HATE CRUSH Read online

  “There’s not a problem, Mr. Carter. I’m sorry we interrupted your class. Louisa was just giving me a present for my birthday on Friday. I’ll be eighteen. Totally legal. I mean, an adult.”

  Oh God, why am I still talking? Now Mr. Carter is practically scowling at me, and somehow, I’ve only managed to irritate him even more. How is it possible this man can make me shiver with a single look from across the room?

  “Louisa, take your seat.” He returns to the front of the classroom. “Are there any other disruptions that can’t possibly wait until school hours finish?”

  Nobody volunteers for that suicide mission, so Mr. Carter walks to the door to shut it. Once he’s satisfied with the tomblike state of the room, he continues. “Open your books to page sixty and retrieve your essays.”

  Everyone shuffles around in their bags and pulls out their things while I quietly look through my binder one more time. But there’s nothing. Nada. I’m so fucked. I open my book to page sixty and hope by some miracle he won’t notice, but I should know miracles in his class don’t exist.

  “Stella LeClaire, you’re first. Stand and read your essay to the class.”

  A bead of sweat tickles the back of my neck as I remain in my seat, unmoving. It’s bad enough that I have to say it out loud. I don’t want to stand while I do it.

  “Is there a problem?” He slides a pencil between his masculine fingers. Fingers that could so easily crush that frail instrument, and me.

  “I don’t have my assignment, sir. I’m sorry. It appears that it went missing from my bag at lunch time.”

  “It appears you seem to be full of excuses,” he bites back. “In fact, from what I’ve gathered over the last week, Miss LeClaire, you don’t seem ready to put in the effort required for this class. So why are you even here?”

  His words sting, and I swallow down the shame I feel as I try to find an answer to that question. But the truth is, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing in this class, or any of the others. Or where I’m supposed to go to college. Or what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. And it’s all too overwhelming to think about. So instead, I remain silent. A silent participant in my life. And every day, I die a little more inside. Does Sebastian see it? Does he care?

  “Take the day to consider it,” he says. “And only come back again when you are prepared.”

  With that cold dismissal, I have my answer.

  BY THE TIME detention rolls around, I’m strung tighter than a fiddle. Mr. Carter waits for me inside, silent and apathetic to my obvious emotional plight as I sit down in the desk directly facing him. I take two deep breaths and work up the courage to plead the case that I’ve been preparing over the last two periods.

  “Mr. Carter?”

  He barely acknowledges me, instead, keeping his attention on the stack of papers in front of him. “Yes, Miss LeClaire?”

  “Stella,” I correct. “Okay, I’m just Stella. You know this. I know this.”

  He drops his pen and looks up at me. “You might want to think twice about whatever you’re about to say.”

  “You had your thumb on my lips,” I tell him. “I felt your body against me. I kneeled before you. So, I think we can skip the formalities from now on, can’t we?”

  The corner of his lip turns up in predatory amusement. “Are you trying to blackmail me, Stella?”

  “No, of course not. I just want to talk to you without feeling…” I wave my hands around, trying to convey my emotions. “Like this. I know you’re still mad at me about the pond, and you’re punishing me for it. That’s what today in class was about, wasn’t it?”

  “Today in class was about you not being able to stand up for yourself.” He clips the words out, and then instantly looks as if he regrets them.

  “You wanted me to out Louisa in front of the entire class?” I ask in disbelief. “Why not just give her a loaded shotgun while I’m at it.”

  “Girls like Louisa win as long as you let them.”

  “And what would you have done had I outed her?” I challenge. “Humiliate me in front of the entire class?”

  “I would have punished her.”

  The way he says punished her sends an irrational jolt of jealousy through me, and I don’t like it. I don’t like thinking of Mr. Carter punishing anyone else. Or touching anyone else. In my mind, those things are only for me. He can see it on my face, and he likes it. He likes my jealousy. He likes it so much I bet his cock is hard beneath his desk right now, and all I can think about is crawling to him to worship at his feet and beg for forgiveness.

