Page 15 of The One I Hate
“I don’t know,” he says. “Does she like me?”
I nod as he slides me over another water. “She does.”
“Does he know that?”
“Yes. He does.”
“Then no,” he says, taking a glance down toward the end of the bar then back to me. “If I was into her, and she was into me, then everyone else would disappear.”
I point to Max aggressively, which almost makes me fall off my barstool. “This man has it figured out!”
He laughs then points an accusing finger at my untouched glass of water.
He’s nice. And hot. I bet he isn’t cocky and doesn’t call people by stupid nicknames.
“Is that what Simon did?” Mellie asks.
“Huh?”
She nods toward Max. “What you just asked Max. Is that what Simon did?”
Well, shit. I forgot she could hear me.
“He broke my heart,” I say, choosing to not go into details. Mellie doesn’t know much about Simon, except that I hate him.
“I’m sorry,” she says, patting my back. “That sucks.”
“He asked me out for months,” I begin. “I always said no because I thought he was a sexed-up frat boy who just wanted another notch on his bedpost. Wait, do people actually put notches on bedposts?”
This makes Mellie think for a second. “I bet they did back in the day. I can Google it?” She shakes her head in annoyance. “No. No Goog-ing. Back to the story.”
“Yes. Sorry. So we actually became friends. Good friends. Like I think at one point he was my best friend, but I never told him that because his head was already big enough.”
“I bet other things were big…”
“Mellie!” I yell. “He’s the enemy.”
She shrugs. “You have to admit, he’s a hot enemy. At least from what I saw today.”
“I’m not admitting anything,” I say in defiance, even though that’s a lie. I’m just a liar-liar- pants-on-fire tonight. Because Simon is hot, and he’s only gotten better with age. Which is a shame because he’s an asshole. Those crystal blue eyes shouldn’t be wasted on Satan.
“I wonder what his beard would feel like?” Mellie says, her eyes staring out, unfocused.
“Stop it!” I say. “We aren’t talking about his hotness. Or his beard. Or his body in a suit.”
“I didn’t say anything about a suit.” Mellie wags her eyebrows. “Just admit he’s hot.”
I groan. “Fine. He’s hot. He always has been and apparently always will be.”
Mellie smiles. “I’m glad you admit that. Now you can tell me what Hot Satan did to you.”
I shake my head. I don’t like talking about it. That day began the shitstorm of my life. “Let’s just say I thought things were going somewhere, because I, once again, believed the words a man said.”
“Men suck.”
“Yeah, they do,” I say. “Why do they lie?”
“Yeah!” Mellie says. “And why do they say words that aren’t true?”
