Categories > Original > Romance > I Hate You But I Like You
Friday night is Game night at our school and you know what that means, right? Bring your friends and family down to our damn football field, Pali High is gonna whup some asses! Tonight it was time for Richmond High to get the beat down and I was headed to the girl’s locker rooms, which was near the field. I was wearing my cheerleading uniform with pride, particularly happy coz I had won a bout with my Dad a few minutes before I left home. He didn’t want me cheerleading tonight cuz he claims he’s worried I’m overdoing things.
Yeah right. This is coming from the guy who’s been monitoring my every move since my stupid concussion and has taken to sending me to bed my 9pm. Last night, I was chatting with Vanessa and Neicey on MSN at around 10pm and he had the nerve to come into my room, unplug my computer and make me go to sleep because ‘tomorrow is a school night’ he said! It’s getting a bit much now. I mean, it’s been almost two weeks now! Can’t he get over it already? I hate being babied like this. And tonight, he wanted me to stay home instead of coming out here. He waited until I was halfway out of the door and then he was like “and where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
I looked down at my cheerleading outfit and then looked back up at dad, who was standing in the foyer, a newspaper in his hand, giving me a severe look. Well, jeeze.
I struck a pose. “I’m going cheerleading, daddy,” I replied animatedly. “Richmond’s playing our school. We’re gonna kick their – butts.”
Dad’s expression didn’t change.
“I don’t think you should be cheerleading in your condition. You’re doing too much, honey. I personally think you should slow down a bit. Get some sleep,” he said. I stared at him. In my condition? Was I pregnant or something? And I didn’t need sleep! What I needed was to cheerlead, get trophy wife out of my hair and my dad’s bed, and a huge mocha latte. In no particular order.
“Dad. This is one of the most important games of the season. What would people think if the head cheerleader didn’t show?” I asked patiently.
“They would think that you’re recovering from an MTBI,” he replied evenly.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“It was a stupid, minor concussion,” I said through gritted teeth, trying to keep a lid on my temper. The last thing I needed was for dad to ground me.
“Be that as it may,” dad continued, almost as if he hadn’t heard me. “You haven’t had enough time to recuperate. I think you should wait a while before you do anything as strenuous as cheerleading.” He gave me a perfunctory look. “Plus, its cold outside. Don’t you have a jacket?”
Yeah, right.
“Daddy,” I wheedled plaintively. “I have to cheer. Our team won’t get motivated if I’m not there.”
Now, I’m not being conceited (much). It’s true. The entire school relies on me to get the crowd worked up. Once I did six successive handstands and dived into the bleachers when our team was winning. Hmm. Maybe that’s what dad means by strenuous, huh?
“Elektra, honey. Be reasonable. You’ve been busy every night this entire week. Do you want to burn yourself out?” dad asked.
“Football players get concussions all the time daddy,” I reminded him gently. “They get taken off the field and they’re back in the game in 5 minutes.”
It’s true, right? So what if they’re big, strong men with helmets on. When they get concussions, they soldier on!
“Have you seen how messed up most football players are?” dad asked me, but I could tell he was gonna relent. And he did. Score Elektra!
So anyway, there I was, en route to the locker room in my skimpy cheerleading outfit and sure enough, it was cold. I had driven over to school in my car and I was early (it was still light out), so I was dawdling down to the field, cuz I was way earlier than everyone else on the cheerleading squad. I was just regretting leaving my jacket at home just to spite dad when I heard someone talking on the phone behind me.
One thing you should know about me is that I’m a nosy person. Very nosy. So I had to turn around and see who it was. Maybe it was a mugger. Or a kidnapper! Better to be safe than sorry, I always say. So, giving myself these lame excuses that enabled me to be as prying as I pleased, I turned around discreetly. I sighed in resignation. It was Spencer.
Of course. Who else could it have been? Seriously speaking, this was beginning to weird me out. It seemed that no matter where I went, he was right behind me. Or something like that. It was just strange.
Spencer spotted me as well and he smiled at me as he walked towards me.
“I gotta go,” he said into his cell. “Yeah, I might call you back. If I feel like it. Kay, bye.”
