The Hating Game

At first, Lucy and Josh’s relationship consists only of repeated game playing. They play the Mirror Game, the Staring Game, the Spying Game, the You’re Just So Game, the Or Something Game, and of course the Hating Game. Even when they begin getting to know each other better, they couch everything in game terms. For instance, they play truth or dare when they want to understand something about the other person. HR (short for human resources) is their “safe word.” The How You Doing Game is simply how they behave when they’re not being hateful to each other.

For most of the novel, Lucy interprets their relationship as competition. Someone is always trying to win, though she admits she doesn’t know what the prize is. She tells the reader: “I should mention that the ultimate aim of all our games is to make the other smile, or cry. It’s something like that. I’ll know when I win” (8). She is so focused on playing games that she’s unconcerned about the outcome; it’s the game playing itself that she cares about. More than once, she assumes Josh wants to make her unhappy. She thinks he’s won every time he unintentionally makes her cry, such as when he mentions the strawberry farm and her mother’s blog, or when she can’t handle Danny’s compliment about her being beautiful because of how Josh has made her feel.

Lucy thinks that whoever knows the most about the other person will have a leg up. This is why she snoops at his desk and finds the marks he makes in his day planner. It’s also why she feels the competition has grown uneven after he takes care of her when she’s sick. She half-jokes he’s holding off having sex with her because he’s planning on “sexing [her] comatose” the morning of the interview (212). She prevents herself from putting down her guard when they’re together. When Josh kisses Lucy, she hesitantly becomes less vigilant, only to shut down again when Josh tells Mr. Bexley he doesn’t need any help beating Lucy for the job. The reference to that game, the competition for the COO position, becomes the most important game they play.

All the game playing, however, prevents intimacy. Lucy stays protected, and Josh stays mean. Lucy tells the reader: “The thing about being in combat with Joshua Templeman? I never truly win” (221). She never gets what she really wants, which is to be close with him. Whenever they become vulnerable with each other, Lucy’s feelings grow. When he shows he’s not just a hard shell and admits he might not be good at many things, she feels “another crack forming in the wall” (178). She wants to be close, to know everything about him, but she also doesn’t like her vulnerability: “Please, I beg myself. Please hate Josh again. This is too hard” (178). Being nonchalant seemingly protects them both from getting their hearts broken.

The narrative arc is a movement from defensiveness to openness. Like Pride and Prejudice, the love interests in The Hating Game transform from being closed off to being vulnerable. Thorne suggests that vulnerability is challenging—but worth it for the intimacy it can achieve.