I Hate You, I Love You Part 1 - Bailey B_ Page 0,2
face. Tad falls off the table and clutches his cheek like the little bitch that he is. Serves him right. Piper is family and you don’t fuck with family.
I sit on top of the table again and light another cigarette to calm my nerves. I’m anxious, full of unused adrenaline and need something to take my mind off stomping Tad’s face into the pavement.
“Fuck!” Tad yells, but anyone within earshot has gone back to talking with their table mates. Everyone on campus knows that if you fuck with Piper, talk to Piper, hell even look at Piper the wrong way, you’ll face the wrath of Cooper. He’s more protective of her than a starved watchdog with a steak.
Our principal, Mr. White, grabs Cooper by the arm and escorts him to the office with Tad in tow. Mom’s going to be pissed when he gets suspended for the rest of the day but she’ll understand. She always does. Cooper spends more time out of school than in and she barely bats an eye. But when I get in trouble, all hell breaks loose.
Melody groans and rolls her eyes. “Always with the drama.”
From my peripheral vision, I see Gunner make himself comfortable next to Danika. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her, the way he’s whispering into her ear. How she playfully shoves him and they both laugh. I have no right to be pissed, but just being around her sets me on edge.
Besides, I saw her first.
2
Danika
Compared to the toothpicks on campus, I’m not a tiny girl. At one hundred and fifty pounds my hips are thick but I have the ass to go with them. My stomach has more fluff than most, but the double-D’s I’ve been blessed with make my waist and tummy look smaller than it is. I have my assets, and I know how to work them.
That being said, I don’t openly flaunt what I’ve got. I make it a point to cover up because guys, young and old, have gawked at me since I was eleven years old. Back then, my figure seemed to develop overnight and I didn’t know how to handle it. Logan was good about not making a big deal of my body.
I knew who Logan was the second I laid eyes on him. My heart soared when I realized Sarah and I were about to sit at the same table. Even more so when I realized that he had friends.
Logan was always a social loner. Any time Cooper was around, Logan was surrounded by people. But the moment Cooper was sick or anywhere Logan wasn’t, those friends disappeared. Everyone wanted to be around the smooth-talking football prodigy, not the quirky kid with a speech impediment.
All things considered, I’m not surprised Logan outgrew his awkward stage. It helps that he’s absolutely gorgeous, but he’s always been cute. From what I can tell, both Harris boys have long, lean bodies, muscled in such a way you know they still play some kind of sport. While Cooper’s hair is the color of gold and buzzed short. Logan has locks so dark they’re almost black that fall into his eyes. Sitting on top of the table at lunch, he looks like a living sculpture. Too beautiful to be real. Too flawless to be human. In California, I’d have argued that no one looks that good unless they’ve had work done, and yet Logan defies my logic.
I shake my head, still stunned that little Logan Harris has turned into the kind of man my mother warned me about. Dark and magnetic. Every fiber in my being is drawn to him with a pull I’ve never felt before. Mom said she’d only felt an attraction like this once, and it wasn’t to my dad. Their love was pure. Wherever this feeling stems from is dirty. I hate it. I love it.
Too bad Logan doesn’t remember me. Or worse, if he does that means that he consciously chose to be a jerk. Although, I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I’ll have to ask him after school. Perks of being neighbors.
Coach blows his whistle, signaling to get ready. I widen my stance and intertwine my fingers, prepared to hold my own once the first serve is sent over the net. Volleyball is a good sport for big breasted chicks. There’s minimal running, which is great because even with two sports bras my tits go bouncing, and that shit hurts.