Hate to Love You - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Saturday family dinner nights always came with a headache.
They only happened once a month, but they were a great reminder of why I opted not to live at home and go to the local Christian college like my mother originally hoped I would. Staying two hours away sometimes meant I could come up with an excuse not to come, like studying for a test or feeling sick — but that didn't always work.
Take yesterday, for instance. I told her my car was broken, only to have her offer to drive down and pick me up. I quickly backpedaled and said I'd get it to a mechanic that afternoon, even though my car was perfectly fine. Being in a car with my mother was just... painful.
"I worry so much about you living in that awful house, it's practically falling apart," she said, doling out a modest scoop of mashed potatoes onto my plate. "But at least you don't have any male roommates. That's the only thought that lets me sleep at night."
Sure it wasn't all those sleeping pills?
I looked at my plate and then at the huge mound of mashed potatoes on my brother's plate. "Could I please have some more, Mom?"
"Absolutely not, Hannah. You should watch your figure while you're still young," she chided, giving me a disapproving glance.
Rather than getting into an argument with her, I offered a tight-lipped nod and shoved a spoonful of mash into my mouth, hoping that it would stop me from saying anything more. My wish came true because the unseasoned starchiness nearly choked me before I somehow managed to swallow it down.
On second thought, I was glad she hadn't given me more. I glanced at my brother, wondering if he was having the same struggle, but he seemed unperturbed and kept eating, having grown accustomed to our mother's cooking. Maybe college was spoiling me because it was getting harder and harder to want to come home. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here right now.
"Good?" My mother inquired, raising one thin eyebrow inquisitively.
I forced a smile on my lips and nodded. She beamed with satisfaction and pride before taking a bite of her own meal. Her happy expression showed me that she didn't have any taste buds left.
Tonight, my mother was dressed in a pale pink cardigan, paired with khaki pants and sensible white flats. Her mostly gray hair was pulled back in its usual neat bun and she wasn't wearing any makeup except for a transparent lip balm, which was probably some natural lip something her church friends had gifted or sold to her.
"So, any news about your internship?" My mom asked, lifting a small forkful of slightly charred and very dry roast into her mouth.
I winced. "Nope. Not yet."
I'd accidentally mentioned that I would be interning somewhere as part of my degree's requirements for my third year. The reason I regretted telling her anything was because I didn't want her influencing any decision I made in regards to where I was planning to go. Thankfully, I still had time before my decision had to be made. I didn't even know what options I had, but I would be finding out on Monday morning when I went to see my college adviser.
I realized I'd be having a class with Fuckface right after, and briefly wondered if he was going to show up. But then I shook my head. It didn't matter — we had nothing to do with each other, and it would be better if I just forgot every interaction with that jerk.
We continued to eat in silence for a few minutes, the only discernible sounds being the scrape of our forks against the ceramic plates. They were the plates my mother had gotten as a wedding gift to my dad.
In fact, not much had changed since he left. Only now she wasn't constantly screaming at him about his infidelity.
A small hiccup disrupted the silence when a dry piece of roast lodged itself in my throat, quickly transforming into a full-blown coughing fit. My mom's brow furrowed with concern, but I waved her off with a dismissive hand as my face flushed with the heat from my coughing.
An abrupt "oof" escaped me as Jason reached over to pat the shit out of my back. My immediate impulse was to retaliate and smack him, but his heavy pats eventually achieved their purpose, and the stubborn piece of meat found its way down. I shot him a venomous glare and he withdrew his hand quickly.
Me thinks he might have enjoyed that too much.
"Just went down the wrong pipe," I assured my mom once I'd regained my composure, thumping my chest with my fist.
"That's what she said." Jason's whispered remark reached my ears, catching me completely off guard and inciting another round of coughing. He'd just risked both of our lives by saying that.
Mom rose from her chair with a displeased expression, announcing, "I'll fetch you a glass of water. You clearly need it."
"Thanks, mom," I rasped, clearing my throat while giving her a pained smile.
As soon as she left the dining room, I immediately punched him in the shoulder — hard because I was his older sister, but also in retaliation for earlier. He let out a pained groan and rubbed his shoulder.
Jason bore a striking resemblance to me and our dad, sporting the same hair, light blue eyes, and straight nose. The only noticeable difference was his height. Every time we saw each other, which was usually once a week, it seemed like he had managed to sneak in an extra inch. He was rapidly closing in on six feet, and being his older sister, I couldn't help but entertain the thought of using a pan to knock him back down to his former height.
"Idiot! What if Mom heard that?" I hissed.
He gave a nonchalant shrug. "But she didn't."
"Yeah, lucky for us." I looked down at his nearly empty plate. "How did you manage to finish all of that so quickly? It's so gross."
"Gross food survival strategy 101: ingest at maximum speed to minimize taste bud torture. You're lucky you missed her infamous meatloaf. That stuff was next-level nasty." He mimicked gagging for emphasis, sticking a finger in his mouth.
"Ew, don't even describe it." I cringed. "I promise, one night out, I'll steal you away for a feast of the most ridiculously unhealthy food we can find. No Mom commentary allowed, just you and me and a whole lot of food. We'll pig out until everyone thinks we're gross."
He laughed and nodded. "My football coach is gonna kill me, but I'm down. I just need you to work your magic on Mom to convince her to let me leave the house without her. Did you know she comes to watch all of my practices? That shit is embarrassing. Last week, she actually chewed out one of my teammates for tackling me a bit too rough for her taste."
I frowned. "Have you mentioned this to Dad?"