  “Mr. Carter.” My voice breaks as I work up the courage to ask him the most dangerous question I can think of. “Would it make you feel better if you punished me?”

  He sucks in a breath, and his eyes pool with darkness as he steeples his palms on the table in front of him. “And how would I do that, Stella?”

  “However you want.”

  Our eyes lock, and silence fills the space between us. My heart is beating so hard it feels like a gunshot inside my chest cavity. I want him to touch me again. I want him to tell me how bad I am and make me pay for it. I’m pretty sure this isn’t normal, but I don’t care. I want him to do depraved things with me.

  “You have no idea what you’re asking for.” He gets up, but instead of coming for me, he just stands there. “You don’t even know what you want.”

  “Yes, I do,” I whisper.

  “Tell me, then,” he commands. “Tell me what your place is in this school, Stella. Tell me what your future looks like. Tell me how getting onto the cheer squad is going to solve all of your problems.”

  My eyebrows knit together. I didn’t realize we were having Research class all over again, but here we are. And he’s right. I don’t know the answers to those questions.

  “I don’t know about any of those things,” I admit. “But I know what I want right now.”

  “Right now, you want to discuss how you’re going to make up your grade for the essay you failed to turn in today,” he redirects the conversation, and my frustration compounds.

  “How am I going to do that?”

  “You are going to turn in a three-page essay on the consequences of choices. Tomorrow morning, in my office at seven thirty.”

  “But I have cheer practice tonight,” I protest.

  “Choices and consequences,” he repeats without mercy. “Better make it a good one, Stella.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  STELLA

  WHEN I SHOW up to cheer practice, Sybil squeals in excitement, but I don’t feel the same. I’m still not sure what I’m doing here. What Mr. Carter said was true. I have no idea what my place in this school is, or what my future looks like, and I’m almost eighteen. Shouldn’t I at least have some of it figured out by now?

  I fumble my way through the routine, but in the back of my mind, all I can think about is my essay and what I’m going to write. It only gets worse when I notice Mr. Carter walking across the quad after soccer practice. His eyes lock onto me, and he looks disappointed. Or angry. I can’t be sure which because I can never tell with him. But either way, it’s obvious he’s displeased.

  I feel like he’s trying to tell me something about the path I’m on. Like I’m heading for disaster unless I figure it out soon. But that doesn’t make any logical sense. I know from the Google stalking I did that he was raised in an affluent family, and he’s the heir to a luxury resort chain. Sebastian went to the best schools, and I have no doubt he faced the same pressures I did. So why does it always seem like he’s contradicting what Loyola stands for. Excellence in education. Bright futures. As I consider their motto, it also occurs to me how rigid the definition is. What exactly is a bright future? Is any job less important than another?

  All of these thoughts make my head hurt, and Sybil notices when I’m not giving it my all. She isn’t thrilled when we finally stop for the night.

  “What is going on with you, Cherrybomb?” She studies me with concern. “You were all over the place.”

  “I know.” I wipe my forehead with a towel. “I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind, I guess.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks. “We can go grab some dessert and have a girls’ night.”

  “I wish I could,” I groan. “But I have to write a huge essay for Mr. Carter since my assignment went missing. It’s due tomorrow morning.”

  “What an asshole.” She rolls her eyes.

  “I can’t figure him out,” I admit. “One minute, it seems like he’s pushing me because he expects more from me, and the next, he acts like he doesn’t care at all.”

  Sybil gives me a funny look, and I wonder if I said too much. But before we can hash it out, I notice my mother waving me down.

  “Mom?” I walk over to meet her. “Is everything okay?”

