Page 7 of Between Hate and Desire

I huff, seeing red. “Why are you so insistent on being like this? No wonder you’re single. No one can stand you once your clothes are back on.”

Hunter places a hand on his chest over his heart and gives me a fake pouty look. “Oh man. That one hurt. What will I ever do with myself?” He makes the extra effort to roll his eyes with so much exaggeration, I’m afraid they might get stuck. “Try again, Lennon. Your jabs have become as old and worn out as you.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re gonna be single forever and die alone.”

“Better than being stuck with someone bossy and always nagging—likeyou.” His toast pops up, and he sets it on the counter with no plate, scattering the crumbs everywhere as he spreads peanut butter over both pieces.

“You’re impossible!” I glare at the mess he’s making where I cleaned. “If you weren’t Brandon’s best friend…”

“Go ahead. Say it,” Hunter says over his shoulder. “Idareyou.”

Ignoring him, I grab a protein shake out of the fridge. “I don’t have to because you already know what I was gonna say.”

“That you’d kick me out?” He releases an evil chuckle. “As if you have some sort of power over him. Hate to break it to you, honey buns, but Brandon does whatever he wants. Just because you two are fuckin’ doesn’t mean shit. I’ve known him for longer than you and know him better than you ever will. Your magical pussy won’t be able to make him bend to your will forever, sweetheart.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh, refusing to let his words get to me. “You’re so vile and immature. You need to grow up. Acting like this at twenty-four isn’t cute anymore.”

“Oh, so you thought I was cute at one point?” Hunter taunts and takes a bite of his toast, crumbs falling on his clothes and the floor this time, but he doesn’t seem to care.

I narrow my eyes. “Ineverthought you were cute.”

“Liar,” he says matter-of-factly, smacking his lips. “I know for certain you did.”

My blood pumps at a much faster rate, and I know if I don’t walk away, I’ll say something I’ll regret later. So I choose the high road like any mature adult would. If only he’d act like one every once in a while.

Though it pains me, I allow him to have the final word. Turning on my heels, I grab my bag, then leave with the door slamming behind me. As I walk down the stairs, I try to take in deep, calming breaths, refusing to let him ruin my day.

Brisk air brushes against my cheeks, and I can’t get to my car fast enough. Winter in California is bearable and much different from Utah where I grew up. There’s no snow here, but sometimes the cool air chills me to the bone. Once I’m inside, I set my things on the passenger seat and inhale a deep breath as I start the car. The thought of toast crumbs on the floor and counter has me twitching, so before I leave, I text Hunter, unable to let him get away with this.

Lennon

Please, if you could, pick up the kitchen before you leave. I’d appreciate your help with this.

Hunter

New number, who dis?

Lennon

Why do you insist on aggravating me all the time?

Hunter

Not sure what you’re talking about. And the answer is no, honey buns. I’m walking out the door and can’t be late. Have a NICE day.

Ugh! He knows how much I hate that nickname, yet he continues to say it. Ever since the first time I made Brandon cinnamon rolls, Hunter has called me that, but I know he’s being condescending by the way he treats me.

I type out a rude message but then decide to delete it. Reminding myself I’m the bigger person, I tuck my phone into my bag and try to push the thoughts of him away. Hunter’s been dead set on treating me like an inconvenience since the first night I came home with Brandon. After eight months of living together, I don’t know why I’d expect him to change.

Sighing, I reverse and pull onto the road and drive toward the school. I hate being this worked up in the morning and can’t wait until Brandon and I get our own place. When we’re more financially stable, we will. I’ve only been working for the school since the fall and haven’t completed my first year yet. Brandon has been at his job since he graduated, but he has some student loans to pay off because his football scholarship didn’t cover everything. Even though Hunter acts like an ass most of the time, I can put up with him as long as it means I get to live with my love and not struggle to pay the bills each month. Small sacrifices, I suppose.

Hardly any traffic is on the road on the way to work, which is a miracle. Depending on what time I leave in the mornings, it can be a smooth sailing or bumper to bumper, another reason I like being early. Soon I’m parking and grabbing my bag, then crossing the parking lot. I walk to the office to meet Principal Orson. She’s strict and scary, how most kids imagine principals, and has worked in education for over twenty-five years. I respect the hell out of her, but it doesn’t make me any less nervous when we’re having a one on one. She’s the type of woman who will chew a person up and spit them out with only a few words.

“Sit,” she instructs, barely glancing up from the papers in her hand when I enter her office. I take a seat, dropping my heavy bag on the floor.

“I saw you submitted a budget proposal for the spring concert,” she says, her dark eyes finally meeting mine.

I swallow hard. “Yes, ma’am. I’d like to be able to buy a few new microphones and instruments for the kids to play at the concert. We have a large supply of recorders but are missing several percussion instruments like hand drums, claves, and even a bass drum,” I linger nervously. “The tambourines aren’t in the greatest condition either as you can imagine with the kids smacking them around.”

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