I felt kinda stupid just standing there, waiting for him to wrap up his conversation. I wondered briefly if he was hanging up just for me or whether he was really done with whomever he had talking to, then I almost slapped myself. Stupid, vain Elektra! There's no way he would stop talking just cuz he’s seen me! I really wish, though. Not that I like him or anything.
“Hey, you,” he beamed, walking up to me and slipping his cell into the pocket of his jeans. Involuntarily, I felt a huge smile spread over my face. I screamed inwardly. ‘Calm down! Now you’re totally acting like some kinda groupie! You can’t be that glad to see him!’ I told myself sternly. But somehow, I knew I was lying to myself. I was glad to see him. I was actually ecstatic to see him. What the shit was wrong with me?
“Hi,” I said, trying to keep a shake out of my voice.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” Spencer drawled, not moving his eyes from mine. I jutted my chin.
“Are you stalking me?” I joked, putting a hand on my hip. Spencer grinned and those dimples came into view again (sigh).
“I wish,” he replied. “Chris Matthews invited me.”
Chris Matthews? You mean my one time ex Chris Matthews? Oh. Oh.
“Chris, huh? So, you guys are friends?” I asked casually. I wondered briefly if he knew that me and Chris had dated then decided not to bring it up. No way.
“Oh, yeah, we like best friends. We go way back. We met on the first day of pre-school so- that’s a while ago,” he told me.
“Are you sure you’re here for Chris or did you come to get a secret look at me in my cheerleading outfit?” I asked coyly.
Oh snap. Please, someone tell me I wasn’t flirting with Spencer. Please!
Not that Spencer seemed to mind. On the contrary, he looked at me with an amused expression on his face.
“What can I say, I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he said softly.
I shivered. I really shivered. And not because of the cold, either. I wasn’t even feeling the cold actually; my face was burning too much for that.
I should have stopped right there. But I opened my mouth again; my big, over active mouth, and said “Why are you such a flirt?”
Okay, so he prolly deserved that. He is a huge flirt after all. But then why did he look so shocked?
“Me? A flirt? Naw,” he replied, pointing to himself and then laughing.
“You are too a flirt,” I insisted, wrapping my arms around myself as a sudden gust of wind chilled me.
“If I really am a flirt, I don’t flirt with just anybody, you know,” he replied cheerfully. I tossed my head.
“Excuse me if I find it difficult to believe that,” I said disdainfully.
“For real. I only flirt with people I like,” he said. I stared up at him, into his eyes and he looked back at me, his face wearing a most serious expression. I shook my head slightly and let out a strained laugh. I decided to change the subject before I lost control of my big mouth again. My mom used to say that I never thought before I spoke. I guess that’s true most of the time.
“Play the piano lately?” I asked, grasping the first thing that came into my mind, apart from Spencer’s ripped abs. It was a feeble topic, but Spencer’s face lit up like magic.
“Oh yeah, actually, I’m just coming from practice. I teach some kids how to play in Long Beach. You know, volunteer work and shit. I’m sorta like a Big Brother. Now, ain't those kids lucky?” he asked me, winking at me cockily.
As if he could be any more desirable. Now he teaches kids piano lessons? For free? Shit.
I laughed in spite of myself. This guy was extreme.
“You’re so full of yourself,” I giggled.
He raised his eyebrows at me with that half smile on his face again and said “Like I said before, only when I want to impress someone.”
I stared at him.
“Are you trying to impress me?” I asked before I even knew that my mouth was open and I was talking. Oh, fuckity.
“Yeah. Is it working?” he asked intriguingly. I was thrown, quite literally. Out of all the things I would have expected him to say, it definitely wasn’t that.
I seemed to be on autopilot. What else could explain what I said next?
“Try harder.”
Spencer gave me a slow, complete once over, starting from my feet (thank God I wasn’t wearing my hobowear) all the way up to my face. His eyes lingered on my lips for a long moment and I repressed the urge to lick them. How could this guy, this overconfident, aggravating guy, posses the power to turn me on so much? I didn’t want to like him, coz I knew his type, but he was irresistible. The bad thing was, he didn’t even know! He had no idea that he reduced me to a blob of jelly every time I saw him. Pfft. Guys.
