Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

partner as it was with one.
But there were times, like now, when I yearned to experience that kind of
unconditional love. To have someone care for me through the good, the bad,
and the inevitable mistakes I made.
What would it be like to be loved so deeply by someone I wouldn’t have
to worry about every little move possibly driving them away?
“No, no, no!” My mom ripped the curling iron from my hand. “Look at
this mess you made.” She gestured at the curls I’d spent the past hour
perfecting. “Alastair will be here soon, and I look like I’m wearing a rat’s
nest on my head. How many times do I have to teach you how to do this?
What good is it having a daughter if you can’t do one simple thing right?”
My teeth dug into my bottom lip. “But I did it exactly like you—”
“Don’t talk back to me.” Adeline dropped the still-hot iron on the table

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and yanked a brush through her hair with sharp, hard strokes, undoing all
my work. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? You want me to be ugly.”
Her eyes welled with tears. “Now I have to fix your mess.”
My teeth dug harder into my lip until the coppery taste of blood filled my
mouth. She didn’t look like a mess at all. She looked beautiful, as always. My
mom wasn’t as young as in the beauty pageant pictures she displayed all over
the house, but her skin was still smooth and unlined. Her hair was a rich
auburn, and her body was the envy of every woman in town.
Everyone said I looked like her, especially now that my skin had cleared
and I’d finally graduated to a real bra. Boys were starting to pay attention to
me, including Billy Welch, the cutest boy in my eighth-grade class.
I thought my mom would be happy I looked like her, but every time
someone mentioned it, her face darkened, and she’d make an excuse to leave.
“Go. I don’t want to look at you anymore.” Adeline’s eyes raked over me
from head to toe. Her anger multiplied until it became a tangible, snarling
monster in the room. “Go!”
The tears finally spilled down my cheeks.
I ran out of her room and into mine. I slammed the door behind me and
crawled into my bed, where I tried to muffle my cries with my pillows. Our
walls were so thin she could probably hear me, and my mom hated when I
cried. She said it was unbecoming.
My hiccupping sobs filled the room.
She was right to be mad. She had a big date with the richest man in town,
who could take care of all our money troubles if they got married like she
wanted.
What if I ruined it by messing up her hair? What if he broke up with her
and she hated me forever for it?
My mom and I used to be best friends, but I couldn’t do anything right
these days, and she kept getting mad at me.
After I ran out of tears to cry, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand
and took a deep, shuddering breath.