  Her lips tighten, and she doesn’t look like her usual self. Sybil seems to notice as well when she darts over to join us. “Hey, Lila. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine, thank you, Sybil.” My mother answers out of politeness, but I can tell something’s up, and I don’t like it. She would never come to visit me on her own. And especially not unless she was dressed to the nines. But right now, it almost looks like she’s in disguise with a giant poncho and huge sunglasses.

  “Stella, I need to speak with you in private. I thought perhaps we could go grab a bite to eat.”

  “I already ate dinner,” I say. “It’s almost eight o’ clock.”

  “Well, dessert then. It’s important.”

  “Is Dad here too?”

  She shakes her head. It feels weird going somewhere with just my mother since we barely speak. But I know she wouldn’t be here unless she had something big to tell me. I look at Sybil, wishing I coul
d drag her along with me, but I know that’s not an option. I offer her a weak smile.

  “I’ll catch up with you later?”

  “Okay. Rain check on dessert. I’ll take your stuff back to the dorm.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder and flits off to grab our stuff while my mother and I head for the exit.

  Silence lingers between us until we get onto the street, and she walks toward a car I don’t recognize. A pre-owned Honda Civic. I can’t remember her ever driving before, and to the best of my knowledge, Luis has always chauffeured her around. But here she is walking over to the car as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

  “Hurry up and get in, Stella,” she barks. “It’s humiliating enough that I have to be seen in this. No need to linger.”

  I climb into the passenger seat and stare at her as she pulls out onto the street and drives aimlessly. She said we were going to dessert, but it’s clear that was just another statement to keep up appearances. Instead, we end up at a public park where she parks the car and turns off the ignition.

  “Mom, can you please tell me what’s going on?” I ask. “Is Dad okay?”

  Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel in obvious frustration before she removes the sunglasses that aren’t even necessary in the evening light. To my utter shock, she isn’t wearing a shred of makeup, and it’s obvious from her puffy eyes she’s been crying.

  “I assume since your father left the country with the last of our money, he must be fine.”

  “What?” I stare at her in disbelief. There’s no way that’s true. “That doesn’t even make sense. Why would he do that?”

  “Because, Stella.” She looks out the window. “He’s been embezzling from the company for years. Apparently, he knew the house of cards was about to fall, and he didn’t want to be left standing in the dust when it did.”

  I shake my head on autopilot, intent on denying these awful things she’s trying to tell me. It can’t be true. My father would never…

  “He wouldn’t leave me. And he wouldn’t steal.”

  “He did leave you,” Mom snarls. “And he left me. And now we have nothing. The feds have frozen our bank accounts. They are going to take the house. The cars are already gone. Do you understand, Stella? We have nothing.”

  Tears fill my eyes as I retrieve my phone and dial my father. But I get the shock of my life when the message on the other end tells me the number is no longer in service. I try three more times before my mother finally pries the phone from my hands and turns it off.

  “You won’t even have that much longer.” She nods at the phone she tossed into the console. “It’s only paid until the end of the month, and then I don’t know.”

  Tears splash down my cheeks as I come to accept what she’s telling me. My father abandoned me. The same man who brought me here and told me he put everything on the line for me. And that’s when something else occurs to me.

  “What about my tuition?”

  Mom looks away again, and I know it’s going to be bad. “Your father sent them a check before he left, but it didn’t go through since the last of our funds have been frozen. Honestly, Stella, I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

  “What I’m going to do?” I repeat numbly.

  “Well, you’re almost eighteen,” she says. “Maybe you could explain the situation to the school and ask to work something out.”

  Oh my God. Why would I ever expect anything else? Of course, she’s not going to help me.

  “So I’m just on my own then?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Stella, I can hardly take care of myself,” she huffs. “You know I haven’t worked since I got pregnant with you.”

  Even now, she chooses to throw that in my face. She’s always been quick to remind me that I ruined her career, but at a time like this, when I need her the most, she tries to make me feel guilty for my existence.

  “What are you going to do then?” I ask.

  “I’m going to stay in New York for a while until I figure that out.”

