Page 78 of Hate Game

I haven’t told Malice about my meetup with my brother. He would have a shit fit if I did.

But would he care? Am I giving him too much credit for worrying about my safety or needing to know where I am just because we slept together? His mood is lighter, and the other kids, including Cassie, notice. Malice laughs more. There is a shine in his eyes. Those dimples of his make more of an appearance.

If the girls go wild for Malice’s smirk and moodiness, they literally fling themselves at him when he smiles big. When he catches me watching him, he smirks but doesn’t smile.

The girls catch me looking at him, and they roll their eyes and snicker. My name, followed by filthy, god-awful words, is written on the stalls in the bathroom. What they say and write about me would have bothered me a few weeks ago. Now, I let their ignorance and hate slide off me.

I’m glad Malice and I hate one another in public. But when I’m no longer working for his parents and living under the same roof as him, will he ask me to be his girlfriend?

I already had a boyfriend, but I would like a guy to fall deeply in love with me before graduation.

31

MALICE

Thanksgiving comes and goes. I took the initiative and FaceTimed my parents after the guys from my team, Josh, Rue, and her crew, and Leigh and Sorrow volunteered at the food bank, serving up a full affair, five-course Thanksgiving dinner to the underserved in our community.

I don’t know about the rest of the guys, but seeing the gratefulness and happiness on the people’s faces, including more children than I realized were in need, opened my eyes to how much I have. I’ve been an ungrateful son of a bitch, and it’s time I changed my ways.

“Malice, Son, it’s nice to hear from you. How are things?”

“Good, Dad.” I give him the condensed version of how Rue and Leigh are finding things to do in Cambridge and Delridge for my teammates and me.

They’re having dinner at Cillian McCabe’s huge estate in the Bay Area. With them are Seven’s parents, Cillian’s daughter, Blaise, and, low and behold, Leigh’s friend, “Mad” Maddox Stassi.

What a small world. One of my best friends is related to someone with ties to the Irish mob. And my parents and Seven’s folks are having dinner with this dangerous crowd. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. I’m to stay out of trouble, yet they’re courting it by doing business with the mob.

“Were there any dogs that caught your attention?” Mom asks.

We signed up for volunteer shifts at the local shelter. Rue and I take the dogs out for their daily walks or pup cups in my brand-new truck. It’s one of my favorite things to do with her after school.

“There is one. She’s the sweetest. Half husky, half German Shepherd.”

“A Shepsky? She’ll be a troublemaker but the most loyal dog.”

I’ve always pictured a dog in my life, but the uncertainty of not knowing where I’ll be after graduation stopped me from making that kind of commitment.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling.” Rue crowds into me from behind and waves at my parents.

“Hi, Rue,” my parents say in unison.

“We love your weekly reports. Malice is making great progress.”

“He is. Tell them how well you’re doing in class. You forgot to mention the parts about you, Trace, and Seven helping the old folks get to and from the store and the pharmacy. Or that you’re helping whittle down the single mothers’ honey-do list. And what about the other good stuff? Tell, tell, tell.” She claps her hands with each “tell.” This girl.

I shake my head and smile. My parents laugh.

Before Rue came back into my life, I would have kept everything from my parents, including the “good stuff,” as she calls how I help the people in my community.

But seeing the pride in my father’s eyes and my mom’s bright smile has me telling them more in ten minutes than I’ve done when they were home for two weeks straight, the longest they were home this year.

I also share with them my time spent with my friends and Rue’s crew. They ask about Sorrow. My parents are close to Trace’s parents.

“We went over to Trace’s last weekend for dinner. Sorrow is quiet. Trace is helping her open up more. He’s good to her.”

What I leave out is the palpable tension between those two. Like me and Rue, they are playing their own version of the hate game. Eventually, their dislike and attraction for one another will come to a head, and they’ll have to decide whether to take the heat between them all the way to the finish line or go their separate ways.

I live in the moment, but the future is fast approaching, and we’ll have to decide sooner rather than later whether to stay together or go our separate ways after graduating.

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