Dare You to Hate Me by B. Celeste (classic fiction .txt) 📕

if he owns more than those, and he said he has an entire closet full of shoes but is too lazy to break any of them in.

I’m taken aback at the nickname. “You just saw me this morning in class.”

He grins, all boyish and dimpled as he approaches me with outstretched arms. “And it’s been far too long since I’ve seen that pretty face of yours. C’mere.”

Before I can object, he’s wrapping me in a tight hug. My body locks up from the contact knowing he doesn’t smell right. Not bad, just not like cinnamon and pine. Instead he’s wearing some expensive-smelling body spray that takes over my senses. I can’t find myself to return the hug, so I keep my arms to my sides until he backs away.

He doesn’t seem offended by my stillness. “We’ll have to work on your hugging skills. You’re not supposed to stand there acting like you’re being held captive.”

Debatable.

Before I can ask what he’s doing here, Raine and Caleb walk over to us hand in hand. I used to envy the way they always felt the need to touch one another. I haven’t had that in a long time, and the desperate, rushed touches I’m used to is nothing in comparison to the obvious love they have for each other.

It’s Raine who says, “We thought you’d like to go out with us for food. Syd mentioned that there was a party here tonight so…”

When isn’t there a party? This house has become known for them around campus. “Er, I’m not sure.” My eyes go to the kitchen, where the door to my room is. Despite the plumber never coming, there hasn’t been any more leaks. Caleb fixed Sydney’s tub and said he could find some new tile to redo the pieces damaged on my ceiling from his Dad’s store in town. Hesitantly, I look back at the three expectant faces and see them all waiting. “What did you have in mind exactly?”

“Malvin’s Place,” DJ pipes up, slinging an arm around my shoulder. I never liked touchy-feely guys, but I refrain from shaking his arm off like I want to because it’s innocent. “You can’t say no to pizza, can you?”

“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” I try, despite the stuck out lip the blond is giving me.

Caleb laughs, playfully smacking DJ’s arm. “I think she just told you no, bro.”

Raine gives me a small smile. Seeing her pressed against Caleb, both of them with warm, genuine expressions on their faces, makes it hard to turn them down. “We won’t be out long. Cal and I wouldn’t mind getting away from here, and Malvin’s has the best pizza in town if you haven’t been yet.”

“I’m paying,” her boyfriend adds, eyeing me like he knows that’s a deciding factor in my decision to agree or not.

And, sadly, it is. At least he doesn’t look judgmental about it. Plus, if he’s offering… “Can I change first?” I tug on the clothes I’m wearing, covered in flour and other food from the bakery.

They all nod, and Caleb yanks DJ back when he tries following me, DJ saying, “I can come help if you need me to.”

I silently laugh at his theatrics like I have since he’s taken over the seat next to mine in class. What’s worse is that his buddies have all followed suit, taking other peoples’ seats around us. There’s an unspoken rule about seat assignments once the semester passes the first week—nobody takes different spots. Yet nobody has complained about the sudden change, probably because most of the football team doubles the size of everybody else. A few peers cast me accusatory glances when they see me surrounded by the burly men like I’m to fault for their eviction, and I can’t say they’re unwarranted. It’s hard to refute when all the guys greet me with a short “hey, Ivy” or head nods every time they take their seats as if we’ve been friends all semester.

When I asked DJ why everyone switched spots, he’d simply shrugged and told me, “The team is a family. Where one goes, we all go.”

And even though I have a feeling it’s more than DJ’s friends taking his lead on the change up, I don’t let myself think about it harder than necessary, including who the outside influencer is.

By the time I’m in a pair of decent leggings without any holes and a sweatshirt that I bought on sale at the campus store, a few of my housemates are setting up the kitchen with drinks for the party. They pay me no attention when I emerge from my room, so I offer them a meaningless wave, and meet the three people who actually seem to want me around by the front door.

Malvin’s is one of the three pizzerias in Lindon, and also the priciest. The brick building sits between a hair salon and thrift shop that I’ve spent more money in than I like to admit. But Raine isn’t wrong when she says it’s the best, which makes me feel less guilty about Caleb paying for a meat lover pie that I dive into once the busty waitress sets it down on the stand, shooting the two boys a wink despite Raine and I sitting here.

“So,” DJ says, popping a piece of sausage into his mouth. Raine giggled earlier when she saw what I was wearing, saying I matched the dirty blond currently staring me down. “Are you hung up on our tight end or do I stand a chance at all?”

I choke on the piece of pepperoni I’m swallowing, grabbing ahold of the water Raine passes me as she glares at the team’s wide receiver.

He shrugs at her innocently. “I’m asking a fair question. Griff barely says a word to anyone but your boy toy here— Oh, don’t give me that look, Anders. You’re a long-term boy toy, but still a boy toy. Anyway, Griff only tells Caleb here shit. So I’m in the dark wondering what