If Only I Knew How to Hate You

Bailey

He pulls away from the kiss and I pout, watching him. Doesn’t he want to kiss me? It’s Alex, he’s a guy, he loves kissing me. Why not now? I whine, stomping my foot.

“No,” he shakes his head quietly. “Bailey, I…” He wears this anguished expression like I just ripped out his heart as his fists tighten. “I’m not going to kiss you, no matter how much I want to. You- you’re drunk, and you need to sleep. Okay? I-” he groans as I step forward, pressing my body to his.

“Don’t you want me?” I tell him, hurt myself. “I know you do. And I want you, Alex.”

“I do. You have no idea how hard it is, not taking advantage of you right now. But not like this. Because it’s not you.” He pulls away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about earlier today. You can be angry if you want, but- but neither of us were communicating like we should, and I’m still struggling with the fact that you don’t talk to me at all. So I’m going to bed. You should just sleep on the couch.”

He walks away and I watch him go in disbelief, shock, and hurt. I slump and fall into the chair, blinking in the dim light. Slowly, thinking about it, the alcohol wears off and I rub my temples.

What have I done?

Swallowing hard, I begin working through the fogginess of my mind as I try to focus and everything. It’s hard and it hurts both mentally and emotionally as I begin devling deeper. Because there’s so much more to this than just this evening.

It’s all me, too. He had the right to question where I was, and he could tell I wasn’t being completely honest. He was worried and hurt, obviously, and had to let it out through anger. It’s what I do, too. And I was just making everything so much worse…

I had told Matheson I would tell someone, but… now? How can I? I mean, I almost spilled it to John- it would have been so much easier, too. But… but this just… this is Alex I’m talking about. And especially right now.

Soon my thoughts continue to get more and more complicated but the repeated words keep running through, I hate myself so much.

“I did it,” I mutter in disbelief, staring at the sight before me. “No fire, no extinguisher, no pale of water. I did it!” Right before me, are two perfect eggs that have been cooked and have salt and pepper and everything! It’s a work of art!

Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But still. And ignoring the other eight eggs I wasted, too. Still- they look pretty good. The smile slowly slides from my face as I realize my following tasks: Wait. Then tell him. Which includes apologizing and telling my secret. Or at least part of it…

“Bailey?”

I jump, looking up from drawing circles with my finger on the counter, to find a tired Alex right there. His hair is a mess, but it looks like he just showered and has new clothes on, though he’s still sleepwalking it seems. Scratching his head, he looks at me with a confused expression.

Taking a deep breath, I manage a small smile. “Morning. I- I made you eggs,” I add, pushing the plate to his edge. “Here,” I add, passing the orange juice and some silverware.

“You made these?” He asks, surprised. Of course, who wouldn’t be?

“Um, eventually, but yeah,” I bite my lip after nodding and wait for his expression. “I didn’t poison them,” I add, trying to be helpful. “Honest. I mean, I didn’t try them, but that’s how they always look in um, books and the… the shows…” I trail off, fiddling with my nails again.

“Oh. Okay,” he nods slowly, blinking and waking up a little more. “Um, wow. Thanks, then. Do you want some?” He adds, sitting down and beginning to cut them up.

“Nope, not hungry,” I assure him. And how could I eat, with having to get ready for this all morning? Or all night, either way you look at it- I didn’t sleep a wink. I was up at five, showering, then walking and anything I could think of.

“Mm, that is good,” he says through a mouthful, and Alex continues to eat quietly for a few minutes, before pausing and looking up at me until he finishes swallowing. “Is it okay to ask why?”

“Why… I made this?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

“I…” I bite my lip nervously. “Um, why don’t you finish eating, and uh- we can talk after.”

He nods slowly. “Okay. That works.” I nod in reply and fiddle with some of the dishes as he eats. But I don’t think I wash them too well with my shaking hands.

After all, I’d never told anyone… well, I don’t remember telling. Missy just got me drunk to the extremes one evening after a very fun night in the city, and tricked it out of me. Well, and I said a few things to the police and lawyers for the trial… but technically… this wasn’t going to be easy. What do I say?

Too soon, Alex is done and putting his dishes in the tiny sink. I follow him to the couch where we sit down and I stare at my hands for a long time until he clears his throat. “The guys will be getting up in about an hour, so…” he trails off, trying to be helpful.

“Right,” I give a strained smile and take a deep breath. “I- I just wanted… to apologize. I… it was… well, it was wrong. You know, not… not telling you- the truth,” my voice falters and I clear it uneasily. “Because- because I was… well, I wasn’t with John or, or getting anything for him. I was… at the police station.”

He pauses for the longest time. “So… you have a traffic violation?” He offers, having no idea.

Closing my eyes, I sigh and shake my head, then gaze at him for a minute before speaking. “Before tour, Alex, I got that phone call. Remember?” He nods slowly. “And I… there was some shocking… news. And it scared me.”

Alex scoots a little closer, understanding that this is very difficult, and very personal. He takes his warm hands and rubs my own cold ones, still completely silent and too patient.

I’m too scared to tell him everything. “I… I’m being…” my voice tightens and I try to gather my thoughts. “There’s… someone… who’s… who’s stalking me. They- he- he was in jail for a few years, but… but he escaped and- and… they believe he’s after me again.”

“Do you want to tell me who?” He asks delicately.

I shake my head no and take in a sharp breath. “I just… I needed… to tell someone, they said, and… just in case.” I bite my lip harder than before and taste blood. I can feel myself shaking but I can’t stop it. “I just… it’s very- dangerous, and I thought I was safe, but I’m not,” I manage to choke out, somewhat forced.

“You’re crying,” he whispers, and wipes away the teardrops I hadn’t known were beginning to trickle down my face. “Hey, Bailey… it’s okay,” he tries. “It’s okay to be scared, and it’s okay to tell me. But things are going to get better. They’ll- they’ll get this guy. You’re safe with me,” he adds softly, wrapping me in his arms.

Biting my tongue, I bite back the sobs and bile threatening to arise. But I can’t find any more words to speak. I can’t tell him it’s my uncle. I can’t even say the name that haunts me. I can’t tell him how dangerous he really is. How he’ll stop at nothing. I just grab Alex closer to me and hold on as if for dear life.

If only it were that easy.