Love the One You're With

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to Ann M. Martin.

A/N: This story starts about a year before ILAW, but the timelines will cross later.


Chapter One

Have you ever hated someone? I mean, really hated them? I was always one to toss that word around when I was younger. I hate my hair. I hate my braces. I hate my glasses. As I got older, I realized the strength the word carried. It wasn't something to be taken lightly. Maybe it was just me, because I was so insecure, but I always felt inferior to everyone around me. Still, I never liked to use the word hate. Dislike was always appropriate enough. Who wants to have a long hate list?

I grew up with seven brothers and sisters. That's right, I said seven. Maybe that's what made me such a tolerable person. You really learn to be patient when you live with so many people. I considered myself a pro at sharing the bathroom: I could be in and out of there in five minutes flat, which included brushing my teeth and hair (at least as far as I could drag a brush through the unruly mop of red fuzz that resembled my hair), washing my face, and using the bathroom.

When I finally finished high school I was beyond excited to go to college. My school years were…less than stellar, to put it nicely. I had accepted the fact that I wasn't the girl that always had dates on Friday nights, or got invited to all the wildest parties. I had a nice enough guy whom I casually dated named Ben Hobart, and a best friend named Jessi Ramsey and that was enough for me. I used to be a part of a baby-sitting club, but we pretty much grew apart when we ended up in separate schools, since most of the girls were older than Jessi and I.

Originally, I was eager to get to high school and get a fresh start, away from the horrors that I endured in middle school, which I'm not going to really get into. Let's just say it involved the name "Spaz Girl" and a new boarding school.

I returned to Stoneybrook, Connecticut which is where I grew up, for high school. I was happy to be reunited with Jessi and Ben, and at first things were great. Ben actually gave me my first kiss, which was thrilling, because I was beginning to think that all guys had a secret fear of clowns and my hair frightened them. We had fun, but I think we were both too shy and somewhat geeky to really try anything too extreme. We went to the movies, hung out at the mall, and snuck kisses when no one was looking. I did not mind this arrangement one bit.

Naturally, as seemed to be the case with most guys, Ben started to want more. At first, when he suggested we "take our relationship to the next level", I told him I wasn't ready and that was that. As time went on, he began to get slightly more aggressive. Once we were studying on my bed and he suddenly pressed me against my pillows and kissed me roughly while he held my wrists over my head. The first time this happened I was stunned. He'd never, EVER acted like that before, not even remotely close. I was upset, but I gave him another chance until it happened again, and that was it. I immediately called things off, telling him that if he couldn't respect my wishes, he could find some tramp to stick his dick in. That last bit of vulgarity came after a very heated argument.

That was pretty much the last I heard of Ben. He never called me again, he ignored me in the U.S. History class we shared together, and he would walk straight past me as if I were a stranger if we passed each other in the halls. It stung at first, but I realized I was better off. It was weird how quickly I got over Ben, since I'd developed a huge crush on him pretty much the first time we met.

While we were dating, I did the stupid girl thing where you forget your friends. I wish someone could be there to look at my situation and go "Oh, Mallory." Maybe I would've wised up sooner. Anytime Jessi would call, I would always be too busy with Ben. After we broke up, I started calling her again to hang out. Unfortunately, she'd begun to hang out with some other girls in our class at this time. "So, now that you and Ben aren't together, you suddenly have time for me?" she'd asked, looking a little smug.

All this was during the end of junior year. Senior year was pretty much hell. I didn't really have anyone, and I pretty much kept to myself. I threw myself into school work, even though I already knew where I was going for college. I was going to Cameron College, a small liberal arts college located in Eastern Massachusetts. It wasn't too far from the boarding school I'd attended, which is where I'd heard about it in the first place.

Graduating was bittersweet. I was happy to be moving on, but I had no one to really share my excitement with other than Beth Poller, whom I sat next to during the ceremony. She gave me a quick hug after Kevin Zorzi's name was called. "We did it, Mal!" she'd squealed. After that some other girls came up to her and she abandoned me to squeal some more with them. I found Jessi and offered her a hug of congratulations. "Good luck at Julliard," I'd told her. She looked sad, and there was a wistfulness in her eyes. But she simply said, "Thanks. Good luck to you too." Then she was stopped by her own group of friends. More squealing followed. All the girls sounded like a round a pigs about to be slaughtered.

My family took us all out to dinner at Denny's. Yes, Denny's. You go to Denny's when you're drunk at three in the morning and you're craving breakfast and it's the only place open. You do not go to Denny's to celebrate someone graduating from high school. But that's where we went and I tried to make the best of it. The triplets (Byron, Adam, and Jordan) looked generally bored and probably wanted to be with their friends instead of at Denny's. Vanessa had the same dreamy look she seemed to have been permanently born with. She loved to write poetry and I wondered if at that very moment she was trying to come up with a word that rhymed with "waffles". My brother Nicky was digging into his hamburger and fries, unaware of everyone else. He was fourteen, and hitting puberty. All he cared in this stage of his life was food. My sister Margo was complaining (loudly) that her chicken sandwich was cold. My father was trying to shush her and signal our waiter at the same time. Claire was grumbling because she had to order from the children's menu since she was still twelve. It's not like she would eat food off the normal menu. She and Margo were the pickiest easters I knew. Besides, the word scramble was keeping her entertained so I don't know what she was complaining about.

Dinner seemed endless. It's hard to keep such a large group happy at once. I felt bad for our waiter, who probably wanted to shoot Margo by the end of the meal. I honestly don't know how our parents raised all of us and kept their sanity. I'd probably be zipped up in a white jacket muttering "Those damn kids…". Despite all this, my family was all I had and I never forgot that. I would miss them terribly when I went away to school.

I remember feeling a flutter at the very thought of going to school. Sure, I would miss my family. But I was gaining freedom, and what eighteen year old girl doesn't look forward to that?


"Mallory, are you all packed?"

I looked up at my mother standing in the doorway. Her chestnut brown hair (quick gripe: everyone in my family got gorgeous chestnut brown hair. Me? Red frizz. Thanks, genetics.) framed her gentle face. My mother always told us we kept her looking young, despite what one might think about someone who's raised eight kids.

"I'm done, Mom," I replied, swinging my legs off the bed and putting a bookmark in the book I was reading. Across from me, Vanessa was napping on her bed. "I was just trying to stay quiet for Vanessa."

My mother looked at Vanessa and nodded. "Well, we leave at seven sharp tomorrow morning. Did you look at the checklist?"

My mother had made me a checklist of everything I had to take with me. Most kids get to go to Linens & Things and pick out new comforters and matching pillowcases. When you have eight brothers and sisters, you take the stuff you have. My parents bought me a shower caddy and a trash can because the one in our room is plastic and for some reason they don't allow plastic trash cans in any dorm room. I guess because of fires or something like that. Not having new stuff didn't matter; this was the way I'd grown up and I'd learned to understand that our parents did what they could.

"Everything is ticked off on the checklist, but I'll double check it tomorrow."

"Good. It's going to be hard not having you around," my mother said, as if she was talking to me about the weather.

I'd gotten used to this. My mother was a pro at making us feel guilty without saying so directly. "I'm only three hours away, Mom. I'll come home once a month and every major holiday. We've discussed this."

"I know, sweetie. Can't a mother miss her daughter?" she asked, pretending to be offended. "I'll just worry about you while you're out there. I don't want you to get into any trouble."

"You know me better than that Mom," I told her patiently.

My mother came over to me and gave me a hug. "You're right. You're my smart, beautiful, practical daughter." I didn't tell her that only two of those were true. She hates it when I bash my looks. She always tells me I'm beautiful. Apparently I wasn't the only one that needed glasses.


The next morning was a flurry of activity. I was scrambling around, running back and forth from my room to our van, cramming it with all of my stuff. I felt like I'd made about a hundred trips up and down the stairs. My legs were starting to feel like jelly.

After everything was packed, it came time for the hardest part. My family all gathered at the corner of the sidewalk. Most of them were too bleary-eyed to even be aware of what was going on. My father had gone around and woken everyone up, and everyone complained. It was their last weekend to sleep in before school started next week, they all said.

I started with Claire. "Be good," I told her, giving her a hug. She was barely standing up. Thankfully, Margo was actually awake. "I'll miss you!" she wailed as she threw her arms around my neck.

"Can't breathe, Margo," I gasped. She released her arms. I turned to Nicky. "I can't believe you're starting high school," I said. "I think you're going to have a blast!" Nicky had always felt out of place in our family, since the triplets acted as though they were Siamese and he wouldn't be caught dead playing with girls. High school would be a great way for him to find new friends.

Vanessa had turned away from me, crying. "Hey, don't be sad Vanessa. You're the first one of us to get her own room!" I figured that would make her feel better. "But I liked sharing a room with you!" she sobbed. "I didn't like when you went away the first time and I don't like it now." I let her be, since nothing I did would change fact that I was going to school. I gave her a hug and turned to the triplets, who, with exception of Byron, were literally sleeping as they stood on the sidewalk. "Bye Byron," I whispered. "Tell your brothers when they wake up that I'll miss them."

Byron took this opportunity to punch Adam and Jordan simultaneously. "Wake up, losers, Mallory's leaving." They mumbled incoherently something that I'm sure was supposed to be a goodbye. My dad then caught me slightly off guard and swept me up into a huge hug that lifted me off the ground. "You take care of yourself honey," he said into my hair. "Don't forget who you are." It seemed like a weird thing to say, and I didn't quite know how to respond to it.

I didn't get the chance anyway, because my mother ushered me inside the car. "Come on, Mallory we have to get going if we want to avoid traffic."

I obediently went inside and buckled my seat, waving to my family from the window. Then I faced forward, feeling a surge of excitement. Today was the start of a new life!