“You look so fucking sexy in that outfit,” he said suddenly.
Oh God.
I just stared at him, opening and closing my mouth like a fish. Did he really just say that? Did he or was that just wishful thinking on my part?
“Did that work?” he asked, a playful smile on his face. I finally found my voice.
“Did you mean it?” I whispered so quietly he had to lean in closer to me in order to hear me.
“Definitely. I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he said. He leaned in closer and closer until our noses were brushing and he was looking into my eyes and I swear he was about to kiss me when suddenly I heard a voice behind us.
“I know that’s you, Elektra, I can see that apple bottom!”
Vanessa Sanchez, Queen of Tactlessness. It was just like her to make her entrance at this moment. I know the bitch is my BFF but I felt like strangling her!
Then again, she’d kept me from making a mistake I might have regretted. I can just imagine Spencer telling his boys ‘and I moved in to kiss her and she just grabbed on to me. I thought she was gonna rape me or something!’ I suddenly felt disgusted with myself and backed away from Spencer, who was looking over his shoulder, everything he had just said prolly forgotten. Jerk.
“Friend of yours?” he asked me, a wry smile on his face. I nodded curtly, willing myself to stop feeling so let down. What was so special about him anyway? Jeeze.
Vanessa skipped up, looking beautiful as usual in a pair of tight ass jeans and a silver tank top.
“Elektra, you big- ooh. I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” she asked, oblivious to the sexual tension around us. She gave Spencer a dazzling smile and gave me a ‘whoa, who is this hunk?’ look.
“No,” I answered through gritted teeth. To make matters worse, Spencer was totally checking Vanessa out, his eyes traveling her body slowly and languidly. I felt like screaming. Why me?
“So,” Vanessa said, turning her full attention to Spencer, “Who are you? You’ll have to excuse Elektra; sometimes she doesn’t have any manners.”
“I’m Spencer. Spencer Anthony. Nice to meet you,” Spencer said courteously, extending his hand for Vanessa to shake. Vanessa’s eyes widened as she checked Spencer out as well, less discreetly.
“I’m Vanessa, Elektra's best friend. So, you’re Spencer, huh? Elektra’s told me all about you,” she said, patting his shoulder flirtatiously. I almost gagged. This was getting annoying. Spencer shot me a wry glance before turning his full focus back to Vanessa. He gave her a big smile and Vanessa simpered.
“Good things, I hope,” he replied.
“Well, she said you were a nice guy once she could get past the arrogant, playa type of image you put across –“ Vanessa started.
“Vanessa, sweetie,” I cut in. Vanessa and Spencer both looked at me as if just remembering that I was still here. I gave a sickly sweet smile. “I’m quite sure that Spencer doesn’t care about any of that.”
Spencer had that annoying amused expression on his face again.
“Actually, I’d kinda like to hear more. I’m intrigued,” he said evenly. I rolled my eyes and wished I hadn’t as Vanessa burst out into peals of laughter.
“I think I’d better get down to the lockers,” I said through clenched teeth. I was pissed. The bad thing is, I didn’t know why I was pissed, I just was.
“Okay. Come on Spencer, I’ll show you the best spot to sit in the bleachers. You are on our team’s side, aren’t you?” Vanessa asked him, linking her arm in his.
“For certain,” Spencer replied easily.
I drew Vanessa to the side and whispered menacingly in her ear “Talk about me and you’re dead.”
“I’m not gonna talk about you when I can talk about me,” Vanessa said. “Why are you so mad anyway? You said you don’t like him!”
“I’m not mad,” I spat. “Just- stop hanging over his ass!”
“His fine ass,” Vanessa corrected me, looking over to where Spencer stood a few meters away from us.
“Please, Van. Just- don’t say anything about what I told you guys about him,” I begged. Like I ever needed that to come out.
Vanessa sighed and shrugged.
“Okay, okay! Now, let me go,” she said testily, wriggling out of my grip. She skipped back to Spencer’s side and started to drag him in the direction of the bleachers.
“And no stories of me when I was under 10!” I yelled after them.
“See you later, Elektra! Good luck!” Spencer said over his shoulder as they walked away. I sighed.
