Boys and Girls, Part IV: Why I Love to Hate You

Chapter 1 – Ewan

Jacy was nervous, and she didn’t even know why. She had known Ewan since her junior year of high school. Well, true she had never met the guy, but she’d seen pictures of him and knew basically everything about him.

Including the fact that her hot foreign pen pal was gay. Ewan hadn’t told her this until her freshman year of college because he hadn’t come out of the closet, himself, until then. Jacy was a little disappointed because she felt as if she had really connected with Ewan…she had been hopeful that something beyond a simple correspondence might have developed between them. But now, she didn’t mind so much. What could she do? She was just happy to have a new friend now.

Jacy anxiously stood at the airport terminal for incoming flights from Heathrow. She had considered writing her name in large letters on a piece of cardboard, but she didn’t want to look like an idiot. She figured she’d recognize Ewan right away, even if he couldn’t recognize her.

She didn’t look that different now, but Jacy had managed to lose almost twenty pounds over winter break. She was still nowhere near as skinny as her friends, yet she felt better about herself. She was healthier now and more toned than before. Furthermore, she had more energy and worked out at least once a day.

Jacy’s new lifestyle had been a direct result of several factors. First and foremost, she had gotten a loud wake-up call after her mother suffered a mild heart attack just a week before Christmas. Jacy’s mother was better now, but Jacy feared that her own health may be at risk if she didn’t do something about it immediately.

Secondly, Jacy had wanted a change, particularly after her friends, Ryan Mackey and Ailani Bennett, had begun dating. Now, Jacy was the lone single girl in their circle of friends, and she didn’t like the feeling one bit.

The final reason was also the pettiest reason, and Jacy knew it. As much as she wanted to believe that she was past Tristan Carter and his shallow ways, she still wanted to come face to face with him eventually and have him rue the day he ever set Jacy up to attend the “fat girl” mixer at North Mission’s local sports fraternity, Hawks Manor.

Jacy saw passengers begin to walk through the terminal. She saw a trio of young girls running toward a female figure and yelling “Aunt Lucy!” in adorable British accents. The tall, blonde lady bent down to receive all three of her nieces – they looked to be triplets – before rising to greet their mother. Jacy observed the scene with wistfulness, wishing that she had an “Aunt Eustace” or someone over in England who would accept her just as warmly. Most of Jacy’s family either lived in North Mission or Ohio, and although that just screamed All-American, Jacy wasn’t very impressed by it.

“Don’t tell me you’re falling for those three,” a suave British accent pleaded in Jacy’s general direction. She turned and faced Ewan Watts.

He towered over Jacy, who was 5’5” herself. Ewan must have stood at least 6’2” tall. He had a very European build – mostly lanky, but imposing nonetheless. His eyes were dark – nearly black, and he had dark brown hair, which curled into charming tendrils. He was wearing a black blazer over a white shirt and jeans that hugged his long legs. He looked just the way that she had remembered from the picture he had sent her two years ago, except his skin appeared darker in person. He was also a lot taller than she had expected.

He smiled, and Jacy’s knees about turned to mush. “I sat behind those brats for nearly twelve hours straight.”

Jacy laughed. Ewan flashed her another grin before pulling her into a warm hug.

“It’s so good to finally meet you, Jacy.”

She took in the hug and inhaled his scent. “It’s good to me you too, Ewan.” He smelled so good, like expensive cologne and clean male. When he pulled back, he looked her in her hazel eyes and smiled.

“God you’re pretty,” he said, rubbing a thumb across her cheekbones. “Can’t imagine why you never wanted to send me a picture of yourself, love.”

She wouldn’t tell him why. They had just met. No use in depressing this jet-lagged soul with tales of her insecurities and self-consciousness.

“You must be really tired.”

“Nah,” he answered. “I slept on the flight.”

Jacy’s jaw dropped. “Ewan! You’re not supposed to sleep on flights in this direction.”

“Oh yes I can!” he protested. “I usually don’t sleep before five in the morning anyhow. It all works out for the best, love.”

“Five-thirty?” Jacy asked, growing curious. “You must have a very exciting nightlife.”

Ewan shook his head. “That’s not it. I’m a vampire.”

Jacy looked at him with a dead-serious expression in her eyes. “Huh?”

Ewan chuckled. “That was just a little British humor, Jacy.”

Jacy giggled.

“Although I have been told by past lovers that I bite very hard.”

Jacy’s ladylike giggles erupted into very unladylike laughter soon afterwards.

****

Tristan ran his fingers through his new haircut and sighed. He hated when it was so damn short, but his mother had complained about his slightly longer hair for a while now.

He didn’t want to upset her right now.

The family had suffered a tremendously horrific year. Firstly, Tristan’s scholarship and football playing days at Granite University had been cut short by a series of tropical storms that had hit the Gulf Coast just the previous year. However, that setback had paled in comparison to the death of Tristan’s baby brother, Lucas.
It had been nearly two months since a classmate at their high school in Trinity Falls, Texas, had shot his youngest brother, Lucas, at point-blank range. When Tristan had heard, he was devastated, but he about near died when he saw the state that his mother had been in.

She cried over her baby for weeks. Tristan had offered to skip the BCS Championship Game, but his father insisted that Tristan do so – that it might take away some of the pain the family was feeling. He ended up playing in the Title game…and ended up scoring the winning touchdown for his team. Tristan dedicated his hard work in that game to his youngest brother because Lucas had dreams of playing football just like his big brother. And now, he wouldn’t.

