The Essence of Hate

The Essence of Hate

“Hello, Selena.” The smooth voice alerted me to my surroundings. Red lockers, white walls. A typical day at Red Hawk High School. I stayed turned around, my back to my annoying visitor. The voice was all too familiar.

“What do you want, Brandon?” I sneered.

“Hey, I can’t greet my favorite girl?” I could just imagine him flicking his sandy hair out of his cerulean eyes and grinning. I couldn’t help but feel my breath hitch at the mere thought of his perfection.

“I don’t want to greet my least favorite guy.”

“Ouch.” He spun me around to face him. I snatched my wrist out of his grip.

“Jeez, what did I do?”

“Everything, Suarez, everything,” I muttered, as I stepped away, into the corridor to my next class, Science. Unfortunately, Brandon followed. Stupid, annoying basketball captain. Why did he have to be so clingy?

“Go away,” I said, irritated.

“My next class is Science, too.” His response was flat.

“Oh.” I tried to hide my embarrassment, and pulled down my black hair to hide my expression. In the dimly lit hallway, it hardly made a difference, anyway.

“Your hair smells like cinnamon,” Brandon noted, making me blush.

“Shampoo,” I retorted.

“Hmm,” was all he said, contemplating something. We walked to class in silence, until we got to our respective desks. I immediately saw Amy Hauser, the most popular girl in school, also the dumbest one, jump up, heading over to Brandon.

“Ew.” The muttered insult made me smile, and I turned to the blonde sitting beside me, her blue eyes reflecting disgust.

“How’s my best friend?” I laughed. Rachel always lifted my bad moods.

“Hey, Rach. And I’m fine. Just annoyed with Basketball Man over there.”

“Everyone is.” She paused, considering the admiring cheerleaders and jocks. “Okay…everyone with a brain is.” I giggled, twirling my brown curls.

“You know, Andy has been asking about you.” She trailed off suggestively.

“Stop setting me up with people, Rach! Not even if they’re on the debate team, and smart! I just don’t feel any chemistry.”

“We’re in high school, Selene. How much chemistry do you want to feel?” I sighed. Rachel was forever setting me up with people, playing matchmaker. I didn’t want any part in it.

“Can you just stop butting into my love life?”

“That’s the problem! You don’t have one!” My glaring was distracted by the bell. Darn. English was next, the class I had with Brandon.

“Good luck, Sel. Don’t kill him.” Rachel patted my arm and gave me a sad little smile. “We’ll talk about this later.”

I groaned. No doubt about that.

“Yo, Gibson!” Brandon came behind me. I mentally shuddered.

“What?” I snapped. “Can’t you go with your cheerleader girlfriends? One of them is bound to have English with you!”

“Gee, chill! What have I ever done to you?”

“More like what your brother’s done to me,” I muttered, quickly closing my mouth when I realized what I’d just said. Crap.

“Brian? What?” Brandon was puzzled, and I took his confusion as the advantage to sit in a seat far away from him, to avoid questions.

He didn’t give up easily. I could feel his stare boring into my back as I tried to look interested in what Ms. Spencer was saying about Shakespeare, but the moment the bell rang, I sprang up and walked out.

“Tell me, Gibson,” demanded Brandon, dropping her first name. “I want to know about your stupid vendetta against me.”

“Vendetta? Wow, Suarez! You know some vocabulary!” My dripping sarcasm wasn’t enough to throw him off. It only seemed to put him in a worse mood.

“Shut it, Gibson, and come with me. It’s free period; you won’t have to worry about missing your beloved classes.” He dragged her unwillingly to the music room, shutting the double doors in the process.

“Now, tell me,” he commanded, once I was sitting on the piano.

“You think kidnapping me is going to make me say something? I don’t think so!” I tried to get to the double doors, but he blocked my way. Damn.

“What has my brother ever done to you?” He folded his arms, annoyed, probably.

“He’s beat me up, that’s what!” I gasped. Uh oh.

“What?” Brandon was angry now. “My brother? Are you sure?”

My secret was out now. Might as well show him. I lifted my shirt, revealing my stomach. Brandon gaped.

“My brother did that?” He backed away from the gruesome, large, purple bruise. I didn’t blame him; I would have too, but I didn’t show it.

“Some manners, pleases?” I asked, dropping my shirt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just find this hard to believe…He’s never mentioned you before.” He came closer. Now it was my turn to feel uncomfortable.

“Of course he wouldn’t mention me. Why would he? Last year when he did this to me, he warned me to keep my mouth shut.” I grimaced at the thought. The pain of the memories was so much.

“He beat you up?” checked Brandon.

“Yes! I don’t know why. Purely for fun, I guess. You jocks are all the same.”

Brandon flinched. “I’m sorry. My brother has a brain tumor, his actions aren’t all justified.” He sighed. “It’s always been a problem.”

I was shocked. Really? Or was he just lying? But it was impossible; someone stupid as him wouldn’t know a brain tumor unless he’d experienced one, or seen it himself. Belief was the most logical reaction. I was suddenly wary.

“Do you have one?” I asked cautiously.

He immediately burst into laughter. That didn’t assure me.

“You honestly think so?” he chortled. “I find that insulting.”

“You’re talking to me. If that’s not a mental issue, I don’t know what is.”

“My brother was someone who’d never hurt a fly. I guess this has changed him way too much. And I talk to you because you’re interesting. Unlike the fashion obsessed cheerleaders.”

“Huh.” I was confused. He talked to me because I was interesting? When had I ever been interesting?

“You know, you don’t see yourself as you really are. And that’s an amazing person.” He grabbed my hand and stroked it, not seeing my trembling.

“Really.”

“Uh huh.” He looked at me, a wide smile stretched across his face.

“What?”

“I was prepared for something a lot more action packed when you were about to explain. But I think I like this turn of events better.”

I rolled my eyes. Typical boy. “You like this?”

“I like you.”

The confession startled me. “Seriously? You’ve got to be joking.”

“Why would I be joking?” His lapis lazuli eyes were serious, a smoldering blue flame. “You’re much better in personality than anyone I’ve met. Interesting, funny, intelligent, and lovely. Why would anyone not like you?”

“I-I find this hard to believe.”

“You still think I’m kidding?” he sighed. Then he leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine; a quick one, but I could feel my blood boiling under my skin. Something I’d never felt before. I could feel the chemistry.

“Hmm, that was…different,” he pondered it. “Did you feel it too?” he inquired curiously.

“Yes, I did.”

“I think we have a long relationship ahead of us, don’t you?” He held out his hand for me to take.

I hesitated, but the sincerity behind his blue eyes was real. I placed my hand in his large one, and he smiled.

“A long relationship indeed.”