“Thanks,” I muttered and trudged down to the field. I didn’t know why I felt such a mixture of fury, disappointment and sadness. I didn’t like the guy! For all I cared, he could get married to Vanessa! So why did I feel the urge to cry? Me, Elektra West, who never cries? Fuck, I must be getting soft.
Yeah right. This is coming from the guy who’s been monitoring my every move since my stupid concussion and has taken to sending me to bed my 9pm. Last night, I was chatting with Vanessa and Neicey on MSN at around 10pm and he had the nerve to come into my room, unplug my computer and make me go to sleep because ‘tomorrow is a school night’ he said! It’s getting a bit much now. I mean, it’s been almost two weeks now! Can’t he get over it already? I hate being babied like this. And tonight, he wanted me to stay home instead of coming out here. He waited until I was halfway out of the door and then he was like “and where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
I looked down at my cheerleading outfit and then looked back up at dad, who was standing in the foyer, a newspaper in his hand, giving me a severe look. Well, jeeze.
I struck a pose. “I’m going cheerleading, daddy,” I replied animatedly. “Richmond’s playing our school. We’re gonna kick their – butts.”
Dad’s expression didn’t change.
“I don’t think you should be cheerleading in your condition. You’re doing too much, honey. I personally think you should slow down a bit. Get some sleep,” he said. I stared at him. In my condition? Was I pregnant or something? And I didn’t need sleep! What I needed was to cheerlead, get trophy wife out of my hair and my dad’s bed, and a huge mocha latte. In no particular order.
“Dad. This is one of the most important games of the season. What would people think if the head cheerleader didn’t show?” I asked patiently.
“They would think that you’re recovering from an MTBI,” he replied evenly.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“It was a stupid, minor concussion,” I said through gritted teeth, trying to keep a lid on my temper. The last thing I needed was for dad to ground me.
“Be that as it may,” dad continued, almost as if he hadn’t heard me. “You haven’t had enough time to recuperate. I think you should wait a while before you do anything as strenuous as cheerleading.” He gave me a perfunctory look. “Plus, its cold outside. Don’t you have a jacket?”
Yeah, right.
“Daddy,” I wheedled plaintively. “I have to cheer. Our team won’t get motivated if I’m not there.”
Now, I’m not being conceited (much). It’s true. The entire school relies on me to get the crowd worked up. Once I did six successive handstands and dived into the bleachers when our team was winning. Hmm. Maybe that’s what dad means by strenuous, huh?
“Elektra, honey. Be reasonable. You’ve been busy every night this entire week. Do you want to burn yourself out?” dad asked.
“Football players get concussions all the time daddy,” I reminded him gently. “They get taken off the field and they’re back in the game in 5 minutes.”
It’s true, right? So what if they’re big, strong men with helmets on. When they get concussions, they soldier on!
“Have you seen how messed up most football players are?” dad asked me, but I could tell he was gonna relent. And he did. Score Elektra!
So anyway, there I was, en route to the locker room in my skimpy cheerleading outfit and sure enough, it was cold. I had driven over to school in my car and I was early (it was still light out), so I was dawdling down to the field, cuz I was way earlier than everyone else on the cheerleading squad. I was just regretting leaving my jacket at home just to spite dad when I heard someone talking on the phone behind me.
One thing you should know about me is that I’m a nosy person. Very nosy. So I had to turn around and see who it was. Maybe it was a mugger. Or a kidnapper! Better to be safe than sorry, I always say. So, giving myself these lame excuses that enabled me to be as prying as I pleased, I turned around discreetly. I sighed in resignation. It was Spencer.
Of course. Who else could it have been? Seriously speaking, this was beginning to weird me out. It seemed that no matter where I went, he was right behind me. Or something like that. It was just strange.
Spencer spotted me as well and he smiled at me as he walked towards me.
“I gotta go,” he said into his cell. “Yeah, I might call you back. If I feel like it. Kay, bye.”
I felt kinda stupid just standing there, waiting for him to wrap up his conversation. I wondered briefly if he was hanging up just for me or whether he was really done with whomever he had talking to, then I almost slapped myself. Stupid, vain Elektra! There's no way he would stop talking just cuz he’s seen me! I really wish, though. Not that I like him or anything.