Aside from the obvious grief that accompanied Lucas’s death, Tristan had also experienced initial fury at the assailant. He demanded to know every detail during the police department’s ongoing investigation. Unfortunately, what he had learned had unnerved him.

The shooter’s was identified as Lewis Kempman. Aside from suffering psychological problems, Lewis was also afflicted by hypothyroidism – a condition that made him near obese. Apparently, Lewis had been teased his entire life for his weight and his strange personality. Lucas naturally began congregating with the football crowd and other popular members at Trinity Falls High.

Lewis tragically singled Lucas out and killed him. Afterwards, Lewis had killed himself with the same gun that had been used to kill Tristan’s brother.

Tristan’s father, a devout conservative politician who usually lobbied for guns, was suddenly faced with a dilemma. Following his son’s murder, Tristan’s father began changing his tune and lobbied for gun control instead.

In the city of Trinity Falls, Texas, Tristan had expected most of the residents to ally with the Carter family, but after school shootings in places like Jonesboro and Columbine, the national sympathy was slowly shifting in the other direction. Obviously, family and friends of Lucas were sticking in his defense, while other more liberal-minded folks just felt pity for Lewis and the misfortunes that led to his unfortunate actions.

It was strange. Now that Tristan had had nearly two months to ponder all the misfortunes that had afflicted his family, he himself didn’t know what to feel. Of course he loved his brother and would always miss the little scamp, but Tristan couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if Lucas had just done the nice thing and treated Lewis with some respect.

The thought was especially important to Tristan considering something he did the previous semester during his first few months at North Mission University. Tristan hadn’t really been trying to fit in or anything; he could give a lesser crap of what others thought of him. But he had allowed his own emotions and wants get the best of him. He had humiliated a girl who had merely outwitted him because he knew she was vulnerable. And how did he know this?

Because she was fat.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that most overweight women were low on self-esteem. Tristan had exploited this knowledge to try and destroy Jacinda Hewitt’s spirit. Only, he hadn’t counted on her friends to come to the rescue.

And now…Tristan knew what his priorities really were. He needed to make friends – not enemies – and create meaningful bonds with whomever. His brother’s death had put things into perspective, and Tristan didn’t want to be a jerk. He didn’t want to be a guy who was capable of pushing someone over the edge and hurting either himself or others in the process.

Tristan stepped on the escalators that led to the lower level of LAX. He was finally back again after visiting his family, following the Championship game in Phoenix. His brother’s funeral had occurred back in early December, but Tristan felt as if the dark spirit of all the negative things that had happened still lingered around his home.

He really did love his family, and he wished to God that he could do something to heal them – to bring them out of their despair. But Tristan wasn’t omnipotent; he couldn’t bring his brother back now.

Right now, Tristan really needed someone to hear him out. Surrounding himself with grieving family members wasn’t doing anything for his spirits. He never even relished the fact that his Championship game win would probably secure him a top ten spot in the upcoming NFL draft, despite the fact that he was still only a junior in college.

God, he sounded like a total pussy. Tristan hated feeling so depressed. He missed the days when he was cocky and confident about anything and everything in his life. Except…what had cockiness and confidence ever gotten him besides a BCS Championship ring? Tristan had no real friends, no meaningful relationships with members of the opposite sex, and he found everything in life just tasted of…dissatisfaction.

Tristan descended from the escalator and began walking with his duffel along the first floor. His thoughts were interrupted by the loud sounds of female laughter. Tristan instinctively turned to his right.

Jacy Hewitt was standing next to a tall man wearing very tight jeans, except as Tristan got a closer look at her, she looked…different. She looked different in a good way, though. Her long, brown hair was tied to the side and she sported fashionable-looking bangs that parted to her left. Her cheekbones were more prominent. Had she lost weight? She wore minimal make-up, but her hazel eyes glowed as she continued to laugh at the jokes of the tall stranger walking next to her.

Tristan trailed slightly behind the pair. He looked the rest of Jacy Hewitt up and down. She still wasn’t skinny like many of the fake-bake chicks in LA, but she still looked good. She wore a khaki-colored blazer with a pair of jeans that were almost as tight as the ones clad on the tall guy walking beside her. Despite having lost a significant amount of weight around her waist, Jacy looked to have retained her large rack and great ass. Tristan was stunned. When had this girl blossomed so suddenly?

He heard her laugh again and realized that her laughter sounded like bells. He liked hearing it. The only other emotions he’d witnessed from her before were anger, sarcasm, and pessimism. He enjoyed hearing her be happy for once.

Too bad she’d probably never laugh like that for him. Tristan was pretty certain that Jacy hated him after what he’d done to her. True – Tristan had never told her personally that he had been behind the plan to have her attend the mixer, but he was pretty sure that one of her “blessed” friends had squealed the news after discovering it themselves.

Tristan headed for the extended-stay parking facility, where he had left his fire-red Porsche. He couldn’t hide his disappointment as he saw new guy and Jacy head toward the public transportation. That was probably the last he’d see of Jacy Hewitt.

****
A/N # 1: Awww, so Tristan Carter does have a history, after all. I know most, if not all of you guys hated his guts after my last story. Hopefully, I can work toward making him a little more sympathetic.

A/N # 2: To be honest, I'm not a big fan of the title (it's catchy but doesn't make too much sense). I may change it, and if you guys can offer me a few suggestions, that would be great! Thanks