"Yeah. He promised to have a chat with her, but I can tell he's trying to avoid that minefield for now." He looked down, picking at loose threads on the lace tablecloth.
After my dad's mid-life crisis, he took off, divorced my mother, and mostly left us to fend for ourselves while he played house with Kelly. I understood his reasons to some extent, given I'd done something similar myself, but I still resented how absent he was from Jace's life. Aside from providing financial support and occasional phone calls, he was mostly unreliable.
And because I still felt so much guilt for not being there for Jace when he needed me most, I reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, I'll handle it."
"You don't have to."
"I do, actually. You're my little brother, remember? Looking out for you is part of the gig."
He looked up at me and smiled. "Thanks, Han."
Our sibling bonding moment was quickly interrupted as our mom reentered the room, holding an obscenely large glass that was meant to just have water in it... though it now suspiciously resembled the concoctions Jace and I made as kids.
"I put some lemon, garlic, ginger, and cucumber slices into the water. Your skin is looking a little dry and dull — this is a natural remedy that should help. Make sure to drink all of it."
°•°•°•°
My knee bounced to an unidentifiable rhythm as I fixated on the safe sex poster across from where I sat, my fingers digging into my thighs. The girl in the picture wore a wide smile as she embraced some half-hidden guy. Around them was every form of approved birth control, encouraging students to choose the best one suited to them. I was surprised there wasn't a condom dispensary next to it.
I briefly wondered what the models were doing right at this very moment — and if they knew they were on a safe sex poster. You'd assume they'd know, but a guy with a degree in marketing once told me that stock models often found themselves unknowingly featured in an array of ads. How freaky was that?
The click of the door opening had me jerking out of my stupor. I watched as another student, a brunette girl in a long flower-maxi dress and combat boots, stepped out of the office. She gave me a wide smile before sauntering down the hallway, humming to herself. I stood up, grateful for a reprieve from the horrible airport benches they used as waiting chairs. I walked over to the now-closed door and knocked, waiting for permission to enter.
"Come in," a woman's voice answered.
I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. My adviser's office exuded a sleek modern outlook, adorned with geometric shapes and a palette of neutral tones. The walls had mounted shelves displaying an array of books and fake plants, interspersed with framed certificates, awards and little trinkets.
My college adviser herself, Aubrey Harold, sat behind her gray office desk, looking beautifully prim and proper. But she wasn't just a pretty face; she was also an accomplished businesswoman and author. She only worked as an adviser because she had a special relationship with Dale University's Dean and, if you believed rumors, Professor Liam Coleman — our school's famous psychology professor.
Professor Coleman had been my second-year professor before I got stuck with Professor Haynes for Health Psychology this semester. Professor Coleman was... very good-looking, to say the least. A girl in my second year got in trouble after she got undressed and waited for him in his office — only for him and the Dean to walk in together. I never did see her again after that.
Smiling politely, I went to sit down on one of the two dark green visitor's chairs. I put my bag on the floor by my feet and folded my hands in my lap, waiting for her to talk first. Ms Harold watched me with a small smile, one corner of her red lips lifted.
"Hello, Hannah," She greeted, reclining in her chair. "How are you doing today?"
"Uh... good. Normal. It's Monday, so... I'm busy with work and stuff like that." I shrugged, running my hands up and down my thighs nervously.
"Of course. Anything interesting happen of late?" She asked to be polite, reaching for her drawer as dark hair cascaded flawlessly over her shoulder.
Her question lingered in the air as she retrieved the folder. My mind raced, replaying the events of the last week.
I shook my head. "Nope."
She laughed and it sounded like the softest bell. "I suppose you want to get straight into things?" Straightening up, she fixed her hair and placed a thick manila folder on the desk in front of me. My eyes fixated on it. Was I supposed to take it or...?
"Then let's dive right in, shall we?" she said, holding up the folder. "A number of companies got back to me, expressing interest in you. I've printed out information on each of them and put them in the folder. I recommend that you read through each one carefully before making a decision. Though..." She flipped open the folder. The cover page displayed a company name, IntelliClin Research Solutions, in bold letters. Her perfectly manicured finger pointed to the name, leaving a faint impression on the page.
"I would pay close attention to this one. IntelliClin offers a remarkable internship experience, working alongside esteemed experts as an assistant to a Clinical Research Coordinator. They're involved in groundbreaking cases, Hannah. You could be involved in these ground-breaking cases."
I leaned forward, interested. "What's the catch?" I asked, my skepticism making a play.
"The catch?" She raised one perfect brow.
"There's always a catch," I insisted.
She smiled. "Clever girl. The catch is that it's based in California, and it's a long-term commitment. You'd have to transfer there to complete your studies while pursuing the internship."
"Leave Dale?" My face dropped. "I thought this was just supposed to be a quick internship or research program?"
She gave me a sympathetic nod. "Hannah, this is an extraordinary opportunity. Don't let the fear of moving hold you back. I'll assist with the transfer process, coordinating with the advisers and staff at the other college. It will be a seamless transition."
I withdrew slightly, my throat constricting. "But... it's so far away. I doubt my parents would approve."
I would also be leaving Jace behind. Again.
"Would you like me to speak to them?"
"No. I-I'll do it. How much time do I have to decide?"
Noticing my apprehension, she rose from her swivel chair and came around the desk to stand beside me. She put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently, her pale eyes meeting mine.
"You still have a couple of weeks before I have to give them an answer. Take the folder and read through everything. Just be sure to take your time so that you make an informed decision. And put yourself first, okay?"
I nodded and took the folder she held out. It felt heavy — heavier than it really was.