  “With Luis?” I narrow my eyes.

  “It’s none of your concern who I’ll be with.”

  “So that’s just it. You came here to tell me I’m basically on my own and to figure it out?”

  “If you’d like someone to blame, you can thank your father for this mess,” she retorts. “I hope he enjoys his time in prison when they catch him because I’m done with him, and I think you should be too.”

  “There has to be a mistake,” I insist.

  “There is no mistake. Now, if you can’t figure that out, then why don’t you go speak with the school office when you return. I’m sure they can confirm your father’s check bounced. He knew exactly what was going to happen, and he chose to abandon us.”

  My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach as I try to wrap my head around what she’s telling me. I don’t want it to be true, but deep in my heart, I know that it probably is. It’s not like there haven’t been signs. The stress on my father’s face. The long hours in the city. The pressure to keep up the lifestyle my mother so desperately demanded. It all adds up to one thing, and what my mother’s telling me isn’t so farfetched when I piece it together. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less to hear.

  “So just like that. Dad is gone, and you’re leaving too, and I’m on my own.”

  “I’m sorry.” My mother’s voice cracks, and for a split second, I think she will reconsider. At least until she opens her mouth again. “For now, that’s the only option we have. We both have to figure out how to make our own way now.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SEBASTIAN

  GLANCING AT MY WATCH, I check the time and note that I still have twenty minutes before Stella is due in my office. I consider what I asked her to write, and I find that I’m anxious to read her thoughts on the subject. As I’m discovering, there’s a thin line between animosity and obsession when it comes to Stella. I’m having difficulty separating the two.

  I see so much of myself at that age in her. An eagerness to please. Dedication and drive. She obviously doesn’t get the attention she requires from her parents, so she seeks it out through other authority figures. Namely, me. At least, that’s what I like to believe. Contemplating the possibility that she might be just as eager with any of her other teachers makes me feel homicidal.

  Would it make you feel better if you punished me, Mr. Carter?

  She has no idea how much I want to punish her. How many times over the past two weeks I’ve already hate fucked her in my mind. How I’ve imagined her crawling on her knees for me. Ass in the air. Mouth open. I would corrupt her in every possible way if morality wasn’t an issue. But how moral can I really be if I’m intent on breaking her down regardless?

  A knock on my door startles me, and I glance over my shoulder as I finish stuffing papers into the briefcase on the table. Nobody ever comes to my house on campus, so I can’t imagine who it could be. Unless Stella got the locations mixed up. Perhaps she’s intentionally trying to tempt me beyond my control by meeting with me in the sanctuary of my home. But it isn’t Stella on the other side of the door when I open it. Beyond reason, I stand there, numb, as my eyes roam the length of my father’s frame.

  “Sebastian.” He greets me with the same detached manner he’s always possessed. The militant expression on his face is unchanged, even after five long years. “May I come in?”

  The request is a mere formality. Being the man that my father is, he doesn’t wait for a response. He pushes his way inside and makes himself at home at the kitchen table. For a minute, I can’t move. I can’t even blink as I study him. And as usual, it takes me longer than it should to find my voice where he’s concerned.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He unbuttons his blazer and shrugs. “You haven’t responded to my calls or letters. This is the next logical step.”

  “I have nothing to say to you.”

  “Well, I have plenty to say to you.” His voice booms through the small space. “So shut the goddamned door and pour us a drink.”

  “I have classes today.”

  “Cancel them.”

  Bitterness uncoils in my gut in response to his selfish demands, but after all these years, I expect nothing less from him. This is the man who groomed me from a young age to be exactly the image he wanted. He sent me to all the best prep schools. Jammed my schedule so full of extracurriculars and AP courses that I never had a spare minute to think for myself. Under his dictatorship, he called the shots, and I came to him like Pavlov’s dog, salivating eagerly for my next command. But I’m not the same person I was then. My days of doing his bidding ended the night he ruined both of our lives.