I Still Hate You by Marie Skye (top 100 novels .txt) 📕

I stared at my plate a few minutes more before deciding to wing it and ask him more. I decided to forgo it when I looked up and he was staring at me with a smirk on his stupid face. He knew exactly what I was going to ask. I decided to go another route instead. “So, what were you in Vegas for?” Probably a prostitute convention.

“Business.”

“Business?” I parroted back at him. He nodded, pouring himself more wine. Wait, he did have a huge hotel room. I at least noticed that when I snuck out in the morning.

“You know, you do a lot of thinking, and not so much talking. That’s still a thing with you I see.”

“Why do you make it sound like you know me? We had sex a few times, and that was the end of it.”

His eyes darkened as he stared at me. In fact, he looked pissed. He was just about to open his mouth to say something when his phone rang. I have never been happier for an interruption in my life. With his eyes still on me, he answered, “Hey… and how did that discussion go? Did you approach it the way we discussed or did you decide to do your own thing again?”

I walked out of the living room into our shared common. I left Ash and his conversation in the kitchen as I went into my room and thought about the first time he spoke to me. It had been one month, or as I sometimes called it ‘post-Hailey’…

“Hey Pineapple, get that tiny ice we like. Don’t fuck it up this time.” I rolled my eyes and turned up the volume on my phone, the song The Beginning Is The End, Is The Beginning by Smashing Pumpkins was just going off, and Push It by Garbage picking right up. What can I say, 90s alternative was better than the shit they played these days.

Pineapple, one of the many names I was called. In all honesty, I doubt anyone even knew my real name. I heard the bell ring and basically, everyone got up to head to their next period. Everyone but me since I didn’t have one. This was my favorite part of the day.

I got to sit here mostly alone in the library. Once I was sure no one was around, I dug around in my bag for today’s prized possession. My Walking Dead comic book. Even though I’ve read this particular one a million times, it never got old.

“I bet that thing has seen better days.”

I jumped at the voice behind me, damn near dropping my comic book. There he was—Ash—captain of the football team, captain of the basketball team, and most likely lead in whatever spring production musical they were doing this year. I expected him to keep walking but instead, he dropped his bag down and sat right next to me. I looked around at all the empty spaces and seats he could have taken, which was damn near the entire library.

I looked back down at my comic book. “Yeah, it was my dad’s.”

“Tell him he needs a new one.” He smiled as he rummaged around in his bag for something.

I stared at him a moment—ridiculous hair, dimpled cheeks. I can see why the girls drooled over him. I didn’t. As far as I was concerned, he was just like the rest of them. He looked up at me and I immediately felt myself blush as I looked back down at my comic book for a moment before responding to his statement. “He’s dead.” The smile he had instantly dropped.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

“You wouldn’t have,” I interrupted him, focusing back on my comic. From then on, it was awkward. No other words were said because that’s what I do. I make it awkward, even when I didn’t mean to.

That’s how it was for the next two weeks. Him sitting right next to me in the library, neither of us saying a word to each other. Granted, I had no idea why. He spent the last three years ignoring my entire existence and the only time he ever said anything to me was a simple ‘thanks’ when I picked up everyone’s dirty towels and jockstraps off the floor in the locker room, which was part of my job as the equipment manager, apparently.

8

Perrie

The more I lived with Ash, the more I remembered why I disliked him, but more so, why I liked him. He didn’t seem to recall that brief connection we had. He didn’t seem to know that we hung out… a lot by the time we got to the university. Of course, he wouldn’t remember me, I was just the one-night stand that night in Vegas, not the shy emo wannabe kid from high school.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice guy, not so bad for a roommate. It’s mostly because he was a manwhore. Every night I came home from work and there was a different whore in the common area. We barely talked—mostly because of my working hours—but there were times I came home and he and the whore of the night were in the living room practically dry humping each other.

With Ash being occupied every damn night, it made me decide to finally begin a casual fling with Felix. He was good-looking, a huge flirt, seemed to care about his family, was a complete dumbfuck, and he liked bees, which was odd since he was allergic to honey.

Three more months, I kept telling myself. If there was anything I was looking forward to, it was the upcoming garden show. I waited all year for this, and sure it was mostly middle-aged people, but I didn’t care. Gardening was how I found my comfort zone and helped me ease stress.

I got home extra early from work and got changed. I got out my best pair of gardening gloves and tools then went to prune the garden again.