“Hey, you,” he beamed, walking up to me and slipping his cell into the pocket of his jeans. Involuntarily, I felt a huge smile spread over my face. I screamed inwardly. ‘Calm down! Now you’re totally acting like some kinda groupie! You can’t be that glad to see him!’ I told myself sternly. But somehow, I knew I was lying to myself. I was glad to see him. I was actually ecstatic to see him. What the shit was wrong with me?
“Hi,” I said, trying to keep a shake out of my voice.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” Spencer drawled, not moving his eyes from mine. I jutted my chin.
“Are you stalking me?” I joked, putting a hand on my hip. Spencer grinned and those dimples came into view again (sigh).
“I wish,” he replied. “Chris Matthews invited me.”
Chris Matthews? You mean my one time ex Chris Matthews? Oh. Oh.
“Chris, huh? So, you guys are friends?” I asked casually. I wondered briefly if he knew that me and Chris had dated then decided not to bring it up. No way.
“Oh, yeah, we like best friends. We go way back. We met on the first day of pre-school so- that’s a while ago,” he told me.
“Are you sure you’re here for Chris or did you come to get a secret look at me in my cheerleading outfit?” I asked coyly.
Oh snap. Please, someone tell me I wasn’t flirting with Spencer. Please!
Not that Spencer seemed to mind. On the contrary, he looked at me with an amused expression on his face.
“What can I say, I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he said softly.
I shivered. I really shivered. And not because of the cold, either. I wasn’t even feeling the cold actually; my face was burning too much for that.
I should have stopped right there. But I opened my mouth again; my big, over active mouth, and said “Why are you such a flirt?”
Okay, so he prolly deserved that. He is a huge flirt after all. But then why did he look so shocked?
“Me? A flirt? Naw,” he replied, pointing to himself and then laughing.
“You are too a flirt,” I insisted, wrapping my arms around myself as a sudden gust of wind chilled me.
“If I really am a flirt, I don’t flirt with just anybody, you know,” he replied cheerfully. I tossed my head.
“Excuse me if I find it difficult to believe that,” I said disdainfully.
“For real. I only flirt with people I like,” he said. I stared up at him, into his eyes and he looked back at me, his face wearing a most serious expression. I shook my head slightly and let out a strained laugh. I decided to change the subject before I lost control of my big mouth again. My mom used to say that I never thought before I spoke. I guess that’s true most of the time.
“Play the piano lately?” I asked, grasping the first thing that came into my mind, apart from Spencer’s ripped abs. It was a feeble topic, but Spencer’s face lit up like magic.
“Oh yeah, actually, I’m just coming from practice. I teach some kids how to play in Long Beach. You know, volunteer work and shit. I’m sorta like a Big Brother. Now, ain't those kids lucky?” he asked me, winking at me cockily.
As if he could be any more desirable. Now he teaches kids piano lessons? For free? Shit.
I laughed in spite of myself. This guy was extreme.
“You’re so full of yourself,” I giggled.
He raised his eyebrows at me with that half smile on his face again and said “Like I said before, only when I want to impress someone.”
I stared at him.
“Are you trying to impress me?” I asked before I even knew that my mouth was open and I was talking. Oh, fuckity.
“Yeah. Is it working?” he asked intriguingly. I was thrown, quite literally. Out of all the things I would have expected him to say, it definitely wasn’t that.
I seemed to be on autopilot. What else could explain what I said next?
“Try harder.”
Spencer gave me a slow, complete once over, starting from my feet (thank God I wasn’t wearing my hobowear) all the way up to my face. His eyes lingered on my lips for a long moment and I repressed the urge to lick them. How could this guy, this overconfident, aggravating guy, posses the power to turn me on so much? I didn’t want to like him, coz I knew his type, but he was irresistible. The bad thing was, he didn’t even know! He had no idea that he reduced me to a blob of jelly every time I saw him. Pfft. Guys.
“You look so fucking sexy in that outfit,” he said suddenly.
Oh God.
I just stared at him, opening and closing my mouth like a fish. Did he really just say that? Did he or was that just wishful thinking on my part?
“Did that work?” he asked, a playful smile on his face. I finally found my voice.
“Did you mean it?” I whispered so quietly he had to lean in closer to me in order to hear me.
“Definitely. I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he said. He leaned in closer and closer until our noses were brushing and he was looking into my eyes and I swear he was about to kiss me when suddenly I heard a voice behind us.
“I know that’s you, Elektra, I can see that apple bottom!”
Vanessa Sanchez, Queen of Tactlessness. It was just like her to make her entrance at this moment. I know the bitch is my BFF but I felt like strangling her!
Then again, she’d kept me from making a mistake I might have regretted. I can just imagine Spencer telling his boys ‘and I moved in to kiss her and she just grabbed on to me. I thought she was gonna rape me or something!’ I suddenly felt disgusted with myself and backed away from Spencer, who was looking over his shoulder, everything he had just said prolly forgotten. Jerk.
“Friend of yours?” he asked me, a wry smile on his face. I nodded curtly, willing myself to stop feeling so let down. What was so special about him anyway? Jeeze.
Vanessa skipped up, looking beautiful as usual in a pair of tight ass jeans and a silver tank top.
“Elektra, you big- ooh. I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” she asked, oblivious to the sexual tension around us. She gave Spencer a dazzling smile and gave me a ‘whoa, who is this hunk?’ look.
“No,” I answered through gritted teeth. To make matters worse, Spencer was totally checking Vanessa out, his eyes traveling her body slowly and languidly. I felt like screaming. Why me?
“So,” Vanessa said, turning her full attention to Spencer, “Who are you? You’ll have to excuse Elektra; sometimes she doesn’t have any manners.”
“I’m Spencer. Spencer Anthony. Nice to meet you,” Spencer said courteously, extending his hand for Vanessa to shake. Vanessa’s eyes widened as she checked Spencer out as well, less discreetly.
“I’m Vanessa, Elektra's best friend. So, you’re Spencer, huh? Elektra’s told me all about you,” she said, patting his shoulder flirtatiously. I almost gagged. This was getting annoying. Spencer shot me a wry glance before turning his full focus back to Vanessa. He gave her a big smile and Vanessa simpered.
“Good things, I hope,” he replied.
“Well, she said you were a nice guy once she could get past the arrogant, playa type of image you put across –“ Vanessa started.
“Vanessa, sweetie,” I cut in. Vanessa and Spencer both looked at me as if just remembering that I was still here. I gave a sickly sweet smile. “I’m quite sure that Spencer doesn’t care about any of that.”
Spencer had that annoying amused expression on his face again.
“Actually, I’d kinda like to hear more. I’m intrigued,” he said evenly. I rolled my eyes and wished I hadn’t as Vanessa burst out into peals of laughter.
“I think I’d better get down to the lockers,” I said through clenched teeth. I was pissed. The bad thing is, I didn’t know why I was pissed, I just was.
“Okay. Come on Spencer, I’ll show you the best spot to sit in the bleachers. You are on our team’s side, aren’t you?” Vanessa asked him, linking her arm in his.
“For certain,” Spencer replied easily.
I drew Vanessa to the side and whispered menacingly in her ear “Talk about me and you’re dead.”
“I’m not gonna talk about you when I can talk about me,” Vanessa said. “Why are you so mad anyway? You said you don’t like him!”
“I’m not mad,” I spat. “Just- stop hanging over his ass!”
“His fine ass,” Vanessa corrected me, looking over to where Spencer stood a few meters away from us.
“Please, Van. Just- don’t say anything about what I told you guys about him,” I begged. Like I ever needed that to come out.
Vanessa sighed and shrugged.
“Okay, okay! Now, let me go,” she said testily, wriggling out of my grip. She skipped back to Spencer’s side and started to drag him in the direction of the bleachers.
“And no stories of me when I was under 10!” I yelled after them.
“See you later, Elektra! Good luck!” Spencer said over his shoulder as they walked away. I sighed.
“Thanks,” I muttered and trudged down to the field. I didn’t know why I felt such a mixture of fury, disappointment and sadness. I didn’t like the guy! For all I cared, he could get married to Vanessa! So why did I feel the urge to cry? Me, Elektra West, who never cries? Fuck, I must be getting soft.
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