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I hate you. The words kept dancing around his head, Pran’s expression still so clear on his mind. I hate you, Pran had said, voice filled with anger and something more. Something Pat could not seem to figure out.
People had always been hard to read for Pat. Everyone was too scared, too shy, too careful. Not him. Pat did whatever he wanted and whenever he felt like it. This was his life, no one was going to suffer or enjoy it for him, there was no reason to hold back. He tried to stay out of everyone’s way, knowing how loud and self absorbed he could be.
But for some reason, he always seemed to have no control over himself when Pran was around. He became even louder, naughtier, more annoying, and he always seemed to press the right buttons to make such a chill guy like Pran explode.
I hate you, Pran had said, mouth enunciating every single letter in that three word sentence. Pat tried to think of the last time he talked to Pran without trying to annoy him.
The bus stop. That day when he pretended to be a cute girl from engineering, and Pran had played along. That day when Pran joked with him, laughed with him, for the first time after who knows how long. That day when Pat’s chest was filled with joy at sight of his smile.
If you were her, Would you like me? Pat had asked, and then, Pran answered. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, Pran still disliked him. Pran still had a shield around him, protecting himself from Pat. He couldn’t understand why Pran won’t let him in. Pat just wants to go back to the way they were.
Except, that’s not entirely true. Pat knows he wants more. He wants everything. He wants to eat lunch together, go to each other’s house to play video games and text him without having to hide his phone from his friends. He wanted to have Pran in his life. Sometimes, he didn’t understand why he wanted it that badly, but there was no use in thinking about that; Pran barely tolerates him.
I hate you. Pat heard Pran’s bed creek. He was fully asleep now, Pat could tell by the deep sighs that he let out. Even though he was sure, he didn’t dare to open his eyes, too afraid that the image of Pran smiling at him would slip out of his mind. That same smile that was directed at Ink just hours ago. Pat remembers how his chest filled with something dangerously close to jealousy.
He wasn’t the jealous type, too confident to ever show the smallest insecurity, but he knew he wasn’t happy. I like Ink, he had decided earlier today. That’s why I’m feeling this way. There was no other explanation for this sudden emotion.
Even when he had known her for years and never felt anything, something must have changed. She was beautiful, kind, and a good friend. She had long, silky hair and a beautiful smile. No dimples, though. He always knew that was something he liked. An adorable person with cute features.
Girl. An adorable girl with cute features.
Pat rubbed his face. He needed to sleep. He has to get back home early if he wants to catch Pa and ask her for the spare key before she goes to school. Even the thought of having to get up early made him tired.
Pat felt his eyelids heavy, his body finally relaxing. He could even hear his own breathing. And then, faintly: I hate you.
And Pat answered. Please don’t.