailable bachelor I was in love with for as long as I can remember. "—and I'll have to move back to my parents' house." Tim shrugs. "Honestly, it could be worse." I don't say anything, mainly because I was already light-headed. And I don't trust myself when alcohol's involved. I learned my lesson. My phone buzzed again from my purse and I made a move to throw it across the room. Good thing Tim caught it before some luring thief could come out of the shadows and steal my last paycheck tucked inside my tiny wallet. "My God, woman. At least pretend you still have something to live for." Tim digs into my purse for whatever reason he decided to. Not like it was the first. I kept losing my cherry gloss in the morning and my number one suspect was him. At least that was going to end soon. Then it hits me, I wouldn't have to put up with Tim's annoying ass in the morning anymore. Or listen to his crappy podcast of "Heartbreaks and Bachelors." Tears filled my eyes. "Tim," I say weakly. I see him twiddling his thumbs on the screen of my phone, holding back a smile, before shutting it off and putting it back inside my purse. "I'm going to miss you." I didn't get to finish my sentence before I started bawling. Mixed feelings hit me all at once. The fear of the unknown, the change in my lifestyle. And missing the only person who took care of me in a foreign city when I had no one. I was lucky to have the life I had here in California. And that all went away over one article I published digging aim at reality. Tim didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around me and I bawled my eyes out even more at the fact that I won't have his hugs anymore. It's not like there are plenty to go around back on Ridgewood Bay. I used to be the life of high school parties, but that didn't mean I had any real friends. The people I was close enough to regard as one had already left the town, like me. No one with a real future ever stayed in the small city. I guess that's what scared me the most. Knowing I would be stuck in that shithole forever with him lurking around. On the brightside, I'd get to see Mom and Robert after almost a year. I don't come home when I lack any reason to. The place reminded me of the hole I dug for myself back when I didn't know better. Timmy pulled away and that's when I saw his glassy eyes mirror mine. "Oh, don't go all soft on me now, Addie. You gave me a ton of s**t when I got emotional over Titanic, you don't get to turn the freaking tables." Forcing a smile, I wipe away my tears. "Adeleide." He gripped my cheeks, squishing the small fat as it bunched under my eyes. "You are young. Talented. Hell, you could give me a run for my money of being the hottest person in the room someday. But life is too short for your tears. You have to let go of the past and think of bigger and better things to come." I have a feeling he isn't just talking about Ted Magazine. "It may seem like the end of the world, but trust me, this is part of the process." I scrunch my brow. "Of what?" I try to ask, but it comes out muffled with his hand still gripping my face. He lets go of me with a wave of the wrist. "Of life. God, I honestly don't know how you survive this long." Okay, ouch. Sure, I was pampered growing up. Can't exactly help it when I had three overprotective brothers coming home on the holidays with gifts I used to only ever see on TV. My purse buzzed on the countertop with Timmy giving it a glance. I swear, I could see a faint smile appear on his lips before it disappears again. "Look. I'd say we call it a night and head home. We will figure things out tomorrow, yeah? You have your whole life ahead of you to do so, mi amor. Don't sweat it." He's probably right. And I need to get out of these heels soon. Without putting up a fight, I nodded. "I'll head to the restroom first. I'll meet you out front." Tim seemed to hesitate leaving me alone for a moment with the state I'm in before he visibly digressed. My feet were wobbly as I made for the women's restroom. I groaned when the door wouldn't budge, so I had to fling my whole body for it to welcome me. I stumble on my feet down the restroom floor. Except, it wasn't the restroom floor. It was gravel. Ah, s**t. I went through the back door of the bar. I sat up but didn't make a move to stand, not caring if I looked like a wreck with my hair all over the place. I contemplated Tim's words about moving forward from the past. Immediately, my mind drifted off to Dane. I should let go of him, right? It's not like anything really happened between us. Except . . . something did. And he regarded it as the biggest mistake of his life. Shame and humiliation wrenched deep into my soul that I always pretended that day only happened in my dreams. But some days, it managed to slip through the cracks of my facade. Then searing pain scorches through my heart as if I had been stabbed with Arthur's sword that no one but Dane could remove. Tonight was one of those nights. Why hadn't I been enough for him? The crunching of gravel under a pair of boots pulled me out of my thoughts. I squint, looking up, only to be met by a familiar face Tim had just shooed a while ago. "Oh, hello there, dearie." His smile was one for the moments before disaster struck shelf. Looking at him from this angle, he did seem like the type to grope me in the middle of the dance floor without my consent. "Hi," I timidly whispered. "How about that dance you so gladly offered earlier?" Oh, Timmy would have a field day of I told you so's when I tell him about this. Speaking of Timmy. "I have to go. My friend is waiting for me." I manged to scramble upward before he circled his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. s**t, he reeked of booze. Or maybe that was me? "Now, now. You don't get to be a prick tease and get away with it." I tried to shove him as hard as I could muster, but his grip only tightened. "Dude, get off." "Oh, I will, after I'm done with you." I could feel a growing bulge against my lower back. I managed to step my foot down on his hard enough that his grip loosened. I didn't waste time and reared my elbow back, hitting him straight on the septum. "Leave me the f**k alone, you asshole! I'm not in the mood to deal with your bullshit tonight!" I should have been scared, ran away before he could really hurt me. But I was angry. Angry that he thought he could take advantage of my vulnerability today of all days. Big news to this dickwad, I was in the mood to fight. He puts his palm on top of his nose assessing the blood that seeped out. "You f*****g bitch." I steadied myself on my wobbly legs, smiled menacingly as my fingers itched to have a fight so I could let off steam. "Bring it on, you pencil dick." It was dumb of me to provoke a raging bull, but I didn't have my punching bag. A drunk fucker would do, I guess. The man looked ready to charge at me until a deep voice spoke from behind. "Why do you always get yourself into s**t, little trouble?" I froze. I would recognize that voice anywhere. Even if I didn't, there was only one person who called me that silly nickname. The man merely glanced at him before waving him off. "f**k off. This ain't your business, pal." "I wouldn't talk back if you knew what's best for you," he replied in a heartbeat. Then he addressed me. "I really don't want to hide a body tonight, Adeleide." It's not the fact that I wanted to see how lean his jaw had become since the last time I saw him. It was the threat that he wasn't above and beyond hurting anyone, which right now seemed like he was willing to make a promise. So, I slowly turned around and met the familiar crystal blue eyes that'd been the subject of my wet dreams. Dane Spencer was still as handsome as the day he left through my bedroom window.