The Boy I Hate

Seven.

A landline phone had never felt so daunting in my hand as it did in this moment. The contraption was a gun in my hand, the buttons triggers. When I let my index finger apply pressure I would shoot dead two years of my life; at least, that's what it felt like hovering over the call button. Rich and I had discussed the conditions of our fake break up a few hours before. He said I should call my friends crying about a huge fight we had. I was meant to call Margie, and Elizabeth. They would be enough to get the rumor mill going (Elizabeth in particular). 

I thought it would all be much easier than it was turning out to be, and this was only the first step. It would surly only get worse when I had to go to school the next day and forgo our regular meet up spot. I couldn't imagine how much it would hurt to see my own acquaintances subtly flirt with him knowing he was now on the market.

I was beginning to feel the regret swell in my stomach like a fever. I woke up that morning with a sour taste in my mouth. I wished I hadn't agreed to something so stupid. What was I thinking? Backing out wasn't an option; the boys had already started operation: spread break up rumors.

Naturally I called Richard first, "I can't do it."

"Babe-"

"I can't. I've been staring at my phone for ages."

He took a second, probably collecting his thoughts. "Remember our first kiss?"

"Obviously."

How could I forget? It was the night of our sophomore homecoming. It was no shock the Richard had asked me; we always went to dances together, but up until that point it had been strictly as friends. This time he knew I had feelings for him, though. That's what gave him the courage to finally make a move.

"I've never told you this," he continued, "but I had been planning that kiss for months. Even before Margie told me you liked me I was gonna do it. I was doing dumb shit like reading books about how to date and kiss, practicing on my hand... It's embarrassing, really."

I laughed, "why are you telling me this?"

"Just to remind you that no matter how messy this stupid plan gets," he breathed, "it will be okay. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

My heart swelled. I hoped he was right; that our love would be enough to save us.

"I love you too."

•••

The rest of the school week was a nightmare. I wished I could burry myself in my studies and ignore the social scene all together, but part of the plan was that I would vent to the girls about the breakup. Hopefully then the mole would spread it to the other side. That meant I had to pretend I didn't forgive him, and in some ways, pretend I hated him.

I would catch his eye in class sometimes, at times when we would usually be sitting together. We couldn't look long - we had to be convincing. I noticed girls trying to comfort him; hugging him in the hallway or laying their hands on his shoulder. None of them would have dreamt to do that a couple days earlier.

I knew it wasn't real, but it sure felt like it. The next time somebody asked me how I was coping I was going to have a breakdown. The next guy to say "if you need a shoulder to cry on," I would probably punch in the face.

Every afternoon, though, felt like a reunion. Richard would sneak over to my place, and we would have makeshift house dates before my parents came home. In some ways the secret lovers act was romantic. Whenever we kissed it felt like we were telling each other secrets and securing them between our lips.

My mom found out from Elizabeth's mom about the breakup. She tried to be concerned for a moment, asking me how I was. It didn't take long for her to make it about our image, though. She started asking me about the ball; if he would still be my escort. She kept saying we needed to throw a party for "damage control," whatever that meant. It was all quite tiring.

My father wasn't sure what to do, he was never good with boy talk. He knocked on my bedroom door to check up on me a couple times, but that was about as much as I got from him.

Margie was the only one offering useful comfort, but it was all rendered meaningless because she didn't know the truth. I was still grateful for her advice and thoughtfulness. Even if "there are plenty of fish in the sea" wasn't relevant to my real situation - it was the thought that counted. I was glad she was there for me, rather than flirting with Richard like the rest of my cheer squad.

I figured my torture would ease on Friday night. I wouldn't be forced into school over the weekend to face the wrath of a public break up. My dreams were met with a harsh veto, though, when the boys let me know my first "mission" would happen that night.

"There's a west side party in Charlie's neighborhood," Noah told me excitedly. "You need to go."

"Do I?" I whined to the group of sweaty boys who showed up at my door after baseball practice.

"You do," he confirmed.

Richard was scrunching up his face to the side of them all. Obviously regretting everything as I was. He wouldn't look up at me.

I rolled my neck, shuffling my feet and taking a deep breath. "When do I need to be ready?"