Love to Hate You

Recipe for Hate

As soon as I walked through the door, I burst into tears. Robin had been so upset with me, and rightfully so.

My mom was, of course, not home, so I went to my room and curled up into a ball to cry. I couldn't believe I hadn't told Robin. I had been so wrapped up in my stupid butterflies that I had left out one of the most important people in my life. And she was right about the reason why – I knew she wouldn't approve. Because why would she?

Eddie had tortured me for years. He was cruel to the point of being sadistic with me – I remember once he had convinced one of the burn out girls he was seeing at the time to steal all of my clothes when I was in the gym showers. I stood in the locker room, shivering and wrapped in a towel, until Coach Mathis was able to find spare clothes from the lost and found that were too big. Another time, Eddie spent a month intentionally seeking me out to trip me – once I had even fallen into an open locker, hitting my face on the metal door.

And yes, I returned it – I was sharp with my words, insulting him at any chance I could get. But it was always in retaliation, protecting myself and steeling myself for the next barrage of torture. And Robin had been by my side through all of it, protecting me when she could and encouraging me when the bullying was bad.

Why did I like Eddie?

I know I told Robin that he had apologized, but was she right? Was it enough? I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling, a horrifying thought creeping in.

Was this a new torture tactic that Eddie had devised?

His other bullying I could handle – I had built a thick shield of armor to protect myself from those attacks and they were annoying at most now. But I wouldn't be able to come back from the devastation of this being an act that he put on to have me lower my defenses. I cried harder at that thought – was the boy who had given me butterflies for the last couple of days simply a mask for a cruel man?

I cried so hard until I drifted off, my thoughts plaguing me and making my grief worse. I woke to knocking at my window. I shot up, looking at the clock. 10:23PM.

I looked out the window and smiled in spite of myself. Eddie was outside of the window, holding up a grocery bag. I crossed to the window and opened it.

"I know you wanted to be alone, but I hated how sad you were," he explained. I nodded and gestured for him to come in. He clambered into my room, almost tripping over his boots. Once he was in, I closed the window and turned to him. He smiled sweetly and closed the distance between our lips. I melted into him in spite of my racing thoughts. He pulled back and wiped my face with one of his calloused hands, wrapping his other arm around me.

"You okay, princess?" he asked quietly, his eyes full of concern. If this was an act, he was incredible at putting on a show. I shook my head and he frowned before kissing my forehead. He reached for the bag he had set on ground and held it up as an offering. "I brought candy."

I smiled at him, and he led me to my bed, pulling me into his arms and opening the bag. He handed me a chocolate bar and squeezed me close to him. I tried to eat it but couldn't stomach more than a few bites. I handed it back to him, and he kissed the top of my head.

"I hate that you're this sad," he said quietly. Did you, though, Eddie? Or was this all part of your plan?

"Yeah," I replied. He hooked his finger under my chin and pulled my face to his. He watched me intently.

"What's wrong?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I'm upset about Robin," I answered, telling a half-truth. He shook his head.

"No, you're off. What's wrong?" he pushed, his voice quiet and low. I felt tears well in my eyes and looked at him.

"I don't know, Eddie. I'm really confused."

"What's there to be confused about, Vic?" he asked, his voice kind and concerned.

"This," I said. His eyes widened.

"You mean us?"

I looked away, my face flushing as tears started dropping from my eyes.

"Eddie, I'm not going to be able to handle it if this is just an act for you."

"What? You think—"

"You used to torture me, Eddie," I snapped, looking at him. His face was one of shock and confusion. "You used to torture me so bad that there were days where I had to force myself to go to school."

"I thought we talked about this, I'm still so sorry—"

"And then when I finally get to a place where you're insults and tactics don't hurt as much as they used to, you decide to kiss me at a party where I'm on a date," I interrupted. My thoughts were spilling out now, almost like word vomit.

"Victoria, I like you. I really like you," he insisted. I turned away again. I was still wrapped in his arms, not wanting to move, my butterflies and my brain at war. "I promise this isn't an act for me."

"I don't know how to prove that though, Eddie," I sobbed, tears flowing. "Maybe Robin was right – maybe this can't work."

"Please don't say that, Vic. Please."

"It's a reality, Eddie," I said, still not looking at him. He took my face in his hands – his eyes were full of hurt and sadness.

"It's not – what can I do to prove it to you? Please, I'll do anything," he begged. I watched him, still crying,

Before I could answer, Eddie kissed me. It was a desperate kiss, full of passion and desire. I kissed him back, my butterflies winning the war against my brain. He started peppering my face with kisses, kissing my eyes and cheeks, almost as if he was trying to will my tears away. He littered my jaw with sweet kisses, rolling my turtleneck down to access my neck. He wasn't leaving his normal love bites; he was being sweet and chaste. He came back to my lips, placing me on my back and hovering over me, not giving me a second to pull away to finish the conversation.

"Please, what can I do?" he asked between kisses. My head was foggy and I was full of confusion. He wouldn't let me answer, kissing me harder and deeper. He pressed into me, his tall, lanky body overwhelming me. He bit at my earlobe, and I gasped, finally getting clarity.

"Eddie, please don't," I said, placing my hands on his chest. He stopped immediately, looking down at me.

"Don't, Vic," he begged quietly. I wiped my tears away.

"I just need some space to think," I explained. He buried his face in my neck, staying still. I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a hug. I felt something wet on my neck – was Eddie crying?

"Vic, I promise this isn't an act," he said into my neck. I kissed his cheek and pulled him back. His eyes were glistening and sad.

"I just need a little space, Eddie. Please, I need to figure my own shit out," I explained. I wanted to believe him so bad – I really did. But a small part of me remembered how I felt that day I walked out of the boy's bathroom and Jason Carver asked me for a blow job.

Eddie got up, sitting on the edge of my bed, his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Victoria," he said quietly. I sat up and rubbed his back.

"Eddie, just a little space. Please," I asked. He looked at me and nodded, standing up. He came over to me and kissed my forehead, keeping his lips there for a beat. I closed my eyes and tried to will my tears away.

"I'll see you around, Icky," Eddie said, not looking at me as he went back to my window to crawl out. I watched him, trying not to sob. As soon as he left, I threw myself onto the bed, crying harder than I had ever cried before.