Page 16 of Hate You, Maybe
Kendal
Is that a yes?
Me
Sure. NP.
The truth is, a couple packages of Huggies wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve bought for my sisters. Back in high school, I had a part-time job at the general store downtown, and I got stuck getting tampons and Midol for them on pretty much a monthly basis.
Kendal
U R MY HERO. Thank you thank you thank you.
When she texts me a picture of two diaper packages for the brand and sizes, I congratulate myself once again for the decision tonothave children of my own. My plan is to be the best uncle anyone’s ever had. Plus my students are like my kids, with the bonus of not having to raise them.
Besides that, I get all the love and connection I need from the people already in my life. No need to add unnecessary complications.
Unnecessary heartache.
Still, I’ve got pizza waiting for me at Amici’s that’s not gonna eat itself. So I’m in a hurry when I dart into the nearest store and make a beeline for the diaper aisle. Coming around the corner, I crash into a shopping cart, which then slams into the person crouched on the other side.
“Ouch!” a woman yelps. Then Sayla Kroft pops up, holding three different boxes of tampons.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. A peek in her cart reveals a box ofCap’n Crunch, one bag of salt & vinegar chips, and a bulk package of Hershey bars. When her cheeks go red, I stick a smile on my face.
A peace offering, if you will.
“I get it,” I say. “I’ve got sisters.”
Without a word, she fumbles to replace two of the extra boxes on the shelf, but drops all three of them in the process. So I quickly round the cart, and when I squat down to help her, our hands brush. The contact lasts only an instant, but electricity crackles through my body. Just like in the weight room.
“Thanks,” she says, averting her eyes. Her throat goes blotchy. Like thanking me is rough for her. We both rise to our feet again, and I try to meet her gaze, offer her a smile, but she keeps her focus on the floor.
“So … I know you’re not exactly thrilled about going on this retreat with me, but …” My voice trails off.
“But what?”
“Maybe we could try to make the experience … not awful.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Do what?”
She lifts her chin. Frowns. “Be nice.”
“Can’t help it,” I say. “Iamnice.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to think.” She huffs out a breath. “But I see how you operate. You act all sweet and helpful and charming, but—” She cuts herself off.
My smile widens to a grin. “You think I’m charming?”
“Fakecharming,” she quips. “There’s always an ulterior motive, though, isn’t there? Something you want to get out of it?”
“Or maybe I’m just a genuinely helpful guy.”
“Well, I’ve managed to get along for twenty-eight years without your help. Withoutanyone’shelp.”
Her jaw shifts, and the moment feels almost vulnerable. Arope of curiosity lassos my insides, but the last thing I need is to get more invested in Sayla Kroft. If she’s got some serious stuff in her history, there’s no way she’d want to share something like that with me. I don’t even delve into my own past with friends and family, the ones who were there in the trenches with me. So there’s no way Sayla’s gonna get honest in the feminine hygiene aisle with someone she hates.
