Page 45 of The One I Hate
Ilean back into my desk chair and tilt my head to the ceiling. I let out a long, relieved breath as I realize my plan worked. Charlie is going to be here.
Now, what’s next?
Despite what Emmett might be thinking, I don’t have a grand plan. Hell, I didn’t even know I hadthisplan until I found out she was interested in Mona’s. I guess it’s time to come up with one.
Though in my defense, I didn’t have a plan with her all those years ago either. Yes, I thought she was smart. And pretty. And I wanted to get to know her. But there was no grand plan to courting her. There was no method to my madness. I was just an idiot kid who thought his shit didn’t stink, trying to get a date with the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
Bug doesn’t even look up from her textbook. “Not going out with you.”
I dramatically throw my hand over my heart, which makes her look up from the textbook she’s studying from. “One, how dare you think that’s how I would ask you out. And two, how do you know that’s what I was asking?”
She slams her highlighter down and gives me a scathing look. “Because every time we study you ask me out. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s direct. Sometimes it’s vague, like today. But every time I say no, that does not change.”
“I’m hurt,” I say sarcastically. Though I kind of am, which of course I’ll never admit to anyone. “Why do you say no?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I think we’d have fun. I like you. I think you tolerate me, which means you actually love me.”
“I do NOT love you.”
“So you say.” I close her textbook and push it to the other side of the table we’re at in the library. “Come on, Bug. What would you like to do? Whatever you want. Nothing too big or small.”
This makes her pause, and I watch as her eyes light up in what I can only describe as mischief. “Whatever I want?”
Her smile makes me excited. And also slightly nervous. “Whatever you want.”
“Okay.” She inches a little closer. “Sunday night is WrestleMania.”
“WrestleMania?” I mean, I knew that, but I didn’t expect Bug to know.
“You heard me. My brother and I go watch it every year at a local sports bar. He’s on a class trip so he can’t make it. I don’t want to miss it, and if you really want to take me out, that’s what we’re doing. But it’s not a date. It’s two mutual acquaintances hanging out and one of them is paying. That’s you.”
I can’t help but smile as I realize this is actually going to happen. I never expected it to take months to get Bug to say yes, and honestly, after a while, asking her out just became part of our interactions. We study together at least once a week, and every day she’s working I go visit her at Perks.
Like her nickname, that girl has crawled under my skin. Except I like it, and I don’t want her to leave.
Which is strange on so many levels. I haven’t dated anyone seriously since I came to college, and I didn’t think I wanted to. Playing the field and doing my own thing suits me.
Then I met Bug and…I don’t know…something about her intrigued me. And the more I get to know her, the more intrigued I become.
Take today. I shouldn’t be shocked she is proposing something out of left field. In every way, shape, or form, she’s not like the other girls on campus I’ve gone out with. Those girls are the stereotypical sorority girls—decked from head to toe in designer clothing, worried that a salad will make them gain five pounds. Blonde hair so white it makes your eyes hurt.
Then there’s Bug. Her blonde hair is on the darker side, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it down. It’s always thrown on top of her head in an adorable, messy heap. I don’t think she owns a piece of clothing that’s name brand, but I know the T-shirts she wears hug her full chest and drive me insane. If I had told any other girl they could pick whatever and wherever for a date, they’d suggest a high-end restaurant that would make my dad give me a lecture when he saw the credit card bill. But Bug? No. She wants wings, beer, and grown men wrestling.
I think I love this woman, and I still don’t even know her name.
“It’s settled,” I say. “Sunday night. Date night.”
“Not a date.”
“Fine, I won’t call it a date under one condition.”
She sighs. “I’ve backed myself into a corner, haven’t I?”
I flash her a smile and lean down on my elbows. “Yes, you have.”
