Page 32 of The Boy I Hate

Six yearsearlier

Samantha layon Renee’s bed, her head hanging over the side, causing her long blond hair to cascade to the floor. It was after school on the last day before fall break, and they’d both ditched, intending to find something better to do. But it was almost dinnertime, and they were still here, in Renee’s upstairs room, doingnothing.

Renee stood in front of her closet mirrors, where she’d been practicing her turns for the last hour. She’d been chosen for the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy in the upcoming performance of the Nutcracker, and scouts were coming all the way from New York to watch her. She was nervous, but Samantha had no doubt she’d do great. Renee was the most graceful person Samantha had ever seen in her life. She was strong, athletic, and moved so easily it was as though it took no effort at all. Just like all the rest of the Montgomerys. Physically fit, totally beautiful, and kind… All exceptTristan.

“Where’s Steven?” Renee asked, pulling Samantha’s attention back to the mirrors. Renee was standing up on her toes, going up and down in releve so quickly it almost madeSamanthasick.

She pulled herself up to sit, then stretched her oversized sweater over her knees. “Palm Springs,” she answered. “He’s playing golf with hisgrandparents.”

Renee prepped for another turn, then pushed off before answering. “Fun,” she saidsarcastically.

Samantha shrugged. “Yeah, well he’s probably having more fun than we are at the moment.” She paused to look in the mirror, pushed herself off the bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. She walked across the room googling the number for Vincenzo’s before turning around. “I’m hungry. Do you want to order pizza—” But before she could finish the question, the sound of Mrs. Montgomery’s scream caused the hair on the back of her necktorise.

“What the heck?” Renee yelled. She flung open her bedroom door and ran down the stairs, Samantha on her heels, running down after her friend. Her stomach felt like cement, her heart hammering in herchest.

They stopped in their tracks at the entrance to the kitchen. Renee’s mom was still screaming, though now it was mixed with laughter and squeals—because Tristan Montgomery held her in his arms and was spinning her incircles.

“Tristan Montgomery! You put me down right this instant! I mean it!” She hit him on the shoulder with her oven mitt, and he finally lowered her to the ground. His smile was so wide it was almost infectious. She quickly pulled him to her chest, throwing her arms around his neck and gripping him so hard you’d think he’d come back from the dead. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow,” she whispered. Her voice thick with emotion. “I thought you had a gametonight?”

He grinned, then stepped backward and pointed to his walking boot. “I got an earlyticket.”

Mrs. Montgomery covered her mouth, pulling in a quick gasp before meeting his eyes again. “Tristan! Whathappened?”

He only shrugged, then hobbled over to lean against the counter. “It’s football, Ma. These thingshappen.”

It was odd being witness to this interaction. Because in all the time she’d spent with the Montgomerys, Samantha had never seen Mrs. M so emotional. She wasn’t crying, but she looked as though she was trying hard not to. Tristan had been hurt like this so many times it was impossible to keep track of. From the look on Mrs. M’s face. It was as though it had happened for the first time. Even from ten feet away, being there, watching this reunion between mother and son felt like an invasion of privacy. Witnessing a special bond that was only theirs to hold… But she couldn’t make herselflookaway.

Mrs. Montgomery turned toward Renee and Samantha, who had gone unnoticed until this point, and pointed to Tristan’s leg. “Andthisis why I’ve always preferredballet.”

They all laughed, except for Samantha, because she was still in shock. This was her first time seeing Tristan in months, and for some reason, he looked different. The sight of him caused an ache in her chest to burn so painfully it was as though it had never stopped. She told herself it was because she was still angry, but it was an anger she’d never felt before. It made her chest tight and her stomach clench as though she was going tothrowup.

He turned to her, watching her as though he’d lost something in her face. Searching her eyes, without the barest apology. It was odd. She’d looked people in the eye before, but never once had she felt so naked. Because he seemed to look deeper than everyone else, everyone combined, and she turned away, sure everyone could read their history on her face. But Tristan carried on as though none of what she’d experienced affected himatall.

“Sis,” he said, resting his back on thecounter.

Renee grinned, then pushed off her spot in the doorway and walked toward him. “Can’t you walk into a room like a normal person? Do you always have to cause such ascene?”

He grinned and came toward her, hobbling forward before pulling her into a hug. “Normal’s overrated,” he stated. He threw his arm over her shoulder and looked towardSamantha.

She tried to keep herself under control, taking deep breaths and smoothing her hair behind her ears. Renee told him about her upcoming performance. About the scouts, and New York, and her big role inThe Nutcracker. There was actually a smile in her voice as she spoke to him, as though she had missed him as much as her mom did. And Tristan—he listened to all of it. Saying how proud he was, how he’d come back to watch her no matter whatthecost.

He told them all about his injury, about it being one of the many trade-offs for being the quarterback of a team. But when the conversation dwindled, he leaned against the counter and glanced between Samantha and Renee. “Any parties tonight?” heasked.

It was the first he’d spoken to her since he’d gotten there, and for some reason she couldn’t answer. Cotton had filled her throat, making it impossible to speak. Renee eyed her with an odd expression, then elbowed Tristan in the rips. “Like I want my big brother tagging along with me,” shescoffed.

He only laughed, as if her elbow had gone unnoticed—but then he moved toward her, like a cat about to pounce. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “You don’t want your big brother tagging along?” He took her head under his arm and started rubbing his knuckles back and forth against her skull. “What’s the big secret, Nay? What are you doing that you don’t want your brotherseeing?”

“Tristan!” She screamed, punching in him the gut while laughing at the same time. They circled each other, gripped together in some sort of double headlock move, until Mrs. Montgomery finally hadenough.

“Tristan, let her go!” sheshouted.

But Samantha only stood there, watching her best friend play fight with her big brother—in a way she’d never seenbefore.

They both finally stopped, pulling quickly apart, though Tristan had to ruffle Renee’s hair before letting her go. “Good to know you can defend yourself, sis.” Helaughed.

“Good to see college hasn’t made yougrowup.”

He winked at her, grinning ear to ear. “Never.”

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