"have you ever wanted to hate someone?" with mc x ingrid if u wanna, im fucking lobe ur writing sol :sneezehaw:
ofc jules!!!! thank u for asking!!!!
“Have you ever wanted to hate someone?” Ellie asks, twisting a strand of brown hair around her finger.
“Nah,” says Mona, not bothering to look up from her current task of attempting to wrestle the mega-bag of candy Toby and Logan had compiled from Toby’s hands while he did everything in his power with the exact 3.5 inches he had on her to prevent this from happening, “if I want to hate someone I just do. It’s not that hard.”
“It’s not about whether or not I’m capable,” Ellie rolls her eyes, setting her nail between her teeth as if she hadn’t quite committed to the idea of tearing it to pieces, “it’s just that she’s really, really hot.”
Across the beach, Ingrid stands; tall and radiant like a beacon of beauty. An angel come to Earth- not fallen, simply there. Sunlight glistens off her tan skin, dampened by the ocean water that licks reverently at her ankles. Her bottle-blonde hair is bedraggled and somehow looks perfect, her pastel pink bikini not quite hiding the pale tan lines on her shoulders and hips.
She looks up. Ellie looks away quickly, so she doesn’t have to see the way Ingrid’s perfect lips curl up into a perfect smirk on her perfect face. Mona quirks a brow at her, taking advantage of Toby’s lowered guard to snatch the paper bag from his hands and turn her back to him.
“That’s the girl who beat you out for valedictorian?”
“Half a mark on the final exam!” Ellie protests on reflex. Mona’s lips curve up into her devastating grin. Toby leans around Mona, hand clamped on her shoulder, to try and reach his back.
“Nerd,” says Mona.
“You could just talk to her,” Toby suggests, shoving Mona hard as she steps away from him with a lilting laugh.
“She doesn’t want to talk to someone like me,” Ellie says miserably, picking at the frayed edges of her jean shorts, “that’s why I want to hate her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty, and she’s just... perfect. It’s not fair to hate her, but it’s easier than liking her and knowing I don’t have a chance.”
“El,” Logan’s voice sends all three of them standing to attention. He stands, hip cocked, a few feet away with his hand in the back pocket of Colt’s jeans. “Can I give you some advice?”
“I get the impression that you’re going to regardless of what I say.”
“Yep,” Logan says with a grin, “this isn’t a telenovela. Stranger things have happened than a pretty girl hanging out with someone who can match her level of intellect.”
“Such as me dating someone with half a brain cell,” Colt jerks a thumb in Logan’s direction, “what odds. Confidence is everything. Don’t bother shooting your shot if you can’t follow through.”
“Extremely bold words coming from someone who literally ran away after I kissed him for the first time.” Colt flushes furious red and Mona cackles while Toby does his best to hide his grin. Chest shaking with laughter, Ellie turns her head to gaze at Ingrid again. Ingrid is still watching, but she starts suddenly, and turns her face away. Ellie’s face goes as red as Colt’s.
“Ellie,” Mona says, “I can’t take a Colt and Logan repeat. Please woman up and take one for my delicate constitution. Longing stares make me nauseous.”
“Okay! Okay,” Ellie stands quickly, pushing off the hood of Mona’s car, “I’m going. But only because I hate the fallout of Logan and Colt’s lovers quarrels.” Logan grins, presses a pointed kiss to the corner of Colt’s mouth. Ellie gestures, brow quirked in a ‘see’ gesture, before she turns, and makes her way toward the beach.
The sand is hot between her toes, flip-flops dangling from her fingers as she carefully trudges toward the ocean. Ingrid breaches the surf a few feet away, hands scooping her hair back from her face. Her eyes fall upon Ellie’s approaching figure, and she blinks, before taking a few unsure steps toward the shore.
“Hey!” Ellie calls over the sound of the breakers and shrieking gulls. Ingrid’s lips curl into a smile, and it’s all Ellie can do to keep from stumbling at the sheer force of the desire to kiss her.
“Wheeler,” says Ingrid, her voice smooth and silken, “can I help you?” Ellie falters.
“Well- no, I mean-- yes? I mean, I just,” a deep breath, “I just wanted to talk. I haven’t seen you since graduation.”
“Well, we weren’t exactly friends,” that stings a little, and Ellie pushes her tongue against her teeth, forcing herself to draw up straighter and lift her chin, though the effort seems fruitless when Ingrid’s head seems haloed by the sun.
“No, we weren’t,” she says, “but we should change that. I don’t know why we ever harboured any animosity toward each other in the first place.” Ingrid’s face falls in bewilderment.
“Because you’re ultra-competitive and you saw me as a challenger for valedictorian.” Ellie pauses.
“Well, yes,” she says, “but I guess that’s out of the way, right? And it doesn’t make sense for two smart, capable women who are both moving away to Langston come fall to keep hating each other after that variable has been removed, right?” Ingrid’s brow quirked, her hand on her hip.
“You’re really hamming up the whole feminist angle.”
“Yes. Yes I am.” Ellie turns, briefly, to glance back at her friends: Mona and Toby leaning against her car and sharing the candy while Colt and Logan bicker playfully, broad smiles on their faces. She smiles too, thinks back on the last few months and what they’ve taught her, what advice they would give her. She makes a decision.
“It seemed like an easier option than admitting I think you’re really pretty, and that your intelligence intimidated me because it made you much more attractive, and I didn’t think I’d ever have a shot.” Ingrid’s eyes widened, and her mouth falls open in a perfect ‘o’. She stares for a few moments... and then she laughs.
Her laugh is like so many things: like honey and bees buzzing in springtime air, tinkling bells in dewy fields, sun brightly beating down on orchards in bloom, of a thunderstorm in the distance when one is warm under the covers. Ellie smiles, wide and genuine, as Ingrid’s eyes meet hers, almost shyly this time.
“That was... straight forward,” she says, tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear, “I liked it.”
“I’m glad,” Ellie breathes out, not having realized she was even holding a breath to begin with, “saying it was terrifying. I thought for sure I was going to choke.”
“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” Ingrid bites her lower lip, glancing at the sand between them, “and for the record... I’ve always thought you were pretty, too.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Ellie stands, unsure what to say. The air between them is new, and uncharted, but if the past few months have taught her anything, it’s that she is capable of so much more than she ever thought. She is tentative now, but she has proven to be adaptable and brave. She reaches out, touches her fingers to Ingrid’s, pulls her hand toward her.
“I wanted to hate you,” she says, “because it was easier than liking you and thinking I had no chance. But now that I have one... I’d like to take it. Do you want to go out with me? Coffee at Blue Peppermint, Friday at ten if that suits you?”
“I like a girl who knows what she wants,” Ingrid’s fingers splay, lace with Ellie’s, “that sounds great. We could go to the observatory later? They have an exhibit on the Mars rovers set up at the moment.”
“It’s a date,” Ellie says, her grin so wide her face aches, but she’s never felt happier. Ingrid’s smile is enough to make her hear angels singing as she nods, a lock of sea-dampened blonde falling across her eyes. It’s interesting to see perfect, untouchable Ingrid as shy, vulnerable, and hopeful, all unguarded emotions.
And all because of a date with Ellie. Her grin broadens, and she squeezes Ingrid’s hand.
“Yeah,” Ingrid says, as the sea washes over their toes, “